Hiking my own Mountain

Another bad selfie--but with a cool view from the top of the mountain looking down at the Skeena River

I'll never be one of those superfit, uber cool, save the planet people. You know the ones.

I used to work in a grocery store and I would cringe a little inside as one of them approached my checkout.
Their NorthFace outfit could be sold to pay my rent for the month.

They would carefully place their Kombucha and their unbagged organic produce on the moving belt--frowning at me when their limes and their 2 perfect apples rolled around before I could grab them and place them in a bag. They'd hand me their cloth bags with a slight bow to their own environmental virtues.

Me--I'd be watching the clock and counting the hour and 41 minutes that I had left till I had to clock out. Waiting for the moment when I could go home, peel off my polyester uniform, and lie on the couch watching Netflix until bedtime. Usually eating the fattiest thing I could find in the fridge.

And these people--they always wear toques--but they look good wearing them. How do they know the exact way to place them on their head?

When I wear a toque my friends tell me that I look like a garden gnome. True story.

All that to tell you that though I wear pilled exercise pants and a long t-shirt to cover my chub I still love to hike and to be outdoors. I may not be super hip but these are my hometown mountains and trails--the same ones that my grandma Theresa (my namesake) used to love to hike.

I have to stop and catch my breath frequently--but the joy that hiking brings me is unequaled to any other pastime.

In the grief after my divorce hiking was one of the ways in which I began to heal. Peace came from me and my dog Ranger, out in nature, looking at life from both a wide perspective (the mountaintop) as well as a close up perspective (the tiny woodland flora). Watching the seasons change and the varieties of wild growth come and go was a magical thing.

My dog and I passed a field of lupins and I heard a still small voice inside me say "next year...when the lupins bloom again...you will be amazed at how much better you'll be."

Don't get me wrong--I'd love to be super cool. But I'm not.

I won't let it stop me from enjoying my love of the outdoors. Noticing the tiny perfect flowers that few people stop to look at--this is what has helped me to keep my own flawed life in perspective.