Friday, May 25, 2012

Camping with Muppets

"Do you want us to take a picture of you little muppets?" I'm not sure if that was her exact phrasing but it did strike me as funny that I was just called a muppet. Me, a thirty-year-old woman, was just called a muppet. My camping buddy, also a woman and also my age, and I often acquire strange looks and comments from people out in the outdoors. 


I was always thought it was because we were two girls camping alone until this woman's comment. It isn't our sex, it's our size. I'm 5'3" and my buddy just a little shorter. We also don't look our age. People I meet always ask me what I'm studying. When I say I'm done with school, they reply, but what about college?


I may have the smallest bike at the triathlons (my tires don't hit the ground when it hangs on the rack), my best friend is a step ladder, and I almost hug my steering wheel to be able to touch my pedals. But on the positive side my skis are so short, it's easier to flip backwards when teaching; my bike fits in my car without a rack, and I fit into cracks in the rocks others can't. When I'm told I'm short, I say I'm just the right size for me.

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