Athletic apparel catalog models must die

It’s that time of year when Troy and I start planning the vacations we will take. On the agenda this year, kayaking in Congaree National Park  in South Carolina, possibly a quick trip to kayak in the 10,000 Islands in late March, a trip to Yosemite in June for a week to hike (and die) and then Zion National Park in September where I am determined to hike the Subway before I keel over and hang up my hiking shoes. I am trying to talk Troy into kayaking the Na Pali coast in Kauai in July but Troy is not jazzed about it. With all these impending trips, it’s time to start ordering outdoor clothes for the season.

If you ever want to feel totally inadequate, a quick scan through the Athleta catalog should do it. Exhibit A:

Seriously? Who is this chick and why is she trying to scratch the back of her head with the sole of her foot?

Let’s look at this. This woman has an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. I hate her and I don’t even know her. She’s probably really sweet. I tried this pose tonight and all I got for my trouble is a badly pulled hamstring and a bruise from where I fell over and hit the dining table. Fortunately, Troy had already gone to bed when I tried this.

Sure, she can do this, but if she had a 40DD chest, it would add a little challenge.

This woman is perky even upside down. That’s unfair to the rest of us. Someone needs to hold her hostage and force-feed her twinkies. I started to try this one but was greeted by four very curious dogs who are not helpful yoga partners. I gave up and poured a martini. Fuck it. I’m wearing a rash guard and khaki shorts this year.

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Kayaking the Everglades, part 1

As everyone knows, the best part of the holiday season is finding ways to avoid your family.  Going to kayak in the Everglades over Christmas is an excellent way to avoid your family. They can’t call to complain you aren’t home because there’s no way to reach you. Awesome.  Since Troy is always trying to kill me, it’s important to clarify that this trip was my idea. I had envisioned quietly gliding through still waters in this this gothic, romantic moss-draped swamp a la Interview with the Vampire. Not so much.

Moss draped trees are not what you get in the Everglades

 

This is what you get in the Everglades:

Troy took this picture of me over his shoulder. His life expectancy immediately dropped by many years.

The water is not very deep and, in most places, the water we trekked through was only two to three feet deep.  Of course, since I am graceless and flunked my deportment class in charm school as a young child, I took a header into the swamp leaving me wet and smelling like a wookie. I have always longed to be an impecccably dressed and composed outdoorswoman like Karen Blixen who can trek,  camp and cook a gourmet meal on the fire while mingling with the natives, but it’s just not in the cards for someone like me.  The day someone exclaims “that woman is just amazing on the trail” is the day you know the aliens have arrived and started body snatching. Troy had to come rescue me which was extra annoying. Troy claims he is invincible in the woods, and points out he never flipped over. Seriously, after 12 years, I can’t believe I haven’t stabbed him in his sleep.

Troy, being very insufferable

I had my chance to feed him to the local wildlife, but they were very uncooperative:

This Mama alligator with babies on her back was too busy to attack Troy.

 All rivers eventually end in the bay and here’s your moment of zen for this very chilly January day.