Thinking & A Friday Run

I was recently thinking (I know, I know, I shouldn’t) about this whole lumbering thing I’ve been doing for the past two years, which has sometimes morphed into attempts at trail running, especially recently, and why I have been enjoying it despite not being good at it.

I can’t even remember the last year that I felt like I had a good year on the bike; maybe 2015 or 16? And even then, I was in a steady decline of cycling fitness with little desire to keep riding the same flat roads and trails. The burnout was so strong you needed an industrial-sized can of OZIUM to mask the scent. A 25-mile gravel road ride with very little climbing would have me sitting on the Garage Step of Crap Fitness Reflection, wondering what the hell I was going to do with my life if I couldn’t do a proper ride.

It turns out that I would do next to nothing but eat too much, drink too much, hate too much, and slip into the third major depressive period in my life with “exercise” consisting of some photo creeps in the woods and forcing myself to go to the gym (some years) after a long morning of hiding under the covers in the Bed of Torment.

At the gym I would lift heavy things even though I hated it and lumber on the treadmill for 30 to 60 minutes1.

Blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada.

Fast forward to 2022, when I started hiking almost daily, steadily increasing my speed and distance, and eventually started running off and on. Mostly off.

As you may have noticed here, I really took to it, and not long after I started The 2022 Comeback Special, I canceled my gym membership and never looked back.

After years of obsessing about all things cycling, I’ve now found joy in pushing myself physically in the woods, but this time on my own two feetz.

Why?

I’ve realized that I’m finding the same passion as I did with cycling, but since I have no real history compare it to, it’s fresh all the time, even though I do most of it on the same nearby trail system.

Unless I’m in actual pain, if I have a bad hike, lumber, or run, I really don’t care because it’s never been my jam. I do it alone, and I am my own competition. And for non-running lumbers, I always have my camera with me as I did with my rides. And that makes things even better for me.

It totally reminds me of back in 1992 when I started riding my bike. A mile ride out the road and back was a big fucking deal to me; a 250-pound dude (DOWN 50 POUNDS!) wearing a button down shirt, jean shorts (not the cool kind, the kind dads wear), Vans, no helmet, and a pair of old gardening gloves (they had small flowers printed all over them) I found in the garage to keep the blisters on my hands from worsening. Ignorance was indeed bliss.

Then, less than 5 years later, I was doing long road rides, group rides, mountain bike rides, and races. And I was probably on my 3rd bike!

I was in near-constant physical improvement for years, and the motivation to keep improving was addictive, as was getting my weight down to an unbelievable (for me) 175 pounds at one point. I’m not good at math, but I had lost as many pounds as most 7th graders weigh.

Sure, I plateaued, and eventually, age, motivation, depression, self-loathing, weight gain, poor choices in doctors (Looking at you Mindbender II, The Wrath of Kahn), the want to never leave the house, and all the shit I’ve blathered on about here before caught up with me, but that was over a 30 year span of cycling.

That joyous naivety of a new fitness obsession and addiction to seeing improvement is where I am now with lumbering and running. And, just like riding, I’ve also enjoyed the health benefits; weight loss (how much, I don’t know because I don’t weigh myself, but it was -30 pounds this time last year), lower blood pressure, perfect blood work, and way less depression and anxiety. Things that could be even better if I cut back on beer and my love of pizza, but fuck that shit.

Make no mistake, I am a realist, and I know that a hiking obsession and starting to trail run at 53 years old means that I don’t have a large window to work with before things go pear-shaped and that I will be way more prone to injuries than I was at 20, but I think you probably know those two words that I like to say.

In my life, I have gotten little to no personal satisfaction from things like working for other people, education, and buying “stuff,” but the mental rub and a tug of seeing/feeling improved health and fitness while experiencing the joy, beauty, and critters of the forest (or mountains if you’re one of the lucky ones) is pretty amazing, especially for someone who was judged, criticized, made fun of, taunted, shamed, and mentally thrashed by nearly everyone in his life from the ages of 10 to 20 because of his weight and perceived laziness2 . (Hello, Lexapro, hello, O.G. Mindbender!! Damn glad to meet you, thanks for saving me).

So, I’m going to keep enjoying my time on the trails for as long as I can, and I care little if I am running, hiking, riding, crawling, or killing over on them. 

Later.

Part II Friday’s Run

Today (Friday), I did a 5.30-mile loop in 1:05:09 while it thundering and pissing down buckets of rain. I also ran my first FULL outdoor mile ever (EVER) without walking. Oddly enough, I did the same loop last Friday, and it was the SAME exact time down to the second. That’s freaking crazy!

I really thought today’s time would have been much better, but I suppose being soaked from head to toe and the extra care to avoid slippery roots and rocks added up. Still, the fun of being in the woods while it rains and thunders is one of my favorite things in the world.

I hit my 25-mile weekly goal today (25.93) and may take the entire weekend off, but I have a feeling I might get out for a lumber at some point with my camera somewhere to blow the stink off me.

Note: No photos today, as it was pissing down rain the entire time. The ones you see here are from earlier this week on the same trails and a phone pic of my soaking wet clothes as I stood naked (ewwww!) near the laundry room.

 

  1. In hindsight, it was good that I did at least that much, or I really would have been fucked in the fitness department.
  2. Those 80s-era traumas and feelings came back in a BIG way via the post-cycling depression weight gain, the magazine ending, Mike dying, COVID, and half the country turning into a cesspool of right-wing, “We The People fuck-faced Patriot” tits who think they’ve been “tread on.”

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