Wednesday, July 13, 2011


As I mentioned, I went camping last weekend. There were 10 of us in total - 6 adults, 4 kids.

There were a few mishaps (a downpour on Friday night, a child who woke up with the sun at 5:30), but everyone had a good time.

On Friday night, I noticed a trail to the Lusk caves, 3.5 km away. Saturday morning, some of us decided to go for a hike. We didn't plan to make it all the way to the cave and figured we'd turn around whenever we got tired.

Now, when I picture a hiking trail, I think of a path that goes up and down, one that curves and meanders through the woods.

That was not this path.

This path went up, then curved, then went up, then flattened out for a few feet, then went up ... it was basically 45 minutes of walking up a hill. (We didn't make it to the caves, we just turned around after 45 minutes.)

Do you know what comes after 45 minutes of walking up a hill? That's right, 45 minutes of walking down the hill.

Now, I'm in pretty good shape, but by the time I got to the bottom of the hill, my legs shook when I tried to stand still.

I joked that my legs would be so sore by Sunday that I wouldn't be able to help pack up, but that wasn't the case. I was fine while we packed up.

Getting out of the car when I got home was another story. My calf muscles were stiff. So stiff, in fact, that every step hurt.

I didn't walk much on Sunday.

Monday was a bit better, but my legs were still sore. By the time I got to boxing on Tuesday, I was fine.

Tonight, I tried a spinning class for the first time.

It was an excellent workout, but I'm going to be sore tomorrow.

I guess I never learn.

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