As previously mentioned, Monday was a mush-fest on the trails, and I was this close *does that thing where you pinch two fingers together to show just how close it was* to aborting today’s lumber and parking my ass on the trainer in the basement for some fake bike riding.
The easiest thing you can do to secure coveted slack status in the world of “doing stuff” outdoors is to not go outdoors. And I nailed that shit this weekend!
Every one of my lumbers this week has been nearly the same. Oddly, that’s not really a bad thing.
The loops were all five miles in length, or just over. The temps were warmer (in the 20s and low 30s compared to -2˚ last week); however, while warmer, the temps have not been warm enough to melt the snow in the woods, barring a few small areas that receive direct sunlight. And that meant continuing to lumber over lumpy, slippery snow that makes for slow going, adding handfuls of minutes onto my average pace and taking its toll on my knees and darkened mind.
But hey, all that is just me trying to make my lumbers in the woods sound like something like more than a fat man walking trails in a futile attempt to feel better about himself.
As January weeks go, this one has been pretty darn OK-ish so far. I mean, after recent weeks, it really didn’t take much to improve, but I’ll take it.
Even by my extremely low standards, last week was not a great week in my world of quinquagenarian, repetitive, borderline autistic, outdoor fitness micro-adventures. Between multiple days of extreme cold and one day of bad luck trying to get to the trails, I found myself on the treadmill in the basement three times last week, including before the football started on Saturday morning. That’s three more times than I wanted.
With that said, my winter beer belly recently informed me that I needed to get back to running and high-intensity heart rate Zone 3 and 4-type shit, so I guess it wasn’t all bad. After a month or so of slow, wintry slogs, it felt good to see my heart rate hitting 160 or more during my intervals. And I didn’t stroke out and get shot off the back of the treadmill like a belt-propelled fatty turd, so that’s a bonus.
After a few days out of the woods and in the Not So Stankment on the treadmill, it was awesome to return to lumbering outside on Thursday morning and doing 5.28 miles as the flakes fell. And the temps were 20 degrees warmer, which felt like a heatwave compared to -2˚ earlier in the week.
The lumpy snow and ice continue to make for slow speeds as well as doing a number on my ankles, knees, and hips, but compared to past winters where I was dealing with such things as raging plantar fasciitis in both feet and a painful corn that wouldn’t heal on a pinky toe, things aren’t too bad.
Two weeks ago, I lumbered over 30 miles and felt great. Last week, I lumbered 20 miles on slippy, lumpy snow and felt like an aching bag of shit by the end. Come the weekend, I sat my fat ass inside and did nothing. Then, I woke up Monday morning at 6 AM, rolled over, farted twice, looked at the -1˚ weather icon on my phone, and said, “fuck it.”
I wish I had something of interest to blather on about, but alas, things have been “samey” here the past few days years: get up in the dark, feed Lola, coffee up, dump out, layer up, drive to the trails, lumber for 4 miles in the snow, have it feel like 10, go home, wish for spring, make a cappuccino, shower, get my shit done, and then end the day watching football. Followed by making food, having a beer, going to bed, and doing it all again the next day.
On the one hand, that’s a pretty good day; on the other hand, it’s a prime example of trying to make the best out of the long, cold, dark month of January. It’s survival mode, with one eye on spring and the other on the dismal weather forecast.
Tuesday was another morning of stuffing myself into cold-weather gear and begrudgingly heading out for a lumber in temps, struggling to make it into the double digits. However, I was quick to realize that, outside of a four-hour flight to Jamaica, there’s no place I’d rather be heading off to on a Tuesday morning.
Before I blather on for no reason whatsoever about the mundane, goofball stuff I do, I wanted to take a second to give a shout-out to the readers and folks I’ve got to know over the years from the Los Angeles and Southern California area. I hope you, your families, and your homes are all safe. Be careful out there.
OK, now on, with tales of my blissful ignorance whilst walking in the woods with my camera.
