I don’t like to sweat and I don’t like bugs, but I still try to believe in magic as much as possible. With the way the world is today, you almost have to in order to stay sane – which is pretty funny, when you stop and think about it.

My son and I go on what we call adventures together on a regular basis. Usually this means we wander around abandoned railroad tracks and try not to get bit by snakes, but what happened is these regular adventures of ours have turned into something completely unheard of, but not altogether unwelcome, once the initial shock wore off. I like hiking. This feels kind of like an admission of something salacious that proper people should not discuss, but there it is.

But I don’t actually like to think of it as hiking. I like to think of it as adventures with my kid. We hunt for fairies on the trails at Indian Springs State Park, we tell pretend stories of when the Hogwarts Express travelled down the train tracks by our house, we spy bad guys who need dealing with around Hard Labor Creek State Park, and find sticks to battle with, Harry and Voldemort-style (I’m always Voldemort, by the way), at Panola Mountain. When you’re having fun like this, it doesn’t even seem like you’re doing something good for your body and mind, but boy are we!

Once upon a time I thought hiking meant teetering up dangerous precipices, sweating profusely and fighting back gross insects that sting and possibly something like a rabid fox, wolf or at least a really cranky Labrador. Now I realize that it’s just an extension of the adventure I try to make out of my life every day.

So start small like me. Leave the flip flops in the house, put on some bug spray, and get your fabulous behind out there in the world and make your life as big of an adventure as you can. If you see me and my kid during your travels, stop and say hello. We’ll let you play wizard dual with us. But I still get to be Voldemort.