Fleet feet

This past weekend I ran my first 5k race in years. Since coming home from Sweden, I've been wanting to get back into racing, but it's sometimes hard to fit training into a regular routine when school refuses to be predictable. My roomates and I signed up for this race in February, which is good motivation for some long training runs we've been doing, but while we've been going farther and farther almost every week, I haven't run fast in a very long time. So I thought I should start running some shorter races again, and when I heard about one that was only 5$, and went to support a good cause, I signed myself up.

One of my roomates had agreed to come along with me, although she's not as avid a runner as I am. Feeling a little nervous myself about the whole thing, and eager to help her have a fun time, I agreed to run with her the whole race, and make it "just for fun" rather than competitive. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, and lots of happy memories started flooding back as people started gathering. The' eye of the tiger' blasted loudly from the Dj's speakers, the sun shone through crisp fall air, and anticipation and excitement gleamed in the eyes of the middle and high school girls who turned out for the race. Familiar feelings rushed back to me as everyone crowded the starting line and the gun went off.

At first I felt instincts to get competitive, to strategize, to really race, but because I'd promised my friend, I settled back for a good strong, but conversational pace. At first I felt sad that I couldn't relive the competitive rush, but as the race went on, I remembered another reason why I loved cross-country so much: the camaraderie. Yes, there are always "those teams" who you just had to beat, no matter what-- But then there were the runners from other teams, who you always seemed to end up running near in the middle of the race. The girls from teams who it didn't really matter if you beat them or not, sometimes you would, sometimes you wouldn't, but you always seemed to find yourselves together at the middle of the second mile, just when you felt like giving up just a little bit. There would maybe be a few exchanged gasps of encouragement: "we can make it up this next hill", or "lets go get that girl together" and somehow encouraging them encouraged you, and you made it up that hill and past that girl, and on to the home stretch. Those are the memories that came flooding back to me this time. I don't remember those girls names, or what schools they were from, but I remember the feeling of strength that came from running together. I realized that perhaps some of my fondest memories from cross-country are not, in fact, the people I beat, but the ones I ran alongside.This Saturday, because I wasn't racing competitively, I was able to tell a mom how impressed I was that she was pushing double weight with a jogging stroller, make friends with two school teachers, and have an interesting conversation with a very good friend. Instead of being disappointed with my haven't-raced-in-5-years 5k time, I felt like WE had accomplished something great together.

schmaltz = sentimentality

This is a fun way you can improve your vocabulary and the world at the same time :)

Copy Machines Kill Trees

I was working at the desk in the library today when someone asked me for help working the copier. This should have sent off warning signals in my brain. Ok, maybe it did, but I, of course, smiled and said I'd love to (try to) help them :)
Copy machines always present problems. Sometimes I think they purposefully cut off that one edge, or print upside-down just so that tree-loving side of me will get thoroughly humiliated. Today was no exception, unfortunately, but it did bring a smile to my face as I remembered the last, really awful fight I had with a copy machine.
It was one of those really stressful missionary days in my third area, where we had more things to do than we had time, and none of them felt really productive. We were at the chapel after a lesson, and needed to produce some programs for the baptism of a sweet little girl the coming weekend. My companion went into the "library" to do the photocopies, and I sat in the hall just outside the door to make some phone calls. Phone calls in Swedish still required a lot of focus and attention, so I didn't have much idea of what was going on inside the library, until 20 minutes later when I finished and stuck my head in to see how it was going. My poor dear companion was, unbeknownst to me, a little spatially scatter-brained, and stood there having gone through literally half a ream of paper trying to get the front/back sides situated correctly and the photograph looking good on the front. It was probably the funniest thing I'd seen all day. We finally did get it figured out together. I tried to hide the massive amounts of failed attempts at the bottom of the trash can. Unfortunately the meticulous cleaning lady found them all anyway, a couple of days later, and set them back on the counter in a neat little pile and asked us about it. Shoot. We tried to act grateful, and carefully tucked the pile in our backpacks, took it home, and disposed of it there. *oh shame, oh shame* I should probably plant a few trees and pay a little extra tithing this month to make up for it.

Evolving thoughts

"Science dominated by the spirit of religion is the key to progress and the hope of the future. For example, evolution's beautiful theory of the creation of the world offers many perplexing problems to the inquiring mind...even Charles Darwin, when he faced this great question of annihilation, that the creation is dominated only by chance wrote: 'it is an intolerable thought that man and all other sentient beings are doomed to complete annihilation after such long, continued slow progress.' Why should man come so far if he's destined to go no farther? A creature that travels such distances and fought such battles and won such victories deserves what we are compelled to say 'to conquer death and rob the grave of its victory'. " -David O. McKay

President Hinckley on the matter: "What the church requires is only belief 'that Adam was the first man of what we would call the human race'. Scientists can speculate on the rest."

Home again, Home again, Jiggidy Jig

After 18 life defining months in Sweden, I am "home" again, trying to figure out what that definition was. I think i thought that when I got home I would have become "M: super awesome version." or something. But I'm learning, mostly, that life is better when you just stop worrying about "who" you are, or "what" you've become, how you've changed, or haven't changed, and just kind of embrace, accept, and let go.

Easier said than done.

On the newsy side, i have been enjoying a month of p-days. My long awaited "sommarlov", which may not be quite all that I dreamed, but still pretty great. the oklahoma house is all that it was hinted to be, and so much more. A porch swing, two staircases, window seats, a cozy little attic room with window eaves beds, and electronical neuances galor.. it pretty much has every element that I dreamed about in a house as a little kid, except for a laundry shoot, but I suppose i'm too big to fit down those anymore.. so no harm done.

Syster T visited me, which gave opportunity to explore. We discovered several down south delights. the first being the Firefighters Museum (!) It's complete with two old fireengines parked outside which you are welcome to climb all over (and we did) and a playground set up to look like a firehouse, complete with helpful signs such as "firefighters crawl low under the smoke" by the tunnel, and "firefighters train to be strong" by the monkeybars (I fail at being a firefighter, at least as far as the monkeybar requirements go...) and "always know two ways out" by the slides. It was GREAT. we got t-shirts.

Limbo

Christmas was lovely. Then people started trickling out, and now my mom and I are left to echo around the house, carrying stray papers in our hands, getting rid of some old piles, creating new ones, and trying to avoid the strange magnetism of the computer screen.

The whole process of weeding out, cleaning, and boxing up my room leaves me strangely satisfied, as if I am cleaning up every corner of my life and embarking into a new landscape. I am, really. I thought that this would be hard, but I'm beginning to believe that it is really making everything easier. No more does the child inside me cry "it will never be the same again!" but rather the adult says the same with a sigh of relief--knowing I only go on to a better version of myself.

1 box of books, 1 box of memorabilia, a few boxes of clothes to return to, and suitcases packed and ready to embark. I don't know exactly what's ahead, but I know that I can close this chapter, at least, without any regrets.

Dictionary definition

M --

[noun]:
A person who is a master of making ravioli

I'm glad that I've discovered my mission in life so young. I better get started.


And my middle name came out as:
L-----
[adjective]:
Smelling like turnips at all times.

Which makes me wonder---can you make turnip ravioli??


(taken from http://www.quizgalaxy.com/quiz_83.html)

I love fall