Somewhere between miles 1 and 434 of my drive home from Pennsylvania last week, I made the executive decision to start writing and posting here more frequently. And I did!
Then I didn’t.
Tag Archives | not doing stuff
Shut Up & Play The Hits
NOTE: ALL POST-ILLNESS UPDATES ARE LOCATED BELOW
It’s been a month since I felt the need to post anything here; I apologize in advance for now breaking that silence like a wet fart birthed from betweenst the cheeks of that angry wino that hangs out on the corner of Roosevelt and Bluff.
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Later.
Rolling With It
Last week was busy as hell and hot as balls. Luckily I still got out for about 15 miles worth of hikes in the vaginally humid woods since my previous post, and today (Monday), the heatwave finally relented, and I got out for a Standard Dirt Road Ride in the morning before the breeze kicked up too much.
Drained
Oh, Saturday, how I remember you. I did a 22.5-mile dirt road ride from the house and sweat my balls off. I also hit one of my first weight-loss goals (-20 lbs). It was a good day. That lasted until about 11 AM.
Trees and Sand
We’ll start this unneeded post back on Friday, ’cause that was the next time I did something since the last time.
As I sat and sipped my A.M. coffee on, I started to get the itch to ride. Knowing that I am full-on mother fucking out of shape and the heat outside was some real swamp-ass type stuff, I knew it wouldn’t be a long ride, but I wanted outside. The plan was to ride the paved mid-Michigan pathway (or whatever the fuck it’s called) from MP towards Shepherd, then jump off for some dirt roads and then back. All in all, it would be about a 20-mile lollipop of a loop with a dogleg left and a cul-de-sac.
But it never happened.
Early Dog Days
It seems as if the Dog Days of Summer have arrived before summer even has; it hasn’t rained in weeks, the temps hover around 90˚, I sweat like a preacher (AMEN!) and that strange summertime boredom that usually doesn’t hit me until August has set it. At least until my bikes are healthy and in-country (rear-wheel repair and new bike build), the weather cools a bit, and I feel like leaving the house for more than a sweat-soaked hour at a time.
Oh well, the nine months of Michigan winter will be back soon enough, so I will reserve my bitching for then.
Still No Mojo
Note: This post may or may not sound like I’m a six-pack of beer and a 5 gallon-sized bag of weed into the weekend, but I assure you it’s only fueled by coffee, too much time on my hands, and cold rain pelting against my office window.
Nothing and Awards
I type this with one goal in mind: get to the end. Fast.
Dang Quesadillas!
Like the potent, sour smell of the men’s room in the mall, I’m back.