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9.23.2013

THERE'S A BATHROOM ON THE RIGHT .... nope


It was a perfect Saturday morning.  It began with cardio.  A heart-pumping great way to start the day as I always tell our dear friend Jerry.

Saturday mornings are meant for nothingness. A change in pace, routine, activities. To those of you who have kids and are now whining about responsibilities, sports, etc.... I have already been there and done that.  I have put in my parenting kids in the house kinds of Saturdays, so get off my back about my new Saturday life.  Your day will come e v e n t u a l l y.  But until it does, quit whining about where you are on the line of life and acting like us empty-nesters don't have a clue about raising kids, responsibilities and weekends with kids home from school. 

I have to purposefully slow myself down on the weekends - put myself out of I gotta get this done mode and just experience a day without have to's, must do's, and gotta be there's.  I'm not entirely wired that way, so it takes some effort for me to not be in a conquerish Pac-Man sort of mode.  When you work full-time, Saturdays become catch up for everything from cooking, shopping, cleaning, to home improvement projects, etc.  

This past Saturday I let the have-to-get-caught-up-with-regular-things pass.  In fact, on Sunday I did a repeat performance of neglecting every last must do task there was.  I rolled into Monday morning satiated with a deep sense of fulfilling and playing in the avenues that refresh me deeply.  I also rolled into Monday morning with a very dirty house, all of my favorite underwear dirty, the bathrooms so disgusting I didn't even want to get ready in them, dishes in the sink, the trash overflowing, nothing ready for lunches or dinner, no blog post ideas, the cars still filthy, the bushes teeming with new growth begging to be trimmed, bills and paper stacks undone and Doug's hair still not trimmed up.  But, I felt great!

Two cups of coffee and a piece of peanut butter toast later, the small hiking back pack was crammed full.  Off we went to adventure a new hiking trail.  The weather was 75 degrees, crystal blue sky, a swift breeze and no humidity.  I was literally lost in the moment that was nature.  Since being outside is my secret Zen, my love language, my run-home-Jack place, I was in literal internal ecstasy. 


The new sights, sounds, and wind created such a euphoric experience I thought I might die of too much stimulation to my senses and emotions. That's not something I have not experienced before, but powerful none-the-less. I suppose that's how people feel who use drugs and why they keep using them. I so get it. That feeling is so powerful you don't want to leave it.  You want to repeat it over and over again. 

I commented to Doug that I should have put my hair up since the wind was fairly significant.  The wind is one of the things I love about where we live in Arizona.  I had missed it for the past 6 weeks or so during Monsoon season and welcomed it back about a week ago!  That wild wind fits the wild west here in Arizona, and it spoke to my own wild and strong streak that runs in me.


We walked, ran a bit, the 8 miles with my hair blowing every which way.  I just didn't care.  In fact, it was a feeling of absolute freedom to let it blow wild, to feel the power of the wind, the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the surroundings.  It was 8 miles of no bathrooms though.  I mean, at least of no man-made bathrooms.

My digestive track decided to rear its ugly head of course. There were the occasional group of bikers, a walker here and there, a few runners. Soon though finding a place in nature to go to where you have a bit of privacy from others also out enjoying nature became imperative. This is Arizona as well. There are creatures here that don't abide in the Midwest - tarantulas, scorpions, rattlesnakes and every other kind of large bug you can imagine. And, I was in their environment! 

As Doug stood atop the bridge, I gingerly made my way through the bramble-ish stuff to underneath the bridge, carefully studying the ground around me with each step. My usual fearlessness was riddled with apprehension of where I was walking and where I knew my nature bathroom would be - under the bridge, thick in weeds and brush.  Visions of snakes and spiders, poison ivy or oak or whatever the hell they have in Arizona were pushed back in my effort to get my business over with before it was too late!

I grew up on a farm.  My mom literally locked me and my two sisters outside during the day most of the entire summer.  We learned to go to the bathroom (yes, number 1 and 2) quite expertly out behind the barn.  We knew better than to knock on the locked screen door and ask for anything, sort of needing a blood transfusion.  I knew how to skillfully go to the bathroom in the wild - just not under a pedestrian bridge with bikes over head, in knee high brush with great risk of snakes.

I emerged from my bathroom under the bridge giggling at yet another digestive adventure, the fact that I wasn't a kid doing it either and that I could actually hear the group of bikers pedal right above me as I was squatting.  It all seemed ironically funny to me.  

Today after work, I ran that same trail.  As I ran across the bridge I laughed out loud at my revisitation to the scene of my bathroom crime. 

I learned something new Saturday; always carry wet wipes and that I could still pee without getting anything on my shoes or clothes.

1 comment:

  1. your talents my friend are endless!!! wonder if this works for shy bladders? what do you do with the used
    paper wipeage? those plastic poop bags are not just for walking your dog anymore...

    ReplyDelete