Tag Archives | journal-ish

A January Breakdown

I thought that January broke me on Saturday when I looked out the window, saw heaps of rain-soaked snow, and said, “fuck it, I’m ‘running’ on the treadmill.” I was wrong.

No, January would save the real breakdown for Monday morning’s hike.

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Lasagna and Improvements

The outside was a mess of ice, melting snow, slush, and rain on Friday, and after 15 miles of snowshoeing already completed, I was a mess of aching knees, stiff calves, sore hip flexors, and an arthritic mind. So with that, I took Friday off to bask in the glow of the dank sky and catch up on some long overdue house shit.

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Mo, Jo, and Momo

The start of the week was awesome, with two 5-mile snowshoe hikes through the cold and snow. It was a great workout, and it felt awesome to be back outside after two days spent goofing off indoors

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What’s Old is New Again

Do you smell that? It smells like hyperbole.
– Me

I’m no good at this. 

While you may think that I’m about to say I’m no good at this whole “life” thing, and I tend to believe I’m not, I’m actually referring to multiple days off from outdoor activities. In post-blizzard Michigan, during the longest, darkest, coldest, rope-to -the-fucking-attic month of the year.

It’s been four days since I was last in the woods, and it might as well be 4 months. While I know it’s near impossible, I feel like I’ve lost every shred of fitness I gained over the last 16+ months; my Instagram feed is set to be bombarded with ads for big and tall stores (again), and the brain that I have worked so hard to semi-salvage from a sticky web of depression and life-long self-loathing is set to go into shut-down mode and return me to the fart scented sheets of The Bed of Torment.

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Some Miles & First Stomps

Part I, Tuesday, 6:17 AM

I was up at 6 AM on Tuesday to tend to the dogs, drink giant mugs of coffee, make food, and slack around the internet in the dark, waiting for dark grey daylight sometime after 8 AM and a chance to get some miles in my feet.

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Post-Holiday Normalcy

There is nothing quite as satisfying as waking up in the morning, coming downstairs, and not seeing one shred of proof that Christmas ever happened.

I sort of, kind of jest, of course. Despite my loathing of the Christmas season and 97.4% of everything it stands for, I had a damn good holiday, and I have to give a big thanks to Wifey and B for making this holiday perfect by just being their easy-going, lovable selves.

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Holiday Week Mush Brain Spew

This is a long one, people. No reason, really; I just found myself wasting time every so often this week and writing down random shit.

6:05 AM on Christmas Morning, and I was up as usual. 

No, I wasn’t waiting to gleefully rip through a giant pile of presents (although there was one with my name on that I had my eye on); I was up waiting for the freaking sun to start thinking about rising so I could squeeze in a few miles before we did the version of Christmas Morning you do when it’s just a couple and their 19-year-old son who is now thankfully way more into sleep than opening holiday presents.

Sadly, the sun wouldn’t be fully up until after 8, so that meant I had nothing to do but tend to the dogs, drink coffee, and look at the ever-declining interwebs until I had enough light for woodsy lumbering without a headlamp.

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