This morning the sun broke through the clouds for a rare celebration, and blue sky was visible for the first time since I got home to Oregon. And you know what that meant! I had to put on my tennis shoes and get outside. I threw on my coat, hitched up the iPod and headed out the door, a little extra bounce in my step. I was loving every second of it -- and it didn't even matter that I was about to walk down a mountain ------ and then back up it again. Going down was pleasant enough. I only almost got ran over three times (well, four if you count the motorcycle), and Lady Gaga came on five times on the iPod. "....oh caught in a bad romance..."Halfway to the bottom of the mountain, I passed an 80 year old fellow traveler. He was wearing a San Francisco 49'er sweatshirt and a big smile. "Good morning!" he said, a little too loudly -- and without even a hint of being out of breath, might I add. When I got to the bottom, a bead of sweat was forming on my forehead, a sign that my body was beginning to warm up. At that point I knew it was time to turn around if I had any hope of getting back up the mountain alive. And so I began my ascent. As I was reaching the midway point (about where I saw the 80 year old man the first time) we met again. This time he had his coat swung over his shoulder, but the same big grin. "I had to take my coat off at the top!" he said, laughing. I laughed, too. It was a somewhat nervous laugh, as I took a deep, long look at my life ahead of me and wondered if I would be walking this hill when I was 80 years old. If I keep eating the amounts of Christmas fudge I am right now, my chances are slim. Nevertheless, I tipped my hat and carried on up the mountainous road.
When I'm 80, I hope to be skydiving. Go 49'ers.
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