While you run, all those who have been training with you are the ones you rely on, draw strength from, and share the sweat and tears with. It isn't until the end of the race that you get to see those who have been silently cheering you on.
When you cross the finish line, it is like no other feeling. You see your loved ones, in this case my husband and other various family members. There are treats such as ice cream, bbq, water (of course), oranges, bagels, anything you could imagine.
I remember just having the "runner's high." To me, it was the ultimate accomplishment for me as a runner. I had set a goal and achieved it to the best that I could. My time wasn't as good as those before me (obviously). I just went at the speed I could with the endurance that I had and performed as well as my body and mind would allow me to.
As I explained this to Doug, I could see the pride in his eyes (or something). He knew I had done my best. He knew this was important to me. He listened to me chatter on and then he helped me in my ice bath and listened to me whine about all my soreness for weeks.
I relate this story much to life. There are uphills and downhills. We are here to be tested. Nobody ever said it would be easy, nobody ever said we wouldn't have deep sorrow, nobody ever could imagine the happiness we would feel or the joy we would feel also.
We were however promised that we would be sent here for a purpose. To gain a body and to learn how body, mind, and spirit all worked together toward one goal. To return to our Father in Heaven. He gave us a set of commandments to follow, much like my marathon training schedule. He gave us trials, much like the uphills I had to climb. He gave us downhills, so that we could draw strength from them and recover from those uphills so that we could have the faith and endurance to climb the next hill.
At the end of the race, or our lives, we will be able to see those who are silently cheering us on. They are rooting for us, they want us to join them again with our Father in Heaven. They pray for us and comfort us in our very darkest moments, so that we can draw strength from them and endure just one more day.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Marathon Training - Part 1
In 2005, I decided it was time to push myself to the limits. I had been awaking at the very early hour of 6am every morning (except Sundays) to run 6 miles. It was challenging, invigorating, and I was in the best physical shape of my life. I was also running my partner ragged, bless her heart.
I knew it was time, it was time a change. When I was in high school, there was a girl who told me that she wanted to run a marathon before she turned 18. I thought to myself, why in the world would anyone run 26.2 miles VOLUNTARILY!!!! She must me crazy. Well my turn came in 2005. I was in my prime, ready to take on the world (or something).
A girl friend from my ward and I started talking. We were going to do the St. George Marathon... crazy or not. We met up with a group of about 5 men and women and began our sweat and tears. We shared many a good moments and many a not so great moments in our 1000 miles of training together. We sweat together, we hurt together, and we prayed we could go the 22nd mile together.
I remember a particular morning on a training run, we had been up since about 415am and were on our 19th mile (with still 2 more to go). We wondered what we were doing to our poor bodies, why in the world were we doing this? We kept our eye on the goal and played a "game." The "I am grateful for..." game. We were grateful for our shoes, for our legs, for the shade, for the previous 19 miles we had already run. We were grateful we had water and sunscreen and hats and sunglasses. It was a not so pretty moment as we were grateful for various things. However, as we realized how grateful we were at a time when we were so tired, weak, and just ready to be done, we were able to carry on.
After all the sweat, tears, soreness, and two very expensive pairs of shoes later, we headed up to St. George for race day. It was exhilarating. The course was beautiful, the morning was beautiful, every one was excited and full of energy. Of course it wasn't all roses, one of the members of our group got the "flu" and was sick the night before and that morning, but she persevered. All that hard work was not going to waste on her.
We began the race, all pumped and ready to go. We had all the energy and excitement in the world, this was what we had trained for. The wind was blowing to keep us cool, we had water and gatorade, ipods (well something like that), and each other. It was invigorating. The first 7 miles, I hit my best time ever!!! It was all downhill (kind of).
And then came our first hill.... (dun dun dun). It was uphill for what seemed like eternity, really it was just a mile (JUST a mile HA!!). I felt like I was going to pass out, but this is what I had been waiting for, I still had 19 miles to go, I couldn't poop out now. So persevered we did. We said our "gratefuls" and up we went. Well you know that what goes up must come down and boy were we grateful for the downhill after that uphill. It was easy sailing. I thought "OH, this is easy..." and we continued on.
As we ran, we thought about the people who were waiting at each point to cheer us on, boy were we grateful for them. They boosted our energy, increased our confidence, and renewed our vigor to carry on. As we saw our husbands, they cheered and put smiles on our faces. Then came the halfway mark, 13.1 miles. Boy the countdown could now begin, we knew there was an end in our sight.
And then.... the wall. Everyone hits the wall. It could be mile 10, 15, 18, 21, 25, mine came at about mile 22. I thought to myself, there is no way I can make this. I can't do this, it is just too hard. There is a car right behind me that I could just wave my hand and he would pick me up and take me to the finish line, simple as that. Then I thought to myself, seriously? Seriously? You spent all that time preparing and training and eating right and all that TIME? And you are going to give up? Are you crazy? YES!!!! LOL. So I told my running partner and she said, "You can do it." I put my ear phones on and up ahead was the crowd.
They were everywhere, there were so many people cheering us on, little kids putting their hands out so that we could slap their hands. They were cheering for me, they were rooting for me. I knew that I could do it then. I said a prayer (one of MANY during that race) and off I went with renewed (well kind of) energy and mentality to continue with the race. I wasn't about to give up. I am not a quitter and if the one person in my group could go on after puking all night, then I sure as heck could. So I carried on. I ran my little heart out.
My friend and I saw the finish line up ahead. We looked at each other, grabbed one another's hand and raced for the finish line. 26.2 miles. We did it and we did it together. I know that I could not have done it without her. We knew the sweat and pain and heartache and soreness like no one else. We knew all the hours and money and time and sleep we gave up to accomplish this goal. And finish we did. It was another exhilarating moment, a real sense of accomplishment.
The marathon was complete and we had accomplished our goal.
I knew it was time, it was time a change. When I was in high school, there was a girl who told me that she wanted to run a marathon before she turned 18. I thought to myself, why in the world would anyone run 26.2 miles VOLUNTARILY!!!! She must me crazy. Well my turn came in 2005. I was in my prime, ready to take on the world (or something).
A girl friend from my ward and I started talking. We were going to do the St. George Marathon... crazy or not. We met up with a group of about 5 men and women and began our sweat and tears. We shared many a good moments and many a not so great moments in our 1000 miles of training together. We sweat together, we hurt together, and we prayed we could go the 22nd mile together.
I remember a particular morning on a training run, we had been up since about 415am and were on our 19th mile (with still 2 more to go). We wondered what we were doing to our poor bodies, why in the world were we doing this? We kept our eye on the goal and played a "game." The "I am grateful for..." game. We were grateful for our shoes, for our legs, for the shade, for the previous 19 miles we had already run. We were grateful we had water and sunscreen and hats and sunglasses. It was a not so pretty moment as we were grateful for various things. However, as we realized how grateful we were at a time when we were so tired, weak, and just ready to be done, we were able to carry on.
After all the sweat, tears, soreness, and two very expensive pairs of shoes later, we headed up to St. George for race day. It was exhilarating. The course was beautiful, the morning was beautiful, every one was excited and full of energy. Of course it wasn't all roses, one of the members of our group got the "flu" and was sick the night before and that morning, but she persevered. All that hard work was not going to waste on her.
We began the race, all pumped and ready to go. We had all the energy and excitement in the world, this was what we had trained for. The wind was blowing to keep us cool, we had water and gatorade, ipods (well something like that), and each other. It was invigorating. The first 7 miles, I hit my best time ever!!! It was all downhill (kind of).
And then came our first hill.... (dun dun dun). It was uphill for what seemed like eternity, really it was just a mile (JUST a mile HA!!). I felt like I was going to pass out, but this is what I had been waiting for, I still had 19 miles to go, I couldn't poop out now. So persevered we did. We said our "gratefuls" and up we went. Well you know that what goes up must come down and boy were we grateful for the downhill after that uphill. It was easy sailing. I thought "OH, this is easy..." and we continued on.
As we ran, we thought about the people who were waiting at each point to cheer us on, boy were we grateful for them. They boosted our energy, increased our confidence, and renewed our vigor to carry on. As we saw our husbands, they cheered and put smiles on our faces. Then came the halfway mark, 13.1 miles. Boy the countdown could now begin, we knew there was an end in our sight.
And then.... the wall. Everyone hits the wall. It could be mile 10, 15, 18, 21, 25, mine came at about mile 22. I thought to myself, there is no way I can make this. I can't do this, it is just too hard. There is a car right behind me that I could just wave my hand and he would pick me up and take me to the finish line, simple as that. Then I thought to myself, seriously? Seriously? You spent all that time preparing and training and eating right and all that TIME? And you are going to give up? Are you crazy? YES!!!! LOL. So I told my running partner and she said, "You can do it." I put my ear phones on and up ahead was the crowd.
They were everywhere, there were so many people cheering us on, little kids putting their hands out so that we could slap their hands. They were cheering for me, they were rooting for me. I knew that I could do it then. I said a prayer (one of MANY during that race) and off I went with renewed (well kind of) energy and mentality to continue with the race. I wasn't about to give up. I am not a quitter and if the one person in my group could go on after puking all night, then I sure as heck could. So I carried on. I ran my little heart out.
My friend and I saw the finish line up ahead. We looked at each other, grabbed one another's hand and raced for the finish line. 26.2 miles. We did it and we did it together. I know that I could not have done it without her. We knew the sweat and pain and heartache and soreness like no one else. We knew all the hours and money and time and sleep we gave up to accomplish this goal. And finish we did. It was another exhilarating moment, a real sense of accomplishment.
The marathon was complete and we had accomplished our goal.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Trials
Our trip to Havasupai holds a very "odd" spot in my heart, for this was the time that Daxton was taken from us. I can place my footsteps at each minute of the morning on Monday, June 9. Despite my better judgement my mind continually wanders to the morning I was hiking out singing Bon Jovi at the top of my lungs while events transpired as such.However, we were able to meet some very incredible people along our journey. Sweating and hiking miles on end forms a bond that is unbroken. Among these was a guy named Reuben. His wife who we had not and have not met personally has spent countless hours of her most precious time putting together this phenomenal video with pictures and music to our little chubba wubba's life. I could never thank her enough or ever pay her enough for the kindness she has rendered on behalf of my little angel.
Here is the result of her labors:
Click here
You will need to download Quicktime player if you don't already have it. It takes but a few moments, so while you wait, grab yourself a box of tissues to enjoy 12 minutes of my baby's pictures. It is a real tear jerker. Well for me anyway :).
To visit her website:
Click here for Jen's blog
As I was reading back on previous posts, I came across one that said that I wasn't looking forward to anything that life was going by too quickly and that I just wanted to enjoy every day of it. I believe it was at this time the Lord was preparing me to take my most precious baby away from me. He knew that in order for me to now look back with no regrets that I had to appreciate the moments with Daxton and to not let them pass by to quickly by wishing the days away.
As it is, I have joined a very unique club of men and women who have lost childrent. The bond we share is impenetrable. I would not wish losing a child upon anyone, nor would I wish on them a trial more than they can bear. Which leads me to a thought I have been having. Of course, in any situation, you look around and see others who either have it better or worse or the same as you and you begin to compare (subconsciously of course). You compare houses, clothes, cars, and other things. Then you look a little deeper and you compare trials. They have it harder than you or you have it harder than them. How come they don't get this trial or that trial?
These are unfair and very presumptuous thoughts on my part. How can I look around and say that my "trial" is harder than so and so's trial when their trial to them may be just as hard as my trial to them. When we compare trials and different situations, it is like comparing apples to oranges. There is really no way to compare, let alone know how each person feels about each trial they are facing. What might break me might be fairly easy to someone else.Our Father in Heaven knows each and every one of us. Our Savior, even Jesus Christ, knows our pains. He knows our sufferings. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He will always be with us in our trials and tribulations. He will never give us more than we can handle (without His help). When we are in our worst moments, He is with us. He helps us along the way. I know in these 7 weeks that my Savior and Father in Heaven have been very close. They have watched over me in my darkest hours. I know they are not very far away and that they will always be with me.
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