Mt Everest at Home- are we there yet?

For those of you that own gym memberships that haven’t been used in about …well maybe I won’t say because I don’t want to embarrass you. You all know who you are. After today’s fitness escapades I just want to say... I UNDERSTAND! Let the days and months tick on and the membership sit neatly tucked away in the crease of your wallets. It can keep the other “frequently” used cards company, you know your loyalty card at the shop you went to once but will probably never go to again. Because getting fit is hard work! YUCK! Who wants it!

Dad and I had big plans. We decided we would go on a walk every day this week before I leave on Sunday.  On Monday night we had detailed the logistics, we had talked all the talk there was, and then some, so now it was time to walk the walk. 7am tomorrow we were climbing our Mt Everest. Word on the street was that this particular walk to the water tower was the toughest walk around – there was only one direction for this walk…up. All the other little hilly walks in the surrounding areas bowed in reverence at its grandeur. “Too easy mate” as Dad would say. We were ready.

I sleepily pushed my mask up off my eyes and onto my forehead as I rolled over to glance at the clock. One eye was still half closed.  I collapsed back into my pillow facedown. Ugh. It was 8.20am. So much for 7am- we were off to a good start. I hurriedly got dressed and we left.

Something you should know about my Dad is that he always has something funny to say. Even when he is not trying to be funny, he is funny, which makes it even funnier. Even when it probably isn’t the best time to be funny – he’s funny. My Dad is just like the value menu at Wendy’s – he offers a selection of great value items at very low cost (well, actually at no cost). I’ll take one of everything you are offering please Dad!

So as we are huffing, puffing, panting, sweating and going red in the face trying to climb this Mt Everest Dad is providing comedic commentary. The perfect time for it right?

Us: Heaving chests and panting in the blazing sun.

Dad: I wish I had bought the car door with us so I could wind down the window when it got hot.

Me: Dad do you want some water?

Dad: No I don’t need water, I need an ambulance.

Us: Struggling, legs burning, and then we reach a little flat part before the next monster hill.

Dad: Should we just wait here and have a rest for about a minute?

Me: No Dad, we don’t want to lose our momentum.

Dad: What momentum?

Us: Silence as we try to push through the pain without having a heart attack.

Dad: At least when they climb Mt Everest they give them oxygen.

Today we climbed our Mt Everest.  We may never do it again. Once may be one time too many, but we did it. Lately Dad has started saying to me “ENJOY to the end daughter, not just ENDURE”. If only you had heard how much I was laughing on the way up that hill with all of Dad’s commentary- I was certainly enjoying to the end.