I haven't really done any considerable or cardiovascular intensive activities since I first became pregnant a little over a year ago. So when Ken suggested that we do a hike in Banff on Saturday, I was a little hesitant to even attempt it considering my poor conditioning. However, with a little cajoling from him and a goal in mind, we set out for Johnston Canyon with little Russ in tow.
I don't know why but I felt that it was my duty as a mother to carry my 12.5lb son all 6.5k up and all 6.5 k down the trail strapped to my chest. It was a compulsion that I can't quite explain - almost like a natural instinct. Mothers for centuries have worked in the fields or in the house with babies strapped to their backs or hips so it seemed to me more like an honor to entangle myself in the tradition. That was before we started the hike.
I soon discovered that an extra 12.5lbs added to the extra pounds I was already carrying made quite a difference but I was determined to make it the whole way without complaint and be happy about it. I can't say that I was happy the entire way and my romanticized vision of motherly tradition became somewhat altered , to say the least (Ken will probably carry the baby next time...haha), but I didn't complain and the hike was beautiful. I was also quite pleased that I had exceeded Ken's expectations. Although he didn't say it, I'm pretty sure he thought I would only make it to the upper falls and then give up before the "ink pots". Take that, Ken! I went double the distance and carrying a baby to boot! I don't want to boast or anything, but I was pretty awesome.
And, thus, baby Russ completed his first hike ever without even killing his mother.
