Worth It
In the claims world we use the word deconditioned as something of a neutral word to describe the occasional physical traits of an injured person who is, well, deconditioned.
A few weeks ago it was my deconditioned carcass that I dragged up the hill for an invigorating walk outside our vacation rental in the western South Dakota pines a few weeks ago. The walk hadn’t done me in, but the not-like-mine bed had. So when JP wanted to get up early for a bike ride, I took him up on it. By the time early came, I’d already been awake a couple of hours.
We grunted into the morning quiet as we hoisted two bikes off the garage ceiling and then we were off. JP quickly left me behind as he tore up the hill, nearly reaching the crest before he had to dismount and walk the last few feet. (Though he’ll say it was to wait for me.) And as for me, I nearly made it to the base of the hill before I climbed off and pushed the bike and my deconditioned self to the top to meet him.
::
We chatted in the cool of the day, punctuated with my labored wheezes.
Did you ever go out with anybody before Dad?
Yep.
Was he an athlete?
Yep.
Anybody else?
Yep.
Was he an athlete?
Nope.
What was he?
Musician.
And you picked Dad?
Yep. Glad I did. Aren’t you?
How come you’re the youngest in your family but you have the oldest kid?
Dunno. Worked out that way.
But you weren’t the first to get married.
Nope.
How come everybody in your family was so old when they had kids?
Guess none of us were in a hurry.
Did Grandma and Grandpa make you wait that long?
::
We crested the hill, me gasping, him interrogating. And it was all downhill from there.
We remounted the bikes, held on and let go.
Wind and gravity stretched my cheeks back to my ears making my eyes water while the air rushed through my hair. I resisted squeezing the brakes even as I heard his exhilarated Woo hoo! far ahead of me on the road.
Half a mile later, we coasted back up the last tiny slope to the house.
At the top, JP shook his head.
Going up that hill was awful, Mom. But that ride down?
Totally worth it.
::
Photo: The hill, in the woods near Deadwood, SD. (Funny, I remember it running straight up.)
Lyla, here is something to think about. No matter the speed you achieve on the downhill, it will never quite compensate for the time you lose on the uphill grind. The same is true for the gain of the wind at your back vs the resistance of the headwinds. JP is right, the exhilaration of the ride down is reward enough for the effort of the upward battle. As an athlete however, he will learn that the real value of the uphills is the strength one gains that is never available on the easy parts of the course. Such it is with the lessons of life. While the easy parts have their measure of joy and satisfaction, strength of faith and character come from the long slow uphill climbs, and the exhilaration of the descent is made more joyful still by the knowledge that it is only possible because you have conquered the steep ascent.
2010/07/15 at 3:50 PM
Dave, I’ve read this three or four times looking for the pun. Keep missing it…
This is great though. Coasting sure feels good, but I know it doesn’t help me develop much of anything. For me, what made the haul uphill worthwhile wasn’t even that though, it was the conversation with J that may not have happened otherwise. Nothing like a few minutes alone with your kids.
2010/07/15 at 10:05 PM
The ultimate pun is in the absence! It makes you spend some time to punder the meaning. Its like the guy who stayed up all night trying to figure out where the sun goes when it goes down. Suddenly it dawned on him! Seriously, your special conversation reminds me of a favorite verse. And Mary kept all these sayings and pondered them in her heart. Thats a mother thing.
2010/07/15 at 10:51 PM
Ha, knew it had to be there somewhere.
2010/07/15 at 10:53 PM
high thin air
good question and answer time
2010/07/15 at 4:40 PM
Love, love, love this story! Thanks for sharing.
2010/07/15 at 7:06 PM
Nice images – mother and son, activity and conversation! I’m feeling that deconditioned part with you.
2010/07/15 at 7:59 PM
Nancy, that hill was so straight up. Felt like I was walking up a wall.
2010/07/15 at 10:06 PM
I loved this window into your conversation on the gasping bikeride — so sweet, so real.
The photo of that road reminded me of the vacation rental we stayed at a couple of years ago in South Dakota — in the Black Hills. Not sure if it was Deadwood though…two years ago is apparently too long for my memory!
2010/07/16 at 9:48 AM
Thanks Michelle. Could have been the same neighborhood, though out there, it’s all like that. Breathtaking all the way around (even without the bike ride).
2010/07/17 at 7:38 PM
this is a life story. i like it. very, very much.
2010/07/16 at 5:38 PM
You’re kind, thank you Kelly.
2010/07/17 at 7:38 PM
After watching several episodes of “Intervention” on the Arts and Entertainment cable channel, I’ve come to the conclusion that intervention may be a solution to be considered by the family.
AA has been the benchmark by which addiction treatment and rehab have been measured. It has spawned several similar organizations that treat similar addictions and dependencies, such as gambling, drugs, etc.
I read recently of an new organization, patterned after AA, for individuals like David (Uncle Weird). These folks are cursed with an uncontrollable urge to pun. ‘PUN-DITZES UNANIMOUS’, (P U) has used the 12 steps model of AA, although they have shortened the 12 to 3. Known as the 3 Stoops (1. This is going to sound Stoopid; 2. I know this is Stoopid; 3. That was really Stoopid).
The king’s court jester was an inveterate punster. The king finally tired of it and told the jester to find some other method to amuse him. The jester tried but soon slipped back into his old habits of slipping puns into his amusement routine.
Exasperated, the king warned him, “ne more pun and I will sentence you to the gallows.” It worked for a few days but eventually the jester slipped up, uttered a pun in the king’s presence, and bingo. The king sentenced him to be hanged.
After the king’s guards had taken the jester away to be hanged, his wife suggested to him that hanging was perhaps a little harsh. The king thought about it and had a change of heart. He hurried off to the gallows. The hangman was already leading the jester up the steps to the platform. “Stop the hanging” the king called, “I’ve changed my mind.”
The hangman removed the hood and the king said to the jester. “I will give you a reprieve but you must vow never to tell another pun.” The jester agreed and the hangman continued to lead him down the steps away from the gallows.
The king started to leave but then turned to the jester and asked, “do you have anything to say about this turn of events?” The jester replied, “No noose is good noose.” And so they hung him.
Dad
2010/07/17 at 10:42 AM
Us punderistas love it when those who are outraged decide to Puntificate on “our” problem. Like football players, when they can’t score they have to punT!
2010/07/17 at 5:16 PM
You know, I’m just going to leave this one to the two of you.
2010/07/17 at 7:36 PM
Lyla:
Great post. I chose not to take that walk. The driveway was steep enough. But it seems that the post left some questions unanswered.
Before reading the post, the title reminded me of a song that I often heard as special music years ago. I can only remember the chorus and I don’t know the title or the author/composer.
“It will be worth it all,
when we see Jesus.
Our trials will seem so small,
when we see Christ.
One glimpse of his dear face,
all sorrows will erase.
So swiftly run the race,
till we see Christ.
Dad
2010/07/17 at 11:01 AM
Yeah, it will be. Worth every bit.
2010/07/17 at 7:39 PM
Yes…exhilaration will certainly take away a deconditioned spirit. A couple of weeks ago, I did some woo hooing after getting a ride on a motorcycle for the first time! Can’t wait for another one!!!
2010/07/18 at 2:58 PM