Up, Up, Up, Up, Up, Down

The view from the top

Saturday was a beautiful day in the mountains. Sunny and warm, it was going to be perfect for the 3^rd Annual St. Patrick’s Day hike around the mountain ridge into which the retreat is nestled. After a breakfast of fresh-from-the-farm eggs, sausage so recently ground that you could hear the squeal while it was frying, hash browns, and sliced tomatoes, we made ready for the day’s festivities.

 
The green necklaces and bracelets were unpacked. The cooler was stocked with both water and beer. A pitcher of green shots were mixed (Pearl Divers: 1 part Midori, 1 part Coconut Rum, 2 parts Pineapple Juice shaken with ice and strained).

Carl and Billy: First Breather

Actually, 2 pitchers of shots were mixed. The first pitcher was the unfortunate victim of “alcohol abuse” as a result of wind, an open screen door, and poor pitcher placement.

We were expecting about 10 people or so to come along, but due to a myriad of last minute “emergencies,” there was only one other person who showed up for the three-mile hike. Carl and I were both disappointed, but the weather was gorgeous and our spirits were high when we set off with Billy on the trail.

A few minutes later, I came to discover that hiking in the mountains is a bit like being in spin class. The trail only goes up. There is no down. The trail started with a steep ascent, that became more vertical with each step. It then leveled a bit, went vertical again, then leveled and so on five more times until we reached what I thought was the peak. Next time we attempt this trail, I think a long stretch and warm up would be a good idea. We were all huffing and puffing on the first leg of the trail.  

I can see my camper home from here

After a short stretch of level ground, the trail went up a few more times. There were a few jokes about thin air and wings melting, but we finally made it to the top. Since there was not any foliage, we had a clear view of the distant mountains and valleys. We could even see our “camper home” way down in the valley.  

An hour an half later, we emerged from the woods to find a small group of guys standing around. We invited them to join us for celebratory beers and shots. The group seemed to grow a bit once the shot started flowing, but we were happy to have made it back to level ground. Besides, shots are always better in a crowd.

Next time we brave the trails we will have to come up with a better incentive to encourage more participation, but I imagine once the pool opens, the option for strenuous activity will lose out to lounging in the sun with a cooler full of cold beverages near at hand.  

Carl and Glenn: Happy Trails

 

Lost Weekend Recounted

I found myself a bit over-wrought and over worked when the weekend finally started last Friday. My lovely boss encouraged me to start my weekend early, so I packed it in around 3:30 and headed home. Once in the welcoming confines of my abode, I packed up my gym bag, prepared a snack, and then curled up on the couch for a nap instead of heading out for a workout.

I blamed my general malaise on the summer's first sustained heatwave.  It had been bumping up against 100 degrees for several days in a row.  Not to mention that I had been busy all week at work, trying to get in gym time, and attending meetings for the International Festival.  So, I tossed all care to the wind, turned on the TV, and had a lovely nap.  Of course, the plan was to sleep for an hour of so, and then head to the gym. Instead, I laid a few more paving stones on that famous road, but the rest was quite nice.

I finished off the evening by watching True Grit. It left me strangely empty. The film included all the quirky characters for which the Coen brothers' movies are famous.  However, for some reason, I felt a little empty at its conclusion.  It was well-crafted, beautifully filmed, rather violent, but for some reason there seemed to be a disjointed feel to it.  More like a series of vignettes strung together into a revenge/quest movie than a coherent film.  It reminded me a bit of O Brother, Where Art Thou? With that said, the actor's performances were all quite impressive - Matt Damon's dialog was quite humorous, particularly after the scene where he bites through his tongue.  After the movie, I was off to bed for an early night in.

Saturday started out as a normal "chores and errands" day. The house was cleaned, the shopping list was composed, and the gym bag was again brought downstairs. Then I got a text from my friend Dan who was having a Saturday brew at the Flying Saucer.  Which, sounded like a lot more fun than a sweaty workout. So I joined him for some carb loading. After a couple of pints, we decided that some pool time was necessary to beat the heat, so we headed around the corner to his place at the Hue. Dan pulled out some bathing suits for me to try on (too gay, too gay, just right...) and we spent the afternoon swilling PBR at the pool - topped off by a Manhattan and plans to meet up later.

When I left Dan's, I proceeded to place a few more pavers on my road to Hell, as I had planned to at least get my shopping done, but my friend Arjay texted that he had finished up the release we have been working on for so long and that he was at Tir Na Nog having a celebratory pint.  Of course, by this time, I had no self control left, so I headed over to the pub and had two more pints. Yum Yum. 

There are some advantages to living downtown. You can walk, or stagger, everywhere....and by this time, I was pretty buzzed, so I headed home and had a nap. Do you detect a theme here?

Anyway, the Temper-Pedic mattress worked its magic and I woke up refreshed. A quick dinner, shower, and I was off to meet friends at Flex. My friend John, who documents all details of his life here, was there and we talked about the passing of our friend, Joe's mother. We also discussed our respective blogs and had a few laughs.  His dedication to his blog is an inspiration to me, he can also always get a laugh out of me, so it is always a special treat running into him. And, did I mention it was underwear night at Flex? 

My friend Dan arrived shortly after my first beer. Suffice it to say that the evening devolved quickly into beers, shots, a skinny porn star, shirtless dancing, jock straps, and other sorts of minor debauchery. Why? Why? Why? 

So, my weekend pretty much ended the way it started.  I was up around 9:00 on Sunday, did a little reading, made brunch, retrieved my gym bag from upstairs, had a nap instead of a workout, skipped Sunday-Funday with Arjay and Cathy, cooked dinner, watched a little TV, and went to bed early. All in all, a weekend of relaxation and napping. I am definitely caught up on my rest.

And, I have a date scheduled for Friday. I guess I didn't leave all my integrity on the dance floor... or did I?