Summer vacation...

Robot and I are going on a super romantic vacation this summer: hiking in the Alps. With my parents. Try to top that in the romantic department!

To prepare for the trip, I've been doing a special Alps workout when I have time, which is not very often lately what with trips to New Orleans, loads of work, and late nights hanging out with Robot. My workout involves the Stairmaster, which is surprisingly easy, and running up and down the stairs at the gym, which is surprisingly hard. The first time I did it I estimated that I'd be able to do at least 20 trips up and down. Turns out my max was 9. (Since then I've upped it to 10. Take that, Alps!)

Luckily, Robot is insanely physically fit so he won't need much Alps preparation. Every couple of weeks he mentions some new sport that he excels at or has excelled at in the past. Most recently it was pole vaulting; it turns out he's won several pole vaulting awards. He also once tried out for a sport in college that he had never before attempted, and not only made the varsity team but was awarded a scholarship.

All of this is quite foreign to me. While I enjoy a good workout, anything involving coordination is beyond me. I've never had made the varsity team of ANYTHING, because I've never tried out for any varsity teams. In elementary school, I perfected the art of moving to the back of the line every time I got toward the front during kickball games. One of my earliest memories is of being mocked during soccer practice by my crush for trying (and failing) to kick the ball with my hands in my pockets when I was five years old. How do any five year olds know how to kick?? Somehow they were all masters of the sport already. I was so confused that I spent games wandering aimlessly around the field, trying to look like I knew what I was supposed to be doing.

Robot has been attempting to make me more sporty. He took me rock climbing, and I survived. Then he tried to teach me to skip stones. He was very patient, but I was really bad at it, and it brought back too many bad memories of traumatic gym classes involving failed attempts to sink a basketball or catch a ball; I had to quit. He told me that he'd also like to teach me to surf, but when I mentioned that I took swimming lessons for six years and never managed to pass out of the beginner class, he told me that I actually might die if I try surfing without being able to swim. There is no way in hell I am darkening the door of a swim class again in this lifetime, so I think that puts surfing off-limits for me, which I'm fine with.

In any case, I am excited to for our hiking vacation. Given that our other four traveling companions will be in their 60s, hopefully I'll be able to keep up. And if not, it's a good thing Robot will be there to carry my pack.