Three weeks on the road requires some discipline in packing. Since this isn’t our first long road trip, we have it down to a science. Which is another way of saying, Michael made a list. He’s a list-maker. And thank God because without it we’d be ten miles down the road and realize we forgot Janelle’s blanket, or Grant’s ipod, or my computer.
With his three-column spreadsheet detailing all the activities we needed to accomplish before leaving, Michael ordered us around like Napoleon commanding his troops.
“Grant, collect all the trash around the house and throw it in the dumpster.”
“Amanda, finish washing the dishes, dry them and put them away.”
“Janelle, go flush all the toilets.”
And then finally, he called out, “Where’s your mother?”
While he was busy downstairs running through his “closing down the house” list, I was upstairs going through my own list. Specifically, do I really want/need to bring my set of free weights?
Eating on the road is a challenge, but it’s easier than maintaining a structured fitness routine. That’s the element of this wellness business I’m not sure I can pull off on vacation. Well, that and limiting my umbrella-laden, tropical beverage consumption.
But I’m going to try. At least with the fitness stuff. I’m making no promises on the fruity beverage front.
Before leaving Richmond, my personal trainer gave me a two-page summary of my weight training regiment. The only equipment necessary is a set of dumbbells. No fancy gym membership required.
Perfect, I thought.
Assuming the hotels we’re staying in have a fitness center, I should be able to accomplish a quick workout. But what about our visits with friends and family? And our pseudo-camping stops? Am I really going to workout in a cabin in the plains of Oklahoma? Or in a rented house on Lake Lure, North Carolina?
Since I am unwilling to admit defeat before trying, I dragged our set of Bowflex weights downstairs, setting them in the staging area next to the kitchen door.
Michael dutifully loaded 70 pounds of free weights into the minivan, although I know there was quite a bit of swearing and annoyance accompanying the project.
His daughter Janelle sold him out. She walked in to the kitchen and declared, “Do NOT go into the garage. Daddy’s grumpy.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked her.
“He says he has to unload the whole car and repack it ‘cuz you have so much stuff.”
“Oh,” I said guiltily shrugging my shoulders. “Why don’t you stay in here with me. It’s safer.”
The minivan was finally loaded and ready to go. With my free weights, running shoes, ipod and healthy snacks—protein bars, apples & peanut butter, carrot sticks and hummus—it was teeming with good intentions.
I hope I remembered to pack my willpower too.