Love Is...

To borrow a title from Donna, love is...allowing your husband to pick the hike that you do on your weekend break.

See, I married the poster child of REI. (For those of you who aren't familiar with REI, it's a US-based store for the outdoorsman (or woman), filled with handy camping, mountain biking, kayaking and various outdoor gear.) I, on the other hand, am not driven to many bouts of physical exertion unless it involves walking to get ice cream.

But I think it's important for spouses to at least make an attempt to try some activities that the other spouse likes. You don't have to like it, but at least try it, you know? That's how I found out that I like tennis. It's all about compromise. So they had these hikes, and Matt really likes outdoor activities. He says it helps his stress levels, and he just genuinely enjoys them. I understand. Little Debbies snack cakes do the same thing for me.

So, they had several hikes, and I told Matt he could pick one, as long as it's not the hardest one. I like being outside. I don't mind getting dirty. I just don't like scaling the side of a mountain on my vacation. For me, vacation = massages and drinks with umbrellas in them. Well, the hike brochure was a bit misleading, as it stated that the hike Matt picked was the fourth or five most difficult trail out of eight or so. Wrong. So wrong.

So after about the fifth round of scaling up the mountain, then back down again (the down part? No picnic either), I turned to Matt and asked him if people really did this for fun. He replied by telling me that he owes me big. Took the words right out of my mouth, he did!

I can barely walk today, and I know tomorrow will be worse. In exchange for the hike from hell, Matt has to go to the spa with me this weekend. Somehow I think he got the better end of the whole deal, if you ask me....