Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable-Spartan Round 3...Part 3 The BEAST!

My "ug" face?

Hey this ain't bad!

Okay so far I haven't talked a whole bunch about the whole "comfortable being uncomfortable"
thing.  Yeah, there were times during the sprint and super in Ft Carson that it wasn't comfortable, there were times you had to push through and just get it done, and sometimes that it hurt.  But where did I have to truly get "comfortable being totally uncomfortable"?  The Beast in central Florida in early December was as much a mental test as much as it was a physical test...and believe me it was a physical test!  The beast is a 13 mile, 26 obstacle test of not only your body but your mind.  I didn't train too much for distance going into it.  I knew I had run a half marathon before and that it was in me to get it done.  I also knew that in typical Spartan form, you'd be running a short distance then stopping for an obstacle.  So not continuous running but short bursts.  You catch your breath at the obstacles.  I'd been practicing the rope but wasn't confident in that.  The rope diameter and slickness is quite the variable.  I hadn't done as much upper body as I should have but I still knew that many of the obstacles were within my reach and that the typical monkey bars, multi rig, and rope climb were nearly guaranteed burpees.  It was going to be a cool rainy day which isn't the best of conditions to run in.  Cool"ish" is good....cool while being wet...not so good especially for the muscles.  Back to the start of the race.

Thanks Spartan for cutting me out!

I got off to a pretty steady start.  Running, jumping over things, crawling under things (oh my the barbed wire crawl was LOW! My new friend Craig and I were amazed at how low it was!) and I was feeling pretty good.  No burpees through the first 4 miles or so...I think.  Bucket brigade was easy-nothing is as hard as Carson was!  I had a scary moment on the tyro traverse.  First off, the obstacle is much harder than it appears!  I had never done it before but had watched several videos on it and had already decided my approach.  Pretty much you are dragging yourself along a rope for-ever, or for several feet (I don't know how long but it was a long rope!).  You're upside down, hands and legs crossed over the rope, and you're trying to pull yourself to the bell on the other side.  Got going, was okay ish.  I was having to alter my technique some as fatigue set in.  I had gotten about 3/4 of the way across and my arms were pumping out.  Letting go to grab the rope gave me the feeling that the other hand was just going to let go.  But I kept hearing encouragement from others and I was SO close I could see the bell that my stubborn side was not going to let go of this rope.  I got to the end and reached out with one hand to hit the bell and that's when my arms/everything gave up with essentially no warning (because if I had one I'd have let go with my legs first).  Nothing left so I fell straight on my back and it was farther down than I expected and I hit my head on the ground.  That was jarring.  And it ticked me off too because I was so close and now I was evaluating myself to make sure I wasn't too hurt to continue.  I rolled over to my belly and took a moment, or two, or three to make sure my head and back were still in their rightful spots.  Another kind racer stayed with me and helped me up...the volunteer who had been cheering me on was left speechless or frozen, not sure which.  So I got some water and kept going.  My arms were feeling useless, just hanging from my shoulders and I knew I had SO many upper body obstacles to go!  Did my stubbornness just cost me the chance to attempt the rest of the obstacles? Sure hope not.  The next obstacle was the bender which I was able to do no assistance (want to know what these obstacles look like? Tyro Traverse Bender) But I used up even more of my upper body strength by then.  I got to Twister as it was starting to mist.  I had done this one in CO but I slipped right off as they were wet and my arms were toast.  30 burpees.  One log carry down and then it's on to the Z walls.  I tried it twice, only because each time I made it almost to the end and slipped off.  30 burpees.  After the stairway

obstacle and a few more carries, I was starting to cramp in my hamstrings some.  Nothing bad...yet.  I got to the monkey bars and made it 2 rungs from the end and slipped off.  I was so sad and happy at the same time.  That was BY far, BY FAR, the farthest I have ever made it on the monkey bars and I had more left in me but it was too wet to grip by then.  Grrr!  30 burpees.  Now my hamstrings are starting to cramp more and more.  Walking didn't make a difference so I continued to slow jog.  Might as well get this over quicker!  I think by now it's mile 10.  I got to the spear throw and really was cramping as I waited in line.  I broke the rule that all moms tell their kids...don't take drugs from strangers! Haha.  A nice guy noticed my uncomfortable state and had salt tablets in his bag so I took them.  Sorry mom.  I, for my first time in 5 races, stuck the spear throw with my unconventional technique.  I knew my technique would pay off one of these days.  I was always so close in the past.  The salt tablets didn't really do much for me as I started to cramp really bad...in my groin, both sides. That is the worst pain I have ever been in on a race.  Now I'm super uncomfortable and now I need to accept that this is what's going to happen for the next 2-3 miles and I needed to get okay with it and find a way to move on.  I was praying, I was cursing, I was willing the pain away but it sucked.  (Although that was only a small preview to what was going to happen AFTER I finished).  After some more walls and carries it was on to the Z walls and Olympus (failed, by this point I'm wet and cool and cramping and it was all about finishing).  60 more burpees (and I had completed those two prior to this race but in nice 70 degree dry weather).  Some mud, some walls, a slip wall and a dunk wall and it appeared the end was near.  Ha!  Spartan said nope, gotta go out for a few more miles.  They strategically placed the dunk wall near the festival area so you saw the finish line but then it cut to the right and took you back into the woods.  More walls (Spartan likes walls), the herc hoist (that one has always been easy), the cargo climb, and then the rope climb.  That rope was thinner and slicker than the one I had at home.  30 burpees.  That would be the last of my burpees though.  Another climb and a fire jump and I was done in a time of 4:16:32.  Respectable, especially for my first beast and in the state my body was in.  After I got rinsed off (damn that water was cold!) and changed, I, unfortunately, really started to cramp in my groins.  To the point I could not stand or walk...however I could cry as I knelt to the ground. (I only halfway kid!)  So while I waited in line for my t shirt, I kept kneeling to the ground.  The only thing I could do to help with the pain.  I got some Gatorade and a banana and bought a much deserved trifecta jacket and then it was a LONG walk back to the car.  I was shuffling and then stopping to kneel ever so often and...ug...man that was a long walk back.  Made it back and put on nice dry socks and shoes and then got ready to go back to the hotel.  I stopped and got icy hot and epsom salts on the way.  I was a mess!  I got to the hotel and could barely get to my room.  Stairs made me cry.  Every muscle was seizing up.  I was hydrated but the lack of electrolytes, the wet and cold, and the numerous walls on the course (if you've done these you'll know the toll it was take to your groin area) were doing me in.  Trust me, I wondered if it was all worth it.  I took a good shower then soaked for 20 minutes or so in epsoms.  Got dressed and headed out to eat with some new Spartan friends and ate a lot of food!  I was actually feeling pretty good till I got back to the hotel and...stairs!  Stairs were the devil.  I bought some ice and took an ice bath (okay, that was also an interesting experience!  Yeouch!)  I was so sore the next morning-my groin, my core, my legs, my body-and spent the day in Clearwater walking the beach, watching the youth beach soccer tournament (did you know there was such a thing?), and sleeping on the beach.  Before you get jealous, the wind chill at the beach was 40 degrees!  I stuck my feet in the Gulf of Mexico which felt nice and warm and then made the drive back to Mulberry.  Monday I headed to Disney World and spent the day in Epcot doing my favorite ride Soarin (twice!) and meeting up with Donica and Emilie.  It was a great way to end the trip!  The 2 hour wait in security at the Orlando airport and nearly missing the boarding call and spilling sprite on my pants and sitting in wet pants for the flight and not getting breakfast that morning?? Sucky way to end the trip so I'm calling the trip over at Disney World.

My new Spartan friends....
While wearing my 4-0 wristband (it's a facebook page I am a part of) I was able to find other Spartan 4-0's and be found by others out on the course so that was super fun.  Craig was a guy I met who's from Maryland and he and I chatted often along the race as I sometimes passed him and he sometimes passed me.  We had quite the time at the barbed wire crawl!  I met Karen on the course and at the restaurant and she was a super enthusiastic presence on the course!  Saw a guy named Ed who I met at the after party in Colorado.  Ate dinner next to a few other young guys with whom I had great conversation.  It's out of my comfort zone to just show up at a place I've never been and meet and greet and mingle with folks I don't know but Spartan has pushed me to do those types of things.  To get out of my comfort zone, to be, at times, completely uncomfortable and recognizing that there was nothing else to be done but accept it and move forward, to try things that scare you because the reward is unimaginable.  I wasn't sure if I'd do a trifecta or even a spartan again in 2018 ($$ reasons)...and then I saw that they are coming to Attica, IN so it's on like donkey kong!  Here's to doing it again but doing it as a faster, stronger, better person than last time.  Until then, Aroo!

Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable-Spartan Round 3...Part 2 the Sprint

 After a night filled with noisy hotel guests in the room upstairs, it was back to Ft Carson for round 2 in the "hills" of Colorado.  There was definitely a feeling of confidence that goes along with knowing exactly what you're undertaking, although I knew exactly what I was getting into and how much some of it might hurt.  The bucket brigade hill and the constant up and down hills would probably feel worse the 2nd day.  What I found interesting was the people I'd be running alongside.  At the super, people were focused, having fun but still focused on the miles ahead.  The sprint was a lot more of a relaxed atmosphere but everyone seemed to be in their little groups that they were running with.  No interacting with others.  It's not that it was anything bad, just a very interesting difference in the atmosphere of the 2 days.  Personally I liked the atmosphere of the super plus I liked that these people were more than likely very dedicated- kind of like the difference between showing up for a 5K and a marathon.  It felt like there were more helpful folks, encouraging words, dedicated racers for the super and the sprint folks maybe weren't as familiar with the incredible atmosphere of Spartans.  The encouragement, helping each other over the walls, giving great words of encouragement as you went along the course are all things that brought me back to running Spartans.  A lot like the atmosphere of camp.  You aren't necessarily trying to outrun the person beside you and you're cheering them on and helping them out because you want them to succeed too!  You want everyone to be successful!  So I did my best to show the folks out on the course the "spartan way".

There were obstacles that were cut out as they shortened the course from 9 miles to 5.  No z wall, fewer carries, but still all the hills, including the one at the end.  Ug!  But that hill wasn't as bad the 2nd day because I knew where it ended this time and in this case, that was a good thing.  However my grip was nonexistent Sunday.  After making it the entire way, fairly easily, on the Twister on Saturday, I barely made it halfway.  The bucket brigade was shorter but a lot more loose rocks as folks lost rocks when they dropped their buckets.  I slipped and ended up with the ugliest bruise on my thigh along with a few cactus thorns in my butt.  Olympus was super tough with my worn out hands and while I made it to the end, I actually whiffed on the bell but they said I made it. ;-)  I  did more burpees Sunday even though there were fewer obstacles.  I failed the same ones as I did Saturday plus the ones for the twister.  I was just too worn out to do it again.  My legs were good...it was my arms.  I knew that was my weak point anyways.

It was another gorgeous day in Colorado and a great day to race.  I was a little slower per mile, mostly due to the bottleneck at the obstacles (another reason I liked the super, fewer racers).  But still a very respectable 2:13:21, still over an hour faster than my very first spartan sprint in Ohio.  Overall, a great experience in Colorado.  I'd do that race again if I could.  Probably won't for at least a year or so...traveling during the late spring is hard with the job but if it lines up with Mother's day again I might.  I got super lucky too with the weather.  It was in the 80's while I was there...and it snowed 2 days after I left!  I came home with 2 medals, 2 hard earned pieces of my trifecta journey.  Now there was going to be a nice break..haha who am I kidding, summer camp was around the corner...but the last piece of my trifecta journey would come in early December.  I got to visit the beautiful Garden of the Gods and the Olympic Training Center before I left for home.  A great trip out west for sure!

Get Comfortable Being Uncomfortable-Spartan Round 3...Part 1 The Super

The title of my last Spartan post was, "Embrace the suck."  That was after running my 2nd Spartan race ever, another sprint in some terrible conditions.  2017 was going to be the year of my trifecta.  So, round 3 of Spartan would consist of 3 races-sprint (5 miles), super (9 miles), and a beast (12 miles).  In May I traveled to beautiful Colorado Springs to run the first two legs of the trifecta-super and sprint- in the Spartan military series at Ft. Carson.  I had never run the super before and now I was not only going to run my longest race to date, but I was going to turn around and run the sprint the next day!  A few of my concerns, besides the obvious back to back days, were the altitude and the hills.  The altitude ended up being a mostly non-factor-tried to drink lots of water and get good sleep.  But those hills during the races were a killer to the ankles.  You kept going up and up and up....then down and down and down on very rocky terrain.  I had to tape my ankles for the next day.  So much strain on them going down the hills.  I'll never forget the worst 2 hills I have ever seen in my life.  The first was for the bucket brigade.  Carry a 5 gallon bucket filled 3/4 of the way with rocks, without a handle, straight up and straight back down.  (I paid money for this??) I saw guys puking on the way up and folks slipping and falling on the way down (I would end up doing that on the 2nd day).  At the end of the race, the only concern I had about the next day was having to do that obstacle all over again.  Thankfully, they didn't make you go up the entire side of the "hill" for the sprint, just halfway.  That day though I stopped to make sure someone next to me was okay and I slipped on loose rock and fell

on a cactus and the bucket of rocks landed on my thigh (now I was the one being asked if I was okay!).  That left a mark.  But back to the hills!  The second terrible hill was the never ending hill right at the end of the race.  You've gone almost 9 miles (not counting the ruck carry, sand bag carry, and bucket brigade miles) and this route kept going up and up and up.  I literally could not see the top and it was just an endless back and forth going up.  That hurt the legs...and the lungs....and the morale.  At the top I can still remember the wind whipping the flags of the Atlas carry obstacle followed by the Olympus (did it), monkey bars (didn't complete that), and finally the fire jump.  I went into the super having never "rung a bell" on any obstacles.  Not all obstacles have bells but some do-rope climb, z wall, olympus, multi rig, monkey bars, and twister.  I was able to ring the bell at the z wall, olympus, and twister-two of those obstacles I had never seen before and I was so stoked to complete them that I was on a high running to the next obstacle.  I almost hit the spear throw each day-one stuck in the wooden frame and the other went in...then fell out.  So close!  Monkey bars and the multi rig are next on the list to conquer.  So is the rope climb but dang that one is hard!  There were several "carries" in this race, especially with it being a military race.  Sand bag carry, ruck carry (I saw those rucks pulling guys backwards), and the bucket carry.  At the end, without knowing what to expect for a time especially with altitude, hills, and the distance, I was super proud of my results.  3:39:38 over an unofficial 9 miles (Spartan only counts the distance between obstacles and not the distance ran while AT the obstacle "funny math"), only failed 4 obstacles (rope climb, multi rig, spear throw, monkey bars-A-mazing!), and hit 3 bells...and I was still alive and walking and willing to do it again the next day.  :-) That night I did something that's a little out of my comfort zone and went out to eat with people I didn't know, racers that are a part of the Spartan 4-0 group.  Had some good food, continued to drink water like it was going out of style (3 times a night to get up to pee might mean I was well hydrated), and then headed back to bed for another race in the morning.  1 down...2 to go!

6 Years

So, first off, apologies to my tiny blog world for falling off the radar and not blogging for the past 10 months.  Oops!  My bad!  I've set a goal to blog at least once a month in 2018...once a week would be awesome but let's set me up for success here at first.  You can hold me to it...at least try to!

Wow.  6 years.  6 years today.  January 2012.  I've written about this before but this still means a lot to me and where I am now in my life.  I had had surgery on my foot in early January to take out a growth on my nerve that had occurred due to an injury.  I had spent a few years hurting going to different doctors and getting wildly different diagnoses.  I couldn't run, didn't walk without pain.  I thought that this was how it was going to be...forever.  This surgery was going to finally get me back doing all the things I had given up doing. But about 3 weeks after surgery I got an infection and with it a lot of pain and fears.  I definitely was fearing the worst case scenario when I went back to the doctor. Would the surgery that was supposed to give me back a pain free foot going to turn around and possibly take it all away from me?  The sleepless nights when the painkillers didn't work.  The worry that I had to combat and ask God for peace when I had none, trust when I had little, and healing.  This all took place within the matter of 4-5 days (the worst of the infection) but it might as well have been a month in my mind.  But I don't write this to talk about what did happen or what could have happened.  I write this because of what happened afterwards.  This "gift" wasn't going to be wasted.  Another chance to do things I wanted to do, even though I didn't know I wanted to do them yet!  

Later that same year I did my first Warrior Dash and did 5 more after that.  I have run a half marathon.  I have done 5 Spartan races and earned a trifecta.  For every single one of these races, this event, January 2012, has been on my mind at some point.  It's usually in the form of, wow, look what I'm doing now!  And to think I almost couldn't do any of this again.  I almost broke down in tears as I hit mile 12 of the half marathon when I was so overcome with emotion.  Emotions of gratefulness, of thankfulness, of gratitude.  I learned to not take any of what I was doing for granted.  In the grand scheme of things, this was a small event.  I was never in any life threatening situation but I still came out of it with a changed perspective.  Don't take any of it for granted.

Mrs. B!

I was out buying a baby shower gift the other day and it was requested that you bring a book signed by you for the baby.  My "go-to" book for these kinds of occasions is Dr. Seuss' "Oh the Places You'll Go!"  Whenever I think of this story, my mind immediately travels back in time to the very last day of high school in Mrs. Brown's English class. I wish I could accurately describe Mrs. B....but I don't think I can.  She didn't fit the mold...she broke the mold.  As I was thinking about her, I thought I should tell the world about her, at least my little part of the world.

Mrs. B was probably one of the most influential teachers in my life.  Going to a small Christian school meant that you had a lot of the same teachers throughout the years.  Often times they taught classes for both 7th graders and seniors.  I had her for 5 of my 6 years on the high school side of the road. Every year, every week, we had spelling and vocab lists.  Thanks to her, I can spell!   Every year, we continued to diagram sentences.  We read books...we took quizzes...we took tests on Hamlet...we wrote haikus and limericks...we memorized and recited poems...we even had to memorize part of the prologue to Canterbury tales (have you looked at old english before?) She pushed and pulled us in every way.  Our senior projects prepared us for college in big ways.  Each of these projects took the whole semester to complete....on top of the weekly vocab lists, diagramming sentences, and weekly readings/quizzes.  (English in college had nothing on this lady!) 1st semester-epic poem written in iambic pentameter and a whole bunch of other rules regarding number of lines, etc.  I wrote mine on Chuck Yeager.   Second semester-thesis driven paper.  I did mine on how the Chronicles of Narnia were written to parallel the Bible.  Notecards, hours in the library, countless outlines, drafts, etc.  Mrs. B was hard...she was relentless...she pushed us....but she wasn't afraid to let loose, grab her "sword" and stand upon her desk as we read Shakespeare.  She read with fiery passion and diagrammed sentences with intensity.  Every January when class resumed, we had to come back with what our favorite and least favorite presents were and she kept a running tally for all grades.  While I will never say that English lit and grammar were my favorite subjects, I will tell you that this was my favorite class.  When I say that Mrs. B broke the mold, I mean that she didn't necessarily fit the stereotype of a Christian school teacher.  She was a woman of strong faith who wasn't afraid to be her.  She was very encouraging of me for choosing to go to a public university and choosing to take my faith to the world.  She pushed us to find who we were, what we liked doing, and to go out there and do it.  So on the last day of high school, when she got up in front of the class to read "Oh the Places You'll Go", and told us to get out there and do good and she started to cry, we knew.  We knew she had been preparing her little birds, all these years, to be ready to fly on our own.  She gave me tools that I still remember and use almost 20 years later. 

 "You're off to great places! Today is your day!" You're off to college, today IS the day.  “You'll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that life's a great balancing act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.” Don't get mixed up with the wrong crowd in college.  "Your mountain is waiting...now get on your way." 

Thanks to Mrs. B I started to learn about getting out into the world, about getting out of my comfort zone, and that I didn't have to fit into some standard mold.  I didn't completely come to grips with the entirety of those lessons until I came to camp and it become real, but I had someone who started that long ago.  You were a heck of a teacher!  Heck, you still are from what I hear!

February 14, 2017

Valentine's Day...2017....a day I won't soon forget.  I have thought about this day every day since then.  I can tell you where I was, how I felt, and what I was doing when I got the news.  Thinking of that day, the emotions flood back, the tears have to be held back, it's like opening a scab on a wound that's still fresh. It's been hard to say out loud...we talk about the "events", the "girls" but it's hard to say it.  To say that Libby and Abby were murdered, that their lives were taken at too early of an age, that some sick bastard did unspeakable things to them and is still out there...I can't say it.  I have seen loss before but never loss that wasn't accidental or due to illness/age.  These lives were forcibly taken by the sick actions of an animal (because whoever would do this has no conscience).

Everything looked different after that...everything felt different...town, people, everything had such a solemn quiet air about it.  When you went into town, the air felt electric, but not in the good way.  News vans everywhere you can see.  You'd see them outside your normal shops but the last thing I wanted was to be stopped and asked about the situation.  It was way too fresh, too raw, emotions were running rampant.  FBI vans, lots of police, lots of activity that this little town has never seen before.  This town was not known before and now will unfortunately be known as a place of tragedy.  As much as the suspect's picture has been featured, once he is caught, I hope his face is not plastered across FB but that we remember the lives he devastated.  He should get no fame, no press from this.  The support from surrounding schools and communities has been amazing.  Sad that it takes tragedy to pull us together despite our differences.  What can happen if we do that more?

When I got the news that Monday evening that the girls were missing, something didn't feel right.  I had the privilege back in 2014 to coach these two young ladies in volleyball.  We were not the most talented group to say it lightly....most had never touched a volleyball in any organized fashion before.  Abby and Libby were always eager to learn.  Lots of life.  Lots of joy.  Honest, good teammates, good friends.  We learned a lot together.  It was my first time coaching...it was their first time in school sports.  I wanted so much to teach them more than just volleyball but about being a good teammate, a good sport.  These kids caught on much more than I ever expected.  We had instituted a "rule" that if you didn't call for the ball during scrimmage, everyone on your "side" ran from mid line to the end line of the basketball court and then back to your spot.  So your actions affected the whole team.  And your teammates held you accountable.  Of course they complained at first...who doesn't?  But eventually they stopped complaining and would just do it when I called out, "No one called!"  But one time....one time....they didn't call for it and I didn't catch it....and they looked at me and admitted, "We didn't call for it." And so they themselves called it out and they ran.  At this moment, I knew they understood.  I was as proud of them in that moment as I was the first time they won a game (and only time!).  The second time I was proud of them was when I realized that we were one point away from winning our first game and I saw that the other team's worst server was up (and she had special needs) and I called time out right away.  Everyone, even my co-coach, was super confused but I explained that, more than likely, that girl was going to miss her serve and we would win.  But I wanted to explain how to be a gracious winner.  We had lost a lot, we hopefully had taught them to lose with grace but now we needed to win with grace as well.  I didn't want them to celebrate and yell because of how that girl would feel...the same way we felt for most of the season.  I sent them back out and reminded them that they could be happy but our celebration would occur in the locker room.  As excited as I could tell that they were, they held their giddiness in and won the game gracefully.  They celebrated like fools in the locker room but that was okay.  Good kids, solid kids, kids I didn't think were capable of running away or being irresponsible.  I had a terrible gut feeling that something wasn't right and I prayed and hoped that I was wrong.  But I wasn't wrong and I wish I had been.  Your heart can break, your heart can heal, but it won't be the same.  God heals the brokenhearted.  Our God is in control.  Our world is evil. But our home is not here. Keep in mind those who go home to an empty room, an empty chair at the table for they will live this over for weeks and years to come.  Pray for justice on earth as I know that justice in Heaven will surely be done.
Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Embrace the Suck-Spartan round 2

About a month ago I participated in my second Spartan Sprint.  After my first race in May, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into and I knew I had to be prepared to be pushed mentally and physically but also knew how I'd feel in the days following the race.  (Read that as..."not so good"!) But it was going to be nice to experience the race with a partner.  So Emelyn and I road tripped down to Atlanta to volunteer for the kids race on Saturday and then run the race Sunday.  It was a much cheaper way to race when you volunteer because you get a free race out of the deal.  We decided that since kids were our specialty, why not volunteer for the kids race?! We drove down Friday to Conyers, GA and got up early the next morning to head to what we would later find out to be the site of the 1996 Olympic Equestrian cross country course.  It was chilly...cold for Georgia...and we met up with some outgoing crazy fun folks and waited for the kids to show up.  Our job was very simple.  Move a ribbon from one side to the other depending on if older kids were coming through (1 mile course) or the younger kids (1/2 mile course).  It was fun to watch the kids and encourage them.  It was cold and the kids had to get wet right off the bat so by the time they got to us, they were wet, cold, and many were crying and shivering.  I felt bad for them but I was also pretty pleased to see that no one was giving up.  They may have wanted to and maybe their parents wouldn't have let them if they tried, but they stayed on course.  A big part of the Spartan founder's ideals is how do you deal with obstacles in your life?  Groan, mumble, complain?  Or run at it, conquer it, embrace the opportunity to become stronger?  Spartan races came onto the scene around 5 or so years ago.  He wanted to push people out of their comfort zones and intentionally put obstacles in their way that they would have to work through.  But let's get back to this particular race.  After eating out at Outback steakhouse and getting plenty of protein (and some carbs in those potatoes!), it was an early bedtime for us.  We'd already napped after volunteering (who knew how tiring that would be?!) but it wasn't hard to fall asleep.  We had decided to choose the early race time the next morning due to the incoming rain.  No matter what, it was going to be a chilly 40 degree rainy day, but might as well get there before the course got too torn up.

When we got to the race, no rain...yet.  As we got ourselves ready and stood in the line up corral, still no rain.  Just before our wave started though, it began to really rain.  So we're wet before we start.  Good old Georgia red mud. We get going at a good pace-jumping over walls, crawling under walls, climbing over round bales, running through the woods.  No burpees yet.  About 20 minutes in we hit the monkey bars...these aren't your average playground monkey bars.  Big bars, staggered up and down, and fairly far away from each other.  I didn't get past the first one when I did my first Spartan and I had been using the monkey bars at camp's playground to practice (however they are much smaller in diameter and close together).  My goal was to do better than last time.  And I was able to make it to the 3rd one...but it still meant 30 burpees for not finishing.  Off to the Atlas stone.  Pick up a 40 pound cement ball, walk it to the other side, drop and do 5 burpees, pick the ball back up and return it.  By now it is so wet and sloppy out.  Off to the mud pits to climb in and out of leading right into the barbed wire crawl.  It was actually a tad bit higher than the one in OH and I could crawl a little easier but once it got too low, I rolled.  And that always makes me SO dizzy...and so sick.  Still feeling pretty good. I wasn't soaked to the bone and freezing yet.  My hands were pretty wet and starting to feel cold but that was it. I think that there were a few walls after that point.  I helped Emelyn up and then I got a hand from other folks.  One cool thing about Spartan racers is that they are totally willing to help one another but will let you have the chance to try it yourself first.  I don't remember all the obstacles but I do remember the cargo net in the middle of the run.  We walked up to a straight cliff and I know that I didn't see the net at first and I was like, "Holy &*% ....how the....?" Oh wait, there's a cargo net.  Emelyn and I started up but there was a lady who was really nervous about going up.  Who knows if it was a height issue or feeling unstable on the net but she wasn't having it.  Her friends had gone up first and she was at the bottom.  Emelyn got behind her and I was beside her and we encouraged her up that net.  She was super excited to get to the top.  Somewhere in the next few miles included a bucket brigade, spear throw (30 more burpees!), and more.  When I got to the dunk wall, that water was so so cold.  It was the first time I was going to get my head wet.  As I jumped in and made my way to the wall, I had a hard time gathering myself to go under the wall.  Once I did, it totally took my breath away....actually took my breath away.  But I also had water in my eyes and didn't have anything clean to them off with and walked around blind for a few seconds until I took the inside of my shirt and wiped my face.  Once I opened my eyes, my contacts were actually fogged up!  That's cold man!  As someone else said, "Now this shit is real!"  Soon after the dunk wall was the rope climb (made it higher than last time! I've got to practice this!)....30 more burpees.  I think that the slip wall was next...no issues.  After that we ran back into the woods, away from the mainstand area.  You know you're close to the end but not too close and now it's all down to grit.
What is grit?  According to wikipedia it's, "psychology is a positive, non-cognitive trait based on an individual's passion for a particular long-term goal or end state, coupled with a powerful motivation to achieve their respective objective."  This is where I started my mantra of embrace the suck.  This was turning into a mind numbing part of the race.  You know it sucks, it hurts, you're cold and you could moan and complain and focus on what's cold/hurting OR you could completely embrace that, of course, this isn't the most desirable situation but you're going to go into it with the best attitude you can muster and tackle the challenges head on, as best you can, and get through it...and smile through it (try it, it works!)  You're sliding down hills, carrying a 20 pound sand bag through a never ending creek that's full of pot holes, your feet feel like concrete weights that hurt with every step, but the faster you do the obstacles and the faster you run, the quicker you get to the other side...in this case, the finish line.  Sometimes in life we need to embrace the suck.  While we won't know the finish line like you'll know during a race, it still helps to embrace the situation and tackle it head on with the best attitude possible.  

I didn't feel the full effect of the cold until Emelyn and I hit the finish line (we raced across!).  After we crossed and they gave us our medals, shirts, bananas, and fit aid, I started to shake.  I couldn't wait to get warm clothes on.  I tried to rinse off but couldn't and just went in to the tent to change.  I could tell that mild hypothermia was setting in because cognitive function was not so good....Emelyn can attest to that. ;-) haha  After getting dry clothes on (but unfortunately I had brought sandals to wear back to the car....my feet were not in good shape by the time we got back!) we went into the med tent to get blankets and try to warm up some.  After 10 minutes there, we had to walk the MILE back to the car.  My feet were hurting so bad...it was still raining...but finally....we get back to the truck.  First step, warm truck up!  Second step, dry feet and put them into some warm socks.  We waited there for a while to warm up and process everything.  Despite the frigidness of the day though, it was a great race!  I ran it MUCH faster than my first one (1 hr 55 min), I did 1 less set of burpees, and even though I still failed a few obstacles, I got farther on them.  It was after this race that I decided to pursue a trifecta in 2017.  That means that I will attempt to run and complete each of Spartans race distances-sprint (3-5 miles), super (8-10 miles), and beast (12-14 miles). I have committed to the Colorado weekend in May over Mother's Day-a super on Saturday and the sprint on Sunday (I'm going to be in a world of hurt!) and then the beast in Central Florida in December.  Aroo!

Volleyball and Fall

Oh my goodness...the end of October is here and I can't believe it.  Summer camp ended the second week of August and we seamlessly flowed right into volleyball (like the Monday after).  I coached a 7th grade team out of Carroll.  They were pretty fun group of girls.  This was my 3rd year of coaching.  The first year I coached a 6th grade team out of Delphi.  Those girls knew nothing and at least we won a game during our season! ;-) After that season, I got "recruited" by the head coach at Carroll to come coach his 8th grade team that, in his words, would be lucky to win a game.  They weren't the most talented of teams but there wasn't much drama and they had pretty good attitudes.  So between those two teams, we had 5 wins and an unknown number of losses.  I shifted down to 7th grade this season and I had a group of kids who had played some club ball and had talent.  They were also probably some of the squirreliest kids too.  Lots of head shaking, shoulder shrugging, and times I just went, "I don't know" went right along with times of great joy and pride in how they handled tough situations.  7th grade is definitely a hard time in life.  It was definitely one of the hardest years of my life growing up.  Kids are trying to find themselves, handle their peers, handle disappointment and challenges.  I had to bench some players, deal with some poor attitudes, and handle parents who were, well, interesting.  But despite all of that we did well!  We won 2 tournaments and ended up 15-2 on the season.  It was a long season, lasting till the middle of October.  There were games we cruised to victory, ones we eeked out despite playing poorly, and then those 2 pesky games where we were simply outplayed by better, much taller, kids.  And boy was I glad when it was over.

Unfortunately throughout most of this fall I was dealing with being sick for a majority of the time.  Right after labor day up until a week or so ago I was dealing with a persistent cough.  First I started off feeling fine and just had dry coughing fits now and then until a week or two later I was really starting to feel the strain of it.  Being woke up in the middle of the night, coughing so hard my ribs hurt, and just feeling poorly until finally after a month of this I went to urgent care, was diagnosed with tracheobronchitis, and given a host of medicines and an inhaler to deal with the wheezing.  I tried to hide not feeling well from others.  I tried to not complain about it via facebook or anything else.  But due to not feeling or sleeping well, I found myself being, well, quite pissy about anything and everything and wanting everyone to leave me alone, not by telling them but by not being in a good mood.  And I didn't want to fake being in a good mood either.  I was content being in a bad mood because I felt bad.  But the whole point of this is not about what I just said, but that I had the realization midway through this that 1) there are people out there who are feeling much worse and for much longer 2) their illness wasn't guaranteed to go away and 3) their attitude was much better than mine.  Could I have their same attitude in their situation?  I don't know really.  I'm thankful now to feel much better (minus the ribs...no confirmation but I wouldn't be surprised if one had been cracked from the force of the coughing).  I'm thankful to be able to run now after not doing so since early September.  I'm thankful for health and strength.  I hope if the situation were to ever arise, and I surely hope it doesn't, that my attitude would be so much better, so much more positive, and with much less grumpiness.  My situation was no where near what some people go through for months and years.  So lesson learned.  I got it.  Glad it's over.  :-P  Now to enjoy my favorite season of the year!!!

The Empty Finger

Now before I go too far down this road, let it be known that this is not supposed to be taken as complaining or a pity party...just thoughts and feelings....

The empty finger?  Which finger is that?  It's the ring finger that is as bare as the day I was born 36 years ago.  Most of the time I'm content to be single, to be free to take off at any moment, to be there for others when they need it.  Sometimes though, I think it'd be so nice to have someone by my side to enjoy this life with.  To go on a trip and have a companion to enjoy the time with.  That has been on my mind recently.  I had the opportunity to be able to take off for a few days this week but I chose not to.  I had a few places I wanted to go but I didn't want to go solo this time.  I've been on many a trip solo and thoroughly enjoyed myself-Traverse City, Anaheim, and several national parks. As much as I enjoyed those trips, I found myself, from time to time, wanting to turn to the side and say, "Hey, how beautiful is that?" But there was no one there.  Those times were great as they allowed me to reboot and get away and get refreshed.  But this time, I chose to not go anywhere.  To stay home, sleep, and do nothing while here.  That however has been nice in its own right. ;-)

Singleness is both a gift and a burden.  I love being single but there are times, occasionally, that I wish I weren't.  That there was someone to share this crazy ride call life with.  I know that being in a relationship is hard...it's not easy....it requires selflessness, time, work, dedication, and more work. Being single, you don't have to worry about any of that.  I can choose to do something...and I can choose not to...something that's not a guarantee with someone else in the picture. At this point, I don't know if there will ever be someone to share this ride with and the choice to be content is a daily one, although I'm human and it doesn't mean I can have wishes of my own.  As co-workers announce pregnancies and engagements, I honestly find it hard to wish them congratulations because it's a reminder.  It's not that I'm not happy for them, but it's a vivid reminder of what I don't have.  Here's my announcement...nothing's changed.  I'm still single and solo.   Just thought you might want to know.  ;-) For now I guess I'll continue to be a 3rd wheel with my married friends.

Heart Warming Moments...Camp Style

There's been a lot of heart warming moments lately, moments that make me so glad to have the job I have.  It's an extremely tough job that takes its toll physically and emotionally.  I'm both glad and sad when it ends.  The hard daily work lessens a bit but not having the kids around makes you sad at the same time.

Last week there was a camper who was so excited to take Farm Discovery clinic that he brought overalls and mud boots with him.  I mean, how cute is that!!!  It made me so happy that our animals mean so much to others.  By happy, I mean I had legit tears.

This week I have a camper that, for whatever reason, gets along with Clifford in such a way that he is the happiest horse out there.  He's been a little reluctant to move lately and takes much encouragement from us as the instructor.  We walked into the arena yesterday and after little Amelia gets on and walks around a while, we decide to get ready to trot and I get ready to help her along.  Much to my absolute delight, he picks up the trot right away and is licking his lips the entire time, meaning how much he is enjoying his rider.  Little Amelia knows little about horses and I don't know if she totally understood my excitement but I think she understood enough that it was a good thing and it had to give her confidence.  I mean do you see the joy from this child just pouring out of her?!

Last week I had the opportunity to hear about a couple of my counselors who are getting what camp is all about.  They are letting God work in them and through them.  Through the hot, weary, exhausting days they are taking the time to intentionally connect with children.

And lastly I got an email from a parent that summed up in words the feelings I've been having lately.  I've had a lot of horseless horse fanatical kids this summer.  They know very little but their passion is there. I had been wanting to encourage my counselors to keep speaking instruction in love and patience, even though they've been saying the same things for 7 weeks already.  I wanted them to remember what it was like to be a kid and have an obsession with horses but to live in suburbia and have no outlet.  Your excitement and joy is there but the knowledge and ability is not.  Patience is required so you don't squash their enthusiasm but as you instruct, don't forget that in their excitement, they won't remember everything.  This parent wrote in about their horse crazy child who was born to supportive parents with no horse experience whatsoever and they live in suburbia and how they've been combing through the pictures posted on the website every day and how this upcoming week was going to be almost magical for their daughter.  (No pressure!)  She was delighted that we as staff were willing to share our expertise with campers.  Thanks Mom!  That's exactly what I was trying to convey to my staff.  Way to put it into words!  Trust me, we'll do our very best to give her the most memorable experience ever.  We'll do our best to give her a strong foundation of riding and horse experience.  We'll keep her safe as best we can and help her to have loads of fun.  It's the same thing we try to do every week but you can bet I'll be keeping my eye on her this next week!  To have a mom take the time to write in and encourage us....thanks Mom!!  And there you have it....our end of summer heart warming moments.

"Tecumseh"

I just got home from a closing campfire after the 7th long week of summer camp.  It's hard to believe there are only 2 more weeks left until camp transitions to a whole new routine with it's own struggles and challenges.  As I look back at the summer I wonder where it's gone and at the same time, week 2 seems like a lifetime ago.  So much has changed within those weeks.  The counselors have gone from nervous, wide eyed, bewildered folks into confident, wise adults who have done more and seen more

and experienced more in these past 7 weeks then some people will do in a year, or 2 or 3.  They've grown in their faith, their resilience, their ability to manage chaos and 10-200 screaming campers, and in their ability to connect with, empathize with, and love all who stepped through their doors.  Being a camp counselor is one of the hardest things you will ever do in your life. You will be exhausted, worn out physically, mentally, and emotionally, you'll probably be sick/hurt at some point, and you'll have campers who drive you up a wall.  Yet you will love every minute because camp is, well, camp.  Camp is a place you can know what LOVE is, what UNDERSTANDING takes, what SELFLESSNESS means, and where CARING abounds.  Camp has a lot of things-climbing walls, zip lines, blobs, rope swings, horses, slides-but none of those things are what camp is.  Campers will forget about the activities but they won't ever forget that an adult took the time to play a game alongside them, not be judgmental or put them down just because they are a kid, get wacky with them with no concern of what others might think, to know them, to love them even when they were unlovable, and they will leave knowing that someone cares for them.  And through all of that, camp will teach them that there is One who will forever and perfectly love them for all of their lives.  "God is most important to me, others are second only to him, and I am third."

What is camp?  Camp is all the little things that happen between the big things.  Camp is having a little river village boy come up to the staff table during dinner and have the complete attention of all the staff there as he performs a card trick, much to the bewilderment of all (FYI I'm still baffled).  Camp is about almost crying when you get a friendship bracelet.  Camp is about celebrating life and triumphs that come in all shapes and sizes from getting a blue band after a week of lessons to getting your horse to canter. Camp is sitting down next to a camper who's not even in your cabin and make a connection over a game of checkers.  Camp is about pointing out the awesomeness of others instead of putting others down to make you look good.  Camp is high fiving someone just for making it to the barn on time.  Camp is about the older kids cheering on the younger kids as they attempt a cheer leading routine or hip hop dance.  Camp is playing Flamingo hunter and going absolutely crazy because someone was able to make the ducky into the bucket. Camp is singing at the top of your lungs during Song fest even if you can't stay on key because you want the world to know how you feel about God.  Camp is about being speechless when a counselor gets the "it" of camp and can tell it better than you can.  Camp is where you can live each moment of each day to its fullest.

As I listened to Mike, Heidi, and Jordan play "Touch of the Master's Hand" I found myself thinking so much about my year as a counselor.  Those 9 weeks were the best weeks spent of my life.  They changed me, molded me, grew me from the inside out.  I learned what I was capable of, that it was okay to be the me God created me to be, and to love completely and selflessly.    I remember sitting at closing campfire with my girls each week, truly sad to see it come to an end, singing about an old violin, the spark that ignites the flame, or singing about the love we felt at camp.  It's being hot and sweaty at closing campfire but still wrapping your arms around the person next to you and swaying with the music.  It's giving out hugs to people you barely know.  It's taking the chief's creed seriously even as the whole ceremony might be strange to the casual observer.  It's about crying with your torchbearers who you have only known for a week but you know you won't see them again as campers.  Even now, 13 years later, the closing ceremonies bring up memories and emotions of how powerful that first summer is and how important it continues to be now.

I find it SO hard to explain camp to someone who hasn't gone through it.  Words are hard while emotions are plenty, but if there's one thing that's been on my heart this summer it's that this is for the kids.  Sometimes I do question why I do it over and over and over but I definitely live for these 3 months.  These 3 months remind me why I do it.  We have sleepless nights, long hours in the heat, and countless early mornings over and over so we can make sure that every single child, from week 1 to week 9, feel like they had an experience that was made just for them.  It doesn't matter that it was the 100th time we've done an activity, for that one camper it's their first and only opportunity.  We are here for them, to help them have a better tomorrow.  That's why we do what we do and because of that, we are forever changed as well.

Why are you Running? Are you training for something? Nope, just running....

Now that the weather is getting nicer, more people are out and about as I am running.  I usually try to run when I know no one is going to be around.  Running is a very personal thing for me.  I don't do it for anyone but me and it's my time.  I realize that I live alone and that personal time should be easy but it isn't always.  When you're home, you're always feeling like you need to be doing something.  Chores around the house, catching up on bills, cleaning, etc.  But when you run, it's the only thing you need to be doing at that moment and it's nice.  Now people are coming up to me and asking if I'm

training for something.  Not necessarily (that seems confusing to some).  I'm just running....I "like" it.  I may not always look forward to the run, it may hurt while I run, but I have never regretted running.  I've regretted not finding the the time or motivation to run but never got back from a run regretting the time I spent.  And I never come back from a run upset or stressed.  It's an excellent stress reliever.  Bills, relationships, work chores, whatever may be on my mind, I can guarantee I won't come back from the run still stressed.  The problems will still be there but they won't seem as bad for the time afterwards.  Besides running I've also been working on building up my strength in my upper body and core.  Goal: Consecutive pull ups...which are MUCH harder than they were in elementary for the fitness test (maybe because I weigh more?).  I've been doing a Warrior Dash yearly and this year I signed up for a Spartan Race.  I completed a half marathon and want to do more.  I love watching American Ninja Warrior and wish I could do something like that (I lack so much in the upper body strength).  I sometime look back and wonder what would have happened if I had gotten an interest in fitness earlier in life...like in my twenties, when my body recovered faster and I had more energy and my joints didn't hurt after a long day.  I can't regret what I

didn't do at the time.  Then I look back at the 2-3 years where running, even walking, hurt and I was very limited to what I could do.  Once I got healed up and was able to start moving again, I never stopped.  I signed up for a soccer league that next year, did my first Warrior Dash, and got my focus.  Why?  Because I spent those years hurting and thinking I'd never get better, that it would always hurt.  So every day it doesn't hurt is a gift and I'm thankful for every time I run or work out or play a soccer game and I find myself sore....in the good way!

Youth is wasted on the young....I never understood what that meant...until now.  That didn't make sense until I realized what it meant...you don't appreciate what you have until you don't have it anymore.  I'm pushing myself now because I probably didn't push myself then.  Don't let yourself waste anymore time now waiting for your life to begin because it already has!

Just Words on a Screen...so what?

The other day I got some rather nasty messages from an ebay user who claimed I had sent them an empty box and were quite upset and demanding why I had done what I had done.  Wow, dude, slow down.  Way to jump right away to blaming, demanding, and assuming that what had happened was a personal attack on someone I didn't know.  The first question I asked was, "Was the box damaged?" He replied that there was a hole in the box but no way did a book go through there.  I assured him that there was in fact a book in the box when it left my place.  I asked for pictures of the box so I could see the shape it was in and it appeared that at one of the many post offices it went through, the box was damaged and the post office had tried fixing it.  However, somehow, a 5 pound large textbook got left behind and someone, somewhere, has a Physiology textbook they probably don't want.  I explained that I was sorry but that it had, in fact, been taped up well and packaged tight when it went to the post office but that I'd be willing to give a refund because of damage in transit.  This person was not taking it well though because obviously their life had been hugely inconvenienced.  They said that the post office did not receive a box with a book in it (obviously not realizing how many post offices it went through to get to south FL and that any one of them along the way could have made the mistake) and that I sold him an empty box.  I almost had to laugh at that.  I'd been trying to sell off that book since I left college....in 2004....and I didn't want it anymore!  He demanded the refund but due to Comcast (continued) issues, I didn't have any way of getting a refund to him until the next day because I needed a computer, not an app on a phone to get that done.  I asked him to be patient until the next day when I got to work.  He replied, after midnight, "where's my refund?"  He also responded around 8 am, "Where's my refund?"  I wasn't at work yet and I told him I was headed there soon and I'd get it taken care of.  His words?  "Still waiting.  No refund."  Oh....my...goodness....shake....my....head.  I issued a refund...no word of "Thanks" or even, "I got it. Thanks."  And now to the point of this post.

We live behind computer screens nowadays, writing words on a screen without any thought, care, or consideration behind them anymore.  I see it on facebook, comments left on news articles, and just about anything where there is an opinion (even facts) posted, we feel obligated to not only share our views, but to insult and poke fun of the person who posted it (and leave horrible comments against liberals and conservatives alike, even if it's not a political issue).  We don't feel the repercussions of our words....I mean they are just words on a screen going to another screen with words on it.  People get their panties in a bunch, the hairs on their neck raised on high alert, and their blood pressure up anytime something is posted that they don't agree with.  Just because we don't agree on a point has never been a cause for one to get physically worked up over.  You're responding in anger and stewing over a post about a person you haven't met, are likely not to meet.  However are they doing the same?  Are they as worked up as you?  This isn't the same thing but I read once that bitterness is a poison you take that you intended for the other person to take.  This isn't bitterness but I feel like the affect is the same.  I vowed a few years ago that I would abstain from posting political, religious, social posts on facebook.  Why?  Because I had done it before and unintentionally started arguments and I became hesitant to even open FB for fear of what attack may lie once I logged in. It didn't mean I no longer held views and held them strongly...it just meant that FB was not the platform for me to use.  I liked hearing about others lives, sharing my own with people I didn't get the chance to see very often, and "seeing" people I had long lost contact with.  But I wanted it to be free from strife and high blood pressure.  I can say that I no longer hold any hesitation in opening my FB.  I stay away from any arguments and I will make people "acquaintances" if I realize that most of their posts are trying to stir up trouble or are constantly bashing conservatives (I single that out because I see it a lot on my personal FB news feed).  I still have folks who are constantly (it feels) pushing their beliefs on FB and I'd love to respond...however I will do so in person.  Never on the screen.  If you want to know what I believe, ask me.  I won't hold back.  In fact, I'll state what I believe here.  But I won't discuss it.  It's not for an argument or debate.  You want to have a conversation with me...great.  Let's set a date.  But let's always remember one thing...your words that you put on your screen that travel through cyberspace and arrive instantly at another's screen are, in fact, going to another person who has a life, who loves, and who hurts just like you.  Words hurt.  The kids got it wrong.  Sticks and stones will break my bones and words can wound just as much.


Spoiler alert...don't read on if you don't really want to know.




So who am I?  Really shouldn't be of any surprise here.
I'm a conservative republican who believes wholeheartedly in small government and that the government is not here to solve our social issues.  Please let me keep the money I make and stop giving it away to those who refuse to work (some truly need it, not all though!).  My college education was not free and I survived.  I'm pro-life and I believe that someday I'll see all the lives extinguished here on earth in heaven simply because we couldn't be "inconvenienced" with a baby and it was my body so I can do what I want, despite the fact that another life was taken in the process.  I believe in the literal 6 day Creation, no question...and yes, I'm a scientist too and the two can co-exist.  I believe in the Bible.  I believe that some actions (you can probably guess which ones!) that our society is attempting to legalize and condone are, in fact, a sin.  A sin much like others but still wrong.  However I was taught to not be judgmental and that God told us to love the sinner but hate the sin.  I believe that just because we don't agree on a subject, cause, or political party, we can still be friends, we don't have to argue, and I don't have to agree with you to be tolerant of your beliefs you hold.  However I believe we can still be FB friends.  We may not have a ton to talk about in real life but I'm sure we can come up with something.