As previously mentioned, Monday was a mush-fest on the trails, and I was this close *does that thing where you pinch two fingers together to show just how close it was* to aborting today’s lumber and parking my ass on the trainer in the basement for some fake bike riding.
The easiest thing you can do to secure coveted slack status in the world of “doing stuff” outdoors is to not go outdoors. And I nailed that shit this weekend!
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
We had a minor heatwave today, with temps up to 23˚ at the time of lumbering. You wouldn’t think four extra degrees could make a difference, but indeed they did.
I started off this first full week of the 2025 Ignorance is Bliss Tour with a 5.50-mile hike in crisp, to say the least, 19˚ temps.
Since I’m at the age where I see enough balls dropping just by looking in the mirror, I continued my custom of being in bed several hours before midnight on New Year’s Eve.
