I fully admit my posts have taken on an opinionated, dark tone lately. This is not the person I’ve been working hard for the past few years to become, and I’m committed to trying to get back to my normal goofball shenanigans where for no good reason, I write about crap outdoor fitness activities done by a 53-year-old moron, and other stupid shit that nobody but me cares about.
— Management
I needed to get 4.75 miles in over the weekend to meet my 25-mile goal, and I am sorry to report that it didn’t happen.
After a rainy Tuesday “run,” later that afternoon, I ran out of things to do to keep my mind from contemplating the shit show of right-wing stupidity that is modern America. So I found myself amongst the landscaping with my macro set up, taking photos in a failing attempt to ease my mind in between rain showers.
I chased around a yellow jacket from rose bush to rose bush, took a few crappy macro shots, and then retreated inside to edit and “clear my mind” with an IPA or twelve.
After a relaxing weekend, I found myself back in the woods stomping out a 5+ mile lumber on an early, crisp, sunny autumn morning.
After Friday’s 10-mile lumber at Mid, I spent the weekend doing next to nothing. NOTHING. I ate lots of carby goodness, watched too much footy, and drank some excellent beer.
However, despite completing a week filled with many firsts for me (my fastest ever 5-mile run and completing my first 10-mile lumber), I found myself in an unexplained, deep, misanthropic funk on Sunday that I could not shake.
After yesterday’s “run” and no quality photos taken, I was eager to return to the woods on Tuesday morning to lumber with my camera.
I have to say, Ma Nature really came through for me and presented me with multiple photo opportunities that I promptly missed, either due to photographer error or lack of a clear shot. Girl was lobbing me big ol’ softballs, and I was whiffing at every chance!
Photo is NOT good enough, but all I got today.
The weekend consisted of one day of active rest and one day of absolute slack other than Sexy Time, and both were great. And when you add in the Chamois Mood Tax that was enacted during the first Trump administration, that brings it down to “pretty darn not bad.”
I only needed just 2.75 miles to hit my 25-mile goal for the week, so with no club football on,1Wifey and I went out to the Hall’s Lake Nature Preserve to stomp a few low-key miles.
Somedays, you just know something is going to hurt, and other days you don’t. I thought today would be just another “run” and be consistent with other recent runs. Sadly, it was much less than that. But it was still something.
Once again, I was on the trail as the sun rose this morning, this time for a 5-mile “run” on my original run loop to gauge progress.
The temps were in the high 40s, and I debated on whether to wear long sleeves or not, but then I looked at my hulking body in the mirror and remembered how much sweat I put out. I stuck with the short sleeves.
