Saturday, September 24, 2011
my soapbox for the day...
hero worship is a dangerous thing. By that, I mean putting anyone here on this earth in a place of higher importance than yourself.
Celebrities, political leaders, religious leaders, business icons... etc.... they are all human. Only God deserves that place of worship.
I have seen it at conventions for network marketing companies - someone has made a financial success of themselves and suddenly they are surrounded with admirers that think so highly of them and want to take photos with them and put them on this weird pedestal of creating an idol of that individual.
Celebrities that have been in a few successful movies are suddenly worshipped for their ability to act and become our role models?
Religious leaders are held on a pedestal and expected to be perfect and flawless?
Business leaders become experts on everything?
in Business -
I remember talking with someone at one of these business conventions that many had placed on this crazy pedestal and she gave me some great advice. I was what was called a "unit Leader" in a company called Creative Memories and was attending a National Convention where all those amazing leaders are recognized on stage and guest speakers and performers come and there is all this great hype to get you excited to drive forward in your business.
During a lunch break at one of these conventions I challenged myself to find a table with someone I respected or looked like they were a success and join their table. So I found this woman, Vicki Morgan, she was one of those women that was at the very forefront of the company's growth. She was making more money in a month than I did in a year combined with my husband. She was someone I wanted to pick her brain and get all the secrets from.
I learned one amazing secret - she was a human being just like me. I was so nervous to talk to her and stumbled over my questions to her.
She sensed my weird nervousness and told me that she was no different than me, just older and had been working hard at it longer than me. and she cautioned me about idolizing anyone. she said" when you put someone else on a pedestal, you are putting yourself below them as if you cannot do what they have done."
That has always stayed with me.
in religion -
I had an experience with a Bishop in my church back when I was 21 yrs old that I felt made a wrong decision that directly affected me. I was so thrown by what I believed to be his bad call that I let it affect my belief that God wanted him as a bishop for that ward. It effected me so greatly at the time that I considered leaving the church I knew to be true. Later I came to the realization that although called of God - these men of God are also just men doing their best and my job was to handle my grievances better than I did then. To put them on a pedestal of someone incapable of mistakes is to allow yourself to be thrown completely for a loop when something isn't as you think it should be.
in life -
I have often admired experts - especially female leaders: Oprah Winfrey, Tosca Reno, Suzie Orman and Jillian Micheals. I admire their drive, leadership, business sense, expertise in their fields, etc... and for a while I made a mistake of holding them up on a pedestal. BUT ALL of these women are missing something ciritcal that I have - a family with a devoted husband and children. so... are these the women I want as my idols in life?
no.... I can respect them for the work they do. but to put them on a pedestal above me is to believe that I am lower than any of them. we are equals. although I am not on TV or in books (yet), I have had a different life I have chosen. That also does not make me better. just different.
in social life -
What about your neighbor with the perfect family? You have no idea what they struggle with. To hold that other mom up on a pedestal is to say that she is better than you. She isn't. I admire a certain blogger/friend of mine that has this amazing ability to create beautiful art, crafts, and delicious dinners. She has a great talent at home decor, she always dresses amazing and her make-up is always perfect. She and I are different. while she spends time on those things, I spend time on other areas of life. I am not better than her or she better than me. To believe she is better than me is to believe that my talents are less important.
live up to the talents God gave you, never to feel like they are less than anyone else. Hold your head up and look at everyone in the eye as an equal. recognize that everyone is capable of mistakes, sorrows, and struggles no matter the outward appearance.
Go ahead and respect others for what they have accomplished, learn from them, but never ever ever think they are better than you, perfect or flawless. recognize all mankind has imperfections. for some reason all my celebrity "idols" can't keep a family relationship or marriage together. The playing field is level. God created us all as his children. I have the same ability to return to his arms as you or anyone else. It is an amazing thing. and for some reason, I have to constantly remind myself of this.
Your feelings of self worth directly affect your ability to accomplish your goals in life. and your feelings of self worth are directly affected by whether or not you compare your talents and abilities to everyone else around you. You are just as capable as the next person. even if you haven't accomplished what you hope to just yet, You are CAPABLE AND WORTHY OF IT!
Just my soapbox for the day. thanks for letting me get my thoughts out of my head.
Friday, September 23, 2011
So, why purple?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Still Crazy after all these years...
15 years ago Bill and I were married in my parent's backyard. one year later we were sealed for time and all eternity in a "Mormon" temple.
Love changes... people change... Bill and I are NOT the same kids that said "I do" 15 years ago. We've fought, we've cried, we've loved, we've laughed. There were times when a long walk alone was a necessity to make it through. I have wondered if we could make it.
Today... Today, I am glad I didn't drive away 10 years ago when times got tough. Today I look at the man in my home with new eyes. He is a great man. I watch him watching the kids play and playing with them. I watch him stress over if we can keep our house and if we will have enough money. He works hard to keep a roof over our heads. he works hard to make sure I am happy. He works hard to make sure the kids get time with him. There is no better place for me than with him.
We are not perfect people. I am far far far from an ideal wife. I give him a lot of stress, I know. I have not led a perfect life - far from that as well. But I have found my perfect match. and we live an imperfect and crazy life together - doing our best to help each other to be better than we are alone.
I love this part of Indigo Girls song - Love's recovery -
"To let this love survive would be the greatest gift we could give
Tell all the friends who think they're so together
That these are ghosts and mirages, these thoughts of fairer weather
Though it's storming out I feel safe within the arms of love's discovery"
On our 15th anniversary... times are as hard or harder than ever. there is a lot of questions about where our family is headed financially, times are tough in this economy. But - I have never felt more safe than I do right now. I feel safe in this storm.
I have to give credit where credit is due - I thank God for my good man. I thank God for bringing direction to a relationship that would have been lost without HIS hand in it. I thank GOD for answered Prayers, for scriptures, for opportunities given for Bill and I to serve together to focus on more than ourselves.
It is only with God that love can survive these storms.
Happy anniversary Bill - let's ride these waves together!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
California here I come!
Bill had lined up some business meetings in San Diego During Comic Con (a Convention for the comic book, toy and movie industries - HUGE event!)
So we decided to make a vacation of it. While Bill was doing business in San Diego, the kids and I stayed with my mom in San Clemente for a few days.
Ahhhhh......... vacation.... How I had missed thee.
Hello beach, hello moderate temperatures, hello friendly people, hello busy town with cool shops, hello funky beach cities... ahhhh... my teenage stomping grounds... so many many many memories... how I have missed thee...
We arrived late Tuesday night (1:00am ish) and crashed in the beds my mom had already made up for us. Ilia had been spending a week with Grandma already and I really missed my little girl. The first thing I did was sneak over to her and give her a snuggle and a kiss on her forehead. I really missed this pretty little girl of mine.
Wednesday morning - the kids woke WAY too early and went to play in Grandma's garage/ playroom. Bill had work to do.
So, for us... it was off to the beach right away. We decided on Aliso Creek beach right near Laguna Beach. Perfect day, perfect beach. But it was crowded. There wasn't any open space near the water so we picked a spot next to the lifeguard tower next to the parking lot.
I put sunscreen on Ferrell first and put his life jacket on him, worked on Dane and the other kids next, and grabbed a sandwich out of the cooler.
As I bit into my sandwich I turned to check on the kids.
There rolling in the waves was an orange lifejacket. A little body struggling to get up as another wave rolled him over and unable to get his breathe. I was terrified! I cannot tell you how fast I moved. Perhaps the fastest I have ever moved in my life. I didn't even think to throw down the sandwich. I realized as I was next to him and grabbing my little 3 and a half year old out of the water one-handed what it must look like to the other people at the beach that I still had my sandwich in my hand. I seriously just didn't even have time to throw it down.
The life guard got there moments after me in full sprint. I was so glad I had gotten myself in shape that I could beat the lifeguard there.
I snuggled Ferrell for a while. He just wanted to go back up to the camp and play in with the sand toys where it was safe. He also spent a lot of time chasing the birds up and down the beach and gave me a workout just keeping up with him.
I spent most of my time just staying next to him and helping him feel safe again. It took hours before he was ready to even put his toes back in the water. But he did. He was super cautious this time and didn't try to do the big kid stuff - like let the waves chase you up the beach. or even get wet past his ankles anymore. I was just glad he got over it at all enough to get close to the water.
The rest of the time at the beach was mostly uneventful as far as stress level is concerned. The kids enjoyed the waves with their cousins - Jack, Luke and Max Proffit my brothers Ryan and Josh's kids.
I loved seeing serious contemplative Dane in his own world mostly by himself just watching the water.
Crazy Ilia Jumping in full force without concern (other than the sand in uncomfortable places).
Gabe normally a serious kid too - but he was really letting himself go and trying things he would have stayed away from. I love his ear to ear smile.
Evan was still recuperating from an exhausting week of Scout camp followed by time at the Lake with Mom and dad. he was burnt out on sand and water. Mostly Evan enjoyed eating and making sand castles that his little cousins kicked over. grumble grumble...
He decided to get out in the water after the camera battery had been put away.
I also noticed him "noiticing" the cute girls next to us... shhhh... don't tell him I caught him looking. Yup, he's a teenager now.
Afterward we washed off and hit Gpa's jacuzzi. We still loaded the jacuzzi with sand and dirt even after the baths. You just can't get ALL the sand out of things.
Thursday was a day at the pool.
Jessica (my sister in Law) joined us with her kids and we had lunch. Ferrell got brave and removed his life jacket - but luckily stayed holding onto the sides of the pool. Dane kept his life jacket on and swam everywhere the big kids went. I didn't have the luxury of watching Ilia, Gabe and Evan much since I was watching Ferrell with my full attention. But I did notice that a group of kids about Evan's age showed up with a summer camp group and he really enjoyed himself in their games - it was mostly girls. He seems to have grown up a lot this year. A lot more confidence and is walking tall. I loved watching him socialize with the cute girls in a respectful teenage manner. It was great fun for me.
Friday was errand running day - picking up some brand new Stand up Paddle boards and doing a little of Bill's business stuff. We ended up at Bill's dad's house around 5:30pm and went out to dinner at a cute pasta place where Evan finally got the Lasagna he was hoping for, Gabe got the Pizza he wanted and I got the Shrimp scampi I was craving. We had a great time with Bill's dad, he really misses his wife Norma that passed away about 6 months ago from cancer. He wanted to have a special prayer on his home to dedicate it to the Lord and to keep it a Haven from the evils of the world. It was good to be there with him during the dedicatory prayer he offered. I was glad that we made that effort to be there.
We drove back to my mom's house and got there at 1am and crashed back to sleep. Today is my nephew Jack's baptism. He is 8 years old and we don't get to see Ryan and his family very often. So it's a treat to be out here at the same time as this big event in their family.
I miss my work and my house and friends back home. But I have LOVED being here with my family and good times in California.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
My wonderful mother wrote this:
When is Mother’s Day? It begins on the first.
The first time a mother discovers that she will be bearing a child. It all begins then as she murmurs the words, “Mommy, Mom, Mama” over and over, imagining how they will sound coming from my child’s lips someday. It begins to become a reality as she folds and unfolds the little shirts and nighties, imagining the tiny soft body that will almost fill them.
It’s the long wait, anticipating what he/she will look like. What color of hair eyes.
Praying every day thanking God for this child on loan.. Praying for health and a safe arrival.
“The Spirit itself beareath witness with our spirit that we are the
children of God.” Romans 8:13
And the prayers continue for ability and wisdom to take care of his/her every need. Is that when Mother’s day begins?
It begins with joyous relief, the the first sight of your miraculous tiny body. and hearing the startled, robust cry--perhaps a protest from leaving the comfort and safety of the womb upon entering into this world and being thrust into bright lights, noise. Mothers day began when I held my newborn to me and nuzzled your soft skin and smells that new baby smell.
Mothers day began when we dress you in clothes that are surprisingly way too big and we prepare to leave the hospital. We take the exciting ride home, knowing we are family now. The sun seems brighter, the flowers more vibrant or the fall leaves display colors of chili sauce rolling down the hills. Could nature be celebrating too as Mothers
Day begins?
The arrival of each infant coming into this world is sacred and unique for each child. Some of you were met by exuberant brothers and sisters, with wide eyes and arms, each wanting to hold you."How come we got the most beautiful baby" and "I get to hold her when everyone gathers around at Church"
Mothers day is celebrated on a lot of “firsts” We record a lot of them. The first real smile (Its NOT just gas!), the first time you recognized me or Daddy and followed us with your eyes, the first time you could hold something in your hand. The first laugh---did we get that recorded? The first teeth, first time you rolled over, or crawled or climbed the stairs...and later trees and the walls! The first steps. The first words, the chattering that eventually made sense. So many firsts in that beginning year of each child’s life.
People sometimes ask me “How did you raise so many children. I reply “On my knees.” With God’s help we made it through...and found joy in doing so.
There were lots of firsts: When Nathan was just learning to ride a bike and would venture near the corner, I commented to your grandmother “It is so fun to see him ride a trike and be a little adventurous, but I don’t know how far to let him go”
She sagely replied, “That will be the case for the rest of your life.”
And so it was. First a trike, then a bike, then a car. How far to let you out of my sight? Then off to college and then the three M’s: missions, marriage. and military. Nervous, but happy for you. And proud.
It was Mother’s day one Memorial Day as I watched my giant of a son in full military dress uniform with unchecked tears running down his face as he listened to “Taps” and saluted the graves of fallen soldiers.
It was Mothers’ Day each time I attended a school play, a program, an award ceremony, a ball game, a wrestling, match, or a concert (especially the solos).
Priesthood ordinations, Young women awards and actually wanting me to go to girl's camp with you......and not being too embarrassed!
It was Mother’ Day when you shared papers you had written, test results and what went on in school. Even the disappointments brought us closer, just by your sharing them. Who could count the numerous conversations? In the car, at the kitchen sink, taking walks, at the beach or jogging.
We didn’t realize we were building precious memories on those Nature walks, hikes in the mountains, Labor Day picnics, days at the beach and road trips. Inside humor and jokes still on file to recall anytime I need a good laugh!
It was joyous to receive the art work that was plastered on the refrigerator and walls. The hand prints
made and framed.
The stories you brought home from school as you sat at the counter eating homemade bread & jam. You brought your friends in, and enlarged our circle. How you encouraged us to take in strays “He’s really a good kid Mom” and “How can we say no, when we’ve been so blessed?”
It was Mother’s Day to watch you participate, in Student government, debate, cheer leading, drill team.
Do you realize it was Mother’s day watching you complete, demonstrate and show 4-h projects of sewing, cooking, bunny rabbits, sheep, pigs calves? The awards and ribbons you received did not compare to the glow inside me and your father.
It was a pleasure making prom dresses and wedding dresses. Etching out a budget in order to go shopping for school clothes and a new notebook. To hurry through prayers, breakfast and then watch you board the school bus , walk or ride to school each year.
The scout badges were a joy to sew on as you earned them. I loved the “Mothers Day” when 4 hungry, dirty boys returned from a 2 day camp out on their own. You had left arguing about something and returned singing and your arms around each other. I’m not sure what you leaned about cooking and nature, but I loved that I saw that you learned
about each other.
No April Fool’s Day does not surpass Mothers Day, in case anyone should ask. But we continue to get some good jokes in. Memories linger of Christmas Eve, with Grandpa Proffit reading from ST. Luke , New Year celebrations, birthday parties with siblings and cousins , Trick or treating with costumes we would make ourselves, Fireworks on July 4th..which was also Lisa’s birthday. Did we realize those were all actually “Mother’s Days”?
I got the honor of helping Santa fill stockings, the Easter bunny hide eggs and the very ditzy tooth fairy try to remember to put money under the pillow. Were those all on a Mother’s day?
Things started reversing. Losing a tooth was as exciting as getting one. Watching you leave home and the extra room and the quiet you left in your wake...now that’s a good Mother’s day!
I saw brothers and sisters sob as their siblings left for college and on missions, ( and then later confiscate some of their belongings.!)
“I’m glad they called you on a mission” you would sing.
Then what were all the tears when 6 huge sons cried uncontrollably as you sang “Armies of Helaman” at Josh’s farewell? That was an awesome Mother’s Day!
Watching my children fall in love and quietly celebrating when they had to dump the poor choices. You all eventually selected someone as you would bring them home to meet us. What gifts those new sons and daughters in law! So many more to love now. And I congratulate you on great choices .
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies” Proverbs 31:10
Each time one of you got married, each brother and sister and their families came to help celebrate. What a joy to see tall handsome sons and beautiful daughters lined up at the solemn ceremonies and to feel Nathan's presence there too. What joy on those special "Mother's days.
And now the numerous births of grandchildren and watching the cycle repeat over and over, a most precious Mother’s day present is watching my children love each other and their own families as they teach their children. My constant gift is the wonderful awe of each new child, and all their firsts. Thank you thank you for sharing them with me, bringing them to my house to play with the dress up, to play tennis, to read or enjoy the hot tub and the beach. they bring their poetry and stories,and music. Thanks for sending pictures and posting their events on the face book and My family.
Thanks for moving over and allowing us to come to your house for those baby blessings, baptisms, sporting events, concerts, plays,graduations, or just for the fun of it.
Phone calls, cards, are marvelous. I thrill when a grandchild calls or writes a note. It’s Mother’s day again when my beautiful, strong daughters call to talk about everything and nothing? Just girl talk.
Some time ago, one of you protested , “Why is there a Mother’s Day and a Father’s Day, but no “Children’s Day” ?
I passed on the answer my mother gave me. “Every day is Children’s Day!”
I’m reconsidering that answer. I guess everyday is Mother’s day. It begins on a first and continues on and on . The ‘first’ seems to come more often now a days.
“I have no greater joy than to know my children walk in truth.” 3 John 1:4
“Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord , and the fruit of his
womb is his reward.
“As arrows are in the hands of a mighty man, so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them....” psalms 127:3-5
- from Michelle's amazing mother Pat
The first time a mother discovers that she will be bearing a child. It all begins then as she murmurs the words, “Mommy, Mom, Mama” over and over, imagining how they will sound coming from my child’s lips someday. It begins to become a reality as she folds and unfolds the little shirts and nighties, imagining the tiny soft body that will almost fill them.
It’s the long wait, anticipating what he/she will look like. What color of hair eyes.
Praying every day thanking God for this child on loan.. Praying for health and a safe arrival.
“The Spirit itself beareath witness with our spirit that we are the
children of God.” Romans 8:13
And the prayers continue for ability and wisdom to take care of his/her every need. Is that when Mother’s day begins?
It begins with joyous relief, the the first sight of your miraculous tiny body. and hearing the startled, robust cry--perhaps a protest from leaving the comfort and safety of the womb upon entering into this world and being thrust into bright lights, noise. Mothers day began when I held my newborn to me and nuzzled your soft skin and smells that new baby smell.
Mothers day began when we dress you in clothes that are surprisingly way too big and we prepare to leave the hospital. We take the exciting ride home, knowing we are family now. The sun seems brighter, the flowers more vibrant or the fall leaves display colors of chili sauce rolling down the hills. Could nature be celebrating too as Mothers
Day begins?
The arrival of each infant coming into this world is sacred and unique for each child. Some of you were met by exuberant brothers and sisters, with wide eyes and arms, each wanting to hold you."How come we got the most beautiful baby" and "I get to hold her when everyone gathers around at Church"
Mothers day is celebrated on a lot of “firsts” We record a lot of them. The first real smile (Its NOT just gas!), the first time you recognized me or Daddy and followed us with your eyes, the first time you could hold something in your hand. The first laugh---did we get that recorded? The first teeth, first time you rolled over, or crawled or climbed the stairs...and later trees and the walls! The first steps. The first words, the chattering that eventually made sense. So many firsts in that beginning year of each child’s life.
People sometimes ask me “How did you raise so many children. I reply “On my knees.” With God’s help we made it through...and found joy in doing so.
There were lots of firsts: When Nathan was just learning to ride a bike and would venture near the corner, I commented to your grandmother “It is so fun to see him ride a trike and be a little adventurous, but I don’t know how far to let him go”
She sagely replied, “That will be the case for the rest of your life.”
And so it was. First a trike, then a bike, then a car. How far to let you out of my sight? Then off to college and then the three M’s: missions, marriage. and military. Nervous, but happy for you. And proud.
It was Mother’s day one Memorial Day as I watched my giant of a son in full military dress uniform with unchecked tears running down his face as he listened to “Taps” and saluted the graves of fallen soldiers.
It was Mothers’ Day each time I attended a school play, a program, an award ceremony, a ball game, a wrestling, match, or a concert (especially the solos).
Priesthood ordinations, Young women awards and actually wanting me to go to girl's camp with you......and not being too embarrassed!
It was Mother’ Day when you shared papers you had written, test results and what went on in school. Even the disappointments brought us closer, just by your sharing them. Who could count the numerous conversations? In the car, at the kitchen sink, taking walks, at the beach or jogging.
We didn’t realize we were building precious memories on those Nature walks, hikes in the mountains, Labor Day picnics, days at the beach and road trips. Inside humor and jokes still on file to recall anytime I need a good laugh!
It was joyous to receive the art work that was plastered on the refrigerator and walls. The hand prints
made and framed.
The stories you brought home from school as you sat at the counter eating homemade bread & jam. You brought your friends in, and enlarged our circle. How you encouraged us to take in strays “He’s really a good kid Mom” and “How can we say no, when we’ve been so blessed?”
It was Mother’s Day to watch you participate, in Student government, debate, cheer leading, drill team.
Do you realize it was Mother’s day watching you complete, demonstrate and show 4-h projects of sewing, cooking, bunny rabbits, sheep, pigs calves? The awards and ribbons you received did not compare to the glow inside me and your father.
It was a pleasure making prom dresses and wedding dresses. Etching out a budget in order to go shopping for school clothes and a new notebook. To hurry through prayers, breakfast and then watch you board the school bus , walk or ride to school each year.
The scout badges were a joy to sew on as you earned them. I loved the “Mothers Day” when 4 hungry, dirty boys returned from a 2 day camp out on their own. You had left arguing about something and returned singing and your arms around each other. I’m not sure what you leaned about cooking and nature, but I loved that I saw that you learned
about each other.
No April Fool’s Day does not surpass Mothers Day, in case anyone should ask. But we continue to get some good jokes in. Memories linger of Christmas Eve, with Grandpa Proffit reading from ST. Luke , New Year celebrations, birthday parties with siblings and cousins , Trick or treating with costumes we would make ourselves, Fireworks on July 4th..which was also Lisa’s birthday. Did we realize those were all actually “Mother’s Days”?
I got the honor of helping Santa fill stockings, the Easter bunny hide eggs and the very ditzy tooth fairy try to remember to put money under the pillow. Were those all on a Mother’s day?
Things started reversing. Losing a tooth was as exciting as getting one. Watching you leave home and the extra room and the quiet you left in your wake...now that’s a good Mother’s day!
I saw brothers and sisters sob as their siblings left for college and on missions, ( and then later confiscate some of their belongings.!)
“I’m glad they called you on a mission” you would sing.
Then what were all the tears when 6 huge sons cried uncontrollably as you sang “Armies of Helaman” at Josh’s farewell? That was an awesome Mother’s Day!
Watching my children fall in love and quietly celebrating when they had to dump the poor choices. You all eventually selected someone as you would bring them home to meet us. What gifts those new sons and daughters in law! So many more to love now. And I congratulate you on great choices .
Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies” Proverbs 31:10
Each time one of you got married, each brother and sister and their families came to help celebrate. What a joy to see tall handsome sons and beautiful daughters lined up at the solemn ceremonies and to feel Nathan's presence there too. What joy on those special "Mother's days.
And now the numerous births of grandchildren and watching the cycle repeat over and over, a most precious Mother’s day present is watching my children love each other and their own families as they teach their children. My constant gift is the wonderful awe of each new child, and all their firsts. Thank you thank you for sharing them with me, bringing them to my house to play with the dress up, to play tennis, to read or enjoy the hot tub and the beach. they bring their poetry and stories,and music. Thanks for sending pictures and posting their events on the face book and My family.
Thanks for moving over and allowing us to come to your house for those baby blessings, baptisms, sporting events, concerts, plays,graduations, or just for the fun of it.
Phone calls, cards, are marvelous. I thrill when a grandchild calls or writes a note. It’s Mother’s day again when my beautiful, strong daughters call to talk about everything and nothing? Just girl talk.
Some time ago, one of you protested , “Why is there a Mother’s Day and a Father’s Day, but no “Children’s Day” ?
I passed on the answer my mother gave me. “Every day is Children’s Day!”
I’m reconsidering that answer. I guess everyday is Mother’s day. It begins on a first and continues on and on . The ‘first’ seems to come more often now a days.
“I have no greater joy than to know my children walk in truth.” 3 John 1:4
“Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord , and the fruit of his
womb is his reward.
“As arrows are in the hands of a mighty man, so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them....” psalms 127:3-5
- from Michelle's amazing mother Pat
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Ironman! a Volunteer story
Friday Night Bill and I camped out at Sand Hollow Resevoir so we could make it to the 4:30am meeting for the Swim support. We slept like crap - music echoing off the hills from those at the Bike racks keeping an eye on the security for millions of dollars of Bike equipment. So our alarm going off at 4:15am was like... pain... real pain. But I was excited to get in the water and be a part of this amazing day around so many amazing athletes.
at 6 ish we were loading our kayak into the water to go get in place. the sun was not yet up but just a tiny bit of light trying to peak over the hills. I was surprised to find out the water was warmer than I expected. in fact I was expecting to be freezing. I wasn't!
What a GORGEOUS morning. Blue Water, Blue skies, Red hills and sand...
Bill and I were situated in a 2 man kayak on the east side of the island about 3/4 of the way through the Water course. Bill was designated section leader of Section E on the swim. So we got to boss people around - another favorite pastime.
I was impressed as I watched the swimmers go by - first the Pros... speechless... amazing...
I suck at swimming.
so watching these guys hardly lifting their heads out of the water and going in a straight line...
A M A Z I N G...
cuz I suck at swimming.
Last time I tried to swim at Sand Hollow to "try and train for a triathlon".... I sucked. I basically got in the water and shivered and swam about 10 yards and got out. and I NEVER could get myself to put my head under water.
So, yeah... watching these guys swim this strong for 2.5 miles. I was impressed.
Not much to do on kayak support on the back side of the race for the pros and the people in the first half of the race. they are strong and steady and not needing much support.
it was the second half that things get exciting for water support - at least where we are placed in the water. I hear the Starting line area gets a lot of action with water support. but we don't get a lot of action until the ending half.
We only had to have one man hang onto our kayak and work out some cramps.
They are allowed to hang onto to the kayak as long as we don't go forward. If they come out of the water they are out of the race.
I know of about 7 people who ended up being pulled from the water. I heard Last year it was around 30 people pulled out of the water.
Some were just too cold, some too cramped up, some just exhausted already. It's a combination of the water temperature, the adrenaline and the exertion they put in that puts their lives in danger in the water.
I have OOODLES of respect for anyone who can finish even this much of the race.
In case you were wondering - the Ironman is a 2.5 mile swim, then a 112 mile bike ride then 26.2 mile run. - pretty stinking tough to do anyone one of these alone much less back to back.
When I was at the grocery store getting some food to pack for the campout, the checker asked me if I was doing the Ironman. "Oh yeah, I am SOOOO doing the ironman!" hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa ha haaaa ahhhhhhh....
well not this year or the next anyway.
I just want to LOOK like I could. :)
One of the Hardest parts of the Ironman on the Swim support side for me was the very very tail end. there were about 4 swimmers at the end we were worried would not make it.
At this point there is enough kayak support for each swimmer to have a full support fleet for them. so Bill and I and another 2 man kayak teamed up to keep "Joe" (don't know his real name) going the right direction and motivated. It's pretty easy to get going completely off course and course correcting takes a lot out of a swimmer if they have to do it over and over. some swimmers actually swim twice as far as they others because of the distance they spend going off course and having to correct.
so "joe" had a kayak on either side of him keeping him pointed in the right direction. He was shivering and struggling. There was a moment when I really thought he would give up and ask to be pulled out. But he didn't he kept trying. His mind kept telling his body he could do this. At one point he was so weak his swimming form had him moving backward instead of forward! I have no idea why. (but then again - did I tell you I suck at swimming and would not make a great swim coach?)
When I saw the look of frustration and renewed determination in this guy's face, I realized he was not going to ask to be pulled out of the race and it was now our job to give him as much support and encouragement as we could. so I pulled out my bootcamp trainer hat (not really - it's a metaphore) and we all started cheering this guy on - counting down the time - telling him how much further he had - yelling at the top of our lungs:
"COME ON"
"YOU'VE TRAINED FOR THIS"
"YOU CAN DO IT"
"PUSH HARDER"
and all the other stuff you tell a woman in labor... :)
Once again my 4 years of High School Cheerleading were useful.
I was emotionally invested in this guy's success.
We were about 100 meters from the finish line and their was 2 minutes left. His pace was going to have him just missing the cutoff time. I wanted to cry.
It was all I could do to keep from jumping in the water next to him and swimming to the finish with him. (but then they would have had to pull me from the water and waste the kayak support on me instead.)
When "joe" finally made it out - he had missed the cuttoff by a minute. right along side him was a woman and they were told at the same time as they were wrapped in a blanket that there were not going to be able to continue the race.
I wanted to hug him. so I did.
He looked dissapointed and relieved at the same time. I imagine he must have felt proud that he pushed through a tough swim that at midpoint none of us (and maybe him too) thought he would finish. I also imagine he must have been happy that he wasn't going to have to get on that bike and ride over 100 miles and then run a marathon. He looked exhausted. I was proud of him. I didn't know his name or where he was from or anything about him. But I felt like I knew him. And I was proud of him.
This portion of the race and my volunteering was over.
So we got on some SUP (Stand Up Paddle Boards) and played around for a few minutes before we headed back to our tent to warm up and nap before the second round of volunteering/playtime at the Ironman.
I went home for a few hours to play with my kids and kiss them all before I headed out the door at 5:30pm to got to run aid station support from 6pm - midnight. I was so excited for this portion of the race. I knew that the elite/professional athletes were done before I got there. The winner finished before 3:30pm.
(a side note: it's so weird differentiating the athletes as elite/non-elite. They are all amazing and elite in comparison to me. BUT - I have no idea what to call the FREAKS - I say that lovingly- who are in the first 50-100 or so finishers. other than superhuman elite. so I will just call them the "elite" to make it easier.)
For those of you who have to deal with St. George traffic on race day every yea all day or all weekend - I pity you. It took me FOREVER to try and get to the area of town I needed to be in to park and then walk over to the aid station. so many detours and roads closed all over the place. I thought I could cut over here - nope. try this route - nope.
I finally had to give in and follow the traffic to Bluff Street and then went to the church parking lot before walking to the aid station.
I went by myself this time. Bill decided to stay home with the kids and recover from no sleep. Me? I am a freak when it comes to a good party. I was ready to be up all night dancing with a crowd. - that is where my "eliteness" kicks in. I outlasted Bill and I was ready for a second round.
Apparently the aid station I had signed up for had been moved.
I walked over to where it was supposed to be.
I had signed up for aid station #11 - the theme they chose was HIPPIES - you know, Peace, love, beads etc... So I was all dressed the part and ready for some hippie love.
I found aid station #6,7,8,9,10 and then 12? what? where was 11? I walked back up the hill to number 6- they said go back down and told me where it should have been - between numbers 10 and 12. NOPE. I walk up the side street where all the runners were going up a hill and was hoping for an aid station there. NOPE. I walked back down the hill. I was really feeling for the Ironmen at this point. I was in a pair of sandals - I took them off since they were hurting my feet and now I was barefoot walking alongside the ironman athletes who for the most part were walking at this point as well. I had not swam 2.5 mile or rode a bike 112 miles. I had walked only a couple of miles (barefoot) up and down this hillside in the 90 degree weather and I was starting to get tired. I could see why this St. George Course was considered a tough ironman course - lots of Hills... I got to walk them barefoot.
I finally decided to settle onto aid station 12. I was done looking for my people. They would just have to miss me. SO - I was dressed in Hippie attire and hanging out with the Cowboys at the western themed aid station. They had country music playing when I got there - not my faves from the 60's and 70's. so... I was a little sad.
But I jumped right in. This group did have free dinner for me - grilled on the spot hamburgers. Yeah! I was freaking STARVING!
So this is where I stayed for most of the night. I didn't know a soul at this aid station. This is the first Ironman aid station I had ever volunteered at. I had done other aid stations elsewhere - but this was awesome! what a party. I am not a huge fan of the country western theme - But these guys knew how to make it a PARTY!
We handout out water, ice, cola, wet sponges, etc...
I have a thing about music - it has to be right. the right speed is critical especially when you need some energy to keep moving.
So - this guy - older guy - nice guy - at the aid station decided he didn't like the hard thumping rythyms of Kid Rock and "I'm a cowboy" and other Hard rock Style country music. So he puts on "Hey Jude" like 5 times... uh.... yeah.... nice guy... not a great running song.
I jokingly said something about it to him.
Me - "do you ever go running with music?"
Him - "Hey Jude is a great song."
Me - "I'm not saying it isn't, it just doesn't have good running beat. I love this song but it doesn't really pump you up."
Him - "well most of them are walking right now anyway."
Me - "yeah... well..."
I think I lost. He played it 5 more times. Maybe he didn't like me more than he liked the song. Not sure. I needed some hard thumping dance tunes.
Around 10pm I was chatting with some guy in a golf cart about my aid station dilema and he tell me aid station number 11 was moved and he could take me there.
YAY!
I would get to see my Friend Michelle Sullivan and her crew. so I quietly ditched aid station 11 and "Hey Jude" and went up the hill to the Hippies.
NOW the party could start!
Enter the dance party til midnight...
Ok...
so we were dancing and singing and the music was loud and hard - they way I like it.
I was with an old friend and finished off an evening having a great time. AND my outift was right finally!
Around 11:30 the runners were few and far between. but we would have one here and one there still struggling to finish this race.
We would cheer and High Five all of them as they passed our aid station.
midnight - still 4 runners out there and the race was called. they would not even make it to aid station 11. I am not sure how many other runners were passed our aid station and in town trying to finish. One was 2 miles away from our aid station. I was torn up about having to turn off the music and leave when one more person was out there and needing all the support they could get. But technically - the race organizers wanted them to get off the streets. I did decide to leave. I got in my car and drove into downtown St. George to see the finish line. I actually had never seen it before. most everyone was gone when I pulled into town. There was the clean up crew and few devoted friends of runner still trying to finish the race they started. I saw a couple of guys standing next to the finish line. I asked if they were waiting for a runner they knew. nope. they were just there at the end to cheer on the last of the last of the athletes and this was their favorite part of the race. ME TOO! It is those who have persevered through unbelievable trials along the course and finished even when they are told they do not get honored by the crowd, press, medals, and accolades - they finish anyway. These are my heroes! So I stood on the finish line with these 4 other guys as the clean up crew were tearing down the archway. we saw someone coming in and we cheered as loud as we could. His pace picked up just a tad and he crossed that half torn down archway with the cheers of just 5 people. I wanted to cry. I am that way.
I chatted with these guys for a few minutes and then there was another runner - these people were alone. No family, no other support and no crowds. but they finished!
I think one of them was foreign and must have come a great distance to be here as he spoke very little Enlgish and looked like he wanted to say something to us there - but instead just in an accent I couldn't place said "thank you." It meant the world to me. I told these men I was cheering with I wanted to cry. They laughed and said "Ya, I know huh?"
It was nearly 1:00am I had a family and husband at home. I hated leaving but knew I had to. The race day was over for me. and I loaded up on Mountain Dew and Chocolate at Maverick and pumped up the music for my 30 minute drive home alone in the dark.
It was good to be home with my husband who had waited up for me.
Some things that impressed me while volunteering - ages - sizes and types of athletes.
There is a "type" that you expect to do this race. The majority fit that type - strong - lean - tough warriors - men and women = ages 20-40
But the others were refreshing - The older athletes some looked like they may have been pushing 70 or more!
The Larger athletes - I saw 2 at least that my judgmental mind would have never EVER placed them as capable of doing this event - way to prove me wrong you animals!
The Person with the artificial leg - wow.
And so many many many stories for each of them.
If you are like me you may have said "I could never do something like this." But what I love about this is that these people have proven so many people wrong. Because they did do this. Many of the athletes were older than me - by 10 years or more!
I know my friends that did this had once struggled with weight issues and trained hard to lose weight THEN started Triathlon training and THEN decided - WHY NOT?
They remind me - NEVER RULE ANYTHING OUT!
I was able to give my friend Missy (Hyde) Payne a Hug at aid station 12. She looked amazing and left a sweaty mark on my shirt.
I kept looking for my friend Cathy Ford but never saw her. I had decided she must have been one of those FREAKS that finished earlier in the day. I later read on her Facebook thread she had to drop out at mile 70 on the bike course due to heat exhaustion. bummer - but she had a great attitude and plans on trying again next year.
Next year - the whole family will be doing it with me too. It's too good of a party and inspiring event to not be a part of in some small way.
at 6 ish we were loading our kayak into the water to go get in place. the sun was not yet up but just a tiny bit of light trying to peak over the hills. I was surprised to find out the water was warmer than I expected. in fact I was expecting to be freezing. I wasn't!
What a GORGEOUS morning. Blue Water, Blue skies, Red hills and sand...
Bill and I were situated in a 2 man kayak on the east side of the island about 3/4 of the way through the Water course. Bill was designated section leader of Section E on the swim. So we got to boss people around - another favorite pastime.
I was impressed as I watched the swimmers go by - first the Pros... speechless... amazing...
I suck at swimming.
so watching these guys hardly lifting their heads out of the water and going in a straight line...
A M A Z I N G...
cuz I suck at swimming.
Last time I tried to swim at Sand Hollow to "try and train for a triathlon".... I sucked. I basically got in the water and shivered and swam about 10 yards and got out. and I NEVER could get myself to put my head under water.
So, yeah... watching these guys swim this strong for 2.5 miles. I was impressed.
Not much to do on kayak support on the back side of the race for the pros and the people in the first half of the race. they are strong and steady and not needing much support.
it was the second half that things get exciting for water support - at least where we are placed in the water. I hear the Starting line area gets a lot of action with water support. but we don't get a lot of action until the ending half.
We only had to have one man hang onto our kayak and work out some cramps.
They are allowed to hang onto to the kayak as long as we don't go forward. If they come out of the water they are out of the race.
I know of about 7 people who ended up being pulled from the water. I heard Last year it was around 30 people pulled out of the water.
Some were just too cold, some too cramped up, some just exhausted already. It's a combination of the water temperature, the adrenaline and the exertion they put in that puts their lives in danger in the water.
I have OOODLES of respect for anyone who can finish even this much of the race.
In case you were wondering - the Ironman is a 2.5 mile swim, then a 112 mile bike ride then 26.2 mile run. - pretty stinking tough to do anyone one of these alone much less back to back.
When I was at the grocery store getting some food to pack for the campout, the checker asked me if I was doing the Ironman. "Oh yeah, I am SOOOO doing the ironman!" hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhhhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaa ha haaaa ahhhhhhh....
well not this year or the next anyway.
I just want to LOOK like I could. :)
One of the Hardest parts of the Ironman on the Swim support side for me was the very very tail end. there were about 4 swimmers at the end we were worried would not make it.
At this point there is enough kayak support for each swimmer to have a full support fleet for them. so Bill and I and another 2 man kayak teamed up to keep "Joe" (don't know his real name) going the right direction and motivated. It's pretty easy to get going completely off course and course correcting takes a lot out of a swimmer if they have to do it over and over. some swimmers actually swim twice as far as they others because of the distance they spend going off course and having to correct.
so "joe" had a kayak on either side of him keeping him pointed in the right direction. He was shivering and struggling. There was a moment when I really thought he would give up and ask to be pulled out. But he didn't he kept trying. His mind kept telling his body he could do this. At one point he was so weak his swimming form had him moving backward instead of forward! I have no idea why. (but then again - did I tell you I suck at swimming and would not make a great swim coach?)
When I saw the look of frustration and renewed determination in this guy's face, I realized he was not going to ask to be pulled out of the race and it was now our job to give him as much support and encouragement as we could. so I pulled out my bootcamp trainer hat (not really - it's a metaphore) and we all started cheering this guy on - counting down the time - telling him how much further he had - yelling at the top of our lungs:
"COME ON"
"YOU'VE TRAINED FOR THIS"
"YOU CAN DO IT"
"PUSH HARDER"
and all the other stuff you tell a woman in labor... :)
Once again my 4 years of High School Cheerleading were useful.
I was emotionally invested in this guy's success.
We were about 100 meters from the finish line and their was 2 minutes left. His pace was going to have him just missing the cutoff time. I wanted to cry.
It was all I could do to keep from jumping in the water next to him and swimming to the finish with him. (but then they would have had to pull me from the water and waste the kayak support on me instead.)
When "joe" finally made it out - he had missed the cuttoff by a minute. right along side him was a woman and they were told at the same time as they were wrapped in a blanket that there were not going to be able to continue the race.
I wanted to hug him. so I did.
He looked dissapointed and relieved at the same time. I imagine he must have felt proud that he pushed through a tough swim that at midpoint none of us (and maybe him too) thought he would finish. I also imagine he must have been happy that he wasn't going to have to get on that bike and ride over 100 miles and then run a marathon. He looked exhausted. I was proud of him. I didn't know his name or where he was from or anything about him. But I felt like I knew him. And I was proud of him.
This portion of the race and my volunteering was over.
So we got on some SUP (Stand Up Paddle Boards) and played around for a few minutes before we headed back to our tent to warm up and nap before the second round of volunteering/playtime at the Ironman.
I went home for a few hours to play with my kids and kiss them all before I headed out the door at 5:30pm to got to run aid station support from 6pm - midnight. I was so excited for this portion of the race. I knew that the elite/professional athletes were done before I got there. The winner finished before 3:30pm.
(a side note: it's so weird differentiating the athletes as elite/non-elite. They are all amazing and elite in comparison to me. BUT - I have no idea what to call the FREAKS - I say that lovingly- who are in the first 50-100 or so finishers. other than superhuman elite. so I will just call them the "elite" to make it easier.)
For those of you who have to deal with St. George traffic on race day every yea all day or all weekend - I pity you. It took me FOREVER to try and get to the area of town I needed to be in to park and then walk over to the aid station. so many detours and roads closed all over the place. I thought I could cut over here - nope. try this route - nope.
I finally had to give in and follow the traffic to Bluff Street and then went to the church parking lot before walking to the aid station.
I went by myself this time. Bill decided to stay home with the kids and recover from no sleep. Me? I am a freak when it comes to a good party. I was ready to be up all night dancing with a crowd. - that is where my "eliteness" kicks in. I outlasted Bill and I was ready for a second round.
Apparently the aid station I had signed up for had been moved.
I walked over to where it was supposed to be.
I had signed up for aid station #11 - the theme they chose was HIPPIES - you know, Peace, love, beads etc... So I was all dressed the part and ready for some hippie love.
I found aid station #6,7,8,9,10 and then 12? what? where was 11? I walked back up the hill to number 6- they said go back down and told me where it should have been - between numbers 10 and 12. NOPE. I walk up the side street where all the runners were going up a hill and was hoping for an aid station there. NOPE. I walked back down the hill. I was really feeling for the Ironmen at this point. I was in a pair of sandals - I took them off since they were hurting my feet and now I was barefoot walking alongside the ironman athletes who for the most part were walking at this point as well. I had not swam 2.5 mile or rode a bike 112 miles. I had walked only a couple of miles (barefoot) up and down this hillside in the 90 degree weather and I was starting to get tired. I could see why this St. George Course was considered a tough ironman course - lots of Hills... I got to walk them barefoot.
I finally decided to settle onto aid station 12. I was done looking for my people. They would just have to miss me. SO - I was dressed in Hippie attire and hanging out with the Cowboys at the western themed aid station. They had country music playing when I got there - not my faves from the 60's and 70's. so... I was a little sad.
But I jumped right in. This group did have free dinner for me - grilled on the spot hamburgers. Yeah! I was freaking STARVING!
So this is where I stayed for most of the night. I didn't know a soul at this aid station. This is the first Ironman aid station I had ever volunteered at. I had done other aid stations elsewhere - but this was awesome! what a party. I am not a huge fan of the country western theme - But these guys knew how to make it a PARTY!
We handout out water, ice, cola, wet sponges, etc...
I have a thing about music - it has to be right. the right speed is critical especially when you need some energy to keep moving.
So - this guy - older guy - nice guy - at the aid station decided he didn't like the hard thumping rythyms of Kid Rock and "I'm a cowboy" and other Hard rock Style country music. So he puts on "Hey Jude" like 5 times... uh.... yeah.... nice guy... not a great running song.
I jokingly said something about it to him.
Me - "do you ever go running with music?"
Him - "Hey Jude is a great song."
Me - "I'm not saying it isn't, it just doesn't have good running beat. I love this song but it doesn't really pump you up."
Him - "well most of them are walking right now anyway."
Me - "yeah... well..."
I think I lost. He played it 5 more times. Maybe he didn't like me more than he liked the song. Not sure. I needed some hard thumping dance tunes.
Around 10pm I was chatting with some guy in a golf cart about my aid station dilema and he tell me aid station number 11 was moved and he could take me there.
YAY!
I would get to see my Friend Michelle Sullivan and her crew. so I quietly ditched aid station 11 and "Hey Jude" and went up the hill to the Hippies.
NOW the party could start!
Enter the dance party til midnight...
Ok...
so we were dancing and singing and the music was loud and hard - they way I like it.
I was with an old friend and finished off an evening having a great time. AND my outift was right finally!
Around 11:30 the runners were few and far between. but we would have one here and one there still struggling to finish this race.
We would cheer and High Five all of them as they passed our aid station.
midnight - still 4 runners out there and the race was called. they would not even make it to aid station 11. I am not sure how many other runners were passed our aid station and in town trying to finish. One was 2 miles away from our aid station. I was torn up about having to turn off the music and leave when one more person was out there and needing all the support they could get. But technically - the race organizers wanted them to get off the streets. I did decide to leave. I got in my car and drove into downtown St. George to see the finish line. I actually had never seen it before. most everyone was gone when I pulled into town. There was the clean up crew and few devoted friends of runner still trying to finish the race they started. I saw a couple of guys standing next to the finish line. I asked if they were waiting for a runner they knew. nope. they were just there at the end to cheer on the last of the last of the athletes and this was their favorite part of the race. ME TOO! It is those who have persevered through unbelievable trials along the course and finished even when they are told they do not get honored by the crowd, press, medals, and accolades - they finish anyway. These are my heroes! So I stood on the finish line with these 4 other guys as the clean up crew were tearing down the archway. we saw someone coming in and we cheered as loud as we could. His pace picked up just a tad and he crossed that half torn down archway with the cheers of just 5 people. I wanted to cry. I am that way.
I chatted with these guys for a few minutes and then there was another runner - these people were alone. No family, no other support and no crowds. but they finished!
I think one of them was foreign and must have come a great distance to be here as he spoke very little Enlgish and looked like he wanted to say something to us there - but instead just in an accent I couldn't place said "thank you." It meant the world to me. I told these men I was cheering with I wanted to cry. They laughed and said "Ya, I know huh?"
It was nearly 1:00am I had a family and husband at home. I hated leaving but knew I had to. The race day was over for me. and I loaded up on Mountain Dew and Chocolate at Maverick and pumped up the music for my 30 minute drive home alone in the dark.
It was good to be home with my husband who had waited up for me.
Some things that impressed me while volunteering - ages - sizes and types of athletes.
There is a "type" that you expect to do this race. The majority fit that type - strong - lean - tough warriors - men and women = ages 20-40
But the others were refreshing - The older athletes some looked like they may have been pushing 70 or more!
The Larger athletes - I saw 2 at least that my judgmental mind would have never EVER placed them as capable of doing this event - way to prove me wrong you animals!
The Person with the artificial leg - wow.
And so many many many stories for each of them.
If you are like me you may have said "I could never do something like this." But what I love about this is that these people have proven so many people wrong. Because they did do this. Many of the athletes were older than me - by 10 years or more!
I know my friends that did this had once struggled with weight issues and trained hard to lose weight THEN started Triathlon training and THEN decided - WHY NOT?
They remind me - NEVER RULE ANYTHING OUT!
I was able to give my friend Missy (Hyde) Payne a Hug at aid station 12. She looked amazing and left a sweaty mark on my shirt.
I kept looking for my friend Cathy Ford but never saw her. I had decided she must have been one of those FREAKS that finished earlier in the day. I later read on her Facebook thread she had to drop out at mile 70 on the bike course due to heat exhaustion. bummer - but she had a great attitude and plans on trying again next year.
Next year - the whole family will be doing it with me too. It's too good of a party and inspiring event to not be a part of in some small way.
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