Tag Archives | journal-ish

Success In Failure

I was up and in the woods by 7:15 Saturday morning, looking to stomp out 5 miles, hit my 25-mile weekly goal, and get home for breakfast and coffee while watching the USWNT quarter-final game.

That was the plan, until it wasn’t.

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PRs Set, Goals Met

I was relieved to wake up on Friday with my knee continuing to feel good. It’s been a month-long journey of Googling, avoiding real doctors, and pain that appeared to finally improve by actually pushing myself harder and running.

I say “appeared” because while I 100% said “fuck it” and started running because it felt way better than hiking, I know that 1. that wasn’t the right thing to do, and 2. that’s PROBABLY not what improved it.

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So Much Amazing Stupidity!

The last needless post was way too long and written over several days, and I told myself that I’d vomited enough sophomoric wit and unsolicited opinions (my age is showing) onto your screens this week. But then, sometimes, shit happens. So, here we are. Sorry.

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A Pain Barrier Broken

Monday afternoon was rough; my feetz and knee were not happy about my successful-at-the-time attempt to outrun some ongoing injuries earlier in the day.

Tuesday morning shit didn’t hurt any worse than the day before, but I opted not to lumber. Instead, I spent the early morning getting things done inside the Cul-De-Sac-Shack, and then I shifted outside to mow, trim, and sweat all over the lawn before finally collapsing in a gelatinous mass of sweat, fat, and throbbing plantar fascia.

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A Bit of A Lumber and A Birthday

I was in bed before 10 on Saturday night and up at 6 for the dogs and to coffee up and get out the door for an empty stomach lumber in the woods, a lumber that would have me hit 20 miles for the week. Again, not my normal 30, but after a month of deck refinishing and limping, I’m happy enough with it.

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Finding My Way Back Again

I’ve tried several times to write a stupid post about getting back on the trails for a few lumbers this week as I ease my hurtin’ feetz and knee back into bigger weeks, but it seems pretty pointless.

Earlier this week, I got a message from my brother to tell me that some tests my father had after a recent surgical procedure came back positive, and further, more intense treatment is necessary.

I don’t want to violate any father/son HIPPA regulations, so I’ll just say the news threw me a bit more than I thought, and I soon found myself going down a rabbit hole of beer, Euro 24 replays, and loud music to try to take my mind off of it.

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The Upsell

Since I started the Hell’s Deck Project, I’ve been spending more and more time on the front porch of the Cul De Sac Shack. Mostly to keep Jake (The Dog) and Lola from wanting to be on the deck, which is currently a war zone of chemical stripper residue, dust, and odd smells, not to mention the deck gets the afternoon sun, which has been blazing hot recently. In other words, “too hot for bulldogs!”

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