Tag Archives | sorry attempts at humor

700 Miles, Birds, & Viagra Boys

I remember back in the days when I thought I was “training” for mountain bike races (AKA, paying an exorbitant—borderline criminal—entry fee as a solo racer to ride my bike for a long time, become totally dehydrated, and destroy myself and my bikes in the name of perceived fun). 

In those days I would follow a lightly researched, poorly self-prescribed plan that loosely followed periods of building, pushing, and recovery based on the periodization model “real” athletes follow that includes Base, Build, Peak, and Race. Since I have no inherent talent for bike racing, and a couple of 3rd place finishes were the best I ever had, mostly due to Solo attrition rates, this plan either worked extremely well or not at all.

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No Big Deal

Damn, it feels good to be almost kind of like spring (as well as a gangster, but you know that). And it feels even better to have returned to the trails after a brief bout of desperation (not referring to my pre-Wifey sex life).

However, to quote Sponge Bob, “All that glitters is not gold,” for my eagerness to jump back right into my “normal” hikes of 4 to 5 miles at my “fast for a fat guy who’s not actually running” pace has brought back a case of mild plantar fasciitis still left-over from using shitty hiking boots over the winter. 

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Desperate Times

These are desperate times, and I am a desperate man.

This week, my longing to walk and hike on snow-free trails drove me (literally) to a couple of my old Dirt Road Launching Pads1 to use as a “trailhead.”

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And The Day Before That

Honking of Own Platypus Alert!

Sunday marked the 6-month anniversary of the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special/2023 Soil The Woods Tour, and I, of course, celebrated with a short morning hike in the snow to put me at 600.95 miles hiked since September 19th.

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Getting Back & Power Chords

Writing is sort of like self-gratification; if you stop doing it every day, it’s real easy to lose your mojo. At least, that’s what I assume my creepy college Creative Writing professor would have said had I actually gone to college and had I actually ever taken a creative writing class. 

And that is my way of saying that I got off track with my blog writing due to spending too much time in the wintry woods, taking shitty photos, perfecting the dark art of the homemade veggie burger, and of course, self-gratifying. But like wayward vomit to a drunkard’s shoes, I’m back!

At least until I get sidetracked again.

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The Ever-Learning Lumberist

Last week was completely and utterly forgettable. The snow/freeze/thaw/freeze/snow situation only got worse, and the calluses on my feet that I was “this close” to being rid of became more painful due to my feet constantly adapting to the frozen and or soft and lumpy terrain. To quote my wife, “poop.”

As a result, I found myself housebound for a few days to mentally and physically prepare to get back this week.

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The Winter Contingency Act

I started the 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special (now the 2023 Soil The Woods Tour) a little over five months and 540 miles ago, and I have to say, outside of some nagging injuries here and there, the past few weeks have been the hardest.

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Stomps of The Week

In the wake of last Monday night’s horrific events in East Lansing, it was nice to have B back under our roof for a few days. It was also nice to let go of some negative emotions and rage by stomping out some miles in the woods.

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The First 500

It’s been a nugget hair under 5 months since I traded my increasingly little used soiled chamois and/or The Bed of Torment for a pair of hiking shoes. In that time, I have grown to appreciate hiking (also known as walking if you’re not in the woods) in a way I never did before, and I now find myself in the woods hiking 4 to 5 miles a day, 6 to 7 days a week, with a modest goal of 25 miles per week minimum. Except for snow week curveballs like last week. 

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