Here’s To New Years (My Toast to Some People)

Hashtag:  I don’t make New Year’s resolutions.  Sadly, I have an excuse.

If the world was a safe place, we’d all be in better shape.

Let’s make this clear.  I don’t enjoy jogging.  If someone was chasing me years ago, I used to enjoy a good sprint now and then.  Unless I am  participating in a sport involving some sort of ball, with the exception of soccer, I get no kick out of running these days.  However, since we live next to a beautifully wooded park with trees filled with squirrels, owls, eagles, and sometimes, murderers, I make it a point to stroll through the park on a daily basis.  Walking becomes my movement of choice so I can more easily spot the beauty nesting, perching, crawling, or spying from the trees.

I like to take advantage of the park by either walking or jogging in it with one of our dogs.  If I have my choice of walking or running in a park whose trails lead to the majestic Puget Sound with an Olympic Mountain backdrop as opposed to a gymnasium where there are far too many mirrors. I choose the outdoors.  It’s a terrifically medicinal and physically healthful activity for Etta (the only dog who wakes up as early as I do) and me.

Mornings work best for me when working out.  If I don’t do it then, I probably won’t do it all.  Getting some exercise out of the way early also allows me to return home to share quality time with my wife who claims she has a job to get to by nine or ten in the morning.  Seems like a win win for all of us.  Not so damn fast.  The sun doesn’t rise until about 7:30, and I am ready to roll by 6:00 a.m..  In a perfect world, this shouldn’t be a problem or an excuse for me not to get my Irish Icehole down to the park on a daily morning basis.  Unfortunately, there is a significant glitch and legitimate excuse for me to stay home and, instead, use our eucalyptus (elliptical) machine which I despise.  Annually, there is a murder at this park when the sun is down.  People are advised to stay out of the park until daylight hours.  Normally, if I didn’t have a family to feed my family, (and by that, I mean cook for) I would probably take my chances.  (It’s probably the only reason my wife doesn’t encourage me to go.)  But, there is nothing worse than worrying about being ambushed at any moment passing a tree by a common ne’er-do-well lurking behind one of the pines sporting a knife, gun, machete or chainsaw.

So, here’s a toast to all those sons of bitches out there who scare the hell out of me, making it that much more difficult for me to maintain my girlish figure and for all those others struggling to fulfill their New Year’s Resolutions because of these Lincoln Park Pirates.  I guess most of the pirates won’t be capable of reading this, so I will do the next best thing any good Catholic boy would do.  I will simply pray for them each night and request they all burn in Hell.

Cheers

 

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