Madness...
Today, Jason decided that we needed to go and "hike" for some extra excerise. I guess, he felt that I had been sitting on my ass too much of my school break. (This is true.) However, my darling husband tells me - "Dear, we're going on a light, warm-up hike. Something to get you back into hiking/excerising. Plus, there's this cool park with a library in the middle of it. We'll bring the dogs and have lunch."
Okay, so... I think it's a LIGHT hike with mostly wandering around the park/library with our crazy dogs. I wear my Chucks to this... excursion. Jeans, t-shirt, nothing fancy, but still.
Flash Foward - One Hour....
I'm climbing up the steepest fucking mountain at the park, wheezing. I'm scrambling up the mountain on all fours because I'm wearing sneakers NOT suitable to the treacherous-hike-from-hell I'm on. We're not really on a trail, per say, because it's really the weathered path of where the water slides down the mountain when it rained and the gravel is still quite loose. My rat-bastard darling husband is up somewhere ahead of me, asking "What happened to my athletic wife?" (By this point, I was whining in irritation.)
He's really lucky I didn't kill him and leave him on that mountain. We were practically ON TOP of the mountain, I could have hidden the body easily. Ass.
On the way out? "Hey, Lauren. That looks like the trail for beginners...." A damn trail that's a paved road that's gently going up the mountain. Again, I could have killed him. Right now, he should be peeling me grapes and rubbing Tiger Balm on my aching knees.
Grr. Men.
Okay, so... I think it's a LIGHT hike with mostly wandering around the park/library with our crazy dogs. I wear my Chucks to this... excursion. Jeans, t-shirt, nothing fancy, but still.
Flash Foward - One Hour....
I'm climbing up the steepest fucking mountain at the park, wheezing. I'm scrambling up the mountain on all fours because I'm wearing sneakers NOT suitable to the treacherous-hike-from-hell I'm on. We're not really on a trail, per say, because it's really the weathered path of where the water slides down the mountain when it rained and the gravel is still quite loose. My rat-bastard darling husband is up somewhere ahead of me, asking "What happened to my athletic wife?" (By this point, I was whining in irritation.)
He's really lucky I didn't kill him and leave him on that mountain. We were practically ON TOP of the mountain, I could have hidden the body easily. Ass.
On the way out? "Hey, Lauren. That looks like the trail for beginners...." A damn trail that's a paved road that's gently going up the mountain. Again, I could have killed him. Right now, he should be peeling me grapes and rubbing Tiger Balm on my aching knees.
Grr. Men.