Once again, I was on the trail as the sun rose this morning, this time for a 5-mile “run” on my original run loop to gauge progress.
The temps were in the high 40s, and I debated on whether to wear long sleeves or not, but then I looked at my hulking body in the mirror and remembered how much sweat I put out. I stuck with the short sleeves.
It seems like yesterday (or six days ago) when I was so overheated and drenched with sweat that I needed to stop by a trailside artesian well to douse myself with water to cool down, and today it was 45˚ when I got feetz on trail as the sun was rising. Shit.
After I was done spewing the decaying shit in my brain to the O.G. Mindbender last week, we were talking casually, and I mentioned my somewhat steady improved attempts at running and how much of a mental rub and a tug it’s been for me. She was complimentary, but as with many therapists, I could tell she wasn’t extremely impressed.
In my mind I planned to get out for a short lumber with my camera over the weekend, but it never really materialized.
Some of that was due to the fact that I had already hit my weekly mileage goal and lacked motivation, but the main issue was the fact that I was balls deep into the kickoff of the 2024/25 Premier League season (Nerd!). That means early weekend mornings filled with copious amounts of coffee and a big-as-your-head breakfast burrito and then an afternoon spent enjoying adult beverages and listening to music as I catch up on the rest of the European football action. Good times…. good times.
I was recently thinking (I know, I know, I shouldn’t) about this whole lumbering thing I’ve been doing for the past two years, which has sometimes morphed into attempts at trail running, especially recently, and why I have been enjoying it despite not being good at it.
I was eager for a lumber at Deerfield on Thursday morning and was in bed Wednesday night just as the sun set.
Sadly, I was wide awake about 4 hours later and would remain so for hours before briefly falling asleep and dreaming about legs covered in mosquito bites that I squeezed like pimples and orange centipede-like worms came out. Needless to say, I passed on breakfast. And I almost thought about passing on the hike.
I did not.
It was nice to return to the Hall’s Lake Natural Area for a hike in the woods on Tuesday, and it did wonders to improve my mood as well as help get my creative juices flowing despite not seeing much to photograph.
I was also eager to get back to running1 on Wednesday and mapped out a new 5-mile on-the-nose course using Mapmyride.com. Apparently, they don’t discriminate against you if don’t plan on riding a bike.
I felt good physically after Monday morning’s lumber/run (runber?), and in a perfect world, I would do the same thing again Tuesday, especially since the mood I was in at 6:00 AM called for intense flogging and punishment for unknown reasons, although I have a feeling that it has something to do with still being alive. But it also could have been gas.
I had a loose plan to do my version of running on Thursday and found myself at the trailhead parking lot and ready to go at 7:45.
After three lumberless days, I was back in the woods early Wednesday morning for a slow but much-needed 5-mile hike. It felt swell. Not great, but swell.
