I have really struggled with this idea. Not just in doing physical things, but in many things. I often lack confidence in my abilities, and so, sabotage myself and convince myself I can’t do things. A prime example is running.  In the fall of 2012 I decided that I needed to lose some weight and get in shape, but I didn’t want to commit to anything that cost money, like a workout program or gym membership, because I’d spent lots of money on things to get in shape that just ended up collecting dust or getting donated when I didn’t use them. SO, I downloaded an app with the idea that I would train for a 5K. I think I lasted 2 weeks.

The first week you were supposed to alternate running 1 minute and walking 1 ½ minutes for a total of 20 minutes. I thought I would die. Each of those minutes I was supposed to run felt like forever as I struggled to breathe and my heart pounded so hard I thought it would beat out of my chest. Then I got sick, and quickly used that as my excuse to quit.

Fast forward almost 2 years. I’d been working out, doing 21Day Fix, for a couple months. Someone in my FB accountability group posted a link for a 5K Color Run and asked who was going. I took the challenge. That night I opened that app and tried that first week workout again…and it was easy!! I followed the plan and ran my first 5K 10 weeks later, in November 2014.

Around the same time that I had started training, I got an invitation to join a Facebook group called The 300 Day Project. The point was to challenge ourselves to do something difficult. Several people chose to train for a ½ marathon. I chose to stick with my plan to run a 5K, and then to run a 10K.

Well, after I ran that first 5K, and my second a couple weeks later, I decided it was too hard –I convinced myself I couldn’t do it. I gave excuses about my knees (which weren’t entirely untrue), and told everyone that I just had no desire to do it….rather than the truth that I just didn’t think I could.  I tried another 5K in January and it felt just as horrible as the first two, so I felt justified in my decision to quit.

Then in March, my sister told me that she had bibs for me to run a 5K and a 10K at Disneyland with her in May. I couldn’t say no, but I really didn’t believe I could do it, and again gave excuses so she wouldn’t be disappointed or too surprised if I didn’t finish.

I ran those races this past weekend. BOTH of them! As we walked from our hotel to the starting line of the 10K on Saturday, I was still saying I just hoped I could run 4 of the 6.2 miles, because my knees were sore from the day before, and I didn’t sleep well, and I’d never run more than 4 miles, blah, blah, blah. My sister kept telling me I was gonna be awesome and that I was totally gonna rock it. I didn’t believe her.

As they counted down the start, I hit go on my running app, the first song in the shuffle was Carry On Wayward Son – my Dad’s song. Since his passing, my dad has, on more than one occasion, made his presence known through this song and a couple others. Standing at that starting line, I KNEW it was his way of telling me, “You’ve totally got this!”  And THAT was exactly what I needed. For the first time instead of thinking, “I hope I can” I was thinking “I can” and “I will”. From mile 2 on, my knees were telling me to stop, but I just couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t fast, but I did it! I fought tears as I crossed the finish line. Except for my knees, I felt energized and like I could keep going. For the first time, I could envision myself going further – running a half marathon.  Even one step further, running a 10K and a  ½ marathon in the same weekend – just like my sister was about to do. I suddenly saw myself capable of so much more than I had ever allowed myself to think possible. I broke through a barrier I had placed on myself as I crossed that finish line – and I was suddenly excited about my possibilities! Not just in running, but in other areas of my life as well.

Now I’m not gonna lie, my knees are going to be an issue, but they are an issue that I WILL find a solution for because I AM going to do this!!

Comfortable in my own skin

I came across this on Pinterest the other day and it's been stuck in my head. Most of my adult life I was pretty comfortable in my skin. Yeah, I had my little gripes about my body, but nothing I dwelt on. Until a few years ago when I started gaining weight, beyond the baby weight I still carried. When I started my fitness/weight loss journey 9 months ago I just wanted to get back to the post baby size that I had spent 20 years at. Then I got there and was able to go beyond that. I'm actually down to the size I was when I got married, almost 25 years ago now. But I look at my body and still see problems, some the same and some new. I have made this incredible change to my lifestyle and health and I still see things to be unhappy with....and that bothers me. Not because those "imperfections" exist, but because I find myself more focused on them than I like, or than I was before. I feel ungrateful. The Lord has helped me to lose 40 pounds and to get healthier and more fit than I have been since college. I've run three 5Ks so far, and am currently signed up to run a 5K, a 6.5K and 10K in May (not certain I'll be able to run the whole 10, but that's ok). I never would have dreamed of doing that a year ago, or even 10 or 15 years ago. I do exercises and workouts that people much younger than my 48 years struggle with. I'm so grateful for all of that. I KNOW that the Lord helped me get here! So how do I stay focused on gratitude for this miraculous, if aging, body that I have been given, and the positive changes He has helped me to make to it rather than picking it apart? That's what I'm struggling with....and currently obsessed with figuring out

Today was a big milestone day. A once in a lifetime day for Katelyn and I. Katelyn got engaged last week to Nate, and today we went wedding dress shopping for the first, and as it turns out, the last time. We didn't expect to find her a dress today. We were sure it would take a few times. She tried on several very pretty dresses. But none that had that "This is the one" feeling....until the last one. Near the end of the second appointment, after she'd pretty much ruled out A-line dresses and decided she preferred fit and flair, the consultant said, "Well I had one more dress pulled, but I hesitate to have you try it now because I don't think you'll like it since it's an A-line." She paused a minute and then said to Katelyn, "You know let's try it anyway. What do you say to one more?" Katelyn agreed to give it a shot even though, she told us later, she really didn't like it on the hanger. Well, she walked out in that dress, my breath caught and I started crying. She was stunningly beautiful! She turned and saw herself in the mirror and she started crying. Soon her friend and both bridal consultants were crying too. Several people in the store stopped to tell her how stunning and how radiant she looked, and that she absolutely had to buy the dress, because it was obviously made for her. It was a rather overwhelming a moment. As we talked about alterations that would be needed I could see that the price was weighing heavily on her, as it was more than we had planned. I tried to reassure her that it would be fine, that we'd figure out how to cut costs elsewhere. And then the sweetest thing happened. An older woman, shopping for a dress for her daughter's wedding, came over to the two of us. She looked at Katelyn and asked if she could please say something to her. She told her that it was apparent to everyone how much Katelyn loved that dress, that it was obvious that it was the one. And then she told us that she felt so strongly about it, that if it was okay, she wanted to give us $100 toward the purchase of the dress. We all burst into tears all over again. We were so stunned and overwhelmed by her generosity and sweetness, and it was a gesture that allowed Katelyn to let go of her hesitation and embrace this dress. We tried to get her name and address so that we could send her an invitation, but she declined and just asked us to pay it forward some day. We both hugged her a few times before we left the store. This sweet woman made an already unforgettable day and experience all the sweeter and more memorable. It is all so very real now. My baby girl is getting married!! And she has the dress!!

PS This is obviously NOT the dress we bought. You'll have to wait until the wedding day to see that one posted anywhere. :)

Shasta

I found this draft today of a post that for some reason never got posted.....Not sure why. It's a few years old (Shasta is 9 now & has gray hair on her face) but the sentiments are still the same. Sadly not much progress has been made on my part - I just keep trying.


Those who know me well know that I am not an animal person...never have been! When I relented to getting another dog I made it clear I wanted something small that wouldn't shed allover the house. Instead, I came home one night to find Shasta. She was 6 months old at the time, but was already bigger than the size dog I was thinking of. And it didn't take more than a couple days to learn that she sheds like crazy -- dog hair gets absolutely EVERYWHERE! It makes me NUTS the amount of dog hair that always seems to be in my house.

Shasta is 5 now. She tries so hard to make me to love her. She gets sooo excited when I show her any affection. I feel so bad for her sometimes. She's a good dog. Well behaved. A good protector. And she really is cute. I feel safer having her around, especially when Brian is gone at night. But it still grosses me out when she tries to lick me, and I feel the need to scrub my hands after I've pet her even a little. And the way she follows me around sometimes is really annoying. But she keeps trying.

Some days, when I see how much her hips bother her when she gets up or down, or she looks at me with those sad, sweet eyes, or walks up and plops her head in my lap, I almost want to wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her...almost. I just can't quite bring myself to go it. But she's the first dog I've ever wanted to be able to show affection to...and I hope that counts for something. And I hope somehow, as she lays at my feet tonight, she knows that I'm trying.

Life Continues

I have been about as good at keeping up a blog as I am at keeping up a journal - which is horrible, as evident from the two year gap. However, I have gotten a few promptings in recent weeks that it was time to give it a shot again. The question is, "Where to start?"

My last post was written shortly after my oldest left for his 2 year mission. He's now been home for a couple months. Much has happened in those two years: Number 1 served an honorable mission, The Girly graduated from high school & got a scholarship for 2 years at the local community college, and Stitch started high school, turned 16 and officially entered the dating world. There have been lots of laughs, tears, fun times, trials and changes - the most difficult change and trial coming just in the last few months.

My Dad died. My strong, tough, big hearted, invincible Dad....died.

He had been battling prostate cancer for nine years, but, until July, we always held out hope that he would beat it. In July we got the word that there was nothing left to do. Nothing that was slowing the rapid spread of the cancer. All we could do was take advantage of the time we had to spend with him, make sure nothing was left unsaid, and say our goodbyes. It was a blessing and torture all at the same time, as we watched him grow weaker, and more frail, and watched his pain increase.

In August we made the decision to call Number 1's mission president and have him come home from his mission two weeks early. Dad had promised him that he would be here when Number 1 returned, but Dad was burdened by the fear that he wouldn't be able to keep that promise. The relief that washed over him when his grandson walked in to surprise him, still wearing his missionary suit and badge, is a gift I am grateful we could give him. I've never seen him cry the way he did that day. It's a moment I will never forget.

The last three days and nights of his life I spent almost constantly at his side, as my stepmother, siblings, mom and I kept vigil. There was a steady stream of family and friends coming to say their farewells. We drew strength from each other as we struggled to prepare our selves for what we knew would quickly be upon us.

I prayed a lot...in my heart, throughout the days. I knew that he was going somewhere that he would be free of pain, and could finally find peace from the torment he inflicted on himself. I knew he would be greeted by loved ones. I knew this was not "goodbye", but "see you later" -- but my heart was breaking. It physically hurt to think of him not being here.

The last four hours of his life were pure agony to watch. I was certain that I would never be able to erase from my mind the sound of his tortured breathing as his lungs filled with fluid. There came a point that I had to leave the room - had to try to muffle the sound with the noise of the fan and the air conditioner in the next room. I pleaded with Heavenly Father to end it -- and when it continued, I started to ask why, what could be the purpose of prolonging it? When I thought I couldn't possibly stand another second, a thought came to my mind. The Savior felt this pain. My pain. My father's pain. The pain of all the world. He did it so that He would understand me, and what I would need to help me endure it, because He loves me. And then I thought of my Heavenly Father. How He must ache watching His children suffer through trials.  How He must have longed to flee to the farthest point in the universe to escape watching the unfathomable agony His perfect son chose to suffer for each of us. Did His heart ache far worse than mine, knowing that He could end His son's suffering, but that if He did His other children would be lost? It must have! At that moment I knew that our family was not forgotten. The Father and the Savior were keenly aware of our suffering, and were there to strengthen and to succor each of us.

I have continued to feel their love and strength in the weeks since. They bring peace to my heart, that I WILL see my father again, and that, though I can't see him, he's not far away. I am grateful to know that they love me, and know me and what I need. There have been tender mercies to remind me of their love, and to help me feel how close my father still is. I am truly grateful to my Savior, for choosing to endure what He did, and to my Father for allowing it to happen, so that if I strive to live as they ask,  I can return to live with them again some day.....And grateful to know that when my time comes, my Dad will be there to meet me, and wrap me up in one of his great big hugs.

I can do all things...

Last week I sat and listened to the General Relief Society broadcast to the women of the church. The concluding speaker was President Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the First Presidency of the church. He spoke of the flower the Forget-me-not, how simple and unpretentious it is, and how easily its beauty could be overlooked in a garden filled with larger, more intricate, and flashy flowers. Perhaps, he mused, that is where its name is derived – from a plea not to overlook it. He then tied this simple beautiful flower, with its five petals to five principals which we should strive not to overlook or forget.


Forget not:

…..to be patient with yourself

…..the difference between wise and foolish sacrifices

…..to be happy now

…..the why of the gospel

…..that the Lord loves you


He beautifully explained and expounded on each of these points, and as I took notes I felt that familiar warmth of the Spirit wash over me. At the same time thoughts flowed through my mind of events that have taken place in the last two months, and the last two years of my life…and the life of my family. As I pondered on the thoughts that came rushing in, I could see the particular importance that the principal of forgetting not to be happy now, and especially that of forgetting not that the Lord loves you have played in the last two years of my life.


The last two months have been rather emotional ones. They have been filled with highs and lows, beginnings and endings, and frightening unknowns looming before us. In the last two years, we have faced trials that I do not exaggerate in saying were some of my worst fears made reality. Trials which I was certain, if I ever had to face, would cause me to crumple under their weight and shatter into a million pieces. And for the first few days of those trials, I was sure they would do just that, but they didn’t. They drove me to me knees, pleading with my Heavenly Father to strengthen me, and guide me, and help me and my family to get through. My thoughts were filled with questions of Why this?, Why now?, and How will we ever survive this? I have not yet received answers to why (or perhaps I have just not recognized them yet), but the Lord showed me the how as He poured out peace and comfort and guidance. He provided me with the strength that I lacked on my own, and then showed me how to continue to find joy and laughter and happiness even in the midst of frightening trials. I learned for myself the truth of Phillipians 4:13 – “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Because I know that it is only through Him that I, and my family, not only endured, but grew as individuals, and grew closer together. Faith and testimonies were deepened. I learned things about myself, and finally found the answers to why of previous trials, because I turned to the Lord for help through these trials. I don’t know that I can say I would choose to repeat the last two years, but I am grateful for the lessons that I learned from them.


I know that with the love of my Heavenly Father and of my Savior, Jesus Christ, and with the guidance of the Spirit I can do hard things…I can face any trial…and I can find joy in even the most difficult parts of the journey.

Extended Family

What an amazing day! The chapel was filled for Christopher's farewell talk. It felt so wonderful to be surrounded by family and friends that we consider family. When Bro. Gavin from the stake high council spoke he commented that one of the best indications there is of how well a missionary will do in the field is the amount of support that he receives from home, and that based on the number of people crammed into the chapel to be there for Christopher, he would do very well. He also spoke of the amazing ward that Christopher grew up in, and the tremendous influence the people of that ward had on him. He was absolutely right about that. The interesting twist is that he assumed the ward Christopher grew up in is the ward in which we live now. He assumed that all the extra people in the chapel today were primarily our (biological) family. What he didn't realize is that most of the extra people at church today are from the ward where Christopher did most of his growing up. The ward where he started as a toddler and left as a teen. The ward that truly became family to us. Many of us have moved to other wards now, but we have stayed a family. They are the people who have had our backs, laughed with us, cried with us and been through every kind of thick and thin for the past 16 years. And they were there today, to continue showing there love and support of our family. I was overjoyed to have them all there, and grateful for the blessing of having them in our lives and helping us raise our children.


Now, so you don't get the wrong idea, and think that I am somehow dismissing the influence and amazingness of our ward now, I want to say this....It was tremendously hard to leave our last ward, we were certain we could never find another group of people as great as the ones we were leaving, but we were wrong. Bro. Gavin wasn't wrong when he spoke of what tremendous people they are. This ward too has been an incredible blessing and support to our family. We have made great knew friends, and they have been great influences on and examples to us for the past 5 years. I commented to a sister at church today that if we could somehow merge our old ward and our new ward, we would be an unstoppable force for good. I think that would be pretty darn close to heaven for me.

So sitting in church today with members of the family I grew up in, and then surrounded by members of the family I have acquired over the past 16 years, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude to my Heavenly Father for filling our life with so many people who love and care for us, for extending our family to include so many. I truly hope that in the next life we all get to live close to each other, because I can't imagine eternity without all of the people who make this life so good.