Tag Archives | feeling mental

Societal Reintroductions

My post COVID creep back into the world started on Wednesday with a short “Last Day of Quarantine” solo hike in the woods of the Sylvan Preserve. Then, I made it official on Thursday when I returned to the cold, sagging, well-milked bosom of society with a trip to Meijer to buy groceries. It was all very anti-climatic and soon forgotten.

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Still Here

What was that I said about things staying the same?

So far, my September has been better than my August was, but that’s not to say that I feel all pantsless and fancy-free.

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Drained

Oh, Saturday, how I remember you. I did a 22.5-mile dirt road ride from the house and sweat my balls off. I also hit one of my first weight-loss goals (-20 lbs). It was a good day. That lasted until about 11 AM.

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What Direction?

For better or worse, I was on a bit of a roll with posting. Then I didn’t for a few days; now I don’t know where to begin. Shit.

From what I can remember, I’ve been balls deep into watching my food intake and working out every single blessed goddamn day like I’m an Olympian as I try to lose the weight that so cleverly attached itself to me via years of being on the antidepressant hamster wheel. 

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Exclamation Point!

There has been no ride since my last ride. That’s a bummer, but I’ve tried to keep moving with six nine miles of Dreadmill lumbering over the past two three days. Me walking/jogging on a treadmill is not exactly blog-worthy1, but as I so often say here on these ill-written digital pages of digital suck, “yet here we are.”

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Day One Again

It’s become clear to me, via my bathroom scale, that my self-imposed extended layoff from riding has not helped (in ANY way whatsoever) my attempt at getting back to being a “husky” man who is a whisker under being morbidly obese. No offense to my fellow “husky” and “morbidly obese” friends and neighbors. “For there are many,” sayeth Luke. Luke, the dude that hangs out at the skatepark, not Luke of the Bible book.

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Still No Mojo

Note: This post may or may not sound like I’m a six-pack of beer and a 5 gallon-sized bag of weed into the weekend, but I assure you it’s only fueled by coffee, too much time on my hands, and cold rain pelting against my office window. 

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