Yet another unneeded brief message from the President and CEO of thesoiledchamois.net, and Soiled Chamois Enterprises, Inc.™
Dear Reader,
I apologize in advance for this post. I started it on Friday but then became slightly “under the influence.” So I shelved it until Saturday evening. But then I became under the influence again and shelved it until Sunday morning. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I tried to clean up this mess up as best I could, but I don’t care enough to work on it any longer. It also seems I enjoy being under the influence a bit too much. But we all knew that. I’ll let you decide which parts were written when.
— Management
As mentioned in my last unneeded post about nothing, I experienced a bit of knee pain while on the Dreadmill the other day. Well, thankfully, that pain didn’t stick around, and I was back to doing “sprint” intervals the very next day and actually felt really good (enough) over the 3 miles.
I might not have looked all that good; factoring in weight, age, girth (stomach, not penis), running style, flopping jowls, pasty Michi-yinzer skin, an ass like a flaccid scrotum, fashion choices (a Smiths t-shirt for the win), etc., etc., but I FELT good (enough) and had one of my best “cardio” sessions in a while. It was one of those workouts that left me wondering how I’m as fit as I am, given the extra 75 pounds I carry around.
All that wondering about my fitness only served to throw fuel on the fire of the latest QAnon conspiracy theory that has something to do with left-wing thugs (I think we have those) capturing and forcing a once fit me into a fat suit provided by the Hollywood elite and made to live out the rest of my days running on a treadmill only to never to see any results. It also seems that I’m also now a kingpin in a worldwide human trafficking operation that somehow involves Hunter Biden, Hillary Clinton, high gas prices, and the Taco Boy drive-thru window. Go figure1.
Come Friday, my legs were feeling every one of those 15 sprints, and I started to think I may not be as fit as I think I am. Sadly, despite admitting the truth about my lack of fitness, I apparently remain on a QAnon black list circulating on Facebook via your crazy-ass aunt and uncle. They say it has to do with my liberal agenda and my annual war on Christmas2.
Even though my legs were feeling every step of Thursday’s lumber, I headed back to the gym for an easy two-mile walk on the Dreadmill and my Silver Sneaker-ish strength training on Friday morning. I was happy that I forced my ass to go, but I was also stoked to have two gym-free days in front of me.
Saturday was a cool, wet, and dreary day so I headed into the woods for some photo-walkin’. It felt great to be outside in the dankness, and I had the whole Sylvan preserve to myself as I stomped around in the mud, taking lackluster photos.
After the walk, it was home to chill, watch football, drink some beers and eventually make a homemade pizza for dinner before readying my camera gear for B’s first soccer game of his last season playing club soccer on Sunday.
Thankfully the weather gods are offering up some warmer temps and sun on Sunday. Now, if I can just get back into the groove of photographing soccer, its’ been like 5 months, and I’m a little nervous. If you see some pics here or on my Instagram feed in the coming days you’ll know I found my groove again.
OK, time to go do some work on my agenda.
Later.