The week of lumbering is flying by, and I’m currently sitting at a nugget’s hair over 15 miles, with my 25-mile weekly goal on track to finish by the weekend.
What’s not on track is my time spent getting real-life, Cul-De-Sac-ian type crap done, so this post is super short (another gift to you) and heavy on photos from the past two days.
Monday morning brought a great start to a week of lumbering, with a wonderful “heavy drizzle” (a laughable oxymoron of a weather term I saw that morning) and dense fog. It was perfect lumbering weather!
Taking a short cut on the dirt roads.
Well, I guess real winter is here, at least for a little while.
I was once again the first and only car at the trailhead parking lot at 7:45 Monday morning.
The sunlight was just starting to creep over the trees, turning the clouds various shades of pink, red, and orange as I tightened my shoelaces and waited for my Garmin to connect. All the while, a large gaggle of geese in the river were honking away.
After an abbreviated lumber due to the local Thanksgiving turkey trotters, I was anxious to get on the trails on Friday morning to finish off my week of lumbering.
I was up at my usual 6 AM on Thanksgiving morning to tend to the dogs and my dumps, and then it was a quick cup of coffee and out the door into the dark to get to the trails before the annual Turkey trot trail race kicked off at 9 AM.
I was sort of pissed about the race happening because I really wanted to attempt it this year! But the last time I Googled it (pre-autumn mental meltdown), all I could find was the 2023 event info. Then, when I woke up this morning, I wanted to double-check, and NOW there was the damn info. Go figure. Perhaps it’s a sign from the Run Dogs that I’m not ready yet.
Part I, More Tales of the Mundane
After Tuesday morning’s 5-mile lumber, I quickly headed home for breakfast and to shower before heading to the dentist to finally get my teeth cleaned after two weeks of rearranged appointments, sick hygienists, and one annoyed would-be patient.
In Friday’s post, I made a ridiculous and bold proclamation that I would do some treadmilling to offset the beers I planned on consuming whilst watching the football all weekend. I have no shame in admitting I did no such thing.
A week of lumbering 25+ miles in the cold, dank woods had my aging bones perfectly content to be warm inside, close to a kitchen stocked with food and adult beverages, with slippered feet up while sitting in my favorite chair, remote in hand, yelling at the TV, and being a goof as two bulldogs fart, burp, snore, and stink up the living room. It’s kind of my weekend “thing.”
Today’s 6.10-mile lumber was dank, grey, and fairly lifeless in the woods. I saw a couple deer sprinting away from a distance and a black-capped chickadee flitting around in some brush, and that was it. I took one shitty photo which is not shown here due to said shittiness. Instead you get a backyard Turdus captured weeks ago.
Thursday morning, Jake (The Dog) woke me up out of sound sleep just before the alarm with one of his patented Wookie growls that sounds like Chewbacca is being “taken” against his will in the showers of a Death Star prison. This is Jake’s way of telling me that it’s time for me to get my flaccid white man ass downstairs and haul his ass out in the yard to pee. It’s a startling way to awaken, to say the least.
Slippers on, gutchies buttoned up, flashlight between the teeth, and Jake slung over my left arm (the one with rampant tendonitis in the elbow from doing this 4+ times a day, every day), I threw open the back door, stepped out into the darkness, and there they were.
First Flakes: Thursday, November 21st at 6:02 AM
Mark it, dude.