almost done, hun.

This Sunday will mark my longest run in my training for the Portland Marathon. 20 miles. Let me remind you that my runs do not necessarily mean I run the entire time...I'm simply running as much as I can and then doing my best to imitate a speed-walker otherwise...hip swing and all!

Initially, I wanted to complete the marathon course within 6 hours' time but now that I've done a few long run/walks, I'm thinking that unless I have a burst of intense energy and stamina, that goal is not going to work for me. I'm thinking, after some calculation and personal speculation, that while I may get close to my 6 hour goal, I think 6 1/2  hours might be more realistic. I can run a sub 11 mile on a continuous basis, but once I get tired of running, my speed walk brings me to a sub 14 mile pace...and once I'm tired of speed walking, I'm reduced to a normal walk of around 15 min. miles. If I walked the entire course at 15 min/mile pace, I'll finish before the 7 hour mark...which is good to think about. At least I can tell Bobby that I should be no later than 2pm before we can head home! (poor guy...I feel bad for him...waiting around for his slow wife to finish a race that will cause her to complain probably the whole way home...)

I'm glad I know this now...I'd feel really silly if I went into this race thinking I'd finish like a speed demon. But then again, who knows? Adrenaline from other runners and matching their paces may bring me to a faster finish...I've heard that it happens.

I had a chance to chat with Kathi, the lovely lady who has helped me along with my training plan and little tidbits of support via emails and atta girls at the office. I let her know I was coming up on my long run and she mentioned that she would have loved to run part of that with me if she were only in town. This thought felt weird to me, having someone run with me, because I think throughout this time of training I might have only been able to share maybe 6 miles with someone. Starting this spring, I've covered nearly 700 miles...alone. This may sound kinda sad, but there's been a great many miles of clarity and reflection, prayer time and some 'aha!' moments so I'm not bummed. It sure made things difficult when I wanted to go hang out with friends or sleep in because I didn't have an accountability buddy. Sometimes friends and/or sleep won out but I'm happy to say it didn't happen too often.

All this to say, I'm anxious, excited, scared...and I cannot wait to have that Portland Marathon shirt and medal....oh, and the tree sapling, of course!

postcards

It was the summer of 2000. I was on my way to YoungLife's week long camp called Malibu. Though I had heard many stories regarding what I would anticipate during the week, the resounding phrase was, "It will be the best week of your life." Lo and behold, 11 years and a marriage later, it's still been ''the best week of my life'' (sorry, Bobby).

Let me explain. This week away wasn't just an experience. It was life changing! I grew closer with a few gals from my school, I was loved on by Cheryl, Molly and Tria (our leaders), I experienced adrenaline pumping adventures like never before and most importantly, I found Jesus. I don't mean "I found Jesus" as though he was hiding in the bushes somewhere...but what I mean is, I was stripped away from all that was distracting and planted right in the middle of one of the most gorgeous places on this planet. Here, I not only saw the beauty that is God all around me, but I felt it from my leaders, friends, and even the camp work crew and staff who didn't even know me but worked tirelessly so that I would "have the best week of my life". "Who is this God that is such awesomeness?" I was amazed, encouraged, and ultimately completely enveloped in and by the love that was shown to me that I could no longer deny this God. I wanted that relationship that I was being told about. I wanted that 'something more' that would fulfill the longings and desires of my heart. I wanted to know God.

So I left camp on what's called a 'camp high'. I felt on top of the world even though I had been warned that the real world may come crashing back at me...and it did. But not before I had the opportunity to solidify relationships with my leaders and the friends who came along and who ultimately would serve as my mentors and who took great pride in discipleship.

On the bus ride home, I remember filling out a post card to an anonymous donor. Those who gave money to make "the best week of my life" possible. I don't remember what I wrote but I'm sure it said something to the effect of finding Jesus and 'thank you' for 'the best week of my life'.

I went on to lead high schoolers through the same experience, adrenaline pumping craziness and post card writing for the next 10 years. It was during this time that my faith grew the most. Contrary to popular belief, teens are awesome and no matter how punkish they can be, there's so much to them and so much that they go through that I feel they've blessed me more than I ever could them during our time together. I've watched some from middle school all the way through college and on to marriage and building a God centered family. I've watched some follow their calling and dive right into the missions field and I've watched some follow in our footsteps and become YL leaders themselves. What joy!

Then last year, I decided to take an unknown amount of time off from leading. The biggest reason is my marriage. I didn't know how I was going to work full time and lead YL and still have enough quality time left in my day for my new husband. Initially, I thought I'd only take one year off, but now, with September right around the corner, I don't feel God telling me that YL is where I need to put my energy right now. That said, I made sure I wasn't too far from my fellow Younglifers by opting to give part of my monthly tithe to them and to participate in as many functions and fundraisers as I can. This summer, like every summer, donors received a post card. I was sent a postcard. It was from a girl I know from Medical Lake who had ''the best week of her life'' at Malibu. Because of my giving to the very organization that changed my life years ago, I have been given the best gift...this post card. It's almost as though I was given the post card I had written so long ago.


I went from camper to leader to financial giver and I'm stoked to be able to say that I've been involved with YL in such ways that I've written, enabled others to write, and ultimately received  that meaningful post card.

What went around, came around.
Thank You, God.

dreaming dreams

"We do not want to merely “see” beauty–though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words–to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

~C.S. Lewis

Bobby and I got the chance to spend this last weekend out at the Stitt's cabin for Tyler's birthday. One morning, while everyone else was still in deep slumber, I found myself wide awake and ready to get the day going. Unfortunately it was only 6:30am and I knew I had a good 2 hours before anyone else would be alive so I had to find something to occupy my brain. I chose to dream up some dreams. 

The Portland Marathon is a little less than 2 months away. Completing this race/run has been the one solid goal I've had since last winter and here I am, less than 60 days from the finish! This made me think about more goals and things I'd like to accomplish/see/experience in the upcoming months. I dreamed about Italy and how Bobby and I have always talked about going there someday. Because I have the opportunity to witness friends with their little ones, I know it would be best to get a trip like this out of the way before little ones of our own come along. Could this be done within the next 6-8 months? How awesome would that be?! Then my mind covered the idea of buying our first home. We've discussed a bit of a timeline and right now, we're hoping to find our home within the next year, possibly late spring-early summer of 2012. Ah...all those ideas from Etsy and Pinterest, Better Homes and Gardens and Martha Stewarts' Living magazines may finally be put to good use! Veggie garden...art room/office...a dog first and hopefully soon thereafter a little quarter asian of our own! ...oh to live the dream!

 Only about 20 minutes worth of dreaming passed when Bobby stirred...I promptly started attacking him with little pokes and "Hey, wakey wakey!" and, "I'm bored...WAKE UP!". He did...but we both just laid there. A few minutes of silence went by and still in my dreamy state I asked, "What are you thinking about?" hoping for an equally dreamy response.

"Stargate." he replies.

Sigh.... "You're such a nerd."

Later that evening I had an advisory board meeting at the Porch. Pastor Dave spoke of Haiti and his dreams for the people of the Porch to come together to support the small town of Godin either financially, prayerfully, physically or all three! If you've asked me lately what a prayer request of mine would be, it would have to do with Haiti. For the last few months, since Justin, pastor of Kaleo Church in Otis Orchards came to our church to speak about Haiti, I've been struck with the thought of being a hands-on person. I've always wanted to 'do a mission trip' but I've always been leery about big organizations and what seemed to me to be a temporary fix, or, band-aid for an area in need. The difference that I see with Dave and Justin and those involved in Godin is that the work being done is to aid in the building of a self-sufficient economy. There are many details to how this is being done and it seems to me that it's more of a "teach a man to fish" kind of thing rather than, "give a man a fish"...which I believe is the better way to go about things. Since 2002, Dave and Justin and a few of their buddies have built actual relationships with the people of Godin and I feel God has put it on my heart to be a part of that somehow. 

So as I laid down to bed that night, I revisited all the dreams I dreamed that day and it hit me that I could have a potentially life changing year coming up and I am super excited! For so long I've watched my friends go on trips, missions, excursions...build homes, businesses and families...and I'm excited and hopeful that our next year will prove fruitful in every way possible.

been away too long

I completed a 5 mile run last night. period. I say it like this because this is one of only a few runs thus far that did not result in some sort of funny/interesting story. Although I do have to say that I chose a beautiful time of the evening to head out (7pm) and an equally beautiful route through Riverfront Park on up to INDABA where the hubs was pulling a late nighter. I also got the chance to run into Rachel, however, and two very flamboyant men with the cutest little Corgy dog that "loves women" they say.

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So here's the deal:
I've found myself crazy-busy (but not too crazy to run my miles...or most of them anyway) and at the same time out of ideas and motivation to write on this here blog...it wasn't until Nikki told me she missed my blogs that I thought, "Hey-that means they're being read! Woot!" So here I am, with a little help from my friends.

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I have a confession...wait, it's more like a frustration...from someone (me) who is at her wits end. If you read what I have to say in the next few sentences and you for some reason decide NOT to agree with me then I'd say you are part of the problem and not part of my solution and you are NOT being helpful to me in any way, shape or form especially if you try to tell me that I'm my worst critic. okay? okay. Deep breath, here goes...
However you may feel comfortable saying it, I am fat, chubby, "Big boned"(my mom's nice way of saying it), healthy (in a size 16 kind of way), Obese (according to any BMI or Weight Watchers scale) and waaaay over it. Now is not the time for you to try to make me feel better about myself because I have a great self esteem and I know that my weight doesn't define me and it surely doesn't slow me down...I just know what I know and I know how to fix it but if I'm surrounded by folks who tell me that I look no different now than I did 2 years ago, I get annoyed...because they're lying.

Here's a bit of history.
I've been 'chubby' all my life. Not chubby enough to be consistently teased...but when people needed to find a reason to be mean to me, that was the most common route taken. My mom always eased the pain by saying "you're not fat, just big boned" and she'd proceed to pile on the mac n' cheese. But in high school, I thinned out enough to be 'ok' to be seen in a short cheerleading uniform and I was praised for not having 'cottage cheese' legs. Then, a few years out of high school I landed a great desk job (same one I have now) which means I sit. Alot. And I gain.

3 1/2 years ago, I joined Weight Watchers and in the course of 6 months and with a lot of help from some super fit friends who comitted to workout at the gym with me during the wee hours of the morning at least 4 times a week, I lost 30 lbs. This was also combined with friends (like Bubbs) who jumped at the chance to support me by helping me make good choices because it also benefitted her and her 'get fit' goals. I felt awesome, I looked great in my own eyes (which not many women will ever be able to say about themselves) and I was healthy in a size 10-12 kind of way. I had no real desire to go any further with my weight loss but maybe toning up a bit and squeeze into a size 8 would have been nice.

But then life happened.

Many elements contributed to the eventual regaining of said 30 lbs and that's where I have been since about November of 2010. Things like stress, changing gyms which took me away from my fit friends because I found a gym closer and cheaper, dropping weight watchers because I needed to pinch pennies and create time in my days for my wedding, dropping out of TriFusion because I could no longer afford that kind of active lifestyle and it was taking a toll on my ego, the addition of birth control and it's tendencies to pour on extra poundage, the addition of heart medication that makes it hard to do any kind of physically strenuous activity for too long, giving myself the 'ok' to eat the entire meal when we go out or to go back for seconds (a big 'no-no' in weight watchers), just being married...oh and much, much more.

At the beginning of this year, I decided I needed to have a goal: to train for and complete the Portland Marathon on October 9th. The goal was not weight loss focused but weight loss was to be the icing on the cake. The problem? I'm now 2 months away from the race and logging 30+ miles per week and not one single pound has been lost. Frustrating? Oh hell yes. We're talking approximately 1 1/2 hours a day, at least 4 days a week of exercise and NOTHING. It's disheartening, really, and I'm at a loss.

Just recently, I had to break down and buy new, larger scrub pants for work because my old ones from 2 years ago no longer fit. I know I do not fit into my jeans anymore and all I wear are loose, cotton clothes because I'm tired of feeling confined and like I'm bulging at the seams. And I'm not being 'too hard' on myself...I'm being real with myself. I owe it to me to figure out what to do next. I'm worth the work and I'm sad that I let myself get back to where I was when I first started WW. But it doesn't mean I can't get back there. It took me 6 months last time and it was a lot of hard work and hard decisions; alot of hard conversations and reality checks. I know I can do it again so what is stopping me?
Every time I see a picture of myself I cringe...the latest? I did you a favor an posted it for you below!

It's a bit difficult to see, but if you check out my gut flopping around under and out of my shirt, you'd understand the negative attitude. I am a bit embarrassed but not enough to not post this...because it is yet another reality check.

So it is about time to start a new goal:
'BACK TO BUFF ME'. One may wonder what that means? Well, I've done yet another favor and posted 2 pictures of what I was like at the peak of my fitness/weightloss before the steady downfall.

 Oh yes, look at those guns! Aaaand I'm pretty proud that my tummy, though still 'thick', is flat!

This suit? I don't even want to try to get into it...I KNOW it doesn't fit anymore! But look! No bulging skin!







Now for the plan:

Well, that's not totally true. I have ideas...just which route should I go? More thoughts to come...

God would want a front porch

Last night I had a chance to walk the West Central neighborhood with about 20 folks and kiddos from the Porch, Branches and New Community (local churches). Together we answered questions and reflected on the lifestyle, stereotypes and vision for the area. It is common knowledge that West Central is the poorest neighborhood in the city...in fact, last I heard, the stats were that it was the poorest in the state! But as I walked, I paid particular attention to one thing (of many) that was strikingly different than many upper-class neighborhoods...the presence (and the actual use of) a front porch.

One of the children that attended the walk last night was asked by his dad what they thought was different from what they see in their neighborhoods. His response was, "The houses are rusty and they have couches on the front porch...Why are there couches on the front porch?" I grinned because I had an idea....but his dad didn't quite grasp it. Saying something similar to the idea that couches were supposed to be indoors.

My involvement at the Porch constantly makes me wonder what it is I am to be learning. Why do I attend a church in one of the toughest, poorest neighborhoods in the state? Why do I feel more at home when I'm there than when I'm with friends and family located in more socially acceptable and visually appealing 'hoods? Where the primary concern is where the next meal is coming from or how the heck a single mother will get her laundry done when it takes 2 bus rides to get to the nearest laundry mat? I'll tell you one thing that I am learning and absolutely loving: Community. Walking those streets, I saw community. People, regardless of their race, religion, social or economic status, are together...and many of them on their porches.

What is important? To me? To us? To God?
For me, I think it's the front porch and I have a feeling God likes the idea too.

skip more

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things.... I play with leaves.  I skip down the street and run against the wind.  I never water my garden without soaking myself.  ~Leo F. Buscaglia, Bus 9 to Paradise


I think skipping could be the answer to many of our adult health problems.  ~Jeanne, as posted on iskip.com


If you've lost your enthusiasm, there's no better place to find it than on a skipping excursion.  And, you might just find your lost youth as well!  ~Jessi Lane Adams


I found myself skipping down the middle of my street yesterday and in an instant, I was giddy as a little kid. Of course there were other people around me...and wouldn't you know they looked at me like I was an idiot. An idiot they loved, but still an idiot. So the question arose...
"Why not skip?" 


The feelings I felt brought up a fond memory of mine. I used to be a greeter (don't laugh) at a local casino (of course I did other things! don't be silly) and I used to work closely with the security guards that would stand at each entrance. One in particular, Richard...aka Dick (yes, it's worth mentioning that I am/was slightly immature at that time and found it hard to call him by his preferred name...I still don't understand why anyone would do that). Dick was a 70+ yr. old, quick-as-a-whip man that always had a fun/funny story to tell. Honestly, the relationship I had with him was very similar to a grandpa/granddaughter...he looked after me and I looked up to him...not always for advice though because he more often than not, he had something feisty to say that would most likely get me in trouble. 


One day, I found Dick to be standing at the south end of the building and particularly moody. His chatter was cut a bit short and the light was lost from his face. When I inquired as to the problem, "What's with the long face?" a grumbly grouchy answer is what I got (I don't recall the details of his issue...but I think it was something to do with his boss...this was usually the case) I don't like to brag about myself but to this day, I am still impressed with my own actions...
At this time in the building of this casino, there were revolving glass doors on the south end of the building. We'd often find multiple people twirling round and round in them, eventually spitting themselves out with enormous smiles on their faces. Remembering this, a light bulb went on in my head. I casually walked over to the doors, knowing that Dick's curious eyes were following me. I threw myself at the doors with gusto and round and round I went. I didn't realize at the time what this would do to my mood but I was elated! Who'd have thought that revolving doors would give you the giddies? So I marched up to Dick and presented a challenge..."your turn". 
"What?! I'm not going through those doors!", he snorted.
"Sure you are! It'll brighten your mood, I guarantee it!" I said.
By this time, his face lit up a little. You could tell that he was debating... keep his cool card or do what he thinks would be funny. So I pressured him. 
"DO IT". 
He giggled (yes, 70 year olds still giggle...which makes me happy) "NO! I'm not going through those doors!" 
"Just go around twice...see what happens." 
He hesitated...but this told me I was getting to him. The next thing I knew, he uncrossed his arms marched toward the doors and round and round he went! Once, twice, three times! And like all the other folks we've seen, he spat himself out with an enormous smile on his face. Walking back to me he says, "I can't believe you made me do that." 
"What do you mean? I didn't make you do anything.", I quipped. "But it worked, didn't it?" 
I was as happy as a bird with a french fry...and I'm convinced he was too.


I hope to always remember this story and hold it dear to my heart. It amazes me the adults I run into that have lost their childlike abilities. I don't know if this is something we can blame our society for or not but for me, I want to remember the simple joys in life and never take for granted how these little things can make others feel. 

So for no reason, skip! Roll around in the grass! Sing Disney songs with your friends and for heaven's sake, take a trip around the revolving glass doors for once! Your heart will thank you. 

banana slug

"My friend asked me if I wanted a frozen banana. I said `No, but I want a regular banana later, so... yeah.`'

"It's not about how fast you go. It's not about how far you go. It's a process."

Amby Burfoot, The Runner's Guide to the Meaning of Life

A process indeed. I am currently in my first full week of actual Marathon training. I am no longer in my base training phase...which scares the crap out of me.

For one thing, with Ali and Jen, I visited our dear friend Beth in Seattle last weekend (Memorial weekend). I promised myself I would run my scheduled 7 miles on Sunday 'no matter what'. Apparently, there were loopholes in that statement...

'no matter what unless...'

unless there are huge hills in Seattle (check),

unless we walk 500 miles all over downtown (check),

unless we stay out until 3am dancing and grubbin' out at IHOP (check and check).

I wouldn't normally beat myself up for missing this run since I really did a lot of activity while we were in town. But this day set the pace for the rest of the week. Somehow I became too busy and too darned tired to run at all for the rest of the week! My only legit excuse fell on Thursday when I had to work extra early AND late then rushing out to grab yummy Veraci pizza for our small group that we host. Otherwise, I was just too darned lazy. Not the way I wanted to spend my last week of base training.

I wrestled with thoughts like, "is this it? Did I just ruin my chances by being lazy?" and "will I be ok after this entire week off?" The answer? YES, silly girl. In fact, I was soooo ok that when Bobby accidentally dropped me off 1 mile too far for my long run on Sunday, resulting in a surprisingly fast 8 mile run, I didn't even feel as though I'd been MIA. (it should be noted that this 'accidental' 8 miler was a lack of communication on both parts and failure to pay attention on my part...but it's a funny story now so who cares?)

I'm supposed to be swimming on Mondays but I just haven't gotten my act together the last 3 weeks...the longer I'm there by myself, the more I feel like the solitary beta fish I used to keep as a pet...back and forth, back and forth, round and round...I've got nothing to look at but the bottom of the pool and the occational unenthusiastic lifeguard when I come up to breathe. But I know it's good for me, this going round and round, so pick it back up I must!

Tuesday's run had the typical 'bag of rocks' feel to it...I think my body just hates waking up at 5:30am and this is the way it retaliates. But I encountered an obstacle course that looked like strikingly similar to Canadian geese and a slimy slug upon my return home that prompted the kid in me to poke it with a stick.

Apparently, they have 4 noses.