Zippity Do Da

One of the opportunities Dean and I will have while we’re in Ecuador will be zip-lining. 

I feel like this is an experience I should take advantage of because who knows when the chance to dangle in a harness above tree canopies while my flailing body rushes toward the next tree trunk will make itself available again.  However, zip-lining is something you need to be fit and healthy to do.  And, even though it’s not a requirement, it is helpful if you are not afraid of heights.  I used to be terrified of heights but I’m much better now.  I can ride in a car driving over a bridge without hyperventilating.  I can ride those elevators with the glass walls, and if there’s room for me against the back wall I can even do it with my eyes open.   Heck, now I can even walk over a bridge if I have somebody to pry my fingers off the handrail when I get to the other side.  So there’s really no reason for me to abstain from this chance of a lifetime.  I’m not terrified of heights anymore and I am fit and healthy for zip-lining because I am not afraid of germs, slime and spit.  I believe germs, slime and spit have not only made me healthy but kept me healthy.  And I have conducted my own scientific study with resultant data to prove it.

The Theory:

Too much cleanliness can make you ill

The Subjects:

Woman

Man

The Research:

These are the woman’s lunch utensils.  She licks them off really good after each use and then replaces them in the drawer.

The man brings his plastic utensils home to be washed with soap and water.

 

This is the woman’s water bottle.  She cleans it by shaking the remaining water vigorously to remove the slimiest of the spit before emptying and refilling it as needed.   Any water remaining at the end of the day is finished the next day.  Except for Mondays.  On Monday mornings she refills with clean water to begin the week.

The man brings his go-cup home every night to be washed with soap and water.

 

This is the woman’s coffee cup.  She rinses and wipes it out every morning but it has never been touched by soap. (A black interior is just a bonus).

The man drinks tea at work.  He uses his go-cup which he brings home every night as stated above.

 

This is the man’s neti pot. It is used so often it is permanently stored on the bathroom counter.

The only time the woman touches the neti pot is to pick it up and clean under it.







 The Results:
 The woman last had a cold seven months ago which required no outside intervention for recovery.

The man recently completed a regimen of antibiotics to treat his current bout of bronchitis.

The Conclusion:

The woman is smarter than the man … oh, I mean … germs, slime and spit make you a healthy candidate for zip-lining.

If you have followed my example and not only replaced your terror of heights with a mere healthy respect, but taken the results of my scientific study seriously, you will also be fit and healthy for any future zip-line opportunities that may come your way.  In the meantime, I have one more possibly scary opportunity for you.  If you think a blog post about my adventure zip-lining would be entertaining, please leave a comment on this blog post.  If I receive 10, 15, 20 comments from real people – and I don’t mean my one friend writing 20 different anonymous comments, I mean 20 different comments from 20 different people (yes, I know it’s terrifying) – I  will write a blog post about the terror ecstacy of zip-lining.  If 20 of you are able to conquer your commenting fears, I promise I will hook my quivering, hyperventilating wrinkled old body into a harness and zip across the trees.  And I will blog about my experience.  But I’ll make sure Dean is there with me so if I pass out in mid zip he can tell me what a great time I had.

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Zippity Do Da