winter has meted out its early season dose of intoxicants, and it was perfect timing.
sunlight after snow, oberg flocked in white.
the trails are getting a taste of “what for” by the groomers right now, and while i was somewhat eager to ski, my back is telling me it is not a good idea and that instead, i should have another 0xycontin and glass of wine.
it is 6:30 in the morning.
as i push past middle life and enter the golden, incontinent years, i know i need to be a bit smarter. i can’t just go out and put in a 10 mile trail run or a 50 mile bike ride as i did so many times during my halcyon years. no…i need to stretch and expand the range of movement in ligaments and tendons and muscles and while i am at it, i should do something about my inflexible self-image.
my hips appear to be bearing the brunt of rigidity. not that i am bitching.
and how could i when the pine grosbeaks have been visiting my feeders regularly and the squirrels have made a sensory connection between my presense and intense, localized pain.
tomorrow, he said in a procrastinative tone, i will ski and do so with the elan of my youth. i will scamper up the hills and glide effortlessly on the descent, utilizing my 50 extra pounds to provide momentum that knows no limits. and on those descents, you might want to make sure you move out of the way because i am starting to think i might be on a mission this winter.
get it while you can.
we may not be here tomorrow.