The water was coming out of the faucet in spurts and gurgles; the water pressure gradually expelling the air from the pipes. A nice squeeze of dish soap had the sink frothing with mountains of shiny white bubbles. I gingerly placed my hand beneath the stream of water to test the temperature when I spied movement out of the corner of my eye. There on the stainless steel sink wall, creeping ever upwards toward my hand was a spider. Not just a little spider either, this was a fat bodied, gigantic fanged, monster. Startled, I lurched back away from the sink, a low keening in my throat giving way to a full blown, raise the dead and get em dancing kind of scream. It was a slasher movie caliber, oh my God we’re all going to die, quality scream and once the siren sprang from my lips, I just could not stop. I think I maintained the verbal deluge for a full 30 seconds or so before I convinced myself that I was being ridiculous. Unfortunately for the spider and fortunately for me, spiders and hot water do not mix. I wonder how many calories you burn whilst being fearful for your life?
I get a whopping two weekends off per month. I place an enormous amount of pressure on myself to squeeze all of the fun for half a month into two days. This weekend, we loaded up the truck with all manner of water toys; kayak, windsurfers, stand up paddles, snorkel gear, running shoes (you didn’t think I could leave my new shoes home did you?), and even pool floaty toys. As we were driving toward the little cabin at the lake, I sent a text message to my aunt who was staying at my house. I was trying to tell her about food items that I had in the fridge and I could only giggle as the auto correct on my smart phone turned “bing cherries” into “binge cherries”. I had been making myself sick eating cherries and even in the car, a gallon bag of the addictive little red bombs was nestled on the seat beside me. I didn’t realize that my smart phone was capable of a freudian slip. It is not necessarily always a good thing to live in the same town as a fruit packing shed.
Up with the sun, the trauma of arachnoid encounters was still fresh in my mind. That combined with a stomach slightly soured by the overindulgence of cherries, I debated the breakfast dilemma. Go into the spider infested kitchen and make breakfast? Ummmm, not so much. I decided to get in my workout pre-breakfast, in the hope that the fresh air, sunshine, and endorphins would adequately bolster my courage to face the kitchen.
Workout for today: High Fives
Run 5 miles (moderate pace)
Body weight squats with shoulder lifts 5 x 50
Body weight alternating lunges 5 x 50
5 mile flat water kayak
5 mile stand up paddle
While on my run this morning, I happened to flush a couple of does from the thick wooded areas that surrounded my path. I have to say that for the brief moment when I was moving alongside the deer, I had the feeling of being one with them. It was one of those moments that makes your breath catch in your throat and your entire body tingle with the exhilaration of the experience. Before I could even remember to breath, they were gone, bounding into the forest that surrounds the cabin. I would like to believe that for the remainder of my run, my steps were a little lighter and my head held a little higher.
As I approached the cabin, I was struck by the peacefulness and beauty of the sunshine filtering through the tall pines, casting long shadows on the tall grasses. While I totally get recharged by my workouts, there is something about being in nature that fulfills me in a way that nothing else can. I’ve always claimed to not be privy to the “runner’s high”, but maybe this comes close. I squeezed my arms; wondering at the raised goose flesh. This is where I am, and this is where I want to be. I bailed my little French Bulldog out of “doggy” jail, and right out there among the towering pines and dappling sunlight, I completed the body weight resistance portion of my workout.
Thoughts of spiders and nausea were long gone as I made my way into the cabin and its little kitchen. The refrigerator seemed less daunting than it had just a few hours previously. I opened the door, and as I reached for the carton of almond milk, my eyes drifted to the fruit drawer and a gallon size bag of “binge” cherries…