Sleep

Today I learned that staying awake at 4:30 the morning before a long drive is probably not a good idea. I have two great loves in this life, sports and hiking. Last night my two loves came into dramatic conflict. I spent my last few hours with my girlfriend who had an unhealthy fear that I would either die or forget her after being gone for three days. This feeling she had was unfounded of course, but I tried my best to assuage her fears. After many long goodbyes, I finally arrived home at two in the morning. It was at that moment that a sight more tempting than the bathing Delilah met my sore eyes. (Note the word sore is not meant in a metaphorical tone, they were actually sore due to lack of sleep and the dread of waking at 7:30 to be in a car for 4 hours.) What was this Delilah tempting me? What could entice me to stay awake at this ludicrous hour where my only companions would be law-breakers, delinquents and graduate students? The Phoenix Suns first game of the season had taken place that evening and I had recorded it. The prompt lay on my screen seducing me. Like a coke addict staring at a pile of blow I weighed the consequences in my mind. I stared at the screen blankly, knowing that if I were to go to bed I wouldn’t see the Phoenix Suns home opener for three days. To the lay person, this would not seem like much of a problem, but for myself it was the end of a 4 month sobriety session. If I watched this game, I would be up until at least four in the morning, and cranky, grouchy and rude the following day when I would rather be having fun with others in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

There is probably no doubt in your mind as to what I chose to do. Part of that might be the fact that I mentioned at the beginning of this post how unwise it is to stay up until 4:30. I guess the suspense and intrigue of this choice died from the first sentence that I typed. Typical me. I can still be self deprecating and hopefully coax a laugh out of someone.

The drive was what one might expect from a 3 and one half hour trip in a Utah winter. There were frequent bathroom breaks, a snowstorm that made the Matterhorn Bobsled feel like a Sunday stroll in the park and approximately 14 bearded fellows who I could barely see because they were camouflaged, looking like they had never seen someone who hadn’t slayed at least three deer. After a hearty lunch and my decision to try to sleep with 15 miles remaining in a 250 mile trip we arrived and I was elated to be cold, elated to be outdoors and relieved to be alive and awake.