Thursday, October 21, 2010

Amateur Ragnar Relay Runner

About a month ago, Scott and I received a random message from our friend Richard. The message was a little hazy, something about late notice, a race lasting 24+ hours, 12 runners, 36 legs, and a reflective vest. Needless to say, we hemmed and hawed a bit. Scott needed to do a single looong run for his marathon training; I planned on going to SunFest in Ocean City with my MIL. It didn't look like it would work out.

The next day we got a desperate text, and before I knew it, Scott committed us to the race in a three-word comment on Facebook (my husband is a man of many words). A week and half later, we found ourselves standing in the chilly morning air of Rocky Gap National Park with a hundred other crazy people. Time flies when you have no idea what you're getting yourself into.

With that as some background, I'd now like to tell you a story. A story of 197 miles, a giant white van, and six people, two-thirds being complete strangers.

First, the van. The back bench was for sleeping (aka my bench); the front bench was for recovery, complete with baby wipes and tennis balls (aka the grossest); the front passenger was the navigator; and whoever didn't fit any of those roles got to sit in the middle. Most notably, the van did not smell good.


The key to this story are the six Dental Runnin' Rammers runners the van carried:


First, Richard, aka "Pepto." Our fearless leader, runner number six, and owner of the much-coveted captain's shirt. I can't think of a better guy to wrangle up a team. He also completely schooled his last leg, setting a PR. 

Then we have Heather, aka "the volunteer." The leader's other half and the only one from our van to take on another leg (our team only had 11 people, not 12, so three people had to pick up extra legs). I'm pretty sure Heather had another nickname, but it escapes me at the moment. Heather was also runner numero uno and rocked it like a hurricane. Basically, she's my hero.

This is Spencer, aka "VERY hard." Spencer was runner number three. The first leg for this runner had difficulty ranked at the hardest level (very hard). To be sure, we didn't forget it. Spencer was also our videographer and drove the giant van like a champ. His past life working for the UPS definitely came in handy.

Now for runner number five - Josh, aka "The Pecerciser." Although the Ragnar had people from all walks of life, most people were pretty hard core (present company included). The hard core dudes typically ran sans-shirt, and not even a blind man could ignore the -1% body fat on these guys. Whilst driving by one particularly cut runner (you could seriously see how this guy's muscles worked. It was like watching a Discovery Channel special on the human body), Josh commented that this was the kind of guy his wife dreamed of. The ultimate pecerciser.

Then there was runner two, Scott, aka "the Hulk." Seriously, you don't want mess with this guy; just look at that mug! Scott's hulk-ability was so intense that not even his own toe nail could keep up. I can't lie, he totally killed it. That black little piggy did not go to market, but stayed home. It couldn't handle the hulk-ness of Scott overtaking the Ragnar.

Finally, there's me, yours truly, aka "livin' on prayer." I was the fourth runner. Right around the beginning of the race, I mentioned we should have a quick prayer. Then just before my second leg (around the o-dark-thirty of night), I asked Scott to say a prayer because I am deathly afraid of the dark. I kid you not, my most-hated household task is turning off the light before bed. My adrenaline rushes like no other, and how do you expect to fall asleep with nerves running like crazy? 

Any way, back on track: my third and final leg comes up, just before the dawning sun. This time, I say a desperate prayer for motivation. Even though I probably (definitely) slept the most (another nickname could've been sleepy - the most repeated phrase was probably "yeah, Mary's still asleep back there"), I was struggling. My mental and physical wills were shot. Six miles and a couple of hills stood between me and the sweet comfort of a very smelly van. Those six miles may as well been 50. 

Yet, I said the prayer and my teammates pulled me through the entire way. God granted me with incredible motivation in the form of five very cool cats. 


The Ragnar is probably one of the coolest things I've ever done. I mean, I've done a lot of cool stuff - like band in high school, or wearing pajamas all day - but this completely takes the cake. While Richard may have gotten other people to do it if we skipped out (actually, he probably couldn't, but nonetheless), I'm glad he asked us. I can't think of a better way to spend a weekend (except for maybe at a spa... but I digress), than with a group of hilarious, supportive, stinky, sweaty, and sleep-deprived friends, both old and new.

So who is in for Ragnar 2011? All the cool kids are doing it (even the ones with their eyes closed; sorry, Rich. It was the only group one I had).



Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Amatuer Dinner Conversation

Talking about one's daily high and low point was a common break-the-ice question asked among BYU co-eds (at least in my day). Answers ranged from terrible exams and over sleeping to gifts of homemade cookies and a sweet new job on campus. I now continue to pose the question, typically around dinner time, mostly interested the daily happening of my family, but also just to spur some decent conversation. While my husband detests it (his low usually consists of me asking the question), I love it. With that, here are a few recent highs and lows:

First, many food highs (shocking, I know!) soft pretzels from work's "Recharge Wednesday" (aka extended cafeteria hours); then a meal which included a french cheese plater, escargot, ratatouille, and creme brulee. Let's just I'm saving up for round two. 


Unfortunately, there was a food low where a terrible raspberry soufflé got even worse when we attempted to save it with chocolate. The pictures are too graphic and disappointing. No one really wants to remember such a sad event.

Moving on with some more highs, not only did I get to visit Panama City, FL (aka heaven) again for work...

...but I also went to see this year's tour of So You Think You Can Dance. I'm thinking the American Idol Live concert this summer was a gateway drug to such behavior. None the less, those dancers are crazy awesome.


Another high was reading Julia Child's My Life in France (read it, asap. France + food + Julia Child = a party in 300+ pages).



The reading low was Diane Rehm's autobiography, Finding My Voice. Diane is one of my heroes, so I had some pretty high expectations. If you love her, just continue listening to her. Do NOT read her. Let's just say a great radio personality does not translate well into great literature. If you've never heard her show, check it out! I promise you, it will not disappoint.

So, what are some of your highs and lows from the last few weeks? I'm thinking my high today is realizing how sneaky I am with this awesome 3-in-1 post. Food, concert, and books all in one night! Aren't you lucky?



Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Amateur Reader

Yes, I know it is the middle of the month. Give a gal a break.

What I read in August:

The Help by Kathryn Stockett and The Kids are All Right by the Welch children.

First, The Help.



The Help has long been on my list - from various good ratings on GoodReads, a great interview with Diane Rehm, and a mention from Scott's cousin last year. I finally put it on hold at the library and am so glad I did.

To answer my friend Allison's voice-mail (also a day late and a dollar short), yes, I would definitely recommend this for book club. I would have loved to discuss this with others! I'll start my review with my favorite quote from the book:

“In the kitchen I fix some grits without no seasoning, and put them baby marshmallows on top. I toast the whole thing to make it a little crunchy. Then I garnish it with a cut-up strawberry. That’s all a grit is, a vehicle. For whatever it is you rather be eating.”

I think this quote is a great presentation of Stockett. She has a few different narrators, all female, but at opposite ends of the southern spectrum at the height of the civil rights movement in the Sixties. One is a single, white, young adult (Skeeter) and the others are older black maids (Minny and Aibileen). The premise is as follows: Skeeter, restless upon college graduation and subsequent unemployment (all resulting in living back home with her parents), approaches Aibileen about helping her write a book. An anonymous book filled with stories from black maids about their experience with various white families, and especially their relationship with their white female employers. Some stories are terrible - always getting blamed for stealing, raising and loving children who are taught to hate these women, etc. However, most are uplifting - most white women realize that couldn't do a think without their help. That their maids are in actuality their cornerstone, their confidants, and a true friend. This anonymous book is a vehicle for their emotions - the stories flow from these women like the milk and honey Moses received in the desert. Some of the stories are topped with ugly, decaying moldy bread; others with the aforementioned marshmallow and strawberries (and a crunch. Every story has a bite to it, to be sure). Each one has it's own flavor and texture. Each woman has her own, unique voice. It is a beautiful story with wonderful characters. Kudos to you, Stockett, for a job well done.

Next, The Kids are All Right




It was okay. I adored Diane Rehm's interview with the all of the kids (another Diane-inspired pick), so decided to see it all for myself. Their story is a sad one - father dies suddenly, leaving his widow with 4 young kids (5 to 16, roughly). Not only does his surprising death send them into a tailspin, but he left them with loads of debt; and they only come to discover that their mother has cancer. She also dies after barely surviving many invasive treatments, leaving them (for all intents and purposes) orphans a few years later. This book captures their look back on those years and beyond, with sections written by each child. It is interesting to look at how the same memories differ, and how each child deals with the situations before them in their very unique and individual way. Liz and Diana are writers by trade, so their portions are more lengthy and better written, but not stellar. It is a quick read, and I am on a huge memoir kick right now, so I liked it well enough. Two stars. If you're running out of things to read, love the eighties and the upper class society of New England, then this your book. If not, listen to the interview. It is a riot.

Happy reading! I've picked up two memoirs again for this month, so be prepared.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Amateur Home Buyer

Back in June, we finally put an offer on a house (after roughly four months of searching). Then we waited. And we waited some more. And we kept on waiting. Then, finally, we heard back (it was a short sale, ironically named for how ridiculously long the process takes). At first, the counter offer wasn't ideal and didn't seem right. But after tweaking some of the terms, it all appeared to work out in the end. It seemed like a no-brainer. On paper, it met all of our standards. Had the right number of bedrooms, bathrooms, and was the right location for the right price. We signed the papers, but didn't send them in right away.

We had to give our final answer of official acceptance on Tuesday.

For some reason, we were hesitant.

We hemmed, we hawed.

And hemmed and hawed again.

Come Tuesday morning, my dear husband says a prayer, asking specifically if we should buy this home.

Immediately I hear "Don't do it."

I'm sure I don't really have to tell you, but that wasn't exactly the answer for which I was looking. I was looking for it all to go smoothly, for this house to be the end of search, the answer to our prayers. I was looking for a reassurance and comfort about this huge decision.

But the answer hung in my mind like a coat in an empty closet. It was obvious. Don't do it.

I told Scott, and we discussed. How did we not receive this answer earlier? How did we feel okay with everything yesterday? Is it just nerves? Why? Why shouldn't we do it?

All I knew was that I couldn't ignore it. I knew our answer. I also knew that if we have faith and follow this prompting, we will be in the right place. While I'm sure everything would have been fine if we just went ahead with this house, it was not the best (or right, for that matter) choice. It wasn't the place for us.

We didn't go through with it.

It wasn't easy, but we gave word of our final decision. After hitting send, I truly felt a burden had been lifted. Instantly, I had zero regret and no second thoughts.

I can't even begin to express the gratitude I have for the power of prayer, faith, the Priesthood, and the Gospel. I am grateful for the promptings and personal revelations I receive from the Spirit. It isn't always easy to listen to the Spirit, let alone be open and aware enough to hear it. I think President Faust describes it perfectly in this latest Message:



I hope everyone can have this kind of experience in their life. What a blessing it is to have this source for peace and guidance.

Let the search begin (again)!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Amateur Pet Owner

Meet my two newest co-workers:

P-nut. He likes to chill.
M&M. He's swims around like there's no tomorrow.
P-nut and M&M.

How these two came about starts with a text I received while on my way to work Monday morning:


LD was our office's pet frog. A colleague brought him in from her home, where she didn't feel like keeping him around any more. We gladly accepted him. Daily, we fondly greeted, loved, conversed, and played with him. He was the first thing you saw on your in to work, and the last on your way out. He never had any thing mean to say, and would always meet your finger tapping on his tank. The perfect little buddy.

With only one little tiny hole for air, we would turn the top of his tank kitty corner (or catty corner, depending on your taste), to give him some more room to breathe. We usually closed it back up at night.

Usually.

Just this past Friday, I was one of the last ones out. In my excitement for the weekend, I totally let LD down. I ignored him, and didn't give him the proper goodbye. If only, then it wouldn't have been his last goodbye! Most importantly that fateful evening, I didn't close up the tank.

We found him between a plant and cubicle wall. Not able to look, a male peer took him to the nearby restroom in attempt to revive him under the faucet. To no avail, we heard the flush shortly thereafter.

We like to think happy thoughts of his demise, that he was trying to get to better places, perhaps to find a friend. We say to ourselves that he must have loved the taste of freedom. Unfortunately for him, that taste contained way more O then H2O. If only he knew, poor little guy.

I blame myself. I feel terrible. I'm a frog killer, people! I opened the door for LD; I was his Kevorkian, if you will. Oh, the shame!

So today, in remembrance of our dear friend, LD, we got a few juniors. This time we went for a pair, hoping they will be happier with a fellow frog around. We also got them a bigger tank (with more air holes - future crisis averted!) and some extra toys - some shells and a barrel with barnacles. I mean, who doesn't love colorful barnacles?

While we are excited for our new friends, they can never truly replace our LD.

You'll be missed, little guy.

--------------------------------------

What was your favorite pet? Have you ever accidentally acquired the title of pet murderer? How did you deal with it? Along with my American Idol Anonymous group, I'm thinking a pet survivor support group might also be in order. Who's with me?

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Amateur Fan

A few weekends ago I joined thousands of teeny boppers at Batlimore's 1st Mariner Arena for the much anticipated "American Idol LIVE" concert.

I have no shame.

This is the first time I've ever watched an entire season, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Additionally, a few colleagues at work followed the show, so we also had some decent water cooler conversation topics ("seriously, what was she wearing?" "holy moly, those blue eyes just melt my heart.").

With the season finale and announced winner just around the corner, we (coworker and yours truly) decided concert tickets were just what the doctor ordered. Floor seats? Yes, please.

A couple of days before said concert we discussed attire options and dreams of getting back stage. We are pretty good looking, mind you. Definitely back stage material.

On the big day, our excitement matched the heat index level (112 degrees, people. I kid you not.). Traffic moved smoothly, parking spot found, and we join the masses of young families and few fanatic senior citizens. We pass by the $4 water and $8 smoothies, the $40 shirts and $35 programs to our seats. Not too shabby, and on the end to the boot! I had no idea what to expect. Some kind of kids bop number with everyone together?

Nope. A number 10 flashes on the screen behind the stage and good ol' Didi comes out singing. I must admit, she sounds much better in person. I must also admit that while I could write up a review of each performer, I know most of you really don't care.

Any way, the performances went on up the line, and most everyone actually sounded better live. Except for little Katie Stevens. She needs a few more years. Or lessons. Or to find herself.

I digress. No reviews, right?

Casey and Big Mike did their "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman" duet. I can see why Kara asked Casey to undress during his audition. Whew! Either my laptop is an oven or... Yep, my laptop is overheating.

TMI. A thousand apologies.

So, I was disappointed that Lee and Crystal didn't do theirs, but oh well. They each did a great job. Unfortunately, I think Lee packed on a few tour pounds. Poor guy.

And of course, THE hat had to make an appearance. How could I NOT wear it for Lee?!

Who was your favorite idol this year? It is okay, you can tell me. I'm thinking of starting an Idol Anonymous group.

Amateur Patriot

Before I left for Utah, I celebrated our nation's freedom and democracy down where the Revolutionary War was won. With my freedom, I first chose a round a golf.

Then went canoeing with the whole family plus one cousin. And by canoeing I mean racing to each end of the reservoir, resting, and racing back. My family competitive? Never.

Then we walked around Yorktown and threw a frisbee. We are all-American, all the way.

The next day, we went back and waited for some fireworks with our dear friends and family. And by waiting I mean playing cards. Competitively.

Then came the big show! Ooooooh. Ahhhhh.

Following the big show, came the big wait, sitting in a big truck bed, while in the big parking lot.

Good times had by all.