Saturday, June 18, 2011

Dancing in the Moonlight

So, one final continuation from Memorial Day. Our first evening we took a tram to the top of the mountain to enjoy a free festival. I thought you might enjoy Talia puttin' on the moves.

Of course, it's easy to see where she gets all of those mad dancing skills. :)

Happy Father's Day, Peanut Butter!

A Colorado Memorial Day--Thanks, Dad!

In honor of Father's Day tomorrow, I thought I'd upload some pictures of our wet 'n wonderful Memorial Day vacation for dear ol' Dad. (I think Dad's feeling a bit lonely since my Mom's currently exploring France, Italy, and Greece with a group of high school students. The last time she called she was perched atop the Eiffel tower. Maybe we'll also get calls from the Parthenon and Pantheon?) :)

So without further adieu, here's Papa Kay with his favorite grandson. Aren't they cute all matchey matchey?

And let's not forget Jason, who is currently battling for the title of World's Best Dad by installing drip lines in the blazing heat.

And while he may not be a Dad yet, I think Eli is a future contender for the world's most adorable pop.

Memorial Day 2011 was spent in luscious Glenwood Springs, Colorado. Bridging the gap between Nebraska and Utah, Colorado was the the perfect meeting ground for a weekend of play. Here we are wandering our way up the Grizzly Creek Trail at a very leisurely pace since Talia insisted on picking every dandelion we passed.

Brooklyn invented her own system for exploring with her puggish cousin when she tied Zoe's leash to her backpack.

I thought Zoe's Mom (Aunt Callie) might appreciate the Kiwi connection with New Zealand. :)

I love how Zoe is being positively mauled by Talia in this picture while we all stand around and do nothing.

Love squeeze or a death grip?

Some unsuccessful attempts at a family picture. But hey, at least they're amusing!

Traditionally, our Memorial Day campout has involved tents and an occasional tick. This year we decided to upgrade to cabin camping until the cabin's proprietor had a personal emergency. While we were very sorry for his misfortune, we were ultimately grateful to "camp" at the Residence Inn instead. Due to a very wet spring, Glenwood Springs was positively overflowing. When we went to explore the cabin area, we discovered that it backed up against this raging river instead of the typically quiet creek.

Even when the kids were safely on the path, my heart pounded as I envisioned a child getting swept away by the muddy waters.

Hands are meant for holding.

Safely away from the rushing waters, we then stopped at a park for some play time.

Papa Kay gives the best Underdogs!

Early one morning Jason, Eli and I went to explore the gorgeous Hanging Lake Trail.

Under normal weather conditions, the trail is...

...difficult (but gorgeous.) Given the extremely high water levels in Colorado, the trail became downright treacherous. Fortunately, the views were also extraordinary.

Jason and Eli check out the stream as it verges on overflowing

Picking our way through the trail turned waterway.

Of course, this waterfall was the real deal.

Magnificent views from the top.

What a perfect way to spend the morning!

Even Eli, who was feeling under the weather, perked up for Hanging Lake.

Jason and I caught a few couple pictures as well. Earlier in the month we'd celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. Good thing we still like each other!

Years ago, Jason and I were both traumatized when we lost our camera following our European honeymoon. Good thing we have so many fun pictures since to make up for it. :)

Sadly, our poor little guy got tired of being toted during the trek down.

Break my heart!

With Eli tired and grumpy, we hurried home as fast as possible. Still, I can't wait to share this splendid piece of colorful Colorado with the rest of the family someday.

On the positive side, we figured out a great way to cheer up our Cheezstick--wrap him up in a giant orange sweatshirt.

Worked well until the topple.

After that, we let him wear Talia's jacket instead since his own coat had mysteriously disappeared. Warm and dry, Eli was a golf pro. Find the hole...

Drop the ball in...

And repeat. The club served as a nice prop.

The rest of us had plenty of fun playing as well, at least until the rain forced us to find shelter by the 25 cent ski ball machines.

It just wouldn't be Memorial Day without Papa Kay's flag shirt. Always makes me smile.

Truly Dad, Memorial Day has become one of our most cherished family traditions. Thanks so much for sponsoring such a wonderful weekend, and Happy Father's Day!

Sunday, June 12, 2011

My Race in Numbers

Utah Valley Marathon
June 11th, 2011

26.2 Miles
3:30 am wake-up call
1 bowl of cereal
3 good luck kisses from my hubby
1 taxi ride to catch a 4:00 am bus
2 phone calls to Mom to pass the time and calm my nerves
1 banana I begged off someone when I was hungry again at 5:30
1 last minute trip to the port-a-potty
6:00 am race start
45,850 steps (approximately)
12 water stations, 2 Gu packets, 4 orange quarters, 1 banana, and 1 otter pop
2 stops to tape my knee
2 times the tape promptly peeled off my sweaty skin
4 wonderful times my family cheered me along the course
2 times I chatted so long that Jason told me to get going and keep running
1 time I refused to run the final 100 yards unless Jason gave me one last kiss
10:04 am I collapsed with joy across the finish line

And, for any interested in boring technical numbers, my official chip time was 4:02:34 with a 1/2 split of 1:58:20. Overall pace 9:15, 1/2 pace 9:02.

Mile splits: 9:16, 8:28, 8:00 (followed by a moment of oh-crud-I-need-to-slow-down), 8:44, 9:10, 8:27, 9:28, 9:16, 9:40, 8:29, 10:11, 19:12 (missed a mile there), 7:58 (oops, too fast!), 8:50, 9:43, 9:03, 9:06, 10:18, 8:54, 9:09, 10:10 (I'm suffering), 9:15, 10:32 (think I'm gonna die), 9:33 (isn't this over yet?), 9:30 (how can University Avenue be so long?), and 2:18 (I MADE IT!!!)

706th place out of 1635 competitors, 80th out of 174 women ages 30-34.

Whew! I'm exhausted just writing about it. The story behind the numbers is that the race was fabulous. Everything I hoped it would be, and then some. Don't get me wrong--it was hard and it hurt and I wanted to quit and I wanted to cry, but I kept on going. Ignoring the pain, I dragged myself and on and on until I finally met my goal, and that feels great.

The first three hours of the race were positively idyllic. The weather was perfect, and the course was stunning. I felt energized as we ran past lush green pastures, cheered only by horses, sheep, and an occasional rooster. Snow-capped mountains rose in the distance, coming ever closer as we descended into the canyon. My only worry was to avoid going faster than I'd trained for. Miles 7-11 through Deer Creek State Park were incredible. It was so beautiful as we ran past the reservoir that I spent far more time gazing off across the backdrop of mountains and lake than I did staring at the course in front of me. I was enveloped by this overwhelming peace and desire to relish the marathon experience. After all the hard work and training, the big race was finally here. I wanted to savor every moment.

The dream began to fade at mile 11 when my left knee started to hurt badly going down the steep hill by the dam. (It's never given me problems before, but I guess there's a first time for everything.) The pain was persistent enough that I eventually stopped to tape it, which helped as long as the tape held in place, which, unfortunately, was not long. So while the next miles through Provo Canyon and past Bridal Veil Falls were still positive, they didn't share the same pinch-me-I'm-dreaming quality as the first segment.

By mile 18, the grit of racing was starting to set in. I turned on my music for some extra encouragement, but felt nervous that the pain and fatigue were arriving so soon. Still, the music helped, and once again I began settling into my own groove.

Around mile 21 I met up with Jason and the tiny folks for the first time at the mouth of the canyon. It's strange, but I felt so proud as I waved to my cute kids and hubby, not because I was running a marathon, but because such a great crew would call me Mom. Their encouragement couldn't have come at a better time, because the last miles straight down University Avenue were tough.

In describing a marathon, many runners talk about hitting "the wall." For me, I would characterize my final struggle as an enormous hill that just got steeper and steeper and steeper until I finally reached the summit at the finish line. While I couldn't pinpoint a single moment when I slammed into the wall, I never felt like I really broke through it either. I simply endured, propelling myself on and on by sheer willpower. As difficult as the battle was physically, it was equally challenging mentally. All around me, people were walking. I wanted to stop SO BADLY as well, but I knew that once I did, I wouldn't be able to get going again. It's amazing how persuasive I can be in making excuses. I kept thinking about how far ahead I was of my goal time (somewhere between 4 1/2 and 5 hours.) If I blasted my record now, how could I ever beat that if I decided to run another marathon? Deep inside, I knew that was ridiculous. Marathons have nothing to do with time, but rather accomplishing one's personal best. However, it was ultimately the argument that if I kept running, I'd be done sooner that tipped the scale.

And so, I narrowed my field of vision, blocked out everything around me, and focused on small goals. One more mile. You can make it one more mile. Ten minutes and you'll be there. Okay, now just one more. You made it. Have an Otter Pop. Only a 5K left. You can do that. 2 miles. It would be crazy to give up now! I know you hurt, but you've finished 25 miles. You can make it to the end. You can!

At this point, I remember the streets being spotted with spectators just...spectating. No cheers, no clapping, they were just...staring. While normally a crowd might be nice, I felt like screaming, hey, do you have any idea how hard this is? I know that finish line looks close to you, but it is so far for me! We folks in the middle may not be the fastest competitors, but every marathoner deserves a bit of applause.

An eternity later, I finally made it to the chute where the crowd was noisy and great. Jason and the kids were there, I hugged them all, savored a kiss from my darling, summoned all my inner strength, and ran full speed across the finish line. As they placed the medal around my neck, my eyes brimmed with emotion. And then, of course, I grimaced with pain and hobbled around to get some Creamies for the kids.

Looking back, I feel so grateful to have made it. A week before the race I wasn't sure that I'd even make it to the starting line. While the distances were much shorter, I was sick for many of the runs during my taper and felt weak. I didn't even finish my final 2 mile run because of an awful asthma attack. (That's what I get for being cocky and thinking I didn't need to bring an inhaler.) I spent the two days before heading up to Provo baking in the sun at Youth Conference, leaving me drained and headachey.

Standing at the starting line, I was anything but cocky. The altitude was higher, there would be car exhaust to trigger my lungs, and I hadn't slept well for the last several days. Even on my best training days, I never fantasized a four hour race, but certainly not then. True, I'd put in some good numbers. Since March I'd completed 71 workouts and run 382 miles. Yet ultimately, I recognize that a good many prayers propelled me to that finish line. The back of my shirt was covered with hand prints from my supportive husband and children. Family and friends, I really could feel you pushing me on. Thank you!

And now, Jason darling, it's your turn! St. George Marathon 2011, here he comes!

Coming in for some high fives from the kids.

Oh, it hurts to get going again!

There, that's better.

Almost there!

Down the final chute.

Sharing popsicles and hugs with my favorite people in the world. Life doesn't get any better!

Happy Running!