Sweaty Encounters

WARNING: this post may be too graphic for some. Bodily functions are discussed liberally.

This is a strong statement, but I'm pretty anti-gyms. However, in light of recent freezing temperatures and HORRIBLE inversion (inversion is Salt Lake's euphemism for smog), I gave in and purchased a temporary pass to the local rec center (technically not a real gym because there aren't as many tank-top wearing muscled out bros nor matching outfitted light-cardio bro-hoes, and it's MUCH cheaper). One unfortunate thing that comes along with indoor treadmill running is the lack of air resistance, thereby resulting in large amounts of perspiration for above average sweaters such as myself. Seriously, I'm always AMAZED when I see people getting off the treadmill perfectly dry, while I look like I've been swimming laps.

On a similarly tied note, a few weeks ago, I posted a less than kind photo of my brother, without giving a proper explanation. And to answer the many questions, no, he is not secretly doing an ad campaign for Right Guard. Whilst pondering the treadmill and Andrew's slightly embarrassing photo, I began to compile a mental list of my sweatiest ordeals in life. Here is a list of the top five (in no particular order):

1. Climbing to the top of the pyramids in Tikal National Park, Guatemala. Just imagine a frizzy haired girl climbing lots and lots of stairs in a Central American rain forest. You get the picture (literally- here it is).

2. I've become quite accustomed to living in the dry climate of Utah to the point where I think my sweat glands would have a hay-day if I ever moved to a humid area. One example to illustrate the truthfulness of this statement involves a visit to East Texas, where my brother and sister-in-law used to live. I remember going for a run in the midday Texas sun and returning to find Tristan's face with a look of horror and utter disbelief; she did not know such perspiration could be achieved in real life. Since I don't have photographic proof of this event, I'll just post a picture of the cute kids I saw in Texas instead:

3. The previously mentioned Dodger game, although it was in October, was sincerely a sweaty experience. LA was experiencing record-highs for that time of year and we were sitting underneath a blazing SoCal sun, unprotected in the Left Pavilion. One of the sure-fire ways to rate sweaty encounters is if shin sweat was involved. Yes, sweating from the FRONT of the legs, and I assure you, there were plenty of swins (= sweaty shins) that day at Chavez Ravine. In Andrew's defense, yet also to his fault, I must add that he wore probably the WORST possible color for sweat detection.

4. Working in the desert on the Colorado River, one will be exposed to extremely high temps, but 2 activities in particular may drive that same person to the brink of their perspiratory capabilities. These two activities are: rowing in high-stress situations and setting up the toilet in camp. We like to call hot experiences on the river, "face-melters." If you inquire more about the use of this term, I can use it in a sentence.

4a. On numerous occasions I have had passengers ask: "Umm, are you okay?" after seeing my warm, sweat-soaked skin (sorry if that sounds like an unintentional excerpt from a bad romance novel) as we approach rapids. The following is actually not a gross, high stress, or even Colorado River rowing picture, but actually a rather cute one from the Salmon River in Idaho:

4b. This is obviously not a picture of me setting up a toilet but instead a much more pleasant shot from one of my favorite bathroom locations in all of Cataract Canyon. I assure you that this is more pretty than a girl who has just melted her face off carrying 2 very heavy, large, metal toilet boxes for several hundred yards over sandy/rocky terrain in the 106 degree heat of the day:

5. Virtually any Stake Youth Dance that I attended from ages 14-17. Yes, it is sad but true that I danced my pants (or tight, knee length skirt) off to such music as: Cotton Eyed Joe, any Venga Boys song, TLC (R.I.P. Left-Eye), and even slow danced to various Backstreet Boys and Seal tunes while oogling boys from the Long Beach and Cypress Stakes. It is a travesty, yet a blessing that we did not have digital cameras back in those days to properly photo document those fantastic evenings. Instead, here is a photo with some of my main homegirlz, who I boogied the nights away with.

Dear friends and family, please remind me if I have forgotten any other note-worthy moments.