Tag Archives | journal-ish

Memories of Hamburger Helper

I think it might have something to do with my recently departed father, but I have been craving Hamburger Helper. I’ll explain.

Back when I was a kid in the mid-80s, the factory my dad worked at shut down, and he was out of work for two or three years as mill after mill in the Western Pennsylvania area closed. During that time my mother worked as a receptionist for a doctor, and my dad was put in charge of getting me dinner.

Chili, hot dogs, box mac ‘n’ cheese, chili, cheap fast food, frozen french fries, more chili, and, of course, LOTS of Hamburger Helper were all part of our weekly menus.

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Repetitive Goodness

Every one of my lumbers this week has been nearly the same. Oddly, that’s not really a bad thing. 

The loops were all five miles in length, or just over. The temps were warmer (in the 20s and low 30s compared to -2˚ last week); however, while warmer, the temps have not been warm enough to melt the snow in the woods, barring a few small areas that receive direct sunlight. And that meant continuing to lumber over lumpy, slippery snow that makes for slow going, adding handfuls of minutes onto my average pace and taking its toll on my knees and darkened mind.

But hey, all that is just me trying to make my lumbers in the woods sound like something like more than a fat man walking trails in a futile attempt to feel better about himself.

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Almost is Not Good Enough

It should be pretty apparent by this post that I’ve reached the point in the winter where madness is setting in, and I have nothing to say, but I force myself to write and post something so that I can use my brain for something other than cleaning a toilet and talking to the dog. – Management

Wednesday 8:19 AM

I hadn’t been in the woods to lumber since last Friday morning, so as you might imagine, I was looking forward to throwing caution to the wind, layering up with my best crap cold weather gear, and heading out into the -2˚ temps this morning to get a few miles in my feetz.

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That Time of Year

Two weeks ago, I lumbered over 30 miles and felt great. Last week, I lumbered 20 miles on slippy, lumpy snow and felt like an aching bag of shit by the end. Come the weekend, I sat my fat ass inside and did nothing. Then, I woke up Monday morning at 6 AM, rolled over, farted twice, looked at the -1˚ weather icon on my phone, and said, “fuck it.”

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Broken Acceptance

Tuesday was another morning of stuffing myself into cold-weather gear and begrudgingly heading out for a lumber in temps, struggling to make it into the double digits. However, I was quick to realize that, outside of a four-hour flight to Jamaica, there’s no place I’d rather be heading off to on a Tuesday morning.

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Bullies, Jays, and Peckers

I took the weekend off from lumbering just ’cause I wanted to, but I wish I hadn’t.

The weather was dark, glum, and morose all weekend, the football sucked, and unsurprisingly Spurs blew another lead to draw 2-2 with Wolves. I hate them. My time would have been much better spent walking in the woods with my camera, but the ache of “new muscles” used whilst hiking three days on mushy snow and a tired mind from a week of grief, travel, and holiday “merriment” had me thinking differently.

The good part of the weekend was that 50˚ and an all-day rain melted any shred of snow, and the trails were completely bare come Monday morning.

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Looking For Success

With warmer temps, conditions in the woods have been getting progressively worse, so on Friday, I needed to adjust expectations of what I was going to get out of my morning lumber. I also needed to make further adjustments to my kit.

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