Trena Eiden

A while back, Gar and I visited our daughter, Lunny, in Salt Lake City.

She’s a traveling neonatal intensive care nurse and was completing a 13-week assignment at a hospital in the area. She usually stays at an Airbnb, so we got a hotel room and she came to hang with us. She’s a mountain climber, presently training for a snow-and ice-covered mountain at 20,300 feet. To prepare, among other things, she’s carrying 60 pounds in her backpack while doing a stair stepper for an hour at a time. It’s cringe worthy on the level of seeing me naked.

At the hotel, Lunny went to the fitness center and had been running on a treadmill for 10 minutes by the time I got there. I had to get into a T-shirt and stretch pants — as in, they have no choice. I got on the elliptical machine near her and went up and down a bit. It wasn’t easy and I finally realized I needed to turn it on. That didn’t help; it was still not good.

When my thighs got tired, I checked to see how long I’d been going: two minutes. What? Glancing over, I saw Lunny wasn’t even breathing hard. While she kept running, I got off the elliptical and got on the rowing machine. It was better but still work.

After a few moments, Lunny turned around and, frowning, stated, “You need to pull back, not just let it come back to you.” Mind your beeswax, Lunny. She kept running and I noticed she was getting pink cheeks.

I got off the rower and started to get on the spinner. Someone with legs had been on before me so I adjusted the length to shorter than short and began. It wasn’t that fun either. In fact, a spinner is a bike, but with a smaller seat.

I got on the treadmill next to Lunny’s and walked while she continued running. As I turned up my speed, I glanced over at hers. Yikes! Wait, maybe she’s just a show off. She was beginning to sweat a little and I wondered if I could do that — fake sweating. While one of us walked and one of us ran, I tried to get the television to start on my machine’s screen. Obviously, she was too busy running to watch a movie but I wasn’t. Point for me.

Finally, she got off her treadmill. She was slightly out of breath and a bit drippy. I wasn’t drippy. My legs were a little fatigued, mostly from getting on and off the equipment, and I regretted not starting the elliptical before beginning on it. I could have registered another minute. I don’t know if another minute would have made me look sweaty, but a spray mister would have. What? Lunny felt the need for a shower. I didn’t, and pointed it out, “Just another mark for Momsie, who seems to be racking up points like a pool shark.”

Recently, Lunny was visiting her brother and his family and decided to go for a run. Seeing her getting ready, her 8-year-old niece, Mads, asked if she could join her. Lunny said, “Yes, but it’ll be a long run, so you can ride your bike to make it easier for you to keep up.” Mads, being flesh of my flesh, hesitated, thinking, then replied, “Well, I don’t really want to sweat.”

Traveling down the lane, with Mads peddling at a pretty good clip,  it wasn’t long before she said, “I’m sweating now, are we almost done?” Lunny told her no, so they kept going. Shortly, feeling a little weary, Mads said, “I’m ready to walk when you are.” Lunny kept running without answering so Mads said, “Aunt Lunny, this is hard, why do you exercise?” Lunny expounded on the virtues of fitness, mentioning it’s healthy for her, makes her strong, prepares her for big treks and said, “Mads, later, when you’re done, you’ll feel better.” Mads replied, “I don’t care if it makes me feel better later, all I care about is that I’m tired now.” Lunny giggled, “You sound like Grammy.”

They kept going with Mads talking more or less nonstop then noticed Lunny was quiet and beginning to pant a bit. She said, “Aunt Lunny if it’s too hard for you to talk while you’re running, I can just talk.” Lunny burst into guffaws: “You’re definitely Grammy’s girl. We’ll start calling you Trena Jr.”

It’s a tough call. Should I be proud or indignant?