Before the Fall

This weekend ruled. And by the weekend, I mean most of the weekend.

But I do mean “ruled”. Cause it did.

It’s funny… Friday night was supposed to be “blogger happy hour: summer love edition.” Instead, it was just an amazing night out with some of the coolest people I know, most of whom happen to have a blog. The pictures speak a thousand words. If you’d like to see them, let me know, and if you’re lucky I’ll pass them along. There were people there I wish I had met, particularly this girl. I don’t know how we continue to miss each other, but it’s a bummer, and it should be fixed.

I danced. My feet, my body expressing what I had been unable to do with words: Happiness. Levity. Life. I sang songs I was embarrassed I knew the words to. The night ran long, but at the end of it all, I walked back to metro with a warm heart, full of love and laughter and vodka. And rum.

The late night did not make the morning much fun, but what followed was one of the best days of the summer. I, Average Jane, suburbaphile, and novice camper, hiked the Billy Goat Trail. A group of 10 or so, we conquered sections A&B over 4 or so hours. It was breathtaking. It was precious. It was inspiring. It was affirming. It was… perfect.

While every moment and every step of the journey held intense meaning for me, a reformed nature-phobe. But about an hour into the hike, something precious happened. Stuck at a juncture that I couldn’t navigate alone, a fellow hiker turned around and reached out her hand to me… “Here.” was all she said. I reached out to her, took her hand, and let her help me. The monumental nature of this gesture is hard to appreciate, had you not known me 6-8-12 months ago.

6-8-12 months ago, you wouldn’t have even seen me on the trail. I owe that to my Ex. A few times on the trail I actually thought, “Wow. He’d be proud of me.” And I was proud of me, too.

I had fear, trepidation, my ankles shook, my blisters throbbed, but I soldiered on with 10 “partners”. Not friends, not just friends… “friend” doesn’t even express what they were… what they are. We weren’t hiking in a group… we were hiking in tandem. We were in the hike together. I don’t know if they will read this and appreciate how much it meant to me. I can only hope they do. Maybe I’m a big goofball in person, but inside, well I’m just so grateful.

ANYWAY! My “BFF” is always telling me that I’m really funny when I’m not all “dark and twisty,” which I’m TOTALLY NOT. Geesh. The evening was topped off with crabs galore… the kind you crack open, not the kind you, ya know… the other kind. Hilarity ensued. I believe they went for ice cream, but I took my tired ass back home to the burbs.

Thank you to everyone who made this weekend so badass. For serious, people. For serious.

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