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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Later.
It’s been about three weeks since I last posted anything here and 7 weeks or more since I posted anything that I actually cared about writing, and even that is debatable.
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.
I love summer, but I have to admit that I was glad to see the end of August and all of its swamp-ass heat and humidity. In addition to the stifling heat, each week of the month seemingly had some new problem to face that was out of my control. And in my opinion, there is no worse feeling than being faced with an issue in which you can’t control the outcome.
Last week was busy as hell and hot as balls. Luckily I still got out for about 15 miles worth of hikes in the vaginally humid woods since my previous post, and today (Monday), the heatwave finally relented, and I got out for a Standard Dirt Road Ride in the morning before the breeze kicked up too much.
The bank fraud-induced fog of worry and fret that I’ve been walking around in for two weeks is finally starting to lift. Just in time, too, because I was really starting to lose it, AND I have a million things to do this week!
I’ll deal with this week when the shit comes, but as for the past week, there were more rage/sad hikes, followed by finally getting back out for a ride in the hot, humid morning air on Saturday morning.
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.
July ended with increasing miles on the bike and decreasing numbers on the scale. Still, my plan for Sunday was to take the day off from workouts or rides and just goof off.
That was the plan, then about an hour after I wrote a blog post and started said plan for goofing off, I headed to the Not So Stankment to get on the Dreadmill. In other words, the plan failed.
I got out Thursday morning for a ride, but it soon became apparent that I didn’t have it in me. I was riding right into a steady wind that combined with overnight rain and morning sun to make things an un-fun, sticky mess. I did 15 miles, and that would have to scratch my workout itch for the day.
