The weather over the weekend was pretty crap: dark, grey, rainy, and quite cool for the unofficial kickoff of summer, unlike today, which is sunny and 75˚.
With Wifey somewhere in Ohio (I don’t really know, I think near some big lake… Lake Winnipesaukee or something like that), and B at his girlfriend’s parents’ for the holiday, I was left alone with Lola (the dog) for the weekend.
After a few days of stewing in my own fecal-scented depressive juices, I finally started to climb out of The Bell Jar sometime on Thursday.
While I know what put me in the mood, I don’t know exactly what got me out of the mood. I had an appointment with the OG Mindbender on Wednesday, and that helped a good deal, but sometimes I think I just need to let a mood take its course until I find the will to push that shit down real deep and forget about it. Like the saying goes, “Time heals all wounds, but it also kills everyone and everything.” Or something like that.
Soiled File Foto.
As I type this, I am in the middle of a rain delay, which, given the forecast of ice, rain, snow, wind, and 33˚ all day, will surely lead to the rescheduling of today’s lumber.
I needed less than 5 miles to hit my 30-mile goal last week. Didn’t.
I aborted Friday morning’s lumber due to snow and ice coming down and promises of better conditions on Saturday morning. Until I woke up Saturday and had no desire to lumber.
At this point, I could wax nostalgic about a weekend of suck and the want to lie down in a ditch on the side of the road for a long nap, but I will save that for another day.
Well, the Weather Mongers were not wrong, and I woke up to snow and high winds this morning. There were only a few inches at the time, but it was still coming down, and after four days of snowless hiking, I was not in the mood.
Not to beat a spent lingam, but I haven’t been on trails using just my trail runners since sometime in mid-November. Until today.
After a few days spent with my slack turned blissfully up to 11, I woke up Monday morning with not one ounce of desire to lumber on what were either going to be extremely slushy trails or extremely icy trails. Either way, I knew I didn’t have the brain power to deal, so I didn’t. Giving up is so easy, I really should get back into the routine.
Fast forward to Tuesday morning…
These days, I’m not so much hiding from winter as I am beat down by winter like an aging heavyweight boxer lying on the mat, dazed, confused, with blood and spittle running from my slackened jaw as my eyes struggle to focus on what is happening around me before accepting fate, and closing them. *cue soundtrack*
But hey, it’s February, and like the saying goes, “new month, same old cold, miserable, bullshit.”
Obviously, I am riding a wave of hyperbole and caffeine this morning, as I recap a week of nothing. For that, I make no apologies.
Since I traded bikes for hiking shoes, I have mentally survived the winter months way better than before. Along with losing the anxiety of smashing my blood-thinned body on the ice (again), proper equipment—much of it left over my from cycling days—for the long winter has helped a ton; proper jacket, base layers, GORE-TEX shoes, gaiters, trekking poles, micro spikes, and snowshoes, if necessary, have all made venturing out into the snow and ice more tolerable and downright fun at times.
