24 Hours

Posted by piphunt on July 28, 2011 in Adventures of Pip |

“Everybody has the same 24 hours in the day, what you do with those 24 hours, is up to you”

 

My 24 hours are a constant debate of priority. First, there’s work. It’s what my schedule is built around, but by no means is my job the most important thing in my life. It provides an income, insurance, and a great excuse to use my brain, but doesn’t define me. If I were to make a top ten list of what’s important to me, my job would fall somewhere around number 8, because lifestyle comes first. My lifestyle is what makes me happy.

 

“The weekend warrior lifestyle?” you ask, disbelievingly. “After years of playing outside everyday, you can be happy in a 9-5 job?” Yes, I can. Because balance is important. I need to play, hard, (almost) everyday. I love to sweat, to breath hard, and sleep well. I also need to eat, and eat in a way that won’t upset my body. Both of these things can be incredible time consuming, but building them around a 9-5 life is perfect for me. The more time I have, the less I get done. If I have all day in the kitchen, I’ll probably make just as many things as if I had 3 hours. As a result, I’m an “optimistic planner”, I tend to pack too much into one day.

 

Saturday morning was a testimony to packing way too much into 24 hours. I had a list of staples to make in the kitchen, the Farmer’s Market, a tie dye party, and a long, hard run. I can do it all. I swear. Did I mention I was also longing to lay on the couch, reading with the smell of roasting hazlenuts engulfed me? Yeah, that didn’t happen.

 

Instead, I threw the nuts for the granola in the food processor, switched in, turned around to check on my scrambled eggs, and returned just a moment too late. My nuts had turned from chopped to flour, definitely not what my granola ordered. But all was not lost! In a quick moment I threw in some dates, apricots, vanilla, and seasonings to make a yummy, raw bar. After I packed the mixture into a pan, turned off the stove (no need to burn my breakfast too!), and rescued the whistling kettle, I returned to the chopped nuts for granola. This time with complete focus. Three hours later, I emerged victorious, a fresh batch of granola, crackers, and bars were all finished for the next couple weeks, and I was off to the farmers market ready to stock up on veggies.

I packed the car with an arsenal of toys (mountain bike, trail running clothes, stand up paddle board, gluten free beer…) took a deep breath, and took off. ¬†First stop Farmer’s Market, second stop Park City. It was time to tie-dye.

 

Yes. Tie-dye. No we’re not (all) total hippies, there was only one grateful dead bear, and none of us really knew what we were doing. But that didn’t stop us from spraying color all over the lawn, random articles of clothing, and sipping on cold beers and vodka lemonades in the warm, summer sun. It was just what I needed to motivate myself to go run.

 

Post vodka-lemonade? The first half of Spiro just about conquered my soul. I felt awful, but I knew that I just had to keep running. Quitting now would not make me anymore prepared for Jupiter Peak and I hate crying. So I ran, and then I ran past my first “turn around” point, and then past my second. An hour and half later, it was the lure of dinner that made me turn around, not my vodka-laden legs. If I can run up Park City in that state, I think I can do it in two weeks! I made it up to Shadow Lake and turned around, but not before I ran into a mama moose and her two babies, and they weren’t moving. At all. If I know anything, it’s not too mess with a mama moose. I hung out long enough to snap a couple photos, but then, she started to lumber towards me and I bolted. Even when you’re haggard, your hip flexors ache, and your feet are blistered, thinking a moose is chasing you is fantastic motivation for sprinting.

Mooooose!

 

I finished the night off with a nice glass of merlot, some grilled chicken, garlic scapes, carrots, and red chili salsa. I even made it to the Bistro 412 for a drink, but by that point I was toast. Officially ready to face plant, and dream of mountain biking, brunch, running, stand up paddle boarding and a delicious salmon dinner on Sunday.

SUP on Heber Reservoir. We didn't even know this existed, till we drove past the sign!

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