The second date I went on with Jim was hiking to the top of Mount Timpanogos. After about 2 hours of hiking I felt pretty tired, my asthma was bothering me and I sat down to catch my breath. I was surprised at how strenuous the hike was and wondered about my ability to make it to the top. Without thinking, I asked Jim "What if you took a girl on this hike and she couldn't finish it?" Without hesitating, he said a-matter-of-factly, "I'd never ask her out again". Well, I definitely didn't want this to be our last date, so I asked if he had any food in his pack. (I of course hadn't packed anything). He pulled out a peach. I scarffed if down and hoped that it would be the pick-me-up I needed to make it to the top. Since that day I have been trying to keep up with Jim. Some days I think it is going to kill me. (It doesn't help that our children inherited his stamina).
This summer, fourteen years later, we hiked the mountain with our twelve year old, Gracie. The flowers were more beautiful than I remember, the rocks were steeper, and the hike was a lot like the journey we've been on together for the last fourteen years. During the hike I couldn't help but think, "It's about the journey, not the destination, because in this life we don't arrive, we become".
