Her Name Was Nola, She Was A Hiker

Hike Time: 1 hour, 10 minutes
Amount of Hike Completed: All 3.5 miles!
Temperature: low 60s
Wavelengths Present: Nola


Apologies for such a late post! But it turns out, this story takes two days to tell. Nola is just that special ...

Monday, August 6, 2007


I am rarely ever 100% certain of anything. Will I eat lunch today? 95% certain. Will my mom call me this week? 60% certain. Does gravity exist? 99.9% certain.

However, last night, after hearing of Kristyn's big plans for her morning and hearing hesitation in Kathy, I woke up with 100% certainty that I was hiking alone today. It made me a little bit nervous - would I be able to push myself to finish the whole hike? Would I push myself to run any of the hike? I didn't even have my iPod with me. How was I supposed to survive a 3.5 mile hike just thinking? After all, part of the reason I started this little endeavor of mine was to get me obsessing about something healthier than what I was obsessing about before!

My stomach churned a bit as I drove up Stanford Avenue; I was definitely NOT looking forward to this hike.

As I pulled up to park, I noticed a vaguely familiar, white Ford parked in front of me. I looked closer - Texas license plates! Nola was here. Relief washed over me; so much for being 100% certain that I was hiking alone.

I walked briskly to meet Nola at the bottom of the hill. Nola's undergraduate adviser had pestered her all through undergrad to exercise; "youth is wasted on the the young" her adviser would sigh. After joining me in this endeavor, Nola emailed her old adviser to let her know. Apparently, it's one of the few times Nola's adviser has been proud of her, other than being proud of her prodigious academic achievements, of course.


It's been a while since Nola and I spent time one-on-one. We used to meet more regularly, about once a month if memory serves. We had developed this lovely tradition of chatting over Indian food. After work, I'd swing by Nola's place to pick her up and whisk her away to Darbar, a cozy little restaurant behind the Shell station in downtown Palo Alto. Nola would carefully peruse the menu for the ideal dinner item. I was more predictable - pakora for an appetizer, butter chicken for an entree. We'd talk for what seemed like hours about anything that was on our minds, all the while chowing down our dishes; I'd tell you what we talked about, but "what happens at Darbar, stays at Darbar." I dare say that wasn't a single trip to Darbar that did not involve seconds on the rice or the naan. After we had (almost) licked our plates clean, we'd head on home for the evening, our stomachs so full they were almost bursting.

This morning, however, we were running on empty. I'm starting to think that it's a little silly to get up and go running without eating breakfast first; both Nola and I agree that we lose our appetite for breakfast after we've gone hiking. However, that would require getting up even earlier, and that's just plain out of the question. After powering through the first hill, we took our first (and only!) pause of the hike. I don't know what came over me, but after the oh-so-grueling second hill, I just kept on going. Nola noticed. "No pause?" she asked. Nope, no pause. I'm determined to make a bit of progress on each hike, even if it's as small as cutting one stop out of the hike.

And then, the running began. On Friday's hike, I had warned most of the group that I was planning on adding running to the hike regimen. Nola had been out of the loop on these plans, and I think I caught her a little bit by surprise. Today, however, we both knew that running was in the works. As usual, the first stretch of running was the hardest; my muscles were tired from dragging me up the hills, and this time, without that precious extra stop! Then on, it was kinda a piece of cake. I even added an extra sports bra to my hiking attire, making the running a little less painful.

From an outsider's perspective, our conversation must have seemed quite odd. On the walking stretches, the speed of our conversation outpaced our walking tempo by a few orders of magnitude. The running stretches, however, were filled with silence punctuated by my short gasping breaths; how anyone talks while running is beyond me. As we walked on, the cadence of our conversation seemed to increase, as if we were trying to make up for lost time.

Before we knew it, the hike was over and it was time to say our goodbyes. If there's anything I learned today, it's that I can be 100% certain that I have been blessed to have befriended such a lovely person as Nola.

Tuesday, August 7th, 2007

In a sermon at MPPC a few weeks ago, I learned the following tidbit of information. The three phrases that people identified that they wanted to hear the most were the following:

1. I love you.
2. You are forgiven.
3. Supper is ready.

The first two are kind of givens; who doesn't need love and forgiveness? When our pastor told us the third, however, the congregation giggled. It got me thinking, however, about how paramount food is to our physical and emotional happiness and how large a role food plays in our lives.

Tonight, food (more specifically, meatloaf) brought two friends even closer. Nola and I had some business to take care of; I'm taking over her role as NSO czar for IV grad this year and I had to learn all the tricks and tips. I suggested that we talk over dinner; more specifically, that we could talk while making dinner. Nola had been pestering me for a while to share my recipe for turkey meatloaf with her, so I figured, what to better way to share the recipe with Nola than to have her help me make it? This meatloaf is one of my favorite things to make. It's simple to make, incredibly tasty, and can make myself and entire week of dinners in one go. I was pleased to find out that Nola had been craving this meatloaf since Tracy and I had served it at small group ... in November.

Everything in Nola's apartment makes me feel like a giant. Everything from the salt shaker to the sponges to the guitar in the corner, even the dish rack (!), is pint-sized, much like it's owner. Just to poke a little fun (and because I was curious), I took a peek at the cabinets above her stove. They were filled with knick-knacks and some muffin pans; things Nola admitted she didn't use very often. Unfortunately for Nola, the counters are not as pint-sized as she would like; to mash the potatoes, Nola had to set the bowl on one of her bar stools. The counters, on the other hand, were the perfect height for someone as tall as myself; I guess there's still space for this giant in Nola's place.

While the night had been set aside to get down to business, I'd say we probably spent 15% of our conversational energies on NSO. I dare say that Nola and I together could probably spend days discussing the relative merits of mauve and turquoise. It always amazes me how one conversation can so smoothly change direction. One minute, you can be discussing bridesmaids dresses, and then somehow transition smoothly into whether or not vocal tonalities portray a certain 'vibe'.

If I didn't have to get up and hike tomorrow, I can almost guarantee you that I would still be at Nola's right now. I wonder what we would be talking about next. The Spanish Inquisition? Our ideal travel location? Ideal nail polish color for toe nails? It is so wonderful to have someone in my life that is so easy to talk to and enjoyable to talk with.