I got to hike this weekend. One was a very short, leisurely hike to a restricted area where we were taught the history of a cave. It’s just one story of many in history of the persons that came to this land and decided it was theirs and who cares that other people were already here. They slaughtered the Apache tribe that lived around this cave, used the cave as their refrigerator, pantry, shelter, and school then carved their name into the rock next to petroglyphs. I’ll never understand that mindset. I don’t know why it was in place then and I don’t know why so many of “us” continue to have it today.
During this short hike we had to cross a creek. I hate crossing creeks. I always have. I don’t know why. I don’t know what to do to change my mindset about it. But I got into a situation and froze and my boyfriend came back for me and helped me get across. Once we were on the other side he whispered “You handled that better than you have in the past” and that just warmed my heart. I found myself such a good guy. And on the way home I was, of course, beating myself up for being dumb and he told me a story about how how well he drives on the driving range but then once he’s there at the tee he can hit clunkers. Moral, it doesn’t matter how good my balance is in the gym and in controlled environments. Out in the real world is different and stop beating myself up over gym vs real world.
While I was getting myself dressed for this short hike my little dog, Gladys the hiker, saw me put on the shoes I wear when I hike with her. And she got amped the fuck up. She danced and ran and got excited and went to the door leading to the garage and sat in front of it and then was really mad when I left without her. So, of course I took her on the conveniently planned puppy hike on Sunday.
The girl was READY TO GO, y’all. She walked so fast and we were in front of everyone and she would have walked even faster had I not been there to slow her down. My girl is a hiker. She is focused. She doesn’t veer to and fro or stop to sniff stuff. Nope. She is on the trail to hike. To climb rocks. To be my adventure puppy.
Once I got home I took Riley on a neighborhood walk. As much as Gladys is a hiker, she is not a dog that enjoys a stroll around the block. Riley is that dog. He meanders. He sniffs. He pees on stuff. He could care less about being on the trail. So, he gets walks in the neighborhood and that’s good. Something for just he and I to enjoy together and I’m going to start doing that. Not because he needs the exercise, but because he needs the special time for just him. He’s an insecure little dude and I think it’ll help in other areas for him to have that.
In other news, I hate the scale and I hate food and I hate that I just keep losing the same pound over and over and over. I’m ready to say “fuck it, this is what I weigh now” and just not worrying about it. Until I see myself naked in the mirror and then I’m reminded that I could look way better. I want to look way better. I just need to fucking figure it out.
I weighed myself when I arrived to the office and then again when it was time for the official office weigh in. I’d somehow gained .6 of a pound in that hour of arriving. All I’d done is drink coffee and answer emails. So, I now have permission to weigh myself when I arrive and turn in that weight since I get in an hour before everyone else. So that’s nice. How I gained .6 in an hour is beyond me. Makes NO SENSE! I’m in 5th place. Not great.
I have things to figure out, is the moral of all of this.