Went in hard.

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I couldn't close up shop until midnight, again.  Too much had been activated, over a period of time, to quickly or easily end the day.  I see, now, that overstimulation is part of my problem, as I've noted to a degree before.  What I realize now is that it is cumulative, pretty stout to deal with, and I'm not quite sure how to counter it.  Shutting down earlier in the day, less caffeine especially later in the day, all these tricks that work for most folk won't, or I should say, don't, and probably can't, help.  I jest about this, tease about that, but my body truly is feral.  Sick?  Sure, but that could be worse if I didn't have the mind that I do, and faith.  A feral body has so much more going on.  It isn't an order of magnitude more going on, it is exponentially more.  I know many refuse to believe.  It simply doesn't matter.  I refused to believe for a very long time myself.  It was easier to disbelieve, dismiss, when I lived in a fog all of the time that allowed me to forget... in just a few... one, two, five, ten... seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks.  Now I don't have that luxury.  Never mind, I am hoping that, as I work up, and find to work hard enough and often enough, this will take care of itself.  The thing is, I may not be physically healthy enough to dig out of that particular sand trap.  I'll just move forward in faith anyway.

Sleep?  Not, actually, like a log.  It was a rather good sleep.  While I am sore, as if I had slept too hard, that is from actually having been busy this week.  This, that, the other thing.  It has all added up to a slightly sore body.  I slept long, but really, I needed it.  I set the alarm for an eight hour sleep, reset it for a ninth hour, shutting it off after that.  I ended up waking right at eleven hours of sleep.  My back feels like a pro worked it right to the breaking point without leaving it vulnerable.  I have muscle groups that I didn't know existed screaming something about "it HURTS!".  My lungs have a bit of a burn in them.  My ribs are something on the other side of grumpy.  Some of my joints feel like they have been massaged by my massive cleaver, but dulled so it wouldn't actually cut.  But... all good.  This is how I need to feel.  It means I am heading in the right direction.  Especially since I know I rolled well and moved in my sleep, so it's all just deserts from my efforts.  Yum!

More?  This is just the start.  By summers end, I hope to have felt like this, and much worse, scores of times.  And I will have to work right through it sometimes.  I'm not a delicate flower, boys and girls.  I don't mind pain, and actually enjoy it when I get to earn it.  It is not a matter of fear, it is a matter of capacity to be able to work myself like this.  It didn't take much.  Three days out, none of them full days, only two of them on my feet all that much, and here I am.  I can only imagine what a couple of hikes and bit of biking on a third day will do.  But I am looking forward to it, if I can just hold onto this momentum.

As I said, I'll be putting my pack together today.  Tomorrow?  If I get the pack done, and some laundry, I'll hit my boots with a spit polish, finish the dishes, and maybe start painting the rifle again.  I won't be moving fast.  There is a time to push and there is a time to rest.  I need a bit of rest.  But I think I can do some little things in there too.  I don't know what the Lord put into my soup, but I am liking it.  :)

Later.