Tales from the Trail

So, this tale is about a week old but I think it's worth the wait.


Bryan, being the supportive boyfriend that he is has encouraged me every step of the way on my weight-loss journey. If it meant going walking in the apartment complex with me, cutting back on (gasp) wine or getting take out from Doc Green's instead of KFC he was there to do whatever helped me. So, when I wanted to get out of the house last Sunday he suggested going hiking! I had not yet done my "cardio" for the day and we decided this would be a fun way to workout together.

He knows of a hidden piece of the Chattahoochee Nature Preserve in a Buckhead neighborhood that has great hiking trails so we headed over there. Evidently, there are several "Buckhead Bettys" who feel as though it belongs exclusively to them, but the "poor folk" go anyway. :-)

So, we go hiking. It isn't until we get there that I realize I forgot water bottles and I am wearing my oldest, most worn-down pair of tennis shoes. (Hint: The "worn-down" shoes will be important in a minute.)

We've been hiking for about 45 minutes when Bryan decides to play Boy Scout Extraordinaire. We go OFF THE TRAIL. I, being the trusting girlfriend that I am, do not realize we are going OFF THE BEATEN TRAIL. When I do recognize that we are NO LONGER ON THE PATH, it's because I see:

a. lots of snake holes in the ground.
b. an old hobo campfire.
c. a weird rock cave with more hobo remnants.
d. all of the above.

If you guessed D--- YOU'RE RIGHT!!

It took Bryan seeing the snake holes and a DEAD END for him to admit we needed to get back on the beaten path. Did I mention that the entire time we were traveling OFF the path, we were headed downhill? A very steep mountainous-like downhill?

Remember that little "my shoes are old and worn" tidbit I shared with you earlier?? This is when it gets to be important. We begin to CLIMB our way back UP this mini-mountain, surrounded by snake holes, briars and baby trees. There is nothing for me to hold on to. At a certain critical point, I had to grab onto Bryan's hand so he could pull me up. When I went to do so, I slipped (remember my shoes) and he - let - go - of - me!

I rolled down the mini-mountain. I slid down the mini-mountain. And, because my shoes were crap, I could not stop myself as I traveled unwillingly down the mini-mountain.

Evidence of Abuse. Photo 5-B-8.

Thankfully, no major damage was done. I cried. A little. My hands looked like they belonged to a 5-year-old who is learning to ride a bike. I have a gnarly bruise on my knee. Unfortunately for Bryan, I have turned him into DFCS for girlfriend abuse/neglect. I have applied for a foster boyfriend. Maybe my time in foster care will teach Bryan to take better care of me. Maybe I should just go get new shoes.

Notice the lack of band aids. Or booboo bunnies.
Photo 5-B-9.

:-)

DISCLAIMER: Bryan and I have 2 different stories from that Sunday. He claims he did not let go of me. But he doesn't have a blog. So there.
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On a fun side note, my best-faraway-friend Kari found a site that lets you test your vocabulary skills and donate rice to countries in need through the UN. Go play!