Ok, well correction: this morning's hike was supposed to be a family event, but conversation with Princess Little Sister went a little something like this:
Me: Hey, guess what we're doing as a family tomorrow morning?
Princess: If you say hiking, I'm not going.
Me: No, but it's not actually an option.
Princess: I'm not going. Anyway, look, the cheerleading squad got new ponpoms, do you like them? I wanted them to be sparkly silver, but that's not technically a school color, which is annoying.
None of this could be made up.
But convincing Daddy that he indeed had enough time to go on a hike with me and Mother that it was cool enough to keep her hot flashes at bay was enough of a challenge. Suffice it to say I was quite pleased when our little Prius hit Geer Highway this morning. But let's give you an idea of who exactly Mother is.
Mother: Denise, is the trail paved?
Me: No. We're going on a hike...
Mother: Oh.
Coaxing this woman whom I love ever so dearly three miles up a moderately steep hike was not easy, friends, and took much of that affirming spirit I've become so adept at because of my summer job.
"You are gorgeous," Daddy says to a frustrated, sweating, fuming Mother. As usual (for both her and me), she scoffs at the compliment.
"I don't feel gorgeous. Not at all."
I get it. Getting older sucks, especially as a woman, what with that whole menopause thang and one day I won't be able to climb up mountains the way I can with my 20-something friends. But I had to smile at my mom's comment. Call it strange, call it a rationalization of my laziness, call it a manifestation of closet feminazi sentiments, but I there is something really physically beautiful to me about pushing a human being to the point of exhaustion. I love the way sweat feels after it is well deserved. I love the rosy blush that tints a face after a long run. I love the way skin glows with a sebaceous sheen, blood pumping furiously just under the surface. The rise and fall of an exhausted chest.
Some people feel most alive at the height of physical activity--perhaps, paradoxically, when they are most at risk for not being alive: snowboarding in Utah, sky diving, etc. I don't, mainly because I think spiritual and mental capabilities define the true greatness of a human being, but there is something to be said about the height of physical capabilities. I think, then, it is when we are most physically beautiful. Gorgeous, even.
And the view after three miles uphill isn't much to complain about, amiright?
Love me some Table Rock. Also, look closely to spy Mother.
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