
I had a loose plan to do my version of running on Thursday and found myself at the trailhead parking lot and ready to go at 7:45.

I had a loose plan to do my version of running on Thursday and found myself at the trailhead parking lot and ready to go at 7:45.

After three lumberless days, I was back in the woods early Wednesday morning for a slow but much-needed 5-mile hike. It felt swell. Not great, but swell.

I’m now entering my third day without a lumber. It’s not good, but it’s not bad.
Sunday was spent doing normal Sunday stuff (sans lumber) and included such activities as watching grass grow, making/eating food, drinking beer, flipping through channels looking for some shred of international football to watch (thank you, Scottish Premiership), and having sexy time (not exactly in that order, but sometimes done at the same time).

I was up and in the woods by 7:15 Saturday morning, looking to stomp out 5 miles, hit my 25-mile weekly goal, and get home for breakfast and coffee while watching the USWNT quarter-final game.
That was the plan, until it wasn’t.

Wednesday’s “runber” was a mild success for me (I don’t run), but it came with a painful cost, and that meant skipping a lumber/run altogether on Thursday to concentrate on mowing the lawn and a variety of other tasks about the Cul De Sac Shack that required functioning feet.

Tuesday night was a horrible night’s sleep, and I found myself wide awake at 2 AM and unable to get in the temperature zone: too hot, then too cold, then needing to pee, then falling asleep, then repeating the process until 6 AM when I could finally end the cycle and get out of bed.

It was nice to give my legs a day off from lumbering and attempts at running on Sunday, although, without proper club football to fill my afternoon hours, I did such activities as spend time with Wifey (I told you my potagerian efforts would pay off!), trim some landscaping, listen to music, and stare blankly at the irrigation system as it watered the front lawn whilst I sipped from my chalice, King of Thule style.

I was relieved to wake up on Friday with my knee continuing to feel good. It’s been a month-long journey of Googling, avoiding real doctors, and pain that appeared to finally improve by actually pushing myself harder and running.
I say “appeared” because while I 100% said “fuck it” and started running because it felt way better than hiking, I know that 1. that wasn’t the right thing to do, and 2. that’s PROBABLY not what improved it.

In recent weeks, I have evolved into skipping breakfast before my lumbers, relying solely on a big mug of coffee to fuel me, and saving actual breakfast for after.
I think it started during a heat wave a few weeks ago that had me trying to get into the woods as early as possible and sort of stuck. Additionally, there’s less chance that I have to make one of my patented Soiled Woodsy Dumps® because there’s not much in my gut.

While I wait for aging, hurt body parts to improve while lumbering, I continue to plod/run through the woods because, for some reason, that does not hurt. Well, it doesn’t hurt my knee.