One Less Car

Since I moved to Texas, I’ve decided to embrace the new flatness of life and take up biking.  While living in Utah I was a bit intimidated by the mountain passes and single track trails that my friends powered up and barreled down respectively.  But Texas presented new challenges to the biker: we call it the F-350 truck.

Here there are few places to ride where I don’t fear getting nudged off the road by monster trucks.  But, happily, the training while riding to and from work leads to some sweet organized bike rides that present a great challenge.

Two weeks ago I did the Muddy Buddy in Dallas, TX.  This is an 8 mile course, of which I ran half and mountain biked half.  Along the course there were five military obstacles, the last of which was an army crawl through a pit of mud.  My friend Dave was my partner, and we had a great time training for the race in separate cities, and challenging each other when I’d visit Dallas for business.  As race day approached we both kicked up our training.  The weather was on our side, and the overcast days allowed us to run up to 5 miles without getting heat stroke.  I was quite jazzed for the race, and it was a total blast.  I’m already looking for other courses like this for next year.

 

100 messy feet to end it

Victory!

 

As if last weekend wasn’t enough, I signed up for the Tour de Donut in Katy this last weekend.  The day after Halloween was a rough sell to my friends, but a few of the ladies joined me for 56 miles on the road bikes.

 

Alex, Kristin, Luwannah, and Leanna

 

The Tour de Donut also sponsors a race, but we decided to do the longer ride.  For the race, riders travel 28 miles and eat donuts from Shipley’s at each rest stop.  For each donut you eat, they subtract six minutes from your race time.  So, long story short many riders finish with negative times by downing 30 donuts.  It makes my stomach hurt just thinking about it!

 

They saved a few donuts for us 56 milers!

All in all, it was a great ride.  I enjoyed the time with the girls, and fruit and donuts are great in my book.  I wish I could pretend to be a tough girl, but honestly I could barely walk that evening.  Luckily, Kim is a great long distance coach and instructed me how to care for my achy muscles and tender ligaments.  I’m back in action and already hassling the boys to ride to work this week.  We always need One Less Car on the road.

 

Sensation nation

All day long we get bombarded by images, noises, smells, feelings, and tastes.  We’re Americans; I call this sensory overload.  In kindergarten we refer to our observations as using our “5 senses” which is a definition which we came to loosely based on Aristotle’s observations.  Psychologists often break up our senses into more particular categories, but really they are variations on a theme.  Our bodies are capable of sensing the world around us, which I’m pretty amazed by.

Our neuroreceptors are all varied and specialized for unique tasks, but all are based on the transfer of information.  When a rod or cone is triggered it transmits to the brain the intensity and color of light its being bleached by.  When my finger grazes against the soft cotton of my freshly washed sheets it clues my brain in that I’m touching.  Scent and taste are so closely linked it scares me, but I enjoy these the most I think.  Right now I have carrot cake baking in the oven, and its taking all my willpower to not go and gourge myself on the first pan of cupcakes cooling on the counter.

So while I write about the senses I’m very aware of the world around me.  I feel awake today, smelling and touching the rain, tasting life all around me.  I decided to write about senses because I feel like 90% of the time I’m oblivious to what my body is sensing.  Day to day life is so rushed, we miss the soft moments and we don’t linger in the brilliant colors.  I recently hiked Grandieur Peak with Kim, and I noticed all 5 of my senses going full tilt.

The fall colors were brilliant against the patches of snow.

Fresh mountain (tap) water tasted cool and refreshing when we paused for a sip.

Birds tittered incessantly in the trees.

The hummus and detritus smelled so potent as we tromped through the trees.

Kim’s warm hand felt rough and loving when she touched my shoulder for a photo.

So while on “vacation” I’m a bit more observant.  In the day to day I let it slip.  My friend Joe gave me a book of Neurobic Exercises, probably because he thinks I’m a little fanatical about being intentional with life.  The book was triggered by my desire to be ambidextrous-I think being uni-handed is just too easy.  Some of my favorite exercises in the book are related to the senses.  Challenges for this week:

• Shower with my eyes closed.  It means I have to smell the difference between shampoo and body wash, feel for the dry towel, and test the water carefully.
• Drive with the windows open to create a scent map of my drive.  This ones a little dangerous, as Pasadena has some weird/gross smells.  But its good for me.
• Learn a new ethnic dish each time I cook.  All around a good idea.

So, please join me in sensing your way through life.

Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each. – Henry David Thoreau

I don’t want to grow up

I have a milestone coming up, a birthday that makes me feel like I’m starting grown up life.  In a week I’ll be 25.  I don’t think I’m getting old, but honestly time has started to go so fast.  I remember when I was in Kindergarten and a week seemed to drag on for an eternity, and oh that school year lasted FOREVER.  But, in perspective that one year was a full fifth of my life.  Now I have 25 under my belt and the days go so quickly.

I’m noticing this grown up life more, not because I’m living it, but because I’ve been so determined to get to know the kids in my life.  I’ve been amazed at how a little bit of time and attention for the kids at church or my nieces while I’m in Utah breaks down their walls and I see life.  I feel so energized when I’m with them, I feed off their playful attitudes and curiosity.  I want that!  I love dancing in the kitchen with Allie at church, or racing with the girls in the pool back home.  Who would have guessed that the lady who had few girl friends growing up would so deeply fall for the little ladies in her life.  That being said, Owen stole my heart last weekend when he nestled in for a cuddle when he was getting ready for bed, so maybe cute innocence is more of the defining factor here.

So in my 25th year, I’m going to make some new plans for myself.

1.  Worry less, dance in circles more

2.  Work out for the pure release of it, not out of obligation

3.  Cuddle more frequently

4.  Wake up excited to see the sun

5.  Trust God with the grown up stuff

6.  Act my shoe size

Gold and Silver

While on my very-grown-up-no-fun business trip, I managed to sneak away for a little personal time.  I had a great family evening with some missionary friends, a nice run and dinner with a new friend from Utah, and a stunning evening with an oldie (but goodie) best buddy.

Many years ago, before the mountains showed me their beauty and wonder, I was the epitome of a California girl for 2 years.  I danced and sang in show choir, dated a surfer, shopped at the mall nearly everyday with my brother, and drove around in my dads convertible.  Its a far cry from the lifestyle I live now, and very different from the lifestyle I want to be living.  It was in Valencia that I met Ashley.  She was an inspiration to me in high school, bubbly and confident, stunning and brilliant.

The stars aligned and now she lives in Dallas.  We met up for dinner and my friend/coworker Kristin joined us.  I was happily surprised at how easily conversation just flowed!  I know I pick great friends, and its even more obvious to me when they enjoy each other like I enjoy them.  Stories and laughter ensued, and a little custom yogurt wrapped up the evening.

As Kristin and I were driving back to the hotel I was humming an interesting tune.  I’ve repressed most childhood memories about girl scouts but I do remember one song:

Make new friends, but keep the old.
One is silver, the other is gold.

A circle is round, it has no end.
That’s how long, I will be your friend.

A fire burns bright,  it warms the heart.
We’ve been friends, from the very start.

You have one hand, I have the other.
Put them together, We have each other.

Silver is precious,  Gold is too.
I am precious, and so are you.

You help me,  and I’ll help you
and together we will see it through.

The sky is blue The Earth is green
I can help to keep it clean

Across the land Across the sea
Friends forever We will always be

Cheers to all my friends, old and new

Smash!

Oh the glamor of work travel…  I just spent a week in Dallas for Six Sigma training, but the most eventful moments were as the training wrapped and I made the journey home.  Happily, training ended early.  To my chagrin, my flight wasn’t until 7 pm so I had a few hours to burn.  I went to a sweet little spot called Mockingbird station (recommended by dear friend Ashley) to read at a coffee shop and shop a bit.  Sweet relaxation; I fell asleep in the chair and was politely woken by a barista.

Many adventures insued on the way to the airport, including 20 minutes trying to open the gas tank and a long conversation about the pretty picture of a glacier on my REI credit card.  Texas is so funny.

Long story short, my flight was even further delayed by a massive storm hovering over Houston.  We finally left at 8:30, and flew into one of the most impressive storms I’ve ever seen.  As we flew I was riveted by the book I picked up in the airport, but couldn’t help but notice the intensity and frequency of flashes outside my window.  I eventually layed the book down, chugged the last of my ginger ale, then pressed my nose to the glass to watch as God had a photo shoot in the clouds.

Lightning was arching from cloud to cloud, pounding the earth with bolts as think as my thumb, and lighting up the sky like the sun.  I was enthralled!  One cloud repeatedly struck itself, don’t ask me how.  The surface of the cloud would light up with bolts around the outside, it looked like the cloud was wrapped in electric lace.  I wish I could have captured a picture, I couldn’t even imagine something like that.

Point of interest: I didn’t give in to the desire to nerd up this post with a discussion of fractal geometry in lightning.  Your welcome.

Today I’m hoping for another storm.

Blogging to blog

I have piles of journals in my room.  I remember when I was thirteen loving the secret world of journals.  I could write to myself, to God, to my friends and they will remain untouched until I say otherwise.  I wondered if I died a tragic death if people would read through them and know me, really know me.

So starting a blog was only natural.  I like to write, even if my sentences don’t flow or even bounce from the page.  But, the trouble is my blog is much like my journals, they have immense gaps;  I forget to write for huge periods of time.  Occasionally this gap is because I’m living life with incredible voracity, falling in love, adventuring and making memory so rich words can’t do them justice.  Wow that sounds like fun.  This time its because I feel like I have nothing note worthy to record, I’m bored with my own life again.

It was silly.  This weekend someone tried to stir up some drama in my life, which normally a bored person would jump on like a fat kid on a cupcake.  Blasted!  I swatted it away and have already moved on!  Get me out of this rut!

Hootie is singing on Pandora as I write “And I want to feel like I did…”  Even he wants something real to sing about.

I need boxing gloves

I’m prepping for a fight.  Even though I have three big tough brothers (yep, sucking up in case any of them ever reads this) I don’t know how to fight.  I couldn’t throw a punch if my life depended on it.  Maybe I’ll need to call one of them in for a little tag-team action.    If I was a girl who liked to play the odds, I’d bet that I’m going to get my socks rocked.

Now, who is it that I will be fighting?  24 year old, “professional,” Christian women don’t fight, right?  Truth, fight might be a bit dramatic of a term for what I’m prepping for.  My fight is going to take place in the calming scenario of my couch, with candles burning, pen and journal in hand.  I’ll be fighting against myself, my will and stubbornness in fact.  I never learned to punch and jab, but I did pick up some pig-headedness along the way.  I’ve been stewing in stubbornness for months now.

This fighting analogy emerged last night with the Ecclesia Leadership team.  I said that I was tired of fighting to be happy.  We discussed what it means to go to the mat with God, to really hash out our frustrations with him.  Everyone kept telling me that its good to fight.  I had my arms crossed, and all the while I was thinking “When I said I was tired of fighting, I meant I wanted to hang my gloves neatly on a hook by the door as I walked out. “  Classic fight or flight response.  When the catacholamines hit the floor, I like to fly.  I admitted I don’t know how to float like a butterfly, or sting like a bee, and I mean that in the sense of a spiritual fight as well.

So maybe this fight just requires me to lay down and surrender.  I could really hang up my gloves.

Mosquito attack

So I’ve recently discovered that mosquito spray is dangerous to the health, who would have thunk?

When I left my friend Martha’s house tonight, the mosquito abatement crew had just misted the neighborhood.  Silly me, I should have stayed in the safety of the house, becuase the spray that kills bugs tried to kill me.  I had the worst asthma attack I’ve had in years (we’re talking Ginger swerving through traffic to race a purple tinged Alex to the hospital style of asthma attack, it wasn’t pretty).  I didn’t realize it was getting bad until I was almost home, and then I had the internal debate to try and take care of myself or just drive straight to the E.R.  I decided to take myself inside, where my new roommate made me some hot water and I used over a months worth of inhalers to calm my lungs down.  Disaster averted, but it was not fun.

So as much fun as it can be to read my stories of breathless white knuckle driving, it gives me the perfect excuse for writing about life and its risks.  I’ve gotten very frustrated thinking about the risks I take every day and how much I worry about safety.  Granted, worry about safety at a chemical plant is completely warranted, I’m not knocking work safety here.  But I get an earful from family whenever I talk about climbing, biking, skiing, driving in Texas traffic; doing all the memory creating activities that bring joy.

I understand these are “dangerous activities” but in this life isn’t couch surfing or even driving home considered a “dangerous activity”?

I’m reading a great book right now about a man who challenges all the assumptions of the American culture.  He tells a tragic tale of how his horse dies, and honestly it broke my heart.  Eustace fell in love with a horse, and he and this horse journeyed across the country, setting a world record.  The horse and he loved adventure, they experienced something few people ever have or will.  After their amazing journey, Eustace took the horse home and he lived a normal horse life, in a barn going for short easy rides.  One day while out riding, he stumbled over a small stone, fell and shattered his femur, 100 YARDS from the barn.  Thus, Eustace’s love died.  This horse had crossed perilous terrain, survived epic conditions, and ran free.  It broke my heart a little to think that he could have missed out on all that for fear of tripping over a stone in his own backyard.

So, I fear getting hurt climbing or skiing.  I dread getting hurt doing one of life’s everyday activities like walking, driving, or breathing.  Life is precious and fragile.  Can I respect and protect at the same time?

Where Happy Little Bluebirds Fly

The Wizard of Oz is the theme of the last week for me. It started with text messages on Tuesday.  Ian was flying in to Houston, and got stuck due to tornadoes in Georgia.  He thought it was all too ironic that “Somewhere over the Rainbow” was playing over the radio in the airport.  In the spirit of connectedness, it made me nervous.

I went to see the Wizard of Oz at Seraphim Hall last night.   Happily, Broadway Across America has been a great experience while living so close to a big city.  Every other month we go into the city, enjoy great food, and then watch a great play.  Usually Emily sleeps through half of it, and sometimes we still go out drinking afterward.  I love it:)  I’ve seen real broadway quality shows, for a screaming good deal.  And I’ve come to know some amazing people; what a bonus.

Today was rough.  After a little flooding in the streets and crying in the house, the Huffs and I settled in for a movie.  We choose Australia, with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman.  Great film.  Guess what the theme song is?

Due to the chaos and drama of the day, I’m trying to figure this song out.  Where is the rainbow and how do I get to the other side?  There was definitely enough rain today to warrant a prismatic anomaly.

Whale of a Tale

Most people know that I grew up in a typical Christian family.  I went to church, helped my mom make communion bread, learned the bible stories from the flannel graphs just like many others.  I liked the stories.  The fantastic tales of Noah and the city sized ship, the plagues of Egypt, and the Garden of Eden were my favorites.  Those stories had happy endings; Noah saw the first rainbow, the Jews escaped into the wilderness to have a big party, and Adam and Eve got the roam of the planet to enjoy nature.  It all seemed so simple and beautiful when characters were stuck up on the board, there was no pain, no understanding of sin, no chaos.  I guess flannel pictures simplify all of that away.  I didn’t know that Adam and Eve probably got sunburn in un-mentionable places.

Now, out of all the stories I learned, very few ever required an action.  Most of the time I was just learning biblical history, which in all honesty is quite boring.  I am an action kind-a girl, I like to do stuff.  So I’ve enjoyed over the last few years reading the biblical history reports with in the SOAP format – Scripture, Observation, Application, Prayer.  To me, the application part is key to preventing the stories from just rolling right out of my over stimulated brain.  I haven’t figured out how to apply the Garden or the Ark to life here in 2009, but one historical story has piqued my interest.

God said to Jonah “Rise and go to Nineveh, that great city, and call out against it, for their evil has come up before me.”  But Jonah rose to flee to Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.

Wow, what an IDIOT!  That sounds incredibly judgemental but come on.  If God told you to do something, you’d have to be a fool to try and run the other direction.  Jonah was raised to know the stories, he knew of God’s power.  And for some reason he thought being outside of God presence would be a. possible and b. better.

We all know the next part of the story, he gets kicked off a boat, Moby Dick swallows him, he meets Pinocchio in the belly of a fish, and escapes to live happily ever after (the details are a little vague to me, but you get the point). So God put something huge in Jonah’s way to stop him from running away.  I can’t even count the number of times God has thrown in a monkey wrench to stop me from being an idiot.  I’m just like Jonah, I’m a runner.  I often know the right action to take, and I turn tail because ‘Its too hard’ or ‘I’m tired.’  And its when I manage to run, be it mentally or physically, that it becomes obvious I’m an idiot.

There comes a point when we all hit rock bottom from our stupid decisions.  What lesson do I need to learn today?  And where’s the whale?

We all want progress, but if you’re on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn, and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive. -C.S. Lewis