So what did I just agree to?

My father enjoys sharing the tale of my 2nd grade commitment to care for the science room chinchillas for the summer. In the final weeks of school, I came home and announced that the school's 3 chinchillas would be summering at our house. When my father asked how this came about, I am reputed to have responded, "I'm not really sure. There was a sign up list, so I put my name on it. I don't even really like the chinchillas."

And my father maintains that to this day, if I see a sign up sheet, I am compelled to put my name on it.

With age comes wisdom, or at least retroactive caution, however. So, within 24 hours of deciding to walk 60 miles in a single weekend, I had immersed myself in trying to understand precisely what I had agreed to do.

Approaching it like planning a trip, my first steps was finding bloggers who had shared their experiences. I always trust the word of people whose writing makes me want to become their new best friend over official sources of information.

It took 3 sentences for me to realize that I was going to have to do far more than make sure I had quality walking shoes and follow the training schedule. An hour later, I had a lengthy note in my phone app listing things I should take care of right away:

"Buy 3 pairs of shoes and train equally in each pair."

"Look for wicking shorts with pockets so you can always reach your chapstick."

"Go through Thomas's climbing equipment and borrow his headlamp, sleeping bag, tarps . . . "

"Figure out how I want to decorate my campsite."

Wait!!!!! I just agreed to CAMP?

Crap. I've already received a lot of generous contributions! I guess I'm going to have to get over my refusal to sleep in any conditions that demand I walk outside to find a restroom at 3 in the morning.

Image Credit: Joel Adams

Well, at least I get a pink tent.