Don’t Punch Teenagers

I hadn’t had a long weekend in a while. I love my job and the media consumption that comes with it, but after report after report on political craziness, dead people, crime, animal abuse, and statewide financial problems— I needed to unplug. Cue a four day weekend that coincided with N’s spring break. If I could do I back flip, I would have done one.

My excitement translated into social media posts counting down the hours to my mini-vacation. It is, after all, the fastest way to let the world know about my sunny mood, whether or not the world wanted to know. Every time I told someone I was headed to Lawton I was met with confusion. I’m not sure what’s in Lawton, but people’s responses didn’t do a good job of selling the place. To be more clear, I wasn’t going to Lawton, but to the Wichita Mountains near Lawton, and that seems to make all the difference.

In the car on a Saturday morning we loaded supplies, the dogs, and plugged in the address into the GPS. Ninety minutes to nature– not particularly far, but the flashing 90 minute trip estimate took me back to my time in Colorado where I lived 15 minutes away from Pikes Peak and countless trails. I was uninterested in regular hiking trips when they were easily accessible, but now I daydream about it. The whole thing makes me sound like a walking stereotype, but really it’s my dogs’ fault.

The majority of my time in Colorado I had cats. They were happy to just chase lasers indoors, and continue to be. My dog Mila is from Colorado, but I didn’t get her until a few months before we moved away. I do remember my interest in hiking picked up after getting her. Now, we have Magnus, a 100 lb ball of energy, and he only knows how to relax after a long walk or day of sprints at the dog park. I think Mila misses the mountains because she really comes alive when we get to play in Oklahoma’s version.

That Saturday was a really great day. I couldn’t get online much because the service is spotty out there, so relaxing and enjoying the moment was really my only option. The company was good, the weather was crisp, and the bathrooms in the visitor center were clean. No matter how much I’m starting to like being outside, going to the bathroom next to a tree is never my idea of a good time. That day will remain in my thoughts for some time, not just because it was peaceful, but also because it was the same day I almost punched a teenage girl.

Man, that sounded intense, didn’t it? What I mean is that I was filled with the overwhelming urge to punch a teenage girl, though I doubt I ever would. I’m more the ‘wound with words’ type. Besides, she was far too tall for me to actually reach her face, and punching people in the stomach seems like such a waste.

To be fair, at her age I was probably an insufferable jerk too. Here is what happened…

I was wearing a jammy pack. It’s basically a fanny pack with the added cool factor of allowing you to play music from your phone through a little stereo system. I did look ridiculous, but the unbelievable convenience won me over. Also, I wore it backwards because I vaguely remember that being the cool way to do it in the early 90s. Anyway, I was walking into the Visitor Center, and this six foot tall pretty girl wearing skinny jeans and ballet flats to hike looked at the jammy pack and started laughing. We make eye contact, and she walks off with her parents. You might be thinking, ‘Mireya, why would this girl’s minor outburst get in your head?’ Good question dear reader. I don’t think that’s what happened exactly. That brief experience, that was such an unimportant part of my day, remains memorable because I wasn’t sure how to react.

I have few problems with confronting people, and can clearly tell a person how what they have done has made me feel. If that exchange were with another adult I would have likely said, ‘What’s your bleeping problem,” but the person was clearly a minor, perhaps even half my age. In that split second I went with an emphatic eye-roll, and went on my way. The main take away for me is that I have no idea how to act around teenagers. I think there is no world in which I could have told this girl she was rude, and not looked petty. My husband often says teenagers, “are playing at adulthood.” Older teens like to pretend they are grown-up in the way they act and talk, but can really just be snarky jerks. Tip of the hat to those people that have to deal with teenagers regularly, and my apologies to those who had to deal with me at that age.

I find the experience, and thoughts that came after it comical, which is why I’m writing about it, but I sincerely hope that girl, and any other jerk teens, turns out to be a decent human with a good life.

In the hours that followed, I went on to see some longhorns, roadrunners, and even elk. We picked a trail, and explored. Mila and Magnus had the chance to play off leash at the top of a small mountain, and almost had a Looney Tunes moment when they caught sight of some wild animals, and seriously thought about heading off the side of a cliff to catch them.

After all of that, I had a belly full of tacos for dinner, and drove back home with the sleepiest dogs I ever did see.




Looked for Peace, Didn’t Find It

I went on a hike, alone. I convinced myself it was an excellent way to find some inner peace, but I also didn’t want to be a part of a 127 Hours scenario, so I sent this text to some friends:




They didn’t seem too concerned with my decision. I took that to mean they thought I could competently hike Red Rocks Open Space on my own — or they secretly wanted me to be crushed by a boulder— so off I went.

The first 10 minutes were nice. The sun was out, the breeze was welcoming, and there weren’t that many people. Then everything I liked became a worry. Did I put on enough sunscreen? Why is the wind throwing dirt in my face? There aren’t that many people!?!

Then this happened:




Two roads diverged, if you will, and I wanted the one MOST traveled. I panicked for like 20 seconds and then went left. I didn’t die or anything so I guess that’s good, but I could have done without the anxiety.

In my attempt to get away from all the noise in my life and find peace within the silence, I found the silence makes me most uncomfortable. That’s probably because wildcats were plotting my demise, I’m sure. If I had a therapist she’d probably say that means something. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to keep busy….until the end of time.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Unless you have to climb it.

I was talked into hiking Pikes Peak over the weekend with a few Crossfit friends, and it was tough. The hike took my group 8.5 hours of nonstop work, like actual physical work not sitting at the computer writing this blog while I’m pretending to work work.

I want to say it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but then the jinx gods might want to say otherwise, so I won’t say anything on that front.

Here are a few things not many will tell you about long mountain hikes. It’s going to get ugly, but you’ll thank me if you ever decide on taking your own little adventure:

  • Eat even if you think you aren’t hungry. You’ll need the energy, so plan out stops to munch on some fruit, nuts or something.
  • Apparently hiking makes you gassy. Not this blogger of course, I’m a lady, but my male companions are not ladies and are inexplicably “proud farters.” If you have to do it, be nice and tell the young lady behind you so she doesn’t have to suppress the urge to faint.
  • You should be drinking a lot of water, and because of that you will have to pee outside. Yeah, I know. Just make sure you figure out how you want to handle this one before breaking the tree line because giant boulders are less forgiving.

So there, you are welcome.

Still, no matter how tired or sad I was on that mountain, I can now look at it everyday and say, “I conquered you. I hiked a 14er, base to summit.”

And believe me, I do.