Down the River

Last weekend was the annual Adrian and Allison’s Moab River Rafting trip. You should come next year, because I hear Adrian and Allison are pretty fantastic. The trip came on a weekend when I really needed to get away, so it was perfect. More than perfect. You now what I loved about it?

God works miracles. And sometimes it takes a trip down a river and a good look around to understand that. I like recognizing him that way – because more often that recognition comes in the form of “humility” experiences like a broken heart. I have that – it is awesome. The world is so beautiful. When I’m outside – away from the cubicle and life, I just feel so good. Because the world is good. Even when some of the experiences aren’t.

Adventure. I love trying new things. I love learning and growing and pushing myself. It just makes me feel excellent. I need those moments of sitting still and watching a good movie (my present activity), but sometimes I just want to get out and accomplish things. It’s good for you.

Friends. Spending time with people I care about and new people who I can learn from – this might be the best part of all. I like it when people laugh. I like those people who make you feel better about yourself when you’re around them. I like real people – not anyone who’s trying to be what you want them to be. Take you for your good, take you for your not-so-much, because they have both of those sides as well. You don’t have to be perfect for these people – no glass to walk on. They accept everything about you. I like these people.

That’s not all I loved, but that’s the gist of it. I’m so fortunate to have moments like Moab. I loved it!

Freedom to Play

I met an elderly gentleman a few weeks ago during a work interview. He is a man of incredible guts and substance. One of the original eight frogmen (they weren’t even called frogmen in WWII when he served, he and his comrades made them all that they are), they were the guys who would swim miles at a time ins the ocean to scope out an area before the whole navy set in for the kill. They have an important job – vitally important.

As he told me the story about his adventures in the water, he went between laughter and tears – still remembering those events better than he does what he had for lunch.

I don’t see myself as particularly patriotic. In fact, when I was in college and heard that “Oh, say can you see…” before the a.m. classes, I thought more than once about just walking right on through it with the pretense of not hearing it.

The change occurred my senior year. The girl who spent high school games turned the wrong direction talking to the crowd suddenly found herself at every sporting event as an intern in the athletics department at BYU. I started at, “this is a defense, this is an offense,” and kept right on through digs, dunks and the defensive line. And that Star-Spangled Banner. Before the game, the crowd stands. Silence. And then those words. It’s just … I can’t explain it.

This country is about dreams and the opportunity that any person has to fulfill theirs. It’s about freedom to be and to do and to have enough to share. Freedom to hit a baseball – whether girl or boy, regardless of where you grew up. To speak and to pray. The freedoms that people like my pre-frogman friend give their lives to protect. I hope someday to be an eighth of the person he has been.

He was the only one of his original team that finished that war. The only one. He took two bullets, each time returning to the water two weeks later because there was no one else to do his job. Without people like him, we would have a devastatingly different sort of life. From Columbus to Washington to today, God blesses America. And I’m so grateful for this land that I truly love.

Why I tri...

Today I did a triathlon. It was hard and awesome at the same time. Everything did not go smoothly. I blew a tire on my road bike before the race, the spare didn’t fit, it stressed me out. Luckily, my mom’s Diamondback was nearby. Not everyone has an extra bike. The swim was cold, the bike was heavy and the run was the best of my life by a long shot (just over an eight-minute mile … I wanted it bad).

I signed up for my first triathlon last year just two days after the whole “breaking up with the first love” experience as something to replace those dismal days that came along with it. It's true what they say about not making big decisions during ultra emotional periods of life. But I’m so glad I did. I’ll take sweat over tears any day. Not that it took away the pain, it just retrained my focus.

I’ve continued because I still need that release. This life is not an easy one, but when I cross that finish line, I know I can overcome it. I know that I can destroy my demons, I can overcome myself – I can do whatever it is I’m asked to do in this life. It may sound like I’m being a little dramatic, but all I’m saying is conquering the mind is imperative in order to accomplish the triathlon, just as it is in the daily routine.

God is a big part of my life, and my ability to overcome the trials of the day comes from Him. As odd as it may sound, He’s close by on every run, every bike, every swim, every race. I have learned more about His love and my love for Him through those races I thought I couldn’t finish and those trials I thought weren’t fair. He’s there.

So maybe I’m slow. Everybody does this life differently; every racer has a different pace. Honestly, I’m competing against only me (unless the girl in front of me is wearing a thong or the guy is 65 – TOAST.) I’m just so grateful to be healthy, to be loved, and to know that, at the end of the day, it works out. Thank goodness.

Like Playing with Barbies

“Adrian,” she said very calmly and grown-upedly. “Be sure you do not light the gas on fire, because gas gets on fire very easily and when it does it’s BAD. Just make sure.”

I assured her that I would do just that and got out of the car to spend $27.31 (Darn one number beyond what I wanted it to be) to fill up for the drive home. She is my niece. One of seven nieces and nephews my fantastic sisters have provided. I love her and her cousins more than almost anything else in the world. She’s very serious. Very matter-of-fact. “I don’t know a lot of things, so I have to ask some questions sometimes,” she says. I like her questions. They’re simple. “Why is that G on the mountain?” “Why don’t you get gas at Costco?” “Can we walk to the swimming pool, or should I have brought my bike?” All very good questions.

My only concern is five seems much too young to have the stress she carries. I don’t want her to worry about anything but dressing barbies for the party and jumping on the trampoline. I don’t want her to be concerned about how she’s going to get from one place to the next. I don’t want her to be grown-up, because I am, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

I want her to savor the days when the only tears were caused by bike crashes and time outs. I want her to feel the blessing of knowing that everywhere she turns there’s someone who wants to hug her and thinks she’s the most fantastic little girl ever. I want her to stick with that “I am awesome” childhood mentality just a while longer.

And honestly, I want to be in her place. Sure driving a car is pretty exhilarating, going to college was fabulous, spending my own money on what I want is nice. But my goodness, did I really know life was going to be so dang hard some days? Did I know I was going to feel lost at times, even though I’ve done all I could think of to keep the light intact? Did I know I was going to fall in love once, and it wouldn’t be that fairytale Walt and crew lied to me about? Probably. It still sucks.

Yes – I know. My life is pretty good, considering the alternatives. But I do wish I’d lived more fully the awesome moments of the past instead of always running so fast to the next step. This stage is not my favorite. But I sure was in a hurry to get here. Elder Uchtdorf said,” We don’t acquire eternal life in a sprint – this is a race of endurance.” That slow-paced concept – that’s a good idea. How does one go about it? I haven’t quite figured it out.

What I do know is that I hope I can help my niece overcome the desire to be grown up. I hope I can be a good example of what “grown up” is because I know she’s watching. And I really just wish I were five today.

Special

I met this girl named Jessica today. With reckless abandon for all things socially acceptable, she walked up to me, yelled “hey!” and gave me an encompassing hug. I needed that hug and I think maybe somehow she knew that. We conversed like we’d known each other for years. She goes to the same high school I went to. She is just so darn nice.

She was a competitor, I, a volunteer, at the Special Olympics in Provo. This basically means I was a designated clapper/cheerer for the athletes. That’s the easiest job I’ve had all week. Most rewarding too. The athletes never told me I wasn’t a very talented clapper or made me feel sub-par or annoying. They looked me straight in the eye and smiled like they meant it. One guy was dancing, one guy repeatedly shook my hand and made me feel welcome.

Abraham Lincoln once hypothesized that there’s no unselfish deed. I think the concept was, even if you’re doing something for someone else, you know you’ll benefit in someway. So, it’s not selfless. I’ve thought about that on several occasions. And I think it has truth, particularly in this case. To me, the task is to find the unselfish deed, and in the process do a lot of good things for other people.

I went thinking, “Oh, I’m going to help,” (and, in truth, “Oh, I have other things I could do today”), and I had more fun than I’ve had in recent memory. I felt lighter, better, like I’ve done something that meant something. Not because I love helping special needs kids. Let’s be honest, that’s not my strongest character trait. But because I learned from them to just have fun. To love whomever, whenever. To retrain the focus from things I can’t change to the great life I have.

Mark Twain said, “Let us so live that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry.” I want to be that. It is a war within me to combat the temptation to be the natural person who only thinks about herself. “The natural man is an enemy to God…” and selfishness thoroughly fits that bill. My needs. My pain. My agenda. At the close of mortality, we’ve lost this life test if that’s the focus we’ve maintained. Today, those things didn’t matter. It felt good. It felt right.

I am ...

So, this blog thing … I love to write so I thought maybe it would be for me. I’m not a real big fan of talking about myself, and I’m only me, so, I’m not sharing this blog with many people. In fact, I don’t know that a soul will read it. But I think it will be a good release.

I’m not like everyone else. I run funny, I don’t think like other people do and I certainly don’t fit the mold for how normal people act. That’s ok. Who decided normal?

I am 24. I don’t feel all grown up like you’re supposedly supposed to be at such an age. I graduated from college 2.5 years ago, and I miss it. Hopefully I’ll be back to the books in the near future. I have a good job in public relations. It’s never boring – sometimes I write a speech, sometimes I plan an event for all of the employees, sometimes I create a newsletter. The job is solid, but at 5 p.m. I am ready to get the heck out of there because…

I am an endorphins addict. I took up triathlons a year ago, but before that it was half marathons. Before that it was shorter races. I’m slow. And I run funny. But, you know, I love it. My workout partner is my dad, and I love the relationship we’ve developed while running, biking, swimming, etc. Exercise keeps me sane.

The church scene is a big part of my life. I believe it. I love it. God and I have our disagreements, but He wins every time. If you’re reading, stop now if you don’t want to hear about this gospel thing because it makes me me.

I’m happy most of the time, but I fight every moment for it because it’s lost in an instant if I let it go. I try to think about others, that keeps me from thinking about the things that are tough. There has been a lot of “tough” lately. But again, I’m fighting.

I love my nieces and nephews, listening to the rain, watching the sunset and the smell of laundry. I’m me.