So my dad wants to hike the Grand Canyon. I mean the whole thing, top to bottom. He said that a guy from his work did it once and the hike from rim to rim took him twelve hours, and he is like a professional hiker. He wants me and my sibs to come too. I think I’m going to die.

                Personally, I think he’s doing this on purpose. He knows that all of us could stand to lose a few pounds (him and my brother excluded) and I think that he is using this as an excuse to get us off our butts. I mean, where did this passion for hiking come from? Since when were we an “outdoorsy” family? When was the last time I had an encounter with nature for an extended period of time that didn’t result in injury?

                Don’t get me wrong, I love nature. That is, I love to admire nature from afar. A very, very far. I think it’s beautiful, and the Grand Canyon is no exception. I just don’t like the dirt and the sweat and the potential for tripping is waay too high for my liking, especially considering my history with coordination. My mom is the same way. The only difference is that she is allowed to not participate in these little “adventures”, whereas I am forced. I have no choice in the matter. But sooner or later, my dad will realize that I am about as good out in nature as Paris Hilton’s chihuahua, and he will give up on me as well.

                Unfortunately, this day has not come yet, so I will be hiking the Grand Canyon. On the bright side, he has given us time to get in shape. He wants to do it next April, as in a year from now. That means that I have twelve months to get my act together and become as hard core as dad’s hiker friend. I’m actually pretty stoked about this new motivation. Now I have something to really look forward to. Something that if I fail, I’ll hate my life and disappoint my dad. Something to keep me going and keep those cookies out of my mouth.

                Besides, I really hate chihuahuas.