I’m now entering my third day without a lumber. It’s not good, but it’s not bad.
Sunday was spent doing normal Sunday stuff (sans lumber) and included such activities as watching grass grow, making/eating food, drinking beer, flipping through channels looking for some shred of international football to watch (thank you, Scottish Premiership), and having sexy time (not exactly in that order, but sometimes done at the same time).
Monday’s early morning 5-mile run in the hot and humid woods really zapped my energy, so I knew that on Tuesday, I would need to dial shit back a little bit and lumber.
After a nice 5-mile lumber on Sunday morning and a great birthday of footy, Jet’s Pizza, carrot cake, and hoppy beverages, I was eager to get back in the woods on Monday morning.
I was in bed before 10 on Saturday night and up at 6 for the dogs and to coffee up and get out the door for an empty stomach lumber in the woods, a lumber that would have me hit 20 miles for the week. Again, not my normal 30, but after a month of deck refinishing and limping, I’m happy enough with it.
I’ve tried several times to write a stupid post about getting back on the trails for a few lumbers this week as I ease my hurtin’ feetz and knee back into bigger weeks, but it seems pretty pointless.
Earlier this week, I got a message from my brother to tell me that some tests my father had after a recent surgical procedure came back positive, and further, more intense treatment is necessary.
I don’t want to violate any father/son HIPPA regulations, so I’ll just say the news threw me a bit more than I thought, and I soon found myself going down a rabbit hole of beer, Euro 24 replays, and loud music to try to take my mind off of it.
As mentioned here a few times this year, The 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour has hit a bit of a rough patch due to my old ass nursing multiple toe, foot, and knee issues, along with trying to refinish our deck before the summer of 2029.
Since I started the Hell’s Deck Project, I’ve been spending more and more time on the front porch of the Cul De Sac Shack. Mostly to keep Jake (The Dog) and Lola from wanting to be on the deck, which is currently a war zone of chemical stripper residue, dust, and odd smells, not to mention the deck gets the afternoon sun, which has been blazing hot recently. In other words, “too hot for bulldogs!”
It’s been ten days since I last strapped hiking sneakers on my feetz, and it might be another four or so more until I do so again.
After the near fruitless photo creep I did last Saturday morning, and the rabid, angry-toothed dog meets insane random stranger in a parking lot incident, I took Sunday off to do whatever it is I do when not lumbering or taking photos. I think adult beverages and pre-Euro ’24 International friendlies were involved.
