There is a first time for everything, and I’m not too ashamed to admit it; I hurt my foot Monday afternoon while animatedly relaying a story to Brenann about the time a few years ago when I saw a clip of a non-league goalkeeper doing the Connor McGregor strut after his team scored a late-game winner at the opposite end of the pitch.
Can I get a do-over on last week?
Something about last week was off for me. While nothing horrible happened, and I’m still maintaining a good (enough) mindset, something was off. I think the Michigan spring is getting to me, and I use the term “spring” lightly. The past week was filled with cold temps, high wind, ice storms, heavy rain, and very few fading glimpses of the sun. The week also seemed worse because it was B’s spring break, and while the rest of Michigan seemingly did something in warmer climates, we did nothing. Again.
Over the years, it’s been well documented that I am a creature of routines and habits. Some are good, like going to the gym at the same time every morning, and some are bad; we won’t speak of those right now. Still, I dig a good routine, and Tuesday’s gym time was ruined by a dentist appointment I apparently made after a cleaning six months ago and only found out about via a Monday night reminder text from the office. Oh well, it seems my body will have to remain in this sagging and flaccid state one day longer.
As I write this, it’s a dark, cold, icy Saturday morning in mid-Michigan, and I can’t make up my mind if I want to go for a photo walk in the icy woods, go to the gym to lumber nowhere fast on the Dreadmill or go back to the Bed of Torment for a second sleep; the world is my mother friggin’ oyster as they say.
Somewhere between morning bowel discharges, too much coffee, and my 3 egg white omelet with veggie sausages, I was made aware via a variety of Instagram posts that today is the Barry-Roubaix gravel race near Grand Rapids.
Yet another unneeded brief message from the President and CEO of thesoiledchamois.net, and Soiled Chamois Enterprises, Inc.™
Dear Reader,
I apologize in advance for this post. I started it on Friday but then became slightly “under the influence.” So I shelved it until Saturday evening. But then I became under the influence again and shelved it until Sunday morning. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I tried to clean up this mess up as best I could, but I don’t care enough to work on it any longer. It also seems I enjoy being under the influence a bit too much. But we all knew that. I’ll let you decide which parts were written when.
— Management
As mentioned in my last unneeded post about nothing, I experienced a bit of knee pain while on the Dreadmill the other day. Well, thankfully, that pain didn’t stick around, and I was back to doing “sprint” intervals the very next day and actually felt really good (enough) over the 3 miles.
While this week won’t win me any awards for Life and How to Live It, it was a tolerable experience. And during a mid-Michigan March that is frequently filled with 45˚ days, 15˚ days, high winds, snow, ice, bright sun, freezing rain, standing water, mud, gloom, blue skies, spring-time inspiration, and winter-time funks —often all in one day—tolerable is way above average for me. So, yeah, mark it a win, dude.
I have been thinking more and more about this site lately, and I find that I’m sort of in a conundrum. See, as many of you know, I started this blog back in April of 2005. My first “real” post was about a hilly 55-mile road ride back in Western Pennsylvania, some of which was in a cold rain.
Last week was another “lost week” for me; every bitterly cold gray day seemed exactly like the one before, and I couldn’t seem to find the point to anything or figure out what the hell I’ve done with my life. I could easily bore you (again) with the finer details of just how horrible that feels, but instead, I will just say that come Friday morning, I finally felt the urge to lace up my boots and head out into the sunny (SUN!!!) 9˚ morning for a hike with my camera.
Looking back through my January posts over the years, I have talked ad naseum about my loathing of January, so I will just say, a mid-Michigan January for someone dealing with depression is like throwing a drowning man a dead carp. Sure, it might be funny for a second, but the dude drowns, and you’re out your best dead carp.
The week after the Christmas holiday, I was back on the Dreadmill in the Not So Stankment, pounding out daily 3-mile lumbers and intervals. After what seemed like months of being ill in one form or another, it felt great to get my heart rate up and to sweat again without a 101˚ fever.
So, after 21+ miles of lumbering nowhere slow, I was stoked to get back on the magic Zwift machine last Monday and get my legs back to doing what they do best. Or at least do better than running.
