Perspective

I need to get some, I think! The past few weeks have been... tough, but I'm not quite sure I can put a finger on why. Stick with me while I try to figure it out?

Yes, I recently lost a friend to cancer, and I am mourning that loss. Cole was an amazing person and he will be missed. He definitely went too soon. But there's more to my unrest than that. I'm fairly certain that EVERY person I know has something fantastic going on in life right now. Marriage, babies, promotions at work, vacations, buying a house...and I, I remain in a state of continual homeostasis. The most exciting thing in my life, of late, is the fact that I was able to drive a whole month on the same tank of gasoline.

Hip.

Hip.

Hooray...

Frankly, it goes to show just how ordinary my life really is.

I think what's bothering me is the fact that my "ordinary" life is bothering me. I should be happy to be in a state of homeostasis. Who wouldn't want to have a life where they are able to "maintain internal stability, owing to the coordinated response of [the collective] parts to any situation or stimulus that would tend to disturb its normal condition or function"? That sounds pretty dang great. I have a home, and a job, and a car, and friends and dinner plans next Monday night. And there are several other things that happen from day to day that may not be overly exciting, but are certainly positive points in my life.

Unfortunately, we live in a world where it's expected that life should always be exciting. There should always be something major on the horizon. And I'm not sure from where this expectation comes? Is it self imposed? Or is it the byproduct of a social norm that is so focused on obtaining more that we are doing ourselves a disservice by making a simple, ordinary life seem less than desirable?  

Personally, I think it might be time to get back to recognizing just how great it is to be ordinary. There doesn't need to be some grand event ever waiting on the horizon for us to be able to enjoy what we are doing here and now.

So- if you catch me complaining that life is ordinary and never really changes, help me gain a little perspective??

I Ran A Marathon!

 

It was 3:53 in the morning on October 5, 2013. As is usual for me, I was awake a few minutes before my alarm started to chime. I could already feel the excitement and nervousness in my body. I was going to run a marathon and I was apprehensive before I ever got out of bed. It was something I never thought I would do in my life. I never did like running. And who in their right mind would subject themselves to 26.2 miles of it?? Nonetheless, there I was-running gear on, lacing up my running shoes to take on a challenge for which I wasn’t totally sure I was ready. My training had been severely disrupted by river season and my longest run to that point was about 5 miles…Yikes!  As I drove to the Recreation Center I noted all the traffic on the road. Far more than is usual for 5:00 am in St. George. I thought for sure I would have been better off to just walk from my house, but it was cold outside, and I didn’t want to. I decided to risk finding parking at the recreation center and I was successful. It was a small and simple triumph, but it was the first one of my day.

As I walked into the building I felt the warmth inside. Part of it was simply the temperature difference from the cold outside, part of it was the familiarity of the building (I have had an office inside for the past 2 years now), but mostly it was the friendly faces of the people inside. My coworkers, who have become my friends over the past two years, were there, sleep deprived and dead on their feet, to greet me and offer words of encouragement. Brianna hugged me and said, “By the end of the day, you will be a marathoner!”

Because I work for the city (with races and events, in particular) I was afforded a few special privileges at the marathon. Of note was the ride to the start line. Rather than ride a bus to the start, I piled into the lead vehicle with 8 other people and we drove to the start. On the way up, Aaron talked about his running strategy and commented how far the drive was. It took all my self control not to reach over and smack him for that! I was doing everything I could to hold back my panic about the distance and the most seasoned marathon runner I know, the guy who is responsible for this act of lunacy in my life is saying it’s a long way!?! If it’s a long way for him, I know it’s going to be considerably longer for me! I find the nerves weighing in again.

Finally, we arrive at the start line. It’s a crisp 38 degrees but the runners don’t seem to feel it. The atmosphere is charged with energy and pumping with music. The excitement is contagious! My nerves are still there, but I am finally starting to feel like this is something I will be able to do. At the last second, my friend who had considered running with me decides she isn’t prepared for the run, and she is going to ride back to the finish line with Kami. I take off my warm pants and hand them to her before she leaves and wander off into the mass of runners. From out of nowhere a pair of arms is around me. It is my friend Amy! I didn’t know she was running, but seeing her there bolsters my spirits and helps give me strength to do this! We talk and laugh and sing along with the music until it is time to start. As we crowd into the start line chute I think about my boss Aaron, starting with the leaders. He is the reason I am doing this. He is an incredible runner and will be finishing the race as I cross the halfway point.

As the sky begins to glow on the eastern horizon, the race starts and a crush of crazy people make their way across the starting line and head down Highway 18 toward St. George. I settle into an easy pace, knowing I have a long way to go, and not wanting to kill myself before I ever get started. The first miles go by easily. I have run this far plenty of times. I am prepared for it and it feels good. I find myself enjoying the run. As I make my way down the course my thoughts are everywhere! “It is such a beautiful day!” “St. George has such incredible scenery!” “I am probably insane for doing this!” “I wonder how Aaron is feeling (he was out of training with an injury for 6 weeks but made a remarkable comeback just in time to run)?” “How many of my friends are doing this?” “Will I ever do something like this again???” On and on it went!

At mile seven, the course goes through Veyo. It’s a small town but EVERYONE who lives there comes out to cheer on the runners! There is music and food and fun. People make signs and I find myself laughing as I read them. One sign reads, “If it was easy, I would have done it!” and I think about how true that statement is about to become. Just south of Veyo is the first major challenge in the marathon- Veyo hill! It is a steep climb for the first mile, but that’s not what makes it hard. It’s hard because for 2 miles after the steep climb, there is a more gradual, but steady continuation of uphill to overcome. I haven’t run this stretch often, but I have run it recently. During the Red Rock Relay, just a couple weeks before, I was lucky to run this stretch at 2:30 in the morning. Knowing what I was in for, I began my climb. It was tough-at the top of the steep incline, the wind was crossways and biting cold. For the first time in 9 miles I found myself wanting out. But I had made it 9 miles already! I was on a good pace, I felt good and I was determined to keep going.

So go I did. The next several miles passed in a blur. At 13 I was starting to really feel the ache in my muscles and stopped for some Icy Hot on my quads. Then, at 15, it happened. I was running along when the muscles in my calves started to ripple and cramp. I couldn’t run! I could barely walk, but I knew I had to walk. Ahead of me I saw a tall figure I thought I recognized. I fought through the cramping until I caught him, and sure enough, it was Will! As soon as we were close enough he threw his arms around me and asked how I was doing? He could tell I was hurting and passed me some salt pills. Turd’l also passed me a piece of “magic gum” that was going to help with the cramping. I knew it was all in my head, but it helped! Here was the support system I would need to get me to the end of the race. Will said that as long as I could keep with the group he was pacing I would be able to make the cutoff in time and I would finish the race! He told Turd’l to keep me moving, no matter what!

At 19, there is another hill to climb. Not as steep as the one in Veyo, but by 19 you are way more tired than you were at 7! I wasn’t sure I could do it, but Turd’l stayed with me and kept me moving. I ran through 20, but at 21 the pain in my ankles was almost more than I could take. I wanted in the shuttle van more than anything in that moment. In my moment of pain and suffering, just when I thought I couldn’t take another step, 2 of the women with Will’s group came up on either side of me. I was limping some and they could see that I was in pain. They passed me some Advil and one put her arm around me and walked with me (who are we kidding? She basically carried me…) for the next half mile. When the shuttle stopped briefly to see how we were doing, the whole crowd yelled at him to continue on because I wouldn’t be needing a ride- I was going to finish!

As I passed the cutoff point at 23 the Advil was kicking in and I realized I really was going to make it. I still didn’t feel good, and I still started to cramp every time I tried to run, but the finish was in sight. The mental game was over and I knew I could finish. I turned the corner off the highway and onto Diagonal Street to hear a very distinct whistle. It was my family! They were down the road waiting for me with signs and support. Seeing them there, cheering me on and supporting me through this brought me to tears! My sister walked the last 2 miles with me and as we walked she told me about how they had all decided to train and run the marathon next year! It was a very exciting and proud moment for me. I couldn’t believe that my insanity had rubbed off onto them, but it had! As we neared the finish line, Camellia told me to pick it up and run it in. So I did. Cramping calves forced from my mind, I pushed myself into a run to cross the finish line. As I drew near, Aaron was there waiting for me and ran in with me. My name was called over the loud speaker and I knew I had made it! Smiling wide, tears in my eyes, I crossed the finish line to a waiting group of coworkers- Kami, Dawn, Melea, Brianna, Michelle, Nikelle, Hollis, Jess, Aaron- all there to support me, most of us in tears! I suppose that is the other advantage of working where I do. Every person involved with the marathon is someone I know. Someone I work with. Someone from whom I drew support. Once the hugs and tears were under control there, I found my family for another round of hug and tears!

Later that day as I talked with my family, my sister, Belinda, asked me about my experience. “What do you take away from this?” she asked. I’ve thought about it a lot since then, and my answer is this:

Running the St. George Marathon was absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. But it is also one of the most incredible things I have ever done. The running community is amazing. The atmosphere, the camaraderie, the love and support- there is nothing else I have ever experienced that is quite like it. I was carried down that course by more than my own legs on October 5^th. I was carried by the energy of the mass of runners, by the people who believed in my ability to finish, by people who stopped by in the days before the race to wish me luck and drop off gifts, by my family, my friends, and by complete strangers, who saw I was hurting, who saw I was in need and put their own pain aside to help me through.  I didn’t set any records for time. In fact, I was a lot slower than I thought I would be due to the cramping I experienced. But I made it! And when I crossed that finish line I felt liberated, empowered, like I could do anything! And at the end there was a powerful group waiting to celebrate my accomplishment with me.

 

On that day, and every day since, I have thought about this experience and it has given me a perspective I am so thankful for. Everyone should run a marathon because then you will understand what I learned that day-about myself, about other people, about life. You will learn something that only runners really know-it isn’t about how fast you get there. It’s about who’s waiting for you at the end!  

At The End

Sometimes things happen in life that can change the way a person sees things. These things make us better, stronger people, and in my case, give strength to keep going on those difficult days when you just want a pass card on life!

On September 3, a man from St. George was killed in an auto/pedestrian accident. His name was Braydon Nielsen, and I really didn't know him. Through my job I had seen his name and probably his face, but we had never had a conversation. But because of my job, when Braydon passed, I had the opportunity to learn a bit about this kind and amazing man who inspired the people around him. He is the kind of person I want to be. I won't take the time to tell you his story, but if you are interested, you can learn about him here or here. Suffice it to say, his story is worth reading.

The significance of Braydon's story in my life came about a week after his passing. Lyndy Butler, a local musician, was commissioned to write a song for Braydon and thanks to the ever informing world of Facebook, I was introduced to a sweet and simple song with a powerful message. It is undoubtedly my favorite song right now. I listen to it multiple times a day. You can listen to it here, if you would like-and I recommend you do! It is applicable on so many different levels.

I am often guilty of getting caught up in wanting what I want right now and I fail to see the world around me. It's incredibly selfish, and a trait I am not necessarily proud of. This song is a gentle reminder to me that:

• When life is difficult we need to keep moving forward with a smile
• Everyone is facing a struggle we know nothing about and we need to be kind to one another
• I am lucky to have amazing friends and family who are waiting to help me in my time of need
• If we surround ourselves with people who love us, the hard things in life are a little less hard
• Things happen on the Lord's timetable-not mine
• My Heavenly Father loves me! (for those of you who don't know, I am LDS and you can learn more about what I believe at www.lds.org)
• You don't have to win to be a winner, just gotta be somebody's friend-
• It's not about how fast you get there...It's about who's waiting for you at the end!

Even though the last few weeks have been tough, and I have faced some difficulties, I have found my way through by putting one foot in front of the other. I am incredibly blessed and thankful to each of you for your part in making me the person I am. I look forward to seeing you all, At The End.

Who Said Running Is Fun?!?!

I am 31 years old and have never called myself a runner. Running was only something I did in high school because my coach made me. It was usually a punishment for something--missed serves, a lost game. Therefore, my conditioning the past 15+ years has been to think of running as a punishment. Add to that the fact that I have exercise induced asthma when I run and you can easily see how running has been a completely negative thing for me, right?

Then, about a year ago I started the job I am currently in. Races and Special Events for the City of St. George. It's fun. Stressful, but fun. Though there are things about my job that make me crazy from time to time, there are also lots of perks. One such perk is working with my boss. We are polar opposites, he and I. I am all about order and organization. I like to get things done in a timely and often linear manner. A+B=C for me. Aaron, on the other hand, is totally random. He is all about having fun and has the attention span of a goldfish. But I love working with him. I have learned a lot from him.

One thing in particular-- I have learned that running is not necessarily a punishment. It can be fun, if you do it right. So what does it mean to do it right?? Well, I figured that out this past weekend. A few weeks ago I decided to run the St. George marathon in October. It had a lot to do with Aaron. He is addicted to running (not to mention VERY good at it!) and has been telling me for a year now that I should run the marathon. I told him he was nuts. But recently I have felt like I needed a goal to work toward, and this seemed to make sense. Especially since I spend my days in close quarters with the best runner in the area.

I'm sure you're wondering what this has to do with running being fun? Well, I'm about to tell you. Yesterday, I ran in my first race ever. It was hard. I had no idea what I was doing. I haven't been running enough to really be ready for what I did, but I did it. It was great! If you are familiar with Red Rock Relay, you will know what I am talking about. If not, let me explain.

Red Rock Relay is a race series, kind of like Ragnar. They offer 4 different Red Rock Races. Park City, Moab, Zion (this is the longest and the largest, I believe) and, new this year, Dixie. That's the race we ran. Because we work closely with Red Rock, we trade race entries back and forth on a fairly regular basis. As Dixie approached, I mentioned to Aaron that it would be fun to run it. He could have said no. He could have put together a team of elite runners, like himself, who run 5 minute miles. But he didn't. He let my slow little legs take on a race they weren't prepared for, with a team that couldn't have been better. They were all so fun, so kind and so patient with me. Cheering me on when I was dying and laughing with me as we drove the course while other team members were running much more challenging legs.

The weather wasn't perfect. It was cold and windy. There was snow on the ground in places. But there is something amazing about the camaraderie that develops during a race like this. It was just fun! So a huge thank you to my team from yesterday. Kyle, ConnaDay, Shiloh, Aaron, and Jill--I had a blast and because of your influence there has been a shift in my thinking. Running isn't a punishment. It can be fun!

Am I sore today? Yes. Would I do it again? In an instant. Who said running was fun??? That was me!

People Who Live At The End Of Dirt Roads

I split time growing up between St. George, UT and the Arizona Strip. I claim both places as home. My family was not then, and we are not now affluent. But we got by just fine. Not once do I remember going to bed hungry as a child-unless it was because I chose to throw a fit over what we were being served for dinner! I lived in a lovely home my parents built, where I shared a room with siblings until enough of them moved out that I was able to have my own room. I had a car in high school. A 1977 Pontiac Bonneville! It wasn't new, nor was it fancy, but I had one. I have been on fantastic trips to places many can only imagine. I was very blessed in this regard.

But I often feel I was more deeply blessed by my time spent on the Arizona Strip. I had the wonderful opportunity as a child, to glimpse what it might have been like to live in the olden days. I learned the meaning of hard work, even if I didn't appreciate it at the time. I know what it is to cook over open flame (and I'm not talking about a gas stove, here), to sleep on the ground, to be so cold you think you will never be warm again and so hot you are willing to brave the muck around the edges of the water in the cow pond as you run in, full speed! I've consumed water from cow troughs and eaten cold beans from a can when we were just too tired to care about warming them up.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the comforts of my life. There is a balance to be found. Nothing is quite so soothing as a hot shower when you have been on the trail for days, when the dirt is etched into the lines on your face and cracks in your hands. But sometimes I think that life is much simpler in the dirt. Sometimes, I really miss living at the end of a dirt road! Which brings me to this...

Years ago, when I was still working at the Bar Ten Ranch in the summer, there was a great old cowboy who lived on the ranch full time. We all called him Uncle Verdon. He wasn't really my uncle, but I suppose he may as well have been. He'd known me for as long as I was alive. He was a very unique person and I loved hearing his stories about his youth. He was a fantastic storyteller! One day when we were talking he passed me a paper with a story printed on it. The words sunk into my soul and every so often I think back on the message contained therein:

People Who Live At The End of Dirt Roads: We had better values when the roads weren't paved. By Lee Pits

Do you really want to know what is wrong with American society today?
Too many of our roads have been paved.

There's not a problem in America today--crime, education, drugs, the divorce rate--that could not be improved with more dirt roads.

Dirt roads build character. People who live at the end of dirt roads know that life is much more enjoyable when taken at a slower pace. They know that life can be dirty, boring, and jar you right down to your teeth at times. They also have a greater appreciation for what's waiting at the end of the bumpy ride--their home, their kids, a frisky dog and a loving spouse.

We wouldn't have near the trouble with our educational system today if more kids still lived at the end of dirt roads and had to take the bus to school. In the old days, buses usually wouldn't go down dirt roads, so the kids had to walk to the bus stop. In doing so, they got a lot more exercise than they would sitting in front of television for hours on end. Kids often learned more on the bus then they did in the classroom, too. Bus riders seldom became social misfits. Kids learned how to get along, how to make conversation, and often did their homework on the bus. Usually, the last kid to get off the bus at the end of the route was the smartest kid in the class.

At the end of dirt roads youngsters soon learned that bad words tasted like Ivory Soap. An older brother or sister took real good care of a younger sibling because often they were the only ones to play with--or to blame things on. The children knew that play time couldn't come until the chores were done; but they would secretly tell you that when the chores were done, so was a lot of the real fun. Bottle feeding the calves, collecting eggs and feeding the horse wasn't really work, at least not to a country kid.

There was less crime in our streets when most of them were dirt. Criminals just didn't walk two miles of dirt road to rob or rape, because if they did, they were apt to be welcomed by five barking dogs and a double-barrel shotgun. People peddling vitamin supplements and religion stayed away in droves. There were no drive-by shootings either.

We had much better values when the roads were worse. Grown-ups didn't cherish their cars more than their kids. Country folks didn't drive $50,000 foreign cars down roads that were like corrugated iron. Instead, they drove pickup trucks that pleaded in the dust on the tailgate, "Please wash me!" but no one ever did. Why bother? It would just get dirty again.

People were much more courteous in the days of dirt. Drivers didn't tailgate, because if they did, they would choke on your dust or get a rock through their windshield. Dirt roads taught patience.

Fancy folks didn't use hair spray or mousse gel in their hair in the days of dirt roads. If they did, by the time they got to the end of a road, their thirty-five dollar haircut would be a sticky, gooey, filthy mess. Butch wax was bad enough.

Most paved roads led to a  dead end. Dirt roads, on the other hand, most likely ended at a fishing creek or a favorite swimming hole. At the end of a dirt road, there was no need to arm your alarm or lock your car, unless it was to keep the neighbor from filling it with zucchini.

Dirt roads were much more environmentally friendly, too. You just didn't hop in your car and deplete the ozone layer to run to town to get a quart of milk. Instead, you went outside and milked the cow. You walked down to the end of the driveway to get the mail--usually catalogs from which you ordered everything from china cups to calico. If it rained and the road was washed out, you just stayed home, maybe even had a family conversation. Remember those?
At the end of a dirt road, there has always been extra income when a city dude got his car stuck and you had to pull him out. Usually you received a dollar or two; always, you got a new friend.

Now many of our roads have been paved over and some call it progress. Where do these roads lead? Mostly to trouble, I'd say.

This country was a lot better off when most of our people lived at the end of dirt roads.**

Now, I'm certainly not saying I agree with every word spoken in this story, but the overall theme, the feel of the message has value for me. Isn't it time that we rediscovered what is really important in life? Family, friends, love, service!

With cell phones and the internet, everything has become so easily accessible that we seem to be constantly living in fear that we are going to miss out on a better offer... Are we so ill-content with what we are doing that we cannot simply take joy in the moment?

So, turn off your phone, and take a walk down a dirt road. I know I will.

Vegetables Aren't Just For Diets Anymore

My sister and her family live in St. Louis, MO, so I don't get to spend nearly enough time with them. One day, when I have access to my own private jet, I will be able to fly back and forth at will, but for now, I have to settle for phone calls and a visit every year or so...It's not enough, but I take what I can get.

So, earlier tonight, my sister and her kids were stuck in their basement due to a tornado warning in their area.In a state of complete entrapment and utter boredom, they turned to me for entertainment! I feel so special! I got a text message asking if I wanted to Skype. As I had some free time, I jumped at the opportunity to chat with my sister and her girls for a while.

Through the course of our conversation we discussed a variety of topics. I got to see my sweet nephew- who is nine months old now, and I still haven't had the chance to meet him. I'm really looking forward to getting him out here so I can spoil him rotten for a while! Anyway, as per the norm when a single gal is talking with her sister (and in this case her 14 year old niece), we got around to the current state of my dating life. It's always a source of entertainment for me to tell about the recent dates I've been on. The good, the bad, the ugly (and I'm not talking physical features here...!).

I generally share a few of the highlights, my sister asks what the future holds, I tell her I don't know for sure but that I am looking forward to finding out and then we move on to a new subject. It's pretty standard procedure. Tonight, however, we had a little variation in the routine. I don't think I have ever come out of a dating conversation laughing as much as I did tonight. (Well, maybe once before I did. Remind me sometime to tell you the "There's your hand!" story.) Anyway...as I was wrapping up one of my dating stories, my niece chimes in "You need a fresh vegetable from the garden. Not an old moldy one from the store!" It gave us all a good laugh!

First,  let me just say, I am so thankful for a family who cares about my dating life. Despite the frustration that is sometimes connected with having an involved family, it is nice to know that they love me and care about who I date. They want me to be happy, to have the very best! I think that's pretty incredible.

Second, I guess vegetables aren't just for diets anymore. To all the single gals out there- it appears we need to be looking for fresh vegetables from the garden. Not old moldy ones from the store! It's good advice for diets and for dating.

Who would've guessed?

Deoderant and Dental Floss

I would not really describe myself as a resolution setter. I always feel a little silly. Not to mention, most New Years resolutions are abandoned within the first 3 weeks of January. Instead, I have adopted the idea of setting a yearly theme for myself. It is generally a one word phrase that is displayed prominently in my room and a few other places I frequently find myself. Last year's theme was "Hope". The year before that was "Simplify".

This year I have decided to take on the theme of "Charity". It has already been a struggle in a lot of ways. I frequently catch myself being less kind than I should be or getting upset about things that are really of little significance. I know it's a yearly theme, and I can't expect to be perfect in the first attempt on this one (or the second or third or fourth or...you get the point!)  Frankly, there is a lot of room for me to grow in this particular undertaking! But I find it a worthwhile goal and ask you to help me succeed as I try to progress in this. (And to forgive me when I fail!)

In addition to having a theme for the year I have also developed (well, in all actuality, stolen) a slogan. And I have set a few goals. I won't bore you with the details of all I am attempting as I do not wish to put you to sleep, but one of the goals I am working on I do wish to share. I decided that from now until June 1st, I will live without making any unnecessary expenditures. This goal was vocalized a few weeks ago as I went through my room and got rid of a lot of things I don't use anymore. As I moved more and more items from my room to the bag of donations I found myself thinking about how much money I spend on a whim. A shirt here, a pair of pants there. It's no big deal, right? I'm single. It's not like I can't afford it.

I recognize that "unneccessary expenditures" is a very subjective term and can, therefore be twisted to meet the wants of whomever may be making this attempt. And my goal here is cerainly not to deprive myself of everything. I just want to be more aware of my spending habits. When talking to one of my friends about my goal I told her, "Deoderant and dental floss- that's all I am allowed to purchase between now and June! Hold me to it!" Now, that really wasn't a realistic statement, but now, before I make a purchase, I ask myself, "Is this something I really need to fulfill an obligation or maintain my health and well being?" If the answer is yes, great! If, however, the answer is no, I return the item to the shelf, and move on.

It has been working out incredibly well so far. I have been much more conscientious of my spending and therefore have been able to curb the purchase of unnecessary items that do little more than clutter my life. And you know something else? As I have cut my spending habits I have found that the things I find myself wanting and needing have a way of finding me. It's actually pretty great! At the rate I'm going, I may not even have to purchase deoderant or dental floss!