Urgency.
A new gal gave a talk at church and shared this is her favorite word. She framed it in a gospel setting but it struck me this is how I’ve always felt. I have a sense of urgency about living life to the fullest and am frustrated by those who sit back and wait for things to happen.
I’ve never known if this meant I was going to die young or that I would be a darn content 90-year-old without any regrets. Either way, my attitude is the same: get out and live while you still can. I’m reminded of this by people close to me who, due to physical or mental limitations, no longer have that liberty.
When I was 11 years old, I remember the sense of urgency I felt to be the very strongest in soccer and long jump so I would train my jumping/kicking leg for hours on my trampoline and would repeatedly run up and down the steep hills of the nearby gully.
What kind of a warped kid does that?
When I was a single gal living in Salt Lake City, I had a sense of urgency to explore every trail and travel as much as humanly possible because I figured when I finally got married and had kids, that wanderlust would be extinguished forever (how wrong I was).
Now, I’m on the cusp of another milestone: Bode will finally be in school full-time next year and I will have six hours to myself. Through this glorious thing called the Internet, I’ve been fortunate to grow my brand while still being at home with my family.
Recent developments have included my monthly column in the Denver Post and, as of last week, I’ll be a contributor for 9News for family-related stories. I have another project in the works with a friend that could potentially lead to great things but it has created even more urgency to accomplish my bucket list.
Like my days in Salt Lake City, I’ve had the goal to explore every trail along Denver’s Front Range. I’ve put a good dent in the majority of them but I’m always on the lookout for any random, unmarked trail I can sink my bike or hiking boots into.
On Monday, Bode had a playdate after school so I had five glorious hours to myself. I asked Jamie which of two trails I should hit.
“Do the one that leads up to Idaho Springs (a city 20 miles from Denver),” he suggested. “I’m tired of hearing you whine about it.”
True dat. Every time we go to the mountains, I see segments of a bike trail weaving through the forest and have long resolved to do it. The challenges were it was several miles out of town (time commitment) and I couldn’t figure out where the trail started (a wee problem).
But gosh darn it, I did it. I slowly drove up Clear Creek Canyon watching for the start of the trail and found it just before the intersection with I-70. I ditched my car and grabbed my bike. A few miles into my ride, a funny thing happened: the trail turned into a frontage road and it was closed for construction.
What’re the odds? Don’t answer that.
I’d been waiting seven years to bike this trail and I wasn’t turning back. I drove past the road closed sign and a mile later, encountered a construction worker standing guard. I sweetly approached him and asked if I could go through. He radioed his dudes, gave me the go-ahead, and I was soon on my way– weaving around pot holes and road work.
My route alternated between that road and dilapidated trails. Though less-than optimal, I was excited when I arrived at my destination: a ramshackle alley in Idaho Springs.
Not exactly the gleaming summit I’m used to.
Though I have no desire to ever do it again, I’m glad I did it. The worker told me they’re burying power lines and are prepping that road to become part of I-70 to deal with mammoth congestion problems.
That may have been my very last chance and I’m relieved I was able to fit it in before moving onto my next Bucket List item.
Nepal, anyone? 
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 