Thirsty

I placed the little paper cup

Beneath the spout and chunks of frozen water tumbled out

Then moved my cup next door and water poured from the adjacent tap

I slurped the cool mixture

The ice bobbing against my lips

And swallowed the slick liquid

Marveling at how easily I accessed what my body needed

My mind jumped to Saturday

We lost the trail in the forest

After coming down the mountain

We were out of water

But I needed water more than I remember ever needing it before

It didn’t seem to matter that I’d eaten plenty

All that mattered was that food isn’t water

I trudged along behind my friend, getting more behind with every halting, uncoordinated step

My legs were concrete blocks

My arms were having trouble utilizing poles that previously were so helpful

We fumbled through the felled trees which made a random, crisscross pattern my fatigued, foggy mind could not decipher

I gingerly stepped here and there hoping rotting logs would hold my weight

Desiccated, prickly branches clawed at my bare legs leaving their grasp behind in bloody, jagged fingerprints

I wondered what it might be like to fall face first, just like those trees, into the tangled mash

I’m sure it would be warm and suck me in

And did my hiking partner have cell service

Could he summon help in this wooded, desolate place

When he looked behind to find his, now, feeble friend delirious and languishing

On the forest floor

Eyes sunken, parched tongue lolling from my mouth, drool absent

I awoke from my most pleasant dream of lying down to his most welcome words, “I’ve found the trail!”

A “Hallelujah” sputtered up and with it came a surge of energy

Once on the trail, I stopped to turn the empty water bladder out above my head and lamely tried to catch the last few drips

They missed my mouth and trickled giggling down my neck instead

Suffice to say I did survive my trial by way of want for water

Made it to the car to share a coke

And nothing’s ever tasted better

Edited in Prisma app with Dallas
Edited in Prisma app with Dallas

The feature pic entitled “Quenched” was created by me by combining photos from Pixabay, edited using Pixlr.  The footer pic is from Pixabay, edited using Prisma. Posts come out when I feel like it. 😀 Scroll down to the bottom of the page to follow me or sign up to receive my posts via email. Listen to many of my post on Spotify. Follow me on Instagram. Take a peek at my Redbubble store Pollyeloquent.redbubble.com. See samples of my products below each post. Thank you for giving me some of your precious time!

The Snowshoe Fiasco

Note from the Author: All of the pictures in my post today, with the exception of the Pixabay snowshoe picture, are of the hike I was on courtesy of George Mach, an exceptional photographer and friend.

I went hiking in the mountains on Saturday. My friend invited me to hike Spreading Ridge on the Icefields Parkway, the majestic, mountainous road linking Lake Louise and Jasper. There would be seven of us. I was told to bring cleats and snowshoes, as there would still be snow. Temperatures would range from +5 °C at the bottom to -5 °C at the top. It was a two hour drive from Calgary and as we travelled North, the landscape looked gradually more wintery. I’ve never been a huge fan of winter, but in the last number of years, I’ve tried to embrace it more, as it’s an inescapable reality in Canada. Continue reading “The Snowshoe Fiasco”

Move it and Lose it: A Former Fatty on Going Lean

The word fat has been in my vocabulary since I was a child. I’m sure there was a time when I was small in size, but I don’t remember it. I was never a wisp of a girl, it’s not how I’m built. When I see pictures of myself in preadolescence, the first word that comes to mind is stocky. I’m reminded of an impish boy pointing at me on the playground, hismoveithotdog eyes flashing, as he sang, off key, the popular, Ball Park Frank’s jingle, “They plump when you cook ’em”. He wasn’t inaccurate. Plump. That’s me, for most of my life anyway. Continue reading “Move it and Lose it: A Former Fatty on Going Lean”

Bite My Muffin Top

I read an article the other day written by a personal trainer. I don’t have my own personal trainer ( I kinda feel like I’m talking about a pet) and I don’t believe I’ll ever have the need for one. Why did I read the article then? Because I’m obsessed with my weight and how I look, like countless others on the continent. I’ve read the diet books, the workout books, the anti-diet and anti-workout books. I’ve swallowed the latest exercisecrossfit-534615_12802infomercial’s hype and bought videos that make me feel foolish, look stupid, and want to stop. I purchased one plastic contraption where the only exercise I got out of it was kicking it to the curb on garbage day. I’ve done the dusty stationary bike, those monotonous aerobics, the funny breathing exercises,the tedious weight lifting routines and the lie down and trim down Pilates. (I’ll admit I enjoyed the lying down part.) I wanted to see if he had anything new to say, any wisdom to impart that would inspire and motivate me to take better care of my body. What was I thinking? He’s a personal trainer. It’s in his best interest to tell us that there is no mind game, no pill that eats up fat cells like Pac-Man, no food that will release the stores of chub we’ve been self-consciously hugging. The success of his business depends on the premise that extreme physical exercise supervised by a glowing Adonis who eats hamburgers wrapped in lettuce (a travesty) is our only hope of becoming the Jennifer Aniston we were meant to be.
Continue reading “Bite My Muffin Top”