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Lost: Christmas Mountain Edition

We had a plan yesterday. December Endurance Day.

And while I wasn’t involved in the actual planning of any of it. I was still involved.

So I probably owe my people an apology for the shit show it turned into at one point.

But really. It’s on them.

I think. If I’d had to work today. I would’ve called in sick.

As it is, I’m gonna struggle to follow through on all the things I committed to today. This week.

My body is tired.

I think the first mistake was GJB putting me in charge of making sure everyone made it from Cycle class to Christmas.

“You’re in charge, Sunshine. Don’t let this shit fall apart.”

But…I can’t be trusted…


So the initial 20 miles Beautiful Beastie had planned to kick off the day didn’t happen. Because she and I have to pack up every damn thing we own to spend the day wardrobe changing between adventures.

And she also has to choreograph half of our adventures. Because that’s one of her actual jobs. That she gets paid to do.

Someone actually pays her to hurt us…

So I got to sleep in. And initially I was really excited about this.

But then I moved to get coffee and my legs were all like, psht. We weren’t running 20 this morning anyway. Not sure why you even thought that was an option. Two fucking days in a row on Bullshit Mountain. Remember that? Yeah. We good. Go get us coffee.

My legs and I thought we might head to the Carilion early to hot tub and foam roll before Cycle class. That’ll be nice.

But then I was instructed to be there at 11 to treadmill some miles.

Well that’s bullshit.

But ok.

And initially I was the only dumbass that followed the instruction.

While BB swam, like, 50 miles in the pool.

But then Tiny Brazilian showed up. And hopped on the treadmill next to me.

And even that was ok.

But then freakin Skratch and Goatfinder roll in. And start taunting us.

Because these people think they need to fill every fucking one of my days off with some form of torture.

Like, can we all just pick a day where we agree to just not even leave our homes? Or put on pants?


Because by the time they finished talking. Tiny Brazilian had decided that we were gonna run two fucking loops of North Fucking Mountain today. Before BB’s Body Pump class tonight. Because that sounds like a fucking excellent plan. And then another loop at some other point this week.

I don’t even know.

I shut the fuck down at that point.

But then K-Rob-D showed up.

And I don’t really remember how she did it. But she managed to talk TB out of North Mountain completely.

And into shit like yoga. And massages. And salt spas.

And I was all like, see legs? I take care of you. I didn’t even let that plan fully form.

And they were all like, whatever bitch. It’s cute how you think that we were ever gonna let it happen in the first place.

And so my legs and I agreed to take it easy in Deathclick class. Because Christmas was coming after.

And I was doing a decent job. Slacking off.

But then BB yelled at somebody to add more clicks. And I yelled at TB to add more clicks. And then BB yelled at somebody that if they were talking, they didn’t have enough clicks.

I don’t know. It’s a blur.

Because what happened next was, TB said I got us in trouble.

Except she said in that obnoxious sibling way.

And so I said, whatcha got on your deathclick dial? 30? Psht.

And turned mine up to 35.

So she turned hers up to 40.

Cool. 45. Whatcha got, chatty bitch?


Oh. Ok.

And so it went on like this until we both hit 80.

And neither of us could fucking pedal our bike.

BB had stopped even paying attention to us at that point.

So we called a truce.

And I went back to slacking off for the remainder of the class.

Enjoying my bags of potato chips. That BB gave me.


She wouldn’t have given me these if I wasn’t supposed to eat them.

I did make a solid effort in the core work part of class.

I mean, maybe not solid.

Solid is probably too strong a word.

But an effort.

I made a form of effort.

For some of it.

When I wasn’t texting.


I’ve got people that need my attention.

But at some point, we ran out of food to give me.

So I was struggling by the time we made it to GJB’s

Can I just have some fucking food before we go up???

Look. I brought all the people I was assigned to bring.

He let me have, like, two crackers.

And then pushed us out the door and up the mountain.

And my legs were like, you know it’s raining, right? You know it’s gonna be a bitch crawling up the side of this shit over slippery rocks and leaves.

Shhhh, legs. It’s Christmas.

And it was a struggle. Going up.

Like, a legit struggle.

And it was terrifying getting up onto the rock at the top.

K-Rob-D got stuck in a Sunshine Straddle on the craggy part leading on to the main rock.

Because when you fuck something up one little time, they name it after you.

But seriously.

That shit is scary as fuck on a dry day.

But it’s always worth it.

I mean, we couldn’t see the actual sunset. Because rain and fog.

But we came close to capacity with 12 of us up on that rock.

And there were lighters gifted from the DeFrosts. And beer. And some really excellent 115 proof not-beer. And some whiskey.

And then K-Rob got cold. Because she never wears fucking pants anywhere.

So we started back down.

And it was fine.

Everything was fine.

Until I heard OT behind me say, “What’s that light down there? Is that one of us?”

And it was. Everyone’s Favorite Husband had somehow taken off down the mountain leaving the rest of us behind.

And y’all have met OT.

He’s not gonna let that shit stand.

So he took of past me in a fucking sprint. Down the sheer wet leaf-covered vertical drop that is Christmas Mountain.

We calling that, pulling an OT.

And so that’s how we ended up where we did.

With two separate groups.

Completely fucking lost.

Coming down a mountain we’ve descended. In the dark. Too many times to count.

And maybe some of us were a little tipsy.

And maybe hiking a standard trail would have been a little unsteady anyway.

But that shit got fucking steep.

Like, way steeper than normal.

And I kept fucking falling anyway.

So my legs eventually said, fuck. I don’t know why we keep having to do this, but ok. We’re done. You’re gonna have to figure out another way to get us down from here.

And since my ass has taken the brunt of my injuries lately anyway…

I mean, it’s really not too bad when you just surrender to the mountain. And ass slide down.

It’s really just like Spartan.

We had to stop a few times and get our bearings.

You know it’s bad when GJB has us pulling up Google maps on the side of his mountain.

Dude With The Charming and Disarming Smile said, “So we are really lost, yes?”

Shhhhh Dude. It’ll be fine.

Someone call Everyone’s Favorite Husband. See if he and OT can help us.

So BB called.

They were also lost.

In the ravine.

Apparently OT fell into a leaf pit on the way down.

It’s fine.

He made it back out.


Back on the side of the ravine, GJB was making us stop and consult Google maps again.

And Dude said, “So, this is Rocky Mount?”

Shhhhh, Dude. It’s fine.

And Stone and Mama Grider are just smiling the whole way down.

And K-Rob is reminding us that there’s still some whiskey left.

And BB is trying to exercise leadership and just get us the fuck off the mountain.

And GJB is reminding us about the time he broke his arm coming down off the mountain this way.

And TB has gotten eerily quiet.

And Finn’s Dad is wishing he hadn’t worn jeans on the hike. Who the fuck wears jeans to Christmas???

And LeBBQ is talking about cheffing and the restaurant business.

And I just wanted a fucking sandwich.

Doesn’t anybody have a fucking sandwich??

Talk somehow turned to survival.

And we determined that LeBBQ would be the last man standing.

Because we’d eventually have to just eat one another.

And he’d be the only one that knew how to prepare human flesh. In some sort of delicious bearnaise sauce.

I don’t know what the fuck bearnaise is.

I just googled fancy sauce.

And that’s what it gave me.

Which is why I’d probably be one of the first to get eaten.

And then we finally. Finally. Hit the trail at the bottom.

And GJB let us put Google maps away.

And we were soaked through.

And hungry.

And tired.

And it was fucking excellent.

Got back to the house and changed into dry clothes.

If you host a group of trail runners, expect that, at some point, most of them are gonna get naked in your driveway.

But it’s fine.

Because we always put clothes back on.

Eventually. (*cough* Rogue *cough*) (Rogue, btw, was supposed to join us. But because she experienced an actual for real life shit show at work that day. She opted for another loop of North Fucking Mountain. All alone. In the rain. Because that mountain understands anger and frustration. I mean, I’m not sure he makes it any better. But he sure as fuck won’t be all obnoxiously happy when you’re in a fowl mood. He’ll be all like, yeah. Fuck those people. Right along with you. And then he’ll say in his creepy soft voice, you should bring them here…)

Anyway. Once we were safely inside the house.

Soooo much food.

So much really fucking excellent food.

Because Lil T loves me the way that she does. She rolled in from Richmond just before we all headed up the mountain. And even though she was exhausted. She made us sausage balls. Because she told me she would. And we are all about integrity.

Stone made the most delicious sliders I’ve ever had. So I could finally have my fucking sandwich.

And LeBBQ went to work cheffing up some fancy French food. With GJB hovering over him.

It. Was. Delicious.

And again, LeBBQ pointed out that, you know, people just gather for the food part. Without the other bullshit.


But it just doesn’t taste as good unless you’ve put yourself through something to get to it.

And that is absolutely true, LeBBQ.

This was the best possible way we could have planned to send out 2019.

Now. Ima spend today not on North Fucking Mountain.

And I’m gonna enjoying every fucking second of it.



Just reading and writing and running and looking for my happy place.
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