Believe it or not, I am asked daily by random people on the streets, “Boony, how do you remain so ridiculously good looking?” And to this I usually turn to the person, look them kindly in the eyes, and respond, “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME” before I kick them through a glacier.
But seriously, the way I am able to maintain my beautifully chizzled body is simple. Every weekend I hike up and down a 4,500 foot mountain with my family. This not only builds muscles that can later be used for kicking strangers (Kicking Strangers would be a cool name for a band) through glaciers, but also forms a never-ending pit of hatred towards anyone that touches you.
For those of you who hike, or appreciate hiking, or even watch documentaries about people who have perished in a hiking accident, I would like you to come to my house so I can make you listen to loud emo music until your ears bleed. Hiking, walking, jogging, or basically anything that has to do with movement sucks. It’s official, and I believe it’s even in the bible:
“And on the 5th day, God created a man named Adam. And God told Adam that he can eat any of the fruits in the garden, except the apple tree in the center. To this Adam replied ‘Can I have a skooter?‘.”
Not many people in Arlington hike, and the one kid that was a religious hiker (David) moved to Waltham and is now next to a Burger King. This means that I am the only kid in Arlington that has recently wanted to punch his sibling in the head just because he stepped in a mud puddle. For those of you who don’t hike (basically all of you) allow me to tell you what I was forced to endure:
We started off at the bottom of the mountain, which was wet, cold, and generally uncomfortable. We started off strong, hurdling rocks and even making jokes. As we moved up the mountain, the wet, cold, and uncomfortable conditions were replaced with leaves. Trees everywhere decided that is would be funny to drop their leaves on everything, making it impossible to distinguish a rock from a jagged lightsaber pointing out of the soil. This caused many falls, and people everywhere were seen tumbling down the mountain, forcing my family to hurdle them (like the game Donkey Kong, but replacing the Italtian Mario with a sexy Dutch kid, and substituting barrels for rolling hikers).
As we progressed up the mountain the leaves began to disappear, and we were happily greeted by more wet, cold, and
generally uncomfortable weather. Instead of tripping over leaf-covered lightsabers, we bundled up in sweatshirts and jackets in order to prevent from freezing to death. Our game of “Donkey Kong” was changed to “Don’t stop moving or else you’ll go numb.” We literally sprinted up the mountain, only this time it wasn’t because we were excited, it was because we were all in a bad mood and wanted this friggen trip to end.
At a spot were we took a break, my brother wouldn’t give me any of the Chex Mix. This would regulary result in name
calling and stern talking tos, but because of the increase of elevation and lack of air, I kicked my brother through a glacier and ate all the Chex Mix.
Luckily, the top of the mountain replaced the wet, cold, and uncomfortable conditions with windy, wet cold, and uncomfortable conditiontions. There was, however, a conveniently placed cliff for the people who preferred a quick death rather than freezing and blowing away (like the Canadian flag). One family accidentally paused to take a picture and froze into a glacier, so I kicked a stranger through them.
P.S.– Glacier Kicking would be a cool name for a band
P.P.S.– Or an Olympic event.