The second annual twelve miler...

"It always seems impossible until it's done."

– Nelson Mandella

“Hey, Ted, I have an idea,” she said last year a few weeks before Christmas, “Let’s walk to the Ranger’s office at the entrance to Catalina State Park and renew our park pass.” 

Not giving it much thought, I replied, “Sure hon. Sounds like it could be fun.”

As it got closer to Christmas, she said, “Let’s do it on the day before Christmas. You know Christmas Eve day.” “Yep,” I said distracted by other thoughts.

You see, while Molly is very active, exercising on balance five to six days a week, she is not an aggressively intense participant.

So I’m thinking, If I don’t bring this up again, she will come to the realization that the park is somewhere in the neighborhood of six miles from our home.

As the day got closer, Molly, the queen of organization, would look at a map and say, “You know what, let’s not really walk over there. I hadn’t realized how far it actually is.”

I wasn’t very concerned about doing this because I was sure it wasn't going to happen. Additionally, I had little interest in walking twelve miles on any day!

Two days before Christmas, she said, “Do you think we should take some snacks along with us?” Now I was getting mildly concerned.

Still confident that in the morning, the day of, she would say, “Ted, you know, I’m not feeling like doing this walk.” To which I would reply, “Well, okay hon, whatever you think.” Smugly thinking myself, I know this woman!

I was confident for a couple of reasons: Twelve miles is a long way to walk, and while Molly and I are in pretty good shape for our tender ages, I knew this would be a magnitude greater than the energy sapping morning exercise classes at the YMCA. Jumping around and wiggling to rock and roll music for 50 minutes in the morning is NOT TWELVE MILES!!! I know, because I do most of these classes with her.

As this woman has done to me any number of times in our marriage, I was wrong. While I was prepared for her to pull the plug up to the very minute we walked out the door, she DID NOT.

Off we went, and while in truth, we stopped a time or two along the way, for metabolic purposes as well as, well, just because…we got to the Ranger Station in two hours and in good shape. By now we were ‘…middle of the desert…’ and the only way back to the beginning was the impending six-mile trek home. Would we be in good shape then?

On the way back, we stopped at a small restaurant for lunch, leaving the last three-mile leg until we had fortified ourselves. The final leg seemed much longer to me, and to be honest, the overwhelmingly consistent thought was a self-image in a horizontal position in my bed!

When we got home, we were spent, but she seemed particularly pleased with herself for having accomplished this moderately outrageous goal. I, on the other hand, was also happy to have completed the walk and put to bed, not only myself but the idea of ever doing it again.

A couple of months before Christmas this year, Molly said, “Hey, Ted. Let’s walk to the Ranger Station at the park again this year. We can renew our pass for another year.”

This year, because of rain, we waited until the day after Christmas before heading out the door. As it had been twelve months earlier, our adventure was an exhausting success.

My biggest, fear looming like the inevitable movement of the tides, is that this will become an annual event. Dare I say it? A tradition!

“Hey, Ted, I have an idea…."

- ted