Real life is enough

A backpacking guru I know told me I should be out on the trail in preparation for my 55-mile haul on the JMT this August. No way I can get ready down in the flat land, said he.
"You need to be at elevation," he advised me. "You need to be walking up a trail with some weight on your back. I don't care if you're a tri-athlete. You can't do all that from down here."
Wrong.
I'm not trying to be obstinate, but I put in my training day by day. I NordicTrak in my garage -- 40 minutes a day in a garage that's sometimes quite warm. I lift weights. I run miles. I have taken up Yoga.
I've been involved in workouts like these since I played high school sports. Richard Nixon was still in his first term when I was in high school. Why am I this crazy? I'll save that for another time. But there are many people just as crazy as I am. I'm not that unusual, nor am I an exceptional athlete.When you use your body every day for physical activities, you're ready for fairly strenuous stuff.
Yesterday in my everyday, flat-land world, I jogged two miles at 5:30 a.m., then helped my daughter and son-in-law to move from one rental to another. Of course, I had no idea none of their friends would be there. So guess who the heavy lifters were? You got it. A 25-year-old stud boy and little old me, the 50-plus nut case.
Turns out, I wasn't paying attention enough to anything yesterday. They told me everything was packed. I should have checked to see they still had full closets, bathroom, kitchen and bedrooms to empty and pack.
I thought it would be a pleasant 98 degrees. That's what the TV guy said on Tuesday. It was 103, and yeah, five degrees makes a big difference.
And, I thought a newly wedded couple wouldn't have much stuff. I kind of underestimated them. They have more clothes, shoes, computers and just stuff than we do and we've been married 29 years. Stuff, stuff, mega oodles of stuff. This, that, the other thing. Times about seven. These kids have stuff. And a beagle, just to show you it's not all about material things.
For 10 hours, we lifted, walked, hefted, walked, grunted, walked, sweated, walked, turned slightly comatose and walked. I've had workouts like that many times in the mountains. Most often, they don't last much past about eight hours. Darn few times has it been 103 when I've done these kinds of workouts in the mountains.
I've felt livelier after I've run half marathons, which usually take me about an hour and 50 minutes to run.
When we dropped the refrigerator some time around 5:30 p.m. during that blur of a day, I felt grateful that it was the last large appliance or piece of furniture that we could mess up while loading the truck. Then I realized we would have to unload the truck.
As the waning sunlight drifted into a stuffy, buggy evening, I remember hearing my name and having a Dr Pepper thrust into my hand.
"I don't know whether to drink or pour it on my head," I told whoever it was who handed me the fizzy stuff. I filled my mouth with the soda and let it dribble down my shirt. Felt really good.
The next morning, I got up at 5:45 and ran two miles. Every old injury I had in my legs came back to visit me.
It felt just like the second day after the start of a long backpack.
Trust me, I'll be ready when it's time to hit the trail.