Going it Alone

Bob was convinced that I hated camping, rafting, canoeing, tubing, and boating. Not true. I just didn't care to engage in these activities as frequently as he liked. I joined him on these expeditions once or twice a year, and when we owned our lakeshore property, at least twice a month.

But it was never enough for him. Not the times in spring when we embarked on 3-day canoeing and camping trips in Pennsylvania with twelve other couples; not the 18 mile bike rides through the Virginia countryside, not the day-long sea kayaking trip along the California coast, not the hikes along Blue Ridge Mountain trails, the hours of couples tennis, nor the 5-mile runs in European cities to see the splendor of old world architecture on foot. We've gone gliding, ballooning, and sailing. But as far as he was concerned, I never desired physical activity enough.

After he left, I continued to pursue some of the outdoor activities we once enjoyed. I arranged half day tubing trips down the James River with friends and family; and joined girlfriends on hikes along Blue Ridge trails. Of course I'm much older now, and my back and knees are creaky and sore, so I've stopped running and playing tennis.

One cheeky young guide told me how "brave" she thought I was, a fifty-something woman, for going it alone and joining a group of strangers to go rafting. But what choice did I have? So few women my age actively seek out these kinds of activities, and if I wanted to do it I had no choice but to go alone.

I no longer have anything to prove to Bob, of course, but sometimes as I course down the river in a raft with a group of strangers, I think smugly of the fact that I am still pursuing these activities on my own, while (quite accurate) rumors have it that Bob's new wife doesn't engage in any of these activities at all.

Ooooh, finally a snarky comment on my blog about my ex and his new soul mate. I'm just recovering from a long bout with the flu, so please excuse my lapse in good divorce manners.