After I finished tending to the last of the leaves on Friday, I showered and headed out for weekend provisions. That would be the last time I left the open borders of the Cul De Sac Shack for 48 hours.
No, I wasn’t depressed and hunkered down in The Bed of Torment or hiding out from the roving gangs of newly deputized MAGA Brownshirts rounding up the Libs, freethinkers, educated, and creatives for the internment camps; I simply had no reason to go out—so I didn’t. And it was pretty darn OK.
Was it the worst best week ever or the best worst week ever? I dunno.
I’M NOT GOING TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
I’M NOT GOING TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
I’M NOT GOING TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
I’M NOT GOING TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
I’M NOT GOING TO WRITE ABOUT IT.
I swear, not today.
I was up and in the woods at 7:30 AM today with 500 lumens strapped to my head, a full 40+ minutes before the sun fully rose.
It’s been a good 15 years since I consistently recreated outdoors in the dark. However, I’m in the Fall stretch of the 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour, as well as the actual Living Hell that is 2024 America. So, I like to get out for my lumbers, home to run any errands, and back inside before the bulk of rightwing, mid-Michigan rim-lickers start their day of stupidity and fascist idol-worshiping.
It’s been over two weeks since I wrote my last post, and the world is still spinning, so I can confirm that my near-daily blatherings and crap photos of my old guy micro-adventures are not what keeps it doing so.
I fully admit my posts have taken on an opinionated, dark tone lately. This is not the person I’ve been working hard for the past few years to become, and I’m committed to trying to get back to my normal goofball shenanigans where for no good reason, I write about crap outdoor fitness activities done by a 53-year-old moron, and other stupid shit that nobody but me cares about.
— Management
I needed to get 4.75 miles in over the weekend to meet my 25-mile goal, and I am sorry to report that it didn’t happen.
After a relaxing weekend, I found myself back in the woods stomping out a 5+ mile lumber on an early, crisp, sunny autumn morning.
I ended my last post by saying that I was about to head out onto the front porch to enjoy another cup of coffee and watch the sunrise. And I did, but it sort of hilariously went pear-shaped.
After Friday’s 10-mile lumber at Mid, I spent the weekend doing next to nothing. NOTHING. I ate lots of carby goodness, watched too much footy, and drank some excellent beer.
However, despite completing a week filled with many firsts for me (my fastest ever 5-mile run and completing my first 10-mile lumber), I found myself in an unexplained, deep, misanthropic funk on Sunday that I could not shake.
