Tuesday Night Movie Star

Two days ago I hosted Movie Star Karaoke for the YM and YW at my house. We included the ward we split from last October because our youth group tends to be lean these days.

I decided to avoid any and all skank and try to class it up a bit (I try.)

My secretary, Katie, is a hairdresser and one of her secretarial duties is to fix my hair for such activities. She spent some time ratting, but discovered I have heavy hair, yeah, shocker. So, a ball was placed under the hair in order to achieve the effect. And I walked around with this hair all day, cleaning, driving, digging in the dirt, waving at the passing cars. I'm the neighborhood crazy.



I was Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady. I don't think anybody got it. Maybe no one has seen My Fair Lady. Have you?




















Oh well, at least I still (kind of) fit into my wedding dress.


Good times. Tuesdays leave me exhausted and exhilarated all at once.

Ogden Marathon

The week leading up to the marathon was hard. My neck and shoulders hurt, I felt as if a cold/virus was stalking me, and it was difficult to sleep. In fact, I told a few people that if this is how I could expect to feel right before every marathon, I wouldn't be running any more, I do have a life to live outside of running.


(me in the car, feeling pretty stressed a few days before the marathon)

The truth is, I was sitting on the couch 6 months ago. I was busy and did yoga occasionally, but I really, seriously hadn't really "run" in about 18 years. And the truth really is that as much as I wanted to train hard, my lack of a baseline, and the responsibilities I have on my plate right now wouldn't quite allow it. I kept getting injuries and just felt exhausted. So my training was limited to 2-3 times running every week. Which is fine, but it made me nervous.

Friday, I drove to Ogden in the afternoon with one of my partners, Suzanne. We, of course, got caught in traffic. We finally reached the Expo in downtown Ogden at about 6, and met up with Carina (my other partner) and another friend.



We picked up our packets, walked a few blocks, met my sister, and ate dinner.



We then planned to meet in the Lobby of the Ben Lomond at 4:40 the next morning (the buses picked the runners up at 4:45 outside of the hotel.) I checked into Ben Lomond all by my lonesome (first time) and went to bed. No ghost stories to report, although it is a very old hotel.

I didn't need to be woken by an alarm because sounds of showers woke me at 3:45. So, up I was. I met the girls downstairs, hopped on the bus, and took the long ride up to the start.

By the time we reached the start, it was light, there was frost on the grass and a few thousand people excitedly standing around in a beautiful field billowing with frozen breath. Before I knew it, it was time to strip down to tank tops and skirts and freeze in a huddle at the starting line. With little warning, the gun went off, with barely any detectable movement. As the pack started to thin, I found my pace and settled in. It was chilly, but it was so lovely up on that mountain.

The first 20 miles were pretty effortless and fun. Men flirted with me (no joke), the weather was perfect, and I felt good. I stopped for 3-5 seconds at each aid station, it was my first marathon after all. I felt like a well oiled machine climbing the big hill at mile 14, and smiled for the spectators and photographers that I passed. Once we started to head into the city, it got hot, and I became sick. GU sucks. I had to stop at the bathroom at mile 21, and when I started running again my IT band locked up, but it was OK. Around mile 23, my brother Tim jumped in and pulled me along for the last 3.2 miles. My family was waiting for me right around there and those last 3 miles were the longest of my life but I finished in 3:43! My first marathon after only 6 months of training and I qualified for Boston. Yea, for me!



I'm pretty happy. I'm so grateful for my training partners, they listened to a lot of complaining and saw me through. Life isn't bad when you have the support of great friends, a good husband, and children who think you've won.

Count Down

The Ogden marathon is on Saturday. And if it wasn't enough that I'm already freaked out by all of the "professional"advice that says no, you cannot train for a marathon and not get hurt without some sort of baseline(I truly was sitting on the couch 6 months ago), my secretary just informed me that the hotel I am staying at the night before the marathon (The Ben Lomond) is haunted.



Now, I'm really not afraid of much. I love snakes, I can catch them and cradle them in my arms. I am Friends with spiders, we happily cohabitate. I've been known to rescue mice from a cat's paw (I am aware that I am a super freak.) And I am fairly assertive and unfortunately, sometimes confrontational.

But I am very afraid of cohabitating with dead people.

Of course I googled the hotel and found out, yes, it is haunted. In fact, ghost hunters regularly check into one of the "haunted" rooms. Great. Just what I need the night before 26.2 miles. Hope they have a mini bar. Just kidding, maybe.

Anyway, it should be a party. Actually I'm excited along with being nervous. I have run 23 miles, and although it was a long way to run, I felt pretty good and was able to finish in under 3 and a half hours. And the course of the marathon is quite pretty.

While training, I usually don't listen to music. It's nice to talk to the girls and enjoy a clear head. But I will probably need some music to get me up the hill at mile 14 and through the finish. So, I've been searching online play lists and have had a startling revelation: I am old. And boring.

So I made an Ogden play list from scratch. Here is a portion in case you too are old, boring and afraid of ghosts.

1. Bold as Love (Jimi Hendrix) The guitar is awesome. Plus, some kid skated to it in the Olympics and it makes me feel like a winner:)

2. Celebrity Skin (Hole) The chorus kicks my butt.

3. December, 1963 (The Four Seasons) Yeah, this is a total grandma song, but it makes me happy. I may need some happy at mile 24.

4. Extreme Ways (Moby) I like to pretend I'm being chased by the CIA, it's crazy fun.

5. Feelin' Satisfied (Boston) The lyrics at the beginning are so so lame, but something about the Chorus makes we want to dance up the hill at mile 14.

6. Funk #49 (Joe Walsh) Just cool.

7. It's My Life (Bon Jovi) I used to hate this song, then my dad made it grow on me.

8. Love Hangover (Diana Ross) Don't be fooled by the beginning, it will make you move.

9. Paradise City (G n'R) I did run during the 80's, it's embedded.

10. Sabotage (beastie boys) It does have a bad word, it isn't bad if no one hears that I hear it right?

11. September (Earth, Wind & Fire) Again, happy and free.

12. Slow Ride (Fool in the City) I don't know, I just like it.

13. Your Love (The Outfield) Super lame message, but it reminds me of running cross-country and track and those were good days.

14. Don't Stop Believin' (Journey) Let's face it, I am that small town girl and I intend to be pressing repeat on this a few times during that last mile. Let's hope it's only once, if you know what I mean.



In other news, Lulu had a school program today and was awesome. She has made so much progress this year. I am so grateful for the resources we have and all the people who help teach her.

For My Mother

Last summer we had a party for my mother. I emailed my siblings and my father and asked each to send me a memory or a compilation of short memories which I published into a book for my mother which we gave her at the party.

The following is what I wrote for the book. I love her and hope she has a lovey mother's day.


Vignettes for my mother:

My life as a child, I remember in only still rosy moments- like photographs with gold dust. You were young and thin, with a long black braid or a low twisted bun that would be modestly wound around a simple band of leather pierced by wood. I watched you in wonder; not quite understanding you. There is the memory of you in your own mother’s driveway. You sat halfway in and halfway out of our car prying metal grommets from a tooled leather hair piece. The grommets fell lightly onto the pebbled driveway and I collected as many as I could. Those metal grommets were shiny and fancy to my young eye; yet to you they were silly and frivolous.
I sat mesmerized on the vanity on Main Street. It was a rare occasion; your hair was down and free. Someone had lent you a purple dress with a silver sash. I thought you looked the part of a princess and wondered why you didn’t always embrace this type of “pretty”. And then you were off to what I could only imagine as magical: the golden green ball.
Snow reached my mid-section as I stepped off the deck and drowned in a sea of white. A few feet ahead-barely discernable atop the snow, lay an unblemished lifeless owl. I cradled it in my arms, lamenting it’s death. You taught me to love even the least of these. The owl was beautiful to me; even in death. You wrapped him up and allowed me to take him to school. You allowed for the love of all life.
Stormy grey and golden eyed; the tom cat followed me down the alley. I named him Hearty. Unlike most mothers, you welcomed many a stray into your home. Matted fur, mangy paws--you were not easily dissuaded from loving and sharing. Yours was a half-way house for knocked-up felines. Illegitimate kittens found life under beds and in closets. My innate desire to love and to learn was fostered by your willingness to sacrifice and to share. You celebrate the simple miracles of life. I found kindred spirits in those kitties, and I thank you for allowing me that.
You, have never fallen prey to vanity. I, for some reason, loved the pretty from a very young age. Even in your aversion to make-up, hair-dos, and fashion, you allowed me to be myself and understood my need to “feel” pretty. I sat with you on the couch; you were patiently looking through a fashion magazine with me. I was 15, unsure of myself and regularly insecure. I pointed out a model who I found beautiful. You said that I reminded you of her because we had the same full lips. I’ve remember those words, even in times of feeling unattractive and worthless. It was important to you to make me feel pretty because you understood it was important to me.
I held my new firstborn in a dingy doctor’s visiting room. You looked on, silently encouraging me as I visited with the pediatrician about Norah’s head and while she received her pku pokes. Tired and still building up a lost blood supply, I gingerly redressed Norah. You quickly hugged me and told me that I was a good mother. New to my calling I needed that encouragement from the woman I consider to be the ultimate mother.
You are in almost every respect what a mother should be: patient, long suffering, charitable, kind, encouraging, selfless, resourceful, hard working, gentle, disciplined, loyal, and loving. When friends desert, disappointments come, pain afflicts, and all else fails; my mother loves me. I know this. I dread the day when I am without you; besides the Savior you are the rock in my life. You are true.
I once read in a fiction novel of a woman testify to a grand jury that when asked where she came from, she said she came from her mother. The older I become the more I realize the truth in this; you are where I come from. You are my pathway back always, to home, warmth and happiness. I could not ask for better than you, even if you don’t like red lipstick.
I love you and pray I will be able to follow in your footsteps.

Reconciliation

After 8 long months of Challenger school line waiting, I have perfected my courtesy in spite of misery smile which is brought on by the line waiting inspired brain hemorrhage that ensues in the back of my car. Every. Single. Day.



And, my mind and nerves have evidently been deadened enough to be reconciled to the fact that said brain hemorrhage will continue beyond the short drive home and through lunch.





It is easier to reconcile my life with these crimes when I know that justice is just around the corner. And there is no justice like nap time.