Oregon: I'm Confused. And Frustrated. And Sad. And Reeling. What About You?

I’m deeply bothered. Bothered by it all. I have watched the video and I still don't think it's clear what happened. I have read the articles—both for and against the occupation. There is a part of me that wishes I could choose sides as easily as the masses I see around me. Applauding or condemning, at will, but I cannot. Maybe I know too much. Perhaps too little?

I’m not here to argue or convince. Merely to try to make sense of it all for myself. A man is dead. I didn’t know him personally, but I know folks who did. And from what I can tell, he was a good man, if imperfect. It saddens me to witness people who cheer his death, and tout that “he got what he wanted”. Probably because I see it differently. While he may have said he would prefer death to prison, it seems to me that what he really wanted was to stand up for a cause in which he believed, to support the healthy use of public lands and to stem government overreach. Were his methods the most reasonable choice? I don’t know. And I don’t think you can REALLY claim to know either. All you can know is what you would have done and what you feel is justifiable for yourself. Unfortunately, we see only a micron of what is happening on both sides of the story. We see only what each side would have us see, for that is their reality and all they can ultimately show us.

I concede that you are entitled to your opinion on the matter, as am I, but when did it become okay to dismiss the life of a man with complete disregard for the fact that he was a man? Where has our humanity gone? Have we, as a society, become so incredibly selfish that the death of another member of the human race is irrelevant? Or worse, a cause for celebration?!? Can we not agree to disagree without exacting a death sentence? Can we not be loving and accepting of one another, even when there are differences? And what of moderation? Isn’t it reasonable that we find a way to use and conserve the lands simultaneously? Every part of me believes there has to be a way to do just that. Stewardship over the land has to be the answer.

Unfortunately, moderation doesn’t sell the people. Extremes do. And if the masses can be polarized under the pretense that one side is wrong and the other right, victory can be claimed and camp set up on personal moral high ground. Ironically enough, each side will claim said victory and the right to be on that moral high ground. Go figure, right?           

Yes. I do know the leaders of the movement. They are cousins, somewhere down the line. Men I have spent days with at our family reunion. They are God fearing men who love the outdoors, ranching, horses, dancing,  and family. They are tellers of stories and practical jokers. 

To a certain degree, I understand their plight, if only as an observer. I know the fight over public land usage in the West is tense. I have been privy to it for as far back as my memory reaches. Whether it’s a fight over land use, water rights, development, mining, air space, endangered species, or a myriad of other topics, it has had a place in my life. Still, at the end of the day, he who controls the water, controls the land out here. It’s just the way it is. Anyone who tells you that water rights in the desert southwest is an easy matter is either uneducated or incredibly naïve. There is nothing easy about water rights out here. Even Senator Barry Goldwater is fabled for saying something along the lines of “We’ll sell you our gold and share our women but if you come after our water you’ll have a fight on your hands!”

This situation is not black and white from where I sit. There is no clear right and wrong. There is so much ambiguity and bias that we may never fully understand the truth of the matter.

So, I suppose, at the end of the day, my plea is simply this…

Seek to understand the whole truth in the matter, not just the truth that suits your fancy. Be moderate and reasonable as you form your opinions. Understand that when someone disagrees with you, it doesn’t make that person inferior, stupid, or evil. Just different from you. Stop the name calling and belittling. Be willing to ask the hard questions and receive the answers that come. But most importantly—see the humanity of the situation. There are, after all, humans on both sides of this fight who are doing what they believe to be right.

Fun, Fall and College Football

I recognize that most of you will think I'm crazy for what I am about to say, and that's okay. I feel like it's time this was out there. I always liked being in school. Always. I remember crying the whole way home on my last day of first grade. School was great. We did fun things and I got to learn SO MANY cool things!

Once I got to high school, I liked being in school so much that I participated in everything! I played volleyball and softball. I was in the madrigals, on the agriculture team, and I did drama.  Granted, I always played the 3rd fence post from the left, cause I can't act and I don't really love to be the center of attention, but I was involved. I went to assemblies and pep rallies and football games. I was involved in clubs and I went to dances. I took honors and AP courses and could write a research paper in my sleep--which sometimes I did!

When I graduated from high school and started college, I took 21 credits both fall and spring semester--and at that point I kinda burned myself out. I think I just did too much. I was working full time as well and trying to have a social life on top of my heavy school load...and I just couldn't keep up. I decided that I needed some time away from school.

I knew that time off for most people was a lifetime sentence. Once you stopped going, it was hard to go back. But I was sure it was what I needed to do. So I took some time. After a year or so, I decided I was ready to go back and finish my Associates degree. If I pushed hard for just one semester, I could finish up. So that's what I did. And then I took some more time.

Finally, in the summer of 2004, I decided it was time to go back and get my Bachelors degree. In January of 2005 I started school at the University if Utah--which in and of itself is quite the story, but I'll save that for another time. My first semester at the U was hard. I didn't know anyone, and my roommates were pretty much crazy. I spent a lot of time driving home to St. George. When summer rolled around, I wasn't sure I wanted to go back in the fall.

But go back I did. And starting fall semester made all the difference in the world. I found some extracurricular activities to get involved in (a huge THANK YOU goes out to all my friends from Encore for making the 05-06 school year so memorable!). And I discovered University of Utah Football!!

And now, every fall, when college football starts, and my Utes take to the field, I want to be back in college. I want to be on campus, in classes, and I want to be in Rice Eccles Stadium, screaming and cheering with the rest of the MUSS! There is something so energizing about being part of it! I'm not the biggest football fan out there (the NFL does nothing for me), but I love college football, and I am the biggest Utah fan out there! It takes 120 credits to get a bachelors degree, and at my last count I think I have about 226... and I would love to go back! For the sleepless nights spent studying and playing, for the professors who know an endless amount about the things they teach, for the friendships and the memories. And for the football. I would go back.

Rain

Rain is beautiful. Especially in the desert. And since I have spent my life in the desert, there are few things I love more than a good rain storm. So what is it that I love about the rain? Lots of things!

First- Rain in the desert gives life. So many people operate under the misconception that there is no life in the desert. I am here to tell you that is incorrect! The desert is teeming with life, if you know where, and when to look for it! From unique wildlife to incredible wildflowers,  rain is the sustaining factor for life in the desert. 

Second- Rain is cleansing. I love the way the world feels after a good rainstorm-- as though everything has been cleaned and is fresh and new. The dust settles and the sky is a bit bluer, the grass a bit greener. The birds sing a bit louder and their song carries through the air a bit farther. All that was amiss gets reset when it rains. 

Third- Rain has the power to transform the world. Don't believe me? Visit an area that has recently seen a flash flood. There are few sights more thrilling and more humbling than to witness a flash flood as it cuts a path through the desert, carrying boulders the size of apartments along as though they are weightless, carving and changing the face of the land. 

Tonight. Tonight, it's raining in St. George. And I decided to go for a walk. 

And there was something so therapeutic about it. Recently, feelings of worry, self doubt and inadequacy have been all consuming.  My ever present companions as I attempt to figure out where my life should go from here. But something happened as I walked in the rain tonight. I got soaked. And as the drops hit my face, pooled together and started to run, I found myself letting go of a little bit of the troubles I have been holding onto so tightly. 

As I walked, I thought about my Savoir, who suffered on a cross, not just for my sins, but for my sorrows. He can take the pain. He can take the worry, the self doubt and the feelings of inadequacy. He can, and he DID. Now, I just need to stop holding on so tightly. 

I think one of my great limitations is that I tend to be afraid of my capabilities. I'm sure you are all familiar with the quote by Marianne Williamson that reads:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate; our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us. It is in everyone."

So my question is why? Why are we afraid to shine? Why are we afraid of the greatness that we possess? Have we allowed the world to beat it out of us? We all know that misery loves company and when we are down, the last thing we want is someone to make us feel better, right? I mean, if you can't join my pity party, you certainly aren't welcome to have a celebration of your own in my presence. I'm not discounting the value of mourning something lost. There is a time and a purpose to grief. But don't hold on when the time is past. Look forward to the future and remember to stay positive. Some of your best days are still to come!

So I issue this challenge--to myself and all who are willing. Stop holding on so tightly to the things that make life hard. Instead, give them to the Savior for He knows what to do with them. Forgive a bit more easily. Smile without hesitation. Offer a kind word. Stop worrying. And stop comparing. Surround yourself with those who lift you up and help you to be your very best self!

Funny, that all of that came from a 10 minute walk in the rain...

The ABC's for my New Year

Just in case you have been living in a time warp somewhere and missed the fuss, the fireworks and the fun, it's now 2015!!

Personally, I have never been much of a New Years Resolutions kind of a girl. For the past several years, I have made a modified attempt at it, wherein I decide on a focus for the year, rather than setting a list of resolutions. A few years back, my focus was to simplify. The next year I set my sights on serving others. And I am happy to report that I feel I have been successful in this form of resolution setting. Is that to say I have been perfect in my pursuits?? No way! I made plenty of mistakes. I got caught up in silly things. I was sometimes very selfish. Still, at the end of these past years, I could look back and say that I had done something right, and that was what mattered to me.

As I contemplated what I wanted my focus to be in 2015, I came across a post on Facebook from President Thomas S. Monson that said:

“At the advent of a new year, I challenge Latter-day Saints everywhere to undertake a personal, diligent, significant quest for what I call the abundant life—a life filled with an abundance of success, goodness, and blessings. Just as we learned the ABCs in school, I offer my own ABCs to help us all gain the abundant life.

A in my ABCs refers to attitude.

B is for believe—in yourself, in those around you, and in eternal principles.

C is for courage. Courage becomes a worthwhile and meaningful virtue when it is regarded not so much as a willingness to die manfully but as a determination to live decently."

...and it got me thinking. The abundant life, as he describes it, is a great thing to strive for and I decided that would be my 2015 focus. So I wrote his ABC's on the whiteboard I keep in my room. And as I stood there, dry erase marker in hand, I found that the rest of the ABC's came to me with ease. I almost didn't think about it as I jotted them down, knowing that the things I was adding to my list would aid me in achieving the abundant life.

So, I share my 2015 Abundant Life Alphabet with you now. Pick and choose from it as you like. Take it or leave it in it's entirety if that is what suits your needs, but these are the things I feel to be important for me in the coming year: 

A- Attitude

B- Believe--in yourself, in others and in eternal principles

C- Courage-- to live decently

D- Dedication-- to the things you know to be right, to your health, to your family and to your friends

E- Embrace the experiences that you have

F- Faith that good things are going to happen in 2015

G- Grateful in any circumstance (Read President Uchtdorf's talk on this here)

H- Humility and trust in the Lord and His timing

I- Increase your income

J- Joy in the journey--it's all about enjoying the small things in life

K- Kindness matters (Thanks to John Dillon for frequently reminding me of this!)

L- Live a life worth emulating. Love much. Laugh often.

M- Make a difference in the lives of the people around you 

N- Never give up!

O- Overcome insecurity and open yourself up to life's possibilities.

P- Perspective-- keep it positive, keep it eternal

Q- Quality time with the people who are important to you

R- Record your heritage

S-Spend less. Save more. Life is better when it is Simple

T- Time for Travel. It's fun and it creates worthwhile memories

U- Use your talents to leave the people, places and things you come into contact with a little better

V- Virtue-- it is important to have high moral standards

W- Wants--keep them reasonable

X- Cut gossip, vanity and selfishness from your life (I know, cut doesn't start with an x, but let's get real here...what legitimate word in my vocabulary does?!?)

Y- YOLO! Cheesy, I know. But it's true. Make this year worth remembering!

Z- Zest for adventure

This certainly isn't an exhaustive list, and even as I was writing I thought of things I could add, but I hope this helps you as you decide what your resolutions will be in the coming year. Most of all, I hope that this year is filled with an abundance of goodness, success and blessings, because we all need more of that in our lives.

Wishing you a happy, safe, and wonderful 2015! 

The Grand Canyon Escalade

There's a never ending battle between progress and preservation and it can be difficult to know which side of the battle is the right side of the battle. Like a tight rope walker suspended in air with nothing but a wire and my own balance to keep me there, I often find myself rocking back and forth as I try to find the balance. I mean, let's get real here- there are some aspects of progress and development for which I am incredibly thankful. Can you say indoor plumbing and electricity? As much as I am an outdoor enthusiast and love to spend time camping, I am ALWAYS thankful for the opportunity to take a nice hot shower at the end of a camp out. And anyone who has ever had to take care of business in the questionable conditions of some outhouses is likely to sing the praises of a flushing toilet!

But here's the thing...as mentioned in the previous paragraph, I am an outdoor enthusiast. I love camping and hiking in the back country. I grew up outside and I enjoy being able to be in the solitude of nature. I feel such a sense of accomplishment when I spend a weekend carrying everything I need to survive in a pack on my back. I know, it's not for everyone, but there is a group that it is for. I belong to that group.

In addition to spending my leisure time out in the back country, as many of you know, I spend my summers working in the Grand Canyon. In my humble opinion, the Grand Canyon really is the last "Great Unkonwn" of civilized America. Even with all the exploration that has been done, the maps that have been created and the goal of bringing the Grand Canyon into the "civilized" world (you can now explore the entire length of the main river corridor via Google maps) the Grand Canyon has been able to maintain its air of pristine isolation. Cell phones don't work in the canyon. Neither do computers. A vacation to the bottom of the Grand Canyon is still about getting back to basics, living in the moment, enjoying nature and reconnecting to the more primal side of life.

Grand Canyon National Park itself boasts just over 1900 square miles. Add in the surrounding undeveloped areas in the form of National Recreation Areas and tribal land and that number increases. It's the type of place where a lifetime of exploration can be spent without ever truly seeing all that it has to offer. It is a place where you can go to reconnect--with nature, with your family, with yourself. It is a place where all that matters is the here and now. It is a refuge for the spirited adventurer, yet still accessible to the masses by way of a commercially guided trip. (And for my money, that sounds pretty well balanced as it is!)

And now, the point of all my ramblings up till now: A new development threatens the unique solitude that is Grand Canyon. Proposed at the confluence of the Little Colorado River (LCR) and the Colorado River itself is a project called The Grand Canyon Escalade.

The Grand Canyon Escalade is basically a tram ride (similar to the Palm Springs Ariel Tramway) that would take passengers from the rim to the bottom of the Grand Canyon at the confluence of the LCR and the Colorado River. In conjunction with the tram, there is a proposed amphitheater, shopping experience, and restaurant. Oh, and did I mention the hotel that will be going in during the future expansion stage?

Just the thought of what something like this will do the Grand Canyon breaks my heart. Allowing this to happen would be a disservice to all who come to the Grand Canyon seeking adventure and solitude. There are countless places where one can take in a show, have dinner and do some shopping, but the number of places where one can go to truly experience the peace of seclusion is rapidly declining.

I certainly don’t consider myself a conservationist, but I do think there are times when it is important to protect what we have. So I'm asking you this. Will you take a stand? Will you let your voice be heard on this matter? Educate yourself and make your decision. I know that I have made mine. If you would like, I encourage you to join with me in signing this petition to stop the escalade. If it hadn't been for the opposition of people just like us, we would have lost the Grand Canyon back in the 1950's and 60's to the Marble Canyon Dam and the Bridge Canyon Dam. But the voice of America prevailed and preserved one of the world's great natural wonders.

I could go on and on about the Grand Canyon, but instead, I will leave it to President Theodore Roosevelt, who in 1903 stated about the Grand Canyon, "Leave it as it is. You cannot improve upon it, and man can only mar it. What you can do is keep it for your children, and for all who come after you, as the one great sight which every American...should see." (and we don’t need a tram to be able to see it!)

It's the age old battle-progress or preservation. No matter what you decide on this one, shouldn't you at least have an opinion?

Looking up the LCR from the confluence

Looking into the confluence from the the LCR

I Have a Tip For You...

Unless I ask, please, as my server, don't tell me how much to tip you!

I get it. Serving at a restaurant can be tough. People ignore you in favor of their cell phones, they are disrespectful, they treat you as though you are less than human and like they are somehow better than you. It baffles me as well. Therefore, I understand the urge to stick it to your patrons, but, at least as far as my money is concerned, it's REALLY not the best way to get good tips!

Tonight my mom and I went out to dinner. When we were seated our server came to take our drink order. I don't drink soda and my mom doesn't drink caffeine after lunch because it keeps her from sleeping. As a result, we both ordered water to drink. (Boring, I know, but read the vibe of your table, man. If, after several times of you asking I haven't flinched on the fact that I want water, please, quit trying to upsell my beverage choice!)

Our meal arrived and we shared a very enjoyable dinner. It tasted great and we had fun chatting while we ate. As we were finishing up, I ordered a dessert to go. I don't often order dessert when I am out, but tonight was a fun night with my mom so it seemed like a good idea. When our server returned with our dessert and our to go boxes (cause let's face it, there was no hope of me ever finishing the amount of food on my plate) he dropped off our check. I put the $25 gift card we had in the check binder as well as my debit card to cover the small remaining balance. Our server left to run the cards. Now, this is where the night gets frustrating for me. When our server returned to the table with the receipt for me to sign he had circled suggested tip amounts on the receipt. I was so insulted! Do I really come across as the type of person who is an incompetent tipper? And even if I do, how do you justify such arrogance in yourself as to tell me how much I should be tipping you??

Now, allow me to share a little of my own personal arrogance--because of the work I do, I tend to be a great tipper. I understand that tips play a huge role in the income of certain jobs and I do my best to take care of my fellow service industry workers. I also understand how a good tip can make a bad day good, and a good day great. I love being able to put a smile on someone's face in such a way. One of my favorite things to do when I have a gift card is to leave the entire amount of the gift card as a cash tip, because I was going to pay for my meal when I decided to go out anyway. It's just a fun thing to do! But I'll tell you, the second I saw those tip amounts circled on my receipt to call my attention to the "appropriate" amount for me to tip, the amount I had been planning to leave was significantly reduced. I really only left what I did because I know that as a server, you are required to tip out to the other people who assist with your tables- the bartender, the busboy, etc.- and those people were fantastic as far as my table went tonight.

So while I understand the temptation to leave a "subtle" reminder for those you serve, especially if you have been stiffed a time or two, I beg of you, don't do it. Keep the beverages full, a smile on your face and be good at what you do. You will be rewarded for it.

Weighing In: My thoughts on the Cliven Bundy situation

Imagine that you are living in a house that was built by your ancestors. You love this house. It is a piece of who you are, your heritage. It's a beautiful, one of a kind house, well suited to the needs of your family and the lifestyle you intend to live. It has been in your family for just under 150 years, passed down within the statutes of the law, from generation to generation. Each generation has maintained and cared for the house to the greatest of their ability.

One day, a team comes to your house and informs you they are now in charge of managing your house. There are a lot of people on the team. They are powerful and influential, and in an attempt to keep the peace, you agree to let them become a part of your life and have occasional access granted to your home. (I mean, you're not unreasonable, and your mother did teach you to share with others.)

Then, one day, this team shows up at your house and tells you that they are changing the scope of their management practices regarding your house, whether you like it or not. You are now going to be confined to living in only a portion of the house and the rest of the house will be given to some cats. Yep, I said cats. Naturally, you resist. Surely the management team can't just decide that you no longer have access to a portion of your house? Regardless of your resistance, the cats move in and you share your space. Still, you're not willing to give up without a fight. You begin seeking the help of legal council, you go to court, you do everything in your power to stop the management team from coming in and destroying your way of life and taking your home.

Finally, a court order is issued. It's not in your favor. The management team is coming in to take your home. Supposedly, their action is to protect the cats living in your house, but the same group that is taking your house for the cats is also down the road killing cats because they just can't afford to support them. What is your reaction to the situation? How do you respond to the management agency when they arrive at your home?

I'll give you a minute to think about it...

Now, I realize this isn't a direct translation of events as they are unfolding in Nevada. It would be impossible for me to create a scenario that incorporates all the different facets of the situation, but I believe it hits the highlights. I've thought a lot about this situation over the past several weeks and this is my take on it.

The Cliven Bundy family settled in the Bunkerville, Nevada area in the late 1800's. They established a ranching lifestyle and passed it down from one generation to the next. In 1946 the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) was established and began assisting with the management of public lands-already in use by a family that had arrived approximately 70 years earlier. Then, in 1993, this same management organization (the BLM) comes in and informs the Cliven Bundy family that they are no longer allowed to use the land because it is a habitat for the vulnerable (not yet endangered) desert tortoise. Never mind that the cattle and the tortoise have been sharing the land for the past 120 years without causing the extinction of the species? Never mind that this family's livelihood was tied up in the land? Never mind that just down the road in Henderson, Nevada, the same government forcing Cliven off his land for the desert tortoise was also planning to euthanize hundreds of the same species due to lack of funding? He was just to succumb to the will of the government and walk away? Wouldn't you resist, if it was your way of life at stake?

So now an unarmed family is being beaten and attacked. They have sniper rifles trained on them and when they tried to question the BLM about their belief that the BLM had begun shooting and disposing of the cattle on the range land, one of the BLM officers grabbed a 57 year old woman and threw her to the ground. Oh, and heaven forbid you should try to help that woman up or come to her defense, because that gets you hit multiple times with a taser, or at the very least, a threat of German shepherd attack dogs and "you'll be next".

I'm fairly certain that this is bigger than cattle and range land. The government must stand to gain A LOT over this, because if they don't, I can't imagine them fighting this intensely. I think it's safe to say that the government may have forgotten that they work for the people of the United States, and not the other way around. Whether you side with Cliven Bundy or not, the actions of the BLM, on site in Nevada, are inexcusable.

Now, for the disclaimer: Yes. I am a Bundy. I am related to Cliven, somewhere down the line. I believe my great, great grandfather is his great grandfather? Someone with better genealogy skills than mine can verify. I'm not claiming 100% innocence for either side of this situation-- such a thing rarely exists, but the BLM, the federal government, definitely crossed a line on this one. At least that's how the view looks from where I sit. Please, keep any posted comments clean and orderly. You are entitled to your opinions as I am entitled to mine. Discussion is one thing, but blatant disrespect for me or anyone else that may post here is not acceptable.

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.