Canary in a Coal Mine

The trail was muffled from the night's snow-globesque snow. The trees were coated with a thin layer of what looked like icing...it reminded me of those Iced Animal Crackers or cookies. I'm never sure which is which. An involved, scientific and hilarious analysis can be found here: http://www.fhsu.edu/biology/Eberle/AnimalCookies.html





I took the trail out past Victor Hills Golf Club. There was about two inches of fluff but the crust underneath made steering interesting. You didn't so much steer as lean your body the way you wanted to go.





A red fox stopped several hundred yards in front of me. He was in profile but turned his head at my approach. He allowed me until 50 yards until he trotted off down an embankment scarred by the tracks of four-wheelers. "When I was your age kid, they only had three wheels and didn't have this fancy electric start. You actually had to pull a cord. Threw my back out during the big frost of '85. Damned thing froze up! You kids got it easy I tells ya!"





In the area of Rte. 444 and Dryer Rd. I saw an old caboose. I don't suppose they are making any new cabooses and this wood-sheathed car probably hasn't caboosed in some time. It was red and suffered some graffiti but it looked friendly and even though a sign cautioned about not trespassing and even cited the proper New York State Penal Law code (140.05) it is only a violation (less than a misdemeanor) and the next time I'm near there I'm going to take a picture and maybe get closer than I should. I suppose that citing the proper law code will keep people away.





"Hey Gladys look at that wonderful caboose!"

"Well, thanks, I have been working out--"


"NO! Up there on the tracks! Let's go!"


"Oh dear, we shouldn't, look at that sign. They cited the proper law code."


"You are right. They mean business, huh? Oh well, hey look a round leaf."





My back is my over-training canary in a coal mine and today I woke up and good ol' tweety, well, let's just hope he rests in peace. I was hoping the ride would loosen up the tightness in my lower back and alleviate some of the pain but afterwards I was walking around like Fred Sanford, pictured below:

I had, after consulting various online, offline and inline self-proclaimed experts, determined that I should have a recovery week that was precisely 2/3 of my last training week in hours. This was arbitrary and I'm reminded of the quote in Candide (sorry for another quote from that piece...I'm moving on to a Hemingway and am continuing with a Stephen King so hopefully this will be the last one), "I had no need of a guide to learn ignorance."

In the future I'll just go by feel or listen to Kitima who said, "That seems like a lot for a recovery week." She was right and my lower back confirmed it...I stumble off to the shower and bid you all adieu for a bit.