
I’m starting to sound like a broken record, or a corrupt file for you youngsters, but I find myself —yet again—playing shit show catchup.

I’m starting to sound like a broken record, or a corrupt file for you youngsters, but I find myself —yet again—playing shit show catchup.

My excuses are longer than a porn star’s manhood. My slack is stronger than a pre-castrated bull. And my waistline’s girth and body weight are that of a Mart-Cart fatty with a basket full of Ding Dongs and Mountain Dew.

This past week was another busy one: There was time working in the shop, time shuttling B (and other neighborhood teammates) to soccer scrimmages and conditioning sessions, mind bender appointments, bike sales (goodbye Fatterson), family duties, house duties, a wedding anniversary (our 22nd), a birthday (my 48th), and some dirt road riding.

I won’t try to recap the week. It wasn’t that interesting, and I don’t have enough 48-year-old brain cells left to attempt to make it so. Instead, I will post some pics, say I’m mentally feeling good, physically looking like a walking sack of SPAM, and hoping for another week of riding, pedaling for pixels.

Wednesday night as I looked at the next day’s schedule of Dad duties, house duties, and a mid-afternoon appointment with my mind bender, I made the decision that I would get up with the dogs at 5:45 AM, get them fed and outside to poop, then immediately get out for a ride. This would have me home in plenty of time to get B to his morning conditioning session at the soccer fields.

After a day at the shop on Friday, I was eager to get out on the new bike (Mr. Burgundy) and dial it in on Saturday.

When I say “gimp” I am not referring to how I feel due to the laundry list of health issues I have that include: shit hearing in one ear, tendonitis in my right elbow, worsening arthritis in my left thumb joint, edema in my legs, degenerative arthritis in my lower back, a history of DVTs in my legs, plantar fasciitis in my left heel, ongoing depression, and 50+ pounds of weight gain.
I’m of course referring to being the Shop Gimp.

Hiking. It’s pretty much just walking. And walking it just putting one foot in front of the other. So, with Michigan being graced with another day of Pittsburgh-like “partly cloudy skies” and rain on Saturday, I was back in the woods putting one foot in front of the other with my camera.

I’ve never been a great writer, but enjoy writing; thus, the continued publication of this blog. Sorry?
However, in the past couple of months, my posts have become more subpar than usual. One of the major factors has been the appearance of Lola (the dog) in my life. I love her, but she’s a puppy and puppies need near constant attention lest ye have your living room shat upon and chewed to bits. Every week she gets a little better, but finding moments of peace to sit down and write can be difficult when home alone.

I got out for a nice 27-mile ride on Tuesday. I’ve had better rides, but God knows I’ve had worse rides, so I’ll just shut my cake trap and be happy that I was out on my bike, the sun was out, and I returned with the faint hints of sunburn to my raw chicken fat looking man-flesh.