Monday, also known as Flu Recovery Day One, was pretty jammed with activities, and I probably should have dialed it back a bit.
The morning’s short lumber was a nice re-introduction to outdoor activities after four solid days of shivering, shaking, snotting, and sleeping. After that, is when I kinda bit off more than my generous jowls maybe could have chewed.
Content with my own thoughts in my own head
That’s because I thought you was dead.
Remember when I did three lumbers in a row last week, and I was stoked to be getting life back to normal and hopeful of hitting my 25-mile weekly lumbering goal for the first time in weeks? Me neither; it seems like years ago.
After three lumbers and 17+ miles this week, I was handed a bag full of warm feecus in the form of a mystery illness that knocked me flat on my ass late afternoon Wednesday, and as of Friday morning, it’s still knocking.
What started as some mild post-nasal drip reminiscent of some spring allergies had every inch of my skin hurting by late afternoon Wednesday, and I found myself in bed under roughly five blankets, trying to stay warm by 8 PM.
After just two lumbers and 12.21 miles, I have had my best week of hiking in roughly 3 weeks. That is no reflection on how good this week is going but more on how freaking bad the previous three have been.
The snow that we got Sunday night into Monday was completely gone by Tuesday morning, and the woods were back to their pre-spring meets rotting garbage palette of browns, blacks, tans, and greys.
Part I Things Got Worser
After nearly 20 years of writing this bullshit, I still don’t consider myself a writer. Mostly because I have zero formal training as one, and often, my posts are an unintelligible scrambled mess of thoughts. So, to say I have “writer’s block” sounds stupid, but I really have been at a loss for words this week, and I have tried writing this post about 4 times. Mostly because the past week has been a whirlwind of travel and, unfortunately, more sadness.
I skipped a lumber on Wednesday due to heavy rain on potentially still icy trails. I should have got on the magic Whoosh machine in the basement, but alas, I did not, ’cause fatty gotta fat.
After I got home from running some errands last Friday, I shut the garage door and didn’t leave the house again until 7:40 AM on Monday.
I have little desire to go out of the house if it’s not a hike, groceries, or beer shopping. I have little need for the American public, and the American public has little need for me. It’s your classic win-win sitch between a couple of assholes.
With temps already in the high 20s and an expected daytime high in the mid-40s, I knew trail conditions could be “iffy” on Friday morning, but with three good trainer rides already in my meatsticks this week, I really wanted to get outside for some miles in my feetz and hopefully some images on my SD card.
As I’ve mentioned previously, Wifey is out of town for work and three hours behind, and B is at school an hour away in East Lansing, so I am home and very alone. This is probably why my posts have been rambling word salads that could have been reduced to a paragraph.
One of the worst things about being an outdoor lumbering enthusiast in the winter is the constant weather-watching and weather-based decision-making.
