Flip Flops or Running Shoes?

by Benjamin Todd — November 19, 2007

When I met Jackie, we hit it off right away. We could talk for hours about everything and nothing and her sense of humor matched mine perfectly. She was relatively new to the area and had always wanted to go for a trip to wine country. I was happy to chauffer her around. I planned everything: where we'd stay, the activities we could do, and the restaurants where we could eat. I wanted to squeeze in every thing we could into what little time we had. Apparently, she did not.

Armed with her US and PEOPLE magazine, she was in her bathing suit, relaxing poolside within an hour of our Friday arrival. I happily joined her as my tan was in desperate need of some work. But after a few hours of lounging and reading, I was ready to go exploring. She was ready for a nap. I couldn't hold it against her that she wanted to relax; after all, that's what vacations are for. Unfortunately, it just wasn't what I had hoped for. We had discussed our histories of travel before, but over dinner that night we actually discussed the details. I realized that all her trips were to warm weather destinations, always one city per trip, always ending in a perfect tan. My last big trip had been to Europe in the winter, where I visited 10 cities in 17 days and wore out a brand-new pair of running shoes. I knew how to read a map and liked to cover all of it, she knew exactly how much baby-oil she needed to obtain her skin's perfect hue of golden brown. The next day was going to be a challenge.

Over the next 36 hours, we had a polite battle with each other over what would be done next. I gave up on my list of activities and decided on just one I thought we might be able to accomplish: Our bike ride through the vineyards was breathtaking, and we had a fantastic time. But immediately upon our return, she was ready for another nap.

She asked me after her snooze if I was "feeling okay"--apparently I looked a little restless. I lied and said that I was fine, while in my head I was going over all the things we didn't get to do that weekend.

We hung out a few more times after that trip and always had a great time together. But it became more and more obvious the more we hung out, that she just wasn't ever going to be as active as me. Eventually we called it quits, saying that our lifestyles were just too different. It was a completely mutual split--I think she could see my restlessness and I could certainly see her exhaustion. We could have tried to make things work, but we would have driven each other crazy in the process. She was fantastic enough that I would have had a hard time letting her go if we had let it go on any longer. I'm glad we went our separate ways when we did.