My Achilles Heel and So On

Hey everyone, it's Monday and it's a chilly one here in the fabulous Berkshires. This weekend was also chilly, but it at least hung in the teens. Today was in the single digits with high wind; thank Jeebus my car was in the garage. Too bad I forgot my gloves.

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The Frost Bit My Ankles

On Saturday morning I joined the RRFs on a birthday "run" for Bad Jim. Run is in quotes because we did more walking than running.

We headed across a big ass, wide open, windblown field, up a road and into the trails by the Visitor Center at the bottom of Mount Greylock. Did I mention we were running in snowshoes? Yeah, we were.

Roughly two steps into the "run" it became evident that my ankle socks were not going to cut it. Not only were they short, but they didn't even reach up to the bottom of my tights (yes, I wear running tights and yes, I love them). In snowshoes, every step tosses snow up your back and, more importantly that day, onto your ankles.

Normally this isn't a problem, but when your ankles are exposed to the elements and you do this thousands of times it gets a bit painful. Not to mention that once we hit the woods the snow was a foot and a half deep. Even wearing snowshoes you sink into the light fluffy snow a good six inches or more. The only respite I had from the wind on them was when the snow was caked so thickly on my socks that it blocked the air. This of course meant there was ice packed against my Achilles tendons.

For all intents and purposes my ankles were packed in ice for an hour and a half. Not regular ice either, but rough, sandpaper-like, grinding ice. By the time we got back to Bad Jim's house I could no longer feel my Achilles tendons. I swapped my drenched, ice-encrusted socks for dry wool socks and felt much better. They're still sore today if that tells you anything. I guess you could say that my Achilles Heels are my Achilles tendons.

After that "run" I went over to the Arcadian Shop and treated myself to some gaiters and taller socks.

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Lent is Quickly Approaching

I'm not one for giving up anything for Lent for a number of reasons. First of all, I have so few vices left that I feel giving up one more might really offset the balance and send me off the deep end. Second, I think religion is dumb. At least most religion. I'm more of a Golden Rule kind of guy.

It dawned on me today that maybe this year I could try to give up something for Lent. My initial thought was to give up desserts because lately I have been grazing on sugar and butter like it's going out of style. Fortunately I know what happens when you deprive yourself of desserts, you gorge on them. So I'm come up with something I can give up that would be beneficial to my life but not totally mess me up.

I'm thinking I might give up TV. I know I've told all of you that I don't really like TV, and you all probably know that I have the ghettoest cable you can get (it's now less than $10 a month after fees and taxes), but I still watch it. I just watch worse programming and fuzzier channels than most people (National Geographic Channel, why must you be so fuzzy?).

The truth of it is that I really only watch out of boredom, and I think I could easily find better uses for my time than watching the tube. If all goes well I might be able to completely ween myself off it before summer hits. That would be a win-win as far as I'm concerned.

Now, the one caveat is that I'd allow myself to watch movies. Sometimes a movie is just what the Dr. ordered, and it's not the same mindless activity that watching shitty programming is.

For now I'm going to marinate on the idea. I should have my decision by Wednesday, which is the official start of Lent.

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In the Clink

Speaking of National Geographic Channel, there was a show on last night about prison. I've seen the show before but, out of boredom, I sat through it again. It's not an expose on salad tossing or anything like that, but rather a documentary about the violence and gang life in our prisons. The had all sorts of footage depicting the violent nature of prisoners, and the way they all seem to accept it. It's a way of life we don't understand on this side of the walls.

Unfortunately I was unable to purge my mind of that show before I went to bed, and my sleep was plagued with dreams of being incarcerated and getting shanked (or is it shivved in prison?). At one point we were all just running around stabbing eachother for no reason at all. I think it was like getting jumped into a gang, you had to get stabbed to be able to stab someone else.

Note to self, don't go to prison.

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Well everyone, I hope your week is swell. Mine is a short week because this is our Friday off. PlacaTAN!

Over and Out,
Old Coot