This weekend marks some milestones for me.
The first is that it is the first time I’m taking my family camping. Just a few hours ago as I was putting my daughter Carolina to bed she looks at me and says, “One more sleep after this and we go camping!” A few minutes earlier she told me she wanted to make puppets in the tent with the flashlight on. I smiled and told her yes, we’d do it.
The second milestone is that it is my first let’s say “outdoor adventure” trip. Don’t get me wrong, there are some things I’ve done that I would say is outdoor adventure. Arguably, climbing up to Spencefield five months ago in snowshoes through a foot of snow could qualify as my first outdoor adventure trip.
But I’ll say this is different in the sense it is the first time I’ve been to a place that caters to a specific adventure sport. We are going to a “mountain biking resort.”
I’ve spent countless nights this week thinking of those trails. A part of me worries. I’ve lost a bunch of weight, but I think to myself, have I lost enough? Will I bonk out midway on the trail have no energy and have to turn back?
The fact is, I know none of those things matter. I need to ride my own ride, go as far as I can, turn back when I feel I need to and just enjoy the experience of being in the mountains with friends and family.
There’s a time coming soon, I know, when those questions won’t be there. Everyday I’m getting stronger and faster.
And I won’t worry. In just 36 hours I’ll be out on the trail. And all those questions will fade away…