who needs a gym membership

... when mountains are free for the traversing?

The merry band of hikers meets at Scott's mom's in half an hour. Callie's still sitting in my lap; I'm still sitting in my pajamas. I ... can't ... wait?

Callie, by the way, is unscathed from her near brush with hara-kitty. Hopefully, pitching herself over the lanai and two stories down was only worth one of her lives. It turns out that we are quite attached to her after all.

Last time we hiked Kuli'ou'ou, we only made it the whole way up because S kept lying to me: "Doing great! End's right around the corner." Which actually should have been more like, "You're not dead yet? End's right over the next mountain."

My only solace is that I get to see The Producers at DHT again tonight.

*PostScript: Just showered off 20 pounds of Ko'olau dirt (gave Kona a good scrub, too) and am ready to put on pajamas (honestly, somehow I really want to get into PJs right now) so I can hop into bed. We all - S, Kona and I - got our cardio, and we got to hang out with two of Scott's groomsmen. The trail itself was easier this time, somehow - for Scott, probably because of his thrice-weekly running regimen; for me, I'm sure it had to do with greater mental fitness this time around.) We weren't bounding around like mountain goats or anything (or even like those little old Japanese Kuli'ou'ou Valley ladies who smile politely and then pretty much charge past us, beating us up and down the mountain) - but we did it, faster this time and with fewer complaints. I will conquer this mountain yet.

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