The first steps of the Comeback Special, September 2022.
Wednesday Morning:
I have been in a creative funk over the past week or so, and I can’t seem to find my groove for writing or picture-taking. So, bear with me.
26 Years & 1,000 Miles
Tag Archives | doing stuff
The 4th Day of July
Do you want to know how NOT to start a week? I’ll tell you.
Wake up at the first glimmer of summer sunshine on Monday morning, eat breakfast, use the dumper four or five times, cover yourself with bug spray, and get into the woods before the nearby river is clogged with loud, cigarette-smoking, littering, beer-swilling, camo-swimsuit-wearing, neck tattooed river tubers trying their best to get e-coli from the tons of cow shit and crop runoff polluting the water.
Then push yourself to do six miles of hiking even though you are nursing multiple painful foot issues, the air is thick and humid, the sun is getting intense, your jaw hurts from gritting your teeth, and every item of clothing you have on is drenched with fat man sweat that smells like stank taco sauce and stale keg.
And when the hike is done, your goal was met, and you’re finally home; rinse the bug spray off, put on a dry shirt, and mow the grass of the vast (not really) estate of the Cul-De-Sac Shack during the hottest part of the morning, all the while wondering if it’s possible to buy new human feet on Amazon (surely it is) and if I might actually be mentally challenged, because tacking on a 2-mile walk behind a lawn mower after a 6-mile hike in the woods was fucking stupid as hell. I thought I might die and, like you, was mildly disappointed when I did not.
But hey, that was yesterday, it’s the 4th of July now, and we’re celebrating the way three people who could give a fuck do; Wifey went to a movie alone, B is sleeping and will remain so until roughly 2 PM before going out to scout a location to shoot a short film bit he’s working on, and I putzed around the yard trimming shit, doing laundry, making some food, and soon commenced toasting all the freedoms that we Americans enjoy (FINE PRINT: actual freedoms may vary based on tax bracket, skin color, country of birth, gun ownership, religious beliefs (or lack thereof), gender, and sexual orientation).
I only took a few photos on Monday due to the hurt I was in, and they still sit on the z50’s SD card, but I did find a stranger’s grocery list in a cart the other day, and I thought this one was the perfect 4th of July photo. And it’s all I have.
Later.
Last June, First July
They often say, writing a blog post is like that about-to-be outdated meat in the back of the fridge (pooling blood water on the shelf, optional); you want to eat it before it goes full-rancid, but your brain is telling you it already is, so you shamefully, and Imodium-free for the immediate future, dump it down the In-Sinker-Ator and let it go to wherever the hell rancid, and potentially rancid meats dumped down drains go; I’m assuming Florida. I digress.
Creeps and Lumbers
I took the weekend off from lumbering to rest my right foot, which has given me some issues over the past several weeks. It was maddening not “doing stuff” at times, but via the talents of today’s craft brewer, I managed.
Another Hundred Down
It’s been a good week of woodsy lumbering so far; my foot is making progress even though I have not even come close to resting it, and I have hiked over 21 miles in 4 days. I even had one of my fastest 6-mile lumbering loops ever on Wednesday, clocking in at a respectable average lumbering pace of 15.40 per mile.
Morons & Wild Animals
As the old saying goes, 37.8 miles forward, 1 step back. Or something like that.
Crazy From The Heat
I’m back! But sadly, I was never really gone.
The last post was me patting myself on the back for showing modest signs of normal human mental and emotional growth, along with realizing that I needed to give my right foot a break and attempt to recover from some ongoing plantar fasciitis.
Learning To Tolerate Myself
I finished up last week with 22.56 miles of hiking and missed my weekly goal by 2.44 miles. However, I finished the week with some strong lumbers and occasional running. Sadly, by Sunday, my right foot said, “piss off!” and I was hit with some raging plantar fasciitis.
Shit.
Springing and Missed Shots
Wednesday’s hike was a wonderful 6-mile lumber with an average speed of 4 miles per hour; it was a great way to surpass the 800-mile mark in my ongoing journey by foot to find lost fitness and mental clarity.
Oddball Hikin’
It’s just after 7 AM on Sunday morning, there’s no football on for another couple of hours, and my weekly mileage goal as part of the 2023 Soil The Woods Tour was met roughly 20 hours, 4 beers, two failed chicken tacos, and one pre-bed peanut butter and syrup sandwich ago. So, with no better place to be— here I am.