|Cool Weekend Warrior Wound!|
So Our 20s were essentially about Me-Me-Me-Me: exotic travel adventures, wild Bacchanalian weekends, and, oh yes, maybe a little bit of career building. 30s, childbearing and rearing and exhaustion. And now, finally, we’re looking for a healthy mix of the two with our kids a little bit older and us much, much the wiser.
Which is why I see no problem with whipping back out the Weekend Warrior in all of us to get ourselves out there again and get OUT of the carpooling, mini-van shuttling, birthday-party going, all-about-the-kids weekend horror fest.
My own mountain bike hadn’t seen the light of day other than the gentrified trip back and forth to the market for a baguette (or something much less exciting and French) for almost 10 years. So why not take the bike on a 20 mile spin with my visiting younger sister to get out in the elements again and show off our gorgeous locale.
So off we went. Creaky, pre-century bikes (1993 and 1998) were our chariots. And when I crashed, palms first into the jaggedy pile of boulders on the side of the road, did I have my protective biking gloves on??? Of course not! We Weekend Warriors pshaw away having the correct gear and proper tuning. Thus we Weekend Warriors end up with a palm full of shredded hand and streaming blood for the rest of the 20 mile trip. (And no Duct Tape.)
But that’s the point.
It feels fun to have shredded palm again and not give a hoot. The kids actually thought I was COOL when I came home with bleeding hand and a great crash story. They jumped all over it. Mom is fun! Mom is cool! Mom rocks! (Or falls on rocks.)
SO, maybe there is a nice mix. Kids can get out there with us and be a leeeetle bit more dangerous and thrill seeking. We can let go of the wish that our kids (and we) need to be “Bubble Boys” and live in a Boo-Boo free world. Let our Weekend Warriors out with some abandon and have some fun. Crash a little. Live a lot. Why not?
Namaste & Three Cheers! -OM