This week started off simultaneously good and bad.
The good was that I was back in the woods on Monday morning for a 6-mile hike. The bad was not just the return of winter with gusting winds and snow flurries; it was also bad because I realized that my back is more fucked than I thought, and my knee has flared up with what I have self-diagnosed as some minor patellar tendinitis. OR syphilis, I’m no doctor.
On the other hand (or foot, as it were), my corn has been making real progress, my plantar fasciitis is under control with stretching, and my Achilles pain has improved immensely with foam rolling.
I’ve quoted Grandma Helen before, and I’m doing it again, “It’s hell getting old.”
Nature’s gutter.
It’s also probably a big sign that I pushed a bit hard for my girth and age over the past few weeks and should really rest a few days and let my body heal a bit. I’m not a fan of rest, lest my idle mind slip back into the pit of despair, and I go on a Jet’s Pizza binge.
I took today off (Tuesday) and did some icing, heating, stretching, and massaging of various muscles, body parts, organs, and appendages with little to no desired effect.
It’s hell getting old
Unless there is a bread and fish type miracle overnight, I can’t imagine that I’ll push to lumber tomorrow either. Well, at least I know I shouldn’t. Of course, I also know I do a lot of stupid things and then bitch and moan at length about them.
Deer captured through a patch of dark woods.
Later.
THE SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST
Sing it Wolfie!