Last week was a snowy and cold one, but it felt great to be outside stomping miles through the woods rather than on a treadmill in the gym, going nowhere slow while trying to avert my eyes from the row of TVs in front of me beaming crap morning talk shows and right-wing news, as well as trying to ignore Karlee checking her booty gains in the mirror and Brice flexing his massive arms while disregarding the squat rack and his steroid-induced thinning hair which is offset by his ironic mustache.
Sure, I have abandoned Operation Peck Lift III and lost all my gains again, but I’m much happier outside, embracing shit weather, taking photos, and, let’s face it, pushing myself through the aches and pains that an out-of-shape 51-year-old doofus feels when hiking 4+ miles 6 to 7 days a week while attempting to stave off the depression that had me opting for hours staring a dusty ceiling fan (since dusted) while laying in the Bed of Torment wondering how one person could be filled with so much self-loathing, even on the nicest of summer days.
I still don’t know the exact reasons I decided to exit the Chamber of Farts and start daily hikes back in September, but I’m glad I did, and Saturday marked the 2-month mark of my 2022 Not Dead Yet Comeback Special, with my current mileage at 232 miles as of today (Tuesday afternoon). The funny/sad thing is that in the eight months leading up to September 19th, my TOTAL mileage hiked was just 235 miles, and nearly all of that was on a treadmill! The Black Dog is a bastard.
I also have no idea how and when this ends; Weight loss? Lower cholesterol? An Achilles torn from my heel bone? Back surgery? Legendary status as the best day hiker in the township? Or maybe I start a short-lived magazine and website dedicated to the niche market of depressed day hikers called MDD Lumbers™ that will ultimately fail due to a lack of business experience and leave me so disenfranchised with the idea of walking, hiking, and hikers, that I take a Mart Cart™ everywhere for the rest of my earth-bound days and write about it ad nauseam on this blog? Let’s just go with better cholesterol numbers and keeping The Black Dog at bay.
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This random tomato has sat on this post for a month now.
Later.
SOILED SOUNDS TRACK OF THE POST:
I just discovered Hot Garbage a week ago when a song of theirs came on Spotify randomly. However, since then, they’ve found their way into my ear holes on a daily basis.
The mix of droning organs, slack hypnotic beats, dark surf, and trippy shoegaze makes their debut LP, Ride, a perfect album to put on the Hi-Fi and listen to loudly and is bound to make any evening getting black-out drunk and avoiding the coming holidays better. I jest.
See, I don’t just listen to old shit that no one ever liked; I’m listening to new shit no one will ever like, too!