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.