Cross Country Season Finale

While I was sitting at the piano playing a tricky song with five flats on Friday, I had two thoughts:

• ·      Playing five flats (D-flat major?) is HARD!
• ·      Music with five flats is beautiful.

Five flats are both hard to play and beautiful to hear. There is beauty in difficulty. Just like a pianist stumbling through a song with five flats, the difficulty of tackling a challenge can sometimes obscure the beauty for a while. But eventually, somewhere along the journey the beauty emerges!

This reminds me of the agonies and joys of running...and coaching runners...

We finished cross country season on Thursday night (October 25th). My first season as an assistant coach is done. My learning curve was steep, and I still have plenty to learn. By the last few weeks of the season, however, I finally started to feel more comfortable and less terrified of the teenagers on the team. It was definitely a relief to find that [most] teenagers improve upon further acquaintance.

For the entire season, we battled all kinds of barriers on our team, from simple soreness and injury all the way to maddening attitude and apathy. Lots of practices and races left us as coaches feeling exasperated at the attitude, the lack of effort, the walking, etc. On too many of the days I found myself wondering why on earth half of these kids signed up for cross country if they didn't want to RUN. Then an unexpected runner would surprise and please us with an excellent workout or a cheery attitude. High school coaching is an endless cycle of mountaintop-high ups and ocean-trench lows. Thank goodness for the solid hard workers that pulled us through the rough patches. A few weeks into the season, Jeff made some much-needed cuts to the team roster to keep the team heading in the right direction, and we finished the season with about 30 runners, 24 of whom were eligible and able to race at the district meet on Thursday.

What about our own three children? Grama to the rescue! Jeff's mom, Leslie, earned her sainthood and beyond during this cross country season. She watched Jay, Rose, and Amber three times late into the night while Jeff and I were at our far-away weeknight meets. She came regularly each week to help keep track of our kids, and even brought after school snacks for them. I can't express the peace of mind it gave me to have my sweet kids with their loving grama while I was doing a Job Away From Home for the first time in my journey through motherhood. Our kids are so lucky to live so close to their grandparents. Ok, back to cross country...

The district meet was in Wenatchee, a 2.5 hour bus ride from Sunnyside. It was our third trip to Wenatchee in five weeks. The bus hit the road at 11:30am (Amber was with Grama Leslie). The road to Wenatchee is not a smooth straight interstate; it's a curvy bouncy skinny road through the rugged brown hills of central Washington. School buses are not  made for journeys lasting above half an hour, and they really are not made for people over five feet tall. It was cloudy, gloomy, and rainy while we drove and I was on the verge of plunging into motion sickness as the bus rocketed along the bumpy country road. We stopped at a gas station in George, WA (love that place). A brief walk out in the cold drizzly-mizzly rain settled my stomach somewhat. It also about froze me! Brrr, 48 degrees and rainy is bone-chilling. I braced myself for a few hours of teeth chattering at the meet. When we arrived in Wenatchee a little after 2pm, however, the drizzle eased up within the hour and we enjoyed ideal running conditions: 50 degrees and cloudy.

First, four of our girls ran the JV race, with spectacular improvement all around. They each cut an entire MINUTE off their previous best times. Jeff and I were jumping for joy as we sprinted around the course cheering them on. The boys JV race brought similar vast improvements. I love the whole team (boys and girls), but I have done the most actual coaching with the girls, so I felt especially like a plump, proud mother hen watching her chicks fly during the girls' races at the district meet.

One of the things we struggled with on our girls team throughout the season was doing our team cheer with gusto at the start line. Jeff has enough vocal volume and personality to make any cheer loud and proud (and to give confidence/amusement to reluctant teenagers), but he was always elsewhere doing other coachy things when it was time to do the team cheer with the girls. I have zero ability to shout, so our girls' team cheer was always rather feeble and/or abbreviated. We are a tiny little team of new runners. The big established teams gather at the start line in massive circles and shout loud chants together. After we had warmed up and arrived at the starting line on Thursday, I noticed that our tiny group of 6 girls was super intimidated by those big loud teams crowding them out at the line with their noise and energy. Inspiration struck me suddenly, out of nowhere, and I acted upon it.

At the starting line, I had our girls do their strides (from the starting line, sprint out 30-ish meters and walk back; repeat three times--it preps the legs for the rigors of race pace). I followed them on their last stride and gathered them together out in front of the starting line before they walked back to toe the line. It was much quieter and less chaotic out there. I got the team to huddle up together, arms around shoulders, in a circle. In the process, I realized that we hadn't ever even done a shoulder-hug-huddle! What? It is tricky to unearth these useful girl-team-unity details from my memory.

So there we were, huddled in a circle. All of the girls looked at me and I felt simultaneously thrust OUT of my element, and INTO my element. I can't describe it any other way. Impromptu speeches are so not my forte, but the team was waiting for their coach (me!) to SAY something, so without any preparation, I started talking. I gave my first inspirational speech! It was nothing unique or exceptional, but it was full of things that the girls needed to hear:

"Ok, this is it. You are in the best shape of the season right now. You are ready for this race. You have worked so hard for two months for TODAY. Make it count. Your entire season only has 3.1 miles left in it--that's nothing compared to all of the miles we've already run together! You can do this. Now, let's do our cheer. Hands in!"

I quickly reviewed the words to our cheer since lots of the girls have a hard time remembering it (Jeff wrote it and it does take some getting used to), then the team captain led the chant:

TOGETHER WE WILL

Run as one!

TOGETHER WE WILL

Beat the pain!

TOGETHER WE WILL

Win the day!

1-2-3, GRIZZ!

It was our best, loudest, most unified cheer of the season and it set the tone for the entire race. (or maybe it was my inspirational speech? hah) Jeff wanted our team cheer to SAY something, so it's our team motto. Context: Sunnyside High School's mascot is the Grizzlies. One of Sunnyside High School's main tag lines is "together we will" (it's written on the walls at the school). So Jeff filled in the blanks with three important team mantras. The captain shouts out "together we will" and the team shouts the answers. It's great when everyone remembers the words!

Every single one of our ten girls ran the fastest 5k of their lives during the district race (minus one asthma attack). Miraculously, "it clicked" and they finally ALL ran brave, really dug deep for what felt like the first time all season (usually it's only 2 or 3 girls who really go for it at each meet). We have had a lot of lackluster  effort on our girls' team, so their obvious effort at the district meet was inspiring. I felt like all of the ups and downs of our season were worth it for that one race. Jeff and I wore ourselves out running all over the course, and then sprinting over to the chute to congratulate each girl when she finished. It was THE BEST! They did so well. I got all choked up watching them work so hard.

Here are five anecdotes from our girls' races at the district meet:

About half a mile into the JV race, one of our girls stopped with an asthma attack. Luckily I was standing there. She could not draw breath, and it was a tad freaky, but I told her to take slow breaths and try to walk. She gasped and dry heaved a few times but eventually was able to keep walking. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep running the race. I walked with her and said, "let's walk for now. Just remember, this is the last race of the season. If you can run, then run. If you can't breathe, stop and walk till you can run again." Suddenly her teammates who weren't in her race saw her and started cheering her on and she took off running faster than I've seen her run all year. One of her teammates caught up to her and gave her an inhaler. She used it several times through the race, passed six girls to avoid last place, and finished the race stronger than she started. Even though she didn't get her best time due to the asthma pause, she has never worked that hard through her asthma all year. It was so good.

We had another JV girl whose big goal for the season was to break 30 minutes in the 5k. She was such a sweet sunshine of a girl who always gave good effort at meets and practices, and always had such a happy positive attitude. She had come within 3 seconds of her sub-30 minute goal, but never broke that barrier. Then at this race she busted through, finishing in 29:12. Cue sobby gasps from deep inside my coachy-heart.

In the varsity race, our girls team captain looked strong the entire way through and cut ten seconds off of her PR. Our number two girl had been limping with a calf injury for half of the season, and had to bike most of our workouts for a month to heal. She ran with grit and determination and finished the race an entire minute and fourteen seconds faster than her previous 5k best.

Our number six varsity girl was in last place and her knee was hurting. Whenever she ran past me, she'd slow down or stop and say "my knee is hurting, what should I do?" The first time I said "I don't know what to tell you...KEEP RUNNING?" Eventually I got the hang of telling her to run even though it hurt, and I just said "beat the pain! Keep running!" even though it felt kind of harsh. She kept running, so it couldn't have been too terrible of an injury...right? It's so weird to tell kids to keep running when they say they're hurt, but why stop during the last meet of the year? Distance running grit is a work in progress with our girls team, as is my ability as a coach to know when to say "beat the pain and run anyways" vs. "stop before you pass out."

I'll write one anecdote about a member of our guys' team. As a sophomore, he took over the number one spot on the team early in the season, and methodically improved in every single race, from beginning to end. His workouts were like clockwork. Even when some teammates were slacking or not following the coach's instructions, he gave honest, consistent effort at every single practice. It is so gratifying to watch such a hard worker be rewarded with faster times every single week. At the district meet, he ran his heart out and clocked the fastest 5k of his life, finishing in 15th place overall. CHILLS.

Both our girls and boys teams finished 7th out of 7 teams in the district, and nobody made it to state, but that's the beauty of running: you don't have to beat the competition to succeed! 85% of our runners ran the fastest 5k of their life in this single race, proving yet again the powerhouse pairing of hard work and a smart head coach. I felt a little guilty for basking in the victory of their PR's because I did not help Jeff dream up and write the enormous spreadsheet of a carefully crafted training plan for the team. But I helped implement the magical training plan and saw it in action every day. The victories were still sweet because I was there for the ups and downs of the journey.

The difficulty of tackling a challenge can sometimes obscure its beauty for a while, but eventually, somewhere along the journey, the beauty (and awesomeness) emerges. 

Yay cross country!

Thursday happened to be "favorite sports team" day at Jay and Rose's school, and these two firmly declared that they only have ONE team they like: Sunnyside High School cross country. Since Jeff and I were coaching at the district meet that day, our cross country apparel was in high demand. Rose settled for a track t-shirt while Jay borrowed one of Jeff's Sunnyside coaching polos.

Smiling through their nerves at the varsity starting line.

They all wore their matching hair bows. :)

Heading towards the first mile, my heart leapt when I saw 5/6 of our team running TOGETHER. A cross country coach's dream, right here! They strung out as the race progressed, but this was an excellent start!

The girls: Jeff copied their pose and pulled it off nicely. Somehow in the chaos, we never managed to get a big group picture or a boys only team picture. But these girls! Happy day.

Ten day lesson

The beginning: During general conference on October 6th, President Nelson gave us four invitations, the first of which was "to participate in a 10-day fast from social media and from any other media that bring negative and impure thoughts to your mind."

I have to admit that my initial reaction to this challenge was kind of lukewarm. I sighed and said to myself, "a social media fast? Why do we need to fast from our friends? Aren't we supposed to share goodness with them? Reach out? Be an example? I don't really even think that my usage of social media is over-the-top enough for me to benefit from a social media fast." I listened to myself whining, then really heard myself and realized how lame I sounded. I re-routed my lazy reaction to: JUST FOLLOW THE PROPHET, Shaina!

It's worth it.

Yesterday (Wednesday), my fast from social media ended, and before I jumped back into those fast-flowing river rapids, I wrote down what I learned and noticed from the break.

The baseline: My normal social media usage includes Instagram (my favorite, most frequented social media), Facebook, and my blog. On average I normally check Instagram 4-5 times per day, depending on the day. I usually check Facebook 1-2 times per day, depending on the day. Some days I check social media way more, and after a day or two like that I feel blah and adjust my viewing again. I can definitely feel the pull to do more, more, more with social media, and I definitely feel like I am always fighting that temptation. On way I combat that constant pull is outside of texts and phone calls, I always have all other phone notifications turned off. In fact, I keep my phone on silent (vibrate only) because I feel more peaceful without jarring random noises startling me unexpectedly throughout the day. Exception: my phone does notify me when someone writes an actual comment on my blog, but that is so rare and personal a note worth celebrating that I like being notified of it. Another way I limit myself and prioritize in regards to social media is I always try to do my daily scripture study before I ever get onto any social media in a day.

So, my baseline social media usage is moderate, with a constant effort to minimize its hold.

The invitation: "First, I invite you to participate in a 10-day fast from social media and from any other media that bring negative and impure thoughts to your mind. Pray to know which influences to remove during your fast. The effect of your 10-day fast may surprise you. What do you notice after taking a break from perspectives of the world that have been wounding your spirit? Is there a change in where you now want to spend your time and energy? Have any of your priorities shifted—even just a little? I urge you to record and follow through with each impression." --President Russell M. Nelson

I admire our prophet for having the guts and foresight to hold us UP to such a high standard.

The preparation: Here's what I did for my version of President Nelson's social media fast: I did not look at Facebook or Instagram for ten consecutive days. I removed the Instagram app from my phone's home screen, and that blank square on the screen was an effective reminder of my fast. I do not have the Facebook app, so that was simple. I did continue writing blog posts when I was in the mood, but I let myself be less vigilant than usual.

In preparation for my fast, I also chose not to do "one last post" on Instagram or Facebook. When I first considered announcing my social media fast and couldn't figure out how to do it, I examined why that was. Exploring that question led me to re-learn this lesson: fasting is between me and God--nobody else needs to know.

[Hello, Shaina, you're writing a massively lengthy blog post about your fast! I know, but I always try to share my recent journeys on this blog, and I always do my best to share these personal/religious things in an honest straightforward real-life way. I hope it comes across how I intended.]

We don't have to "appear unto men to fast." In the New Testament when Jesus is teaching about fasting, he gives SUCH awesome direct advice:

"Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face; That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly." --Matthew 6:16-18

Since my body no longer allows me to fast from food, I see this scripture as applicable to every type of fasting, social media fasts included. Fasting is between me and God, whether I'm fasting from food, social media, or something else entirely. I am learning that what we fast from is not nearly as important as what we fast for. But that's another topic entirely.

The action: I began my fast on Sunday, October 7th. It was a little tricky to break the habit of scrolling through Instagram or Facebook when I had a spare minute, and for the first two days I felt a little lonely and empty every time I wanted to peek. But I gained momentum with my first successful day...

My first taste of liberty from social media was when I didn't see the posts about various families' general conference watching techniques and traditions. Not all my friends are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but a good number are. Some families do general conference worksheets, some do bingo, some have different candies to eat when certain topics are mentioned. Some make rainbow colored rice for their kids to play in while listening. Some have their kids sit quietly on the couch for four sessions. There are all kinds of general conference-with-kids ideas floating around on the internet. I never have done any of these complicated difficult ideas with our kids, and I always felt kind of guilty and wondered if I was doing enough for my kids during general conference. Due to my absence on social media, I was blissfully free from these irksomely semi-guilty reminders and at liberty to devise my own method.

During general conference on Sunday, we turned conference on in both our family room and in the play room (sound only in the play room, since our slow country internet does not support more than one video feed at a time). We told the kids they could play in the playroom while listening to conference. Jay and Rose each had to listen for two things that they liked/felt good about to share with our family after each session. Any time the prophet spoke, they had to come sit and watch him with us. Jeff and I watched almost the entire Sunday morning session of conference in a silent room! It was amazing! Nobody got annoyed, and everyone was happily listening! Without all of the buzzing ideas of social media, I was able to figure out the solution that worked best for our family, zero questioning, zero guilt. And we actually had a good 8-10 minute family discussion about conference topics after each session! It was a great start to my social media fast.

As part of my social media fast, I tried to reduce my dependency on my phone. I read my scriptures in the actual BOOK, not on the Gospel Library app. I also tried to read from the scriptures when I would normally have take the time to scroll through Instagram. I figured if I was going to remove a distraction, I may as well fill it with the best thing! I have seen [social media posts] that say things like "what if we treated our scriptures just like we treat our smart phones?" In other words, always have the scriptures with us, refer to them regularly, etc. I tried it and it was nifty! I didn't read my scriptures nearly as often as I would have looked at social media, but it was still a conscious useful exercise to replace one with the other. Plus I was starting President Nelson's 2.5 month Book of Mormon reading challenge and I wanted to get some PAGES read. 

By day eight of the big S-M-fast, I began looking forward to checking Instagram again. I went to bed on day ten, excited to jump back into social media the next day. But when the moment came to open my newly restored Instagram app, I hesitated. Then I started noticing the differences, effects, and benefits of the past ten days without social media. I decided to write my thoughts down before I got back onto social media.

The results: Doing my own social media fast changed my ideas about social media breaks. Even though I didn't think I was being negatively affected by social media before I fasted from it, I still noticed a positive difference in my life without it. I see the value in stepping away from the constant stream of strong opinions, heavy headlines, random pictures, click-bait links, and inane memes that are so often tangled around the nuggets of actual personal connection on social media. I also see the spiritual benefit of taking a leap of faith and doing a hard thing when the prophet invites us to.

It has been years since I fasted from food (my body breaks down without constant healthy nourishment), and I have not yet managed to establish my own version of fasting each month. This social media fast reminded me of the power of abstaining from a physical desire in order to grow closer to God. Fasting is a physical activity that strengthens the spirit. I renewed my plan to seek and find a method of monthly fasting that works for me.

I must note that during the social media fast I didn't really think it was doing too much for me. It was only at the end when I was about to resume my usual social media activities that I was prompted to pause and reflect. It's astounding how many beautiful shining lessons, big and small, I discovered as I pondered in my extra-peaceful end-of-fast state. 

Other social media fast findings:

·        I am doing better than I thought I was with my social media consumption, but there is still room for improvement. I keep my interactions positive online, but I am still affected deep down by too much scrolling past random junk in search of my friends. I didn't realize the effect of the junk until it was gone, and had been gone for ten days.

·        I missed seeing what my friends were saying and doing, and at times I felt kind of lonely at home with Amber without my social media link to the outside world. Social media provides an introvert's dream friendships! I have a great supportive group of awesome friends on social media, and I missed that framily.

·        When I really wanted to know how someone was doing, I texted them individually. I liked that not using social media encouraged me to seek out individuals rather than sift through/sip from the fire hydrant of the social media feed. 

·        I enjoyed the quiet in my life--not quiet from sound, but quiet from voices and opinions, whether political, personal, religious, anti-religious, or other voices. I didn't notice this deep quiet until I was faced with the option of getting back onto Facebook on Wednesday morning. Then I realized that I wasn't so sure I wanted to deal with that noise again already!

·        I noticed a light freedom from the feeling of obligation to share an activity or a moment online. I was free from keeping up with the narrative of my life, and free from explaining it. 

·        I liked that every time I looked at my phone's home screen, the blank spot where the Instagram app usually is reminded me of my commitment to follow the prophet. It also kept me mindful about not just abstaining from "food" (aka social media), but also doing my best to both fill that time with more meaningful activities as well as keeping me aware of how the fast was affecting me.

·        This fast made me want to limit my social media usage more carefully, especially Facebook--not take it out entirely, but only get online with a purpose and a limit in mind rather than taking every opportunity to veg and waste time endlessly scrolling without a purpose. 

·        PEACE. At the end of my social media fast, I noticed a deep inner calm, like my stomach was a stormy choppy lake before but the fast settled it smooth as glass. I felt very centered and aware of my SELF.

·        My phone battery lasted twice as long! By the end of the day during the S-M fast it was barely down into the 60% region, which is saying something because my phone battery is nearly 2 years old.

·        Testimony reaffirmed: it is always worthwhile to follow the prophet, to establish the pattern of acting on his invitations, no matter what.

The answers: Along with his invitation to do a social media fast, President Nelson asked three thought-provoking follow-up questions:

1. What do you notice after taking a break from perspectives of the world that have been wounding your spirit?
   I didn't think that my spirit was necessarily wounded when I began, but the settled sense of calm I felt deep inside at the end of the S-M fast makes me think that even if I wasn't wounded, I was ruffled. I experienced a still quiet peace that I didn't know I was missing. It has nothing to do with the absence of my friends--they are good humans; it is just a private peaceful feeling of having time to myself without any extra voices distracting me. 
2. Is there a change in where you now want to spend your time and energy?
   Yes. I want to be more intentional about the time I spend on social media. I want to log on with a time limit and a purpose in mind. In the 36 hours since my S-M fast ended, whenever I have had the impulse to quickly check Instagram, I don't automatically act on it; I pause and think first. My awareness of how I use my time is heightened, and that awareness helps me use my time more wisely.
3. Have any of your priorities shifted—even just a little?
   Yes. I don't want to get into the old "veg and scroll" habit again. When I need to veg or take a me-time break, I don't want it only to involve social media scrolling. Scrolling through other peoples' lives as a distraction from my own life is not the reason I want to get on social media. Instead I want to check social media in order to see how my friends are doing, maybe leave a comment, a greeting, or two, then get off again before I get sucked into the vortex! Social media is designed to be absorbing. The REASON for getting onto social media affects the duration, quality, and effects of the visit.

The surprise: President Nelson said "The effect of your 10-day fast may surprise you." All along the ten day journey, I didn't feel super surprised. I felt normal. Truth be told, I even felt a bit lofty about how normal I felt. I thought "well, I must be on the right track because this break from social media isn't very hard." But now that it's over and I am looking back and comparing how I feel and looking for the effects, I am surprised! Just like fasting from food, fasting from social media is not only about staying away from the thing itself. It's about making more room in my life for the spirit. Even though I didn't have a big problem with social media over-usage when I started a ten day fast from it, I still feel surprised at that deep PEACE in my heart. Is this peace from the absence of noisy voices, or is this peace from following the prophet?

Trick question: it's from both, and more.

Full disclosure: we were at a cross country meet during the first two Saturday sessions of general conference. All five of us ran races that day! Jeff and I did the 3 mile community race. (our last community race of the cross country season, thank goodness--I am stiff and sore from all of this rough terrain cross country racing!) The 3 kids all ran the half mile kids' race. Then we stayed and coached 4-5 high school races. We love the Richland Invitational--this was our third year attending as a family.

Jay, Rose, and Amber are always enthusiastic about getting ready to go home from a meet. They took turns pulling each other faster and faster over the bumpy grass. Eventually they had a wagon wreck and spilled one of the team water coolers. It was muddy.

During the last session of conference, the kids brought out boxes from the play room, made nests of blankets in them, and watched the last few talks with us while sitting in them.

Here's the photographic reward for that 3,000 words. On Tuesday, October 9th, Amber and I went on a walk "out back." The sky was moody and scenic with its puffy white clouds, which were quickly pushed aside by a dark foreboding front. The pictures I took seem dramatic and emotional enough to round off this introspective post.

Child model, with the blue steel gaze.

Light vs. dark

Amber is all of us: standing in a puddle facing the storm.

Friday playday

The kids had no school on Friday, October 12th due to a teacher in-service. I managed an 8am cross country practice alone while Jeff attended his teacher in-service meetings (progress: it is way less stressful for me to solo-coach now that the season is almost over). It was quick and I was home in no time.

After a morning of fort building, arguments, chess games, playing with a neighbor-friend, and [too] much wildness at home, the kids and I needed an outing, but I was too tired to actually go anywhere. So we ventured forth into the wide world of our backyard.

I love being outside with my kids. No pressure, no stress, just good old fashioned playtime. Usually I watch and assist more than participate actively in the kids' play, but this time I did my share of tree climbing, stick scavenging, and mud squelching. There is something to be said to letting go of adult cares and climbing a tree. 

Since I was flying solo at cross country practice, I drove around the route to keep my eye on the runners, instead of running with them. These trees in front of the middle school gave me a thrill.

The dirt piles are somehow still tall, in spite of all the digging, jumping, sliding, and stomping that they have endured.

Stabbing an old PVC pipe as deep into the dirt as possible: they actually got it nearly three feet into the ground! Then they sprinkled dirt into the pipe, removed it like Excalibur, and dumped the dirt trapped inside into the creek. Watching kids explore and play is fascinating.

The scene: dirt piles to the left, willow tree to the right, tiny irrigation creek in the middle.

Testing the bridge they built over the summer and attempting to add onto it.

Rose's bridge addition was a tad roly-poly with a bunch of sticks and two bits of PVC pipe.

Climbing the wide wide willow. Rose loves climbing trees, and Amber follows in her footsteps.

Amber nearly got up into the tree on her own. Jay gave her the tiniest boost and she was up.

Jay bravely joined us in the tree briefly, but he has never liked any kind of heights (even though we were only 5 feet off the ground), so he got down quickly.

I climbed up higher in the tree and looked down on my cute kids.

Jay took a picture of the girls in the tree. Rose's little face is peeking out above Amber's head to the left.

Rose and I hung out in the tree together for the longest.

Seven and a half, in her full glory.

Spying on Amber and Jay, who returned to the dirt piles after climbing the tree.

Rose and I went on a scavenging mission to hunt for discarded pieces of wood. We actually found one further down the creek, and brought it back to improve the first segment of the kids' bridge. The bridge zigzags across the shallow creek (Rose is on the first part, Amber is on the second part).

Standing on the sturdy summer bridge and playing in the rushing water.

Jay lounged on the creek bank and made battlements out of dirt while we constructed the bridge.

Childhood is good. I'm glad I get to be a part of it.

After almost two hours, we walked back across the field to our house. Jeff had just gotten home from work and we gathered for our weekly family movie night.

A canine conundrum

Jeff and I stayed up late on Friday night, content and luxuriating in the fact that we had no cross country team obligations on Saturday. No meet, no practice, not a high schooler in sight (our next XC meet is on Tuesday). We stayed home all day on Saturday. I woke up AFTER 7am for the first time in weeks and felt so cozy in bed, secure in the knowledge that the day would be our first completely at-home day in nearly two months. I read my scriptures in bed and was only interrupted by children four or five times.

Jeff went on a run while I ate breakfast and coached the kid through their chores. When Jeff got home, we traded places and I left on my first completely open-ended, free run in seven long weeks. I had nowhere to be afterwards, so I didn't have to hurry or plan ahead. I got to choose the distance. I got to choose the route. I got to choose the pace. Riches indeed for a lowly assistant cross country coach! I admired these sparkling treasures and grinned at the day.

Since my Achilles was feeling sore from last week's cross country meet (I ran the community race at the meet), I decided to do a loop that could be anywhere from two miles to ten miles, depending on how I felt and where I turned. It was a sunny, clear, crisp, shorts-and-long-sleeve October morning. I wore my knee high compression socks for good measure, to support my soreness and for a bit of extra warmth. After I had eased through the first mile, I started to loosen up and feel smooth and springy. I began to remember why I enjoy running alone so much, and to realize how much I have missed running out in the beautiful Sunnyside countryside over the past six weeks (we run in town near the high school for xc practices).

Sweet sunny solitude! It was me and the breeze, bordered by the sky and the road. Endorphin rush! In order to preserve the healing progress of my various sore muscles, I decided to limit my run to five miles. "How responsible I am!" I thought nobly to myself, "Because today is one of those days that I feel like I could run forever!" I turned left from Reeves Road onto Cemetery Road and let my legs go on the comfy gentle downward slope. Hello, negative splits! The valley view spread before me: grapes on one side, mint on the other, golden corn behind me.

Farther down Cemetery Road, with one mile to go, I spotted two dogs trotting in and out of the grape vines up ahead. I nearly turned right onto Arrowsmith to avoid them, but my courage (or stubbornness?) rose to the occasion. "I should be able to run on this road if I want to," I told myself, "I will not let two little dogs scare me off!" I felt a rush of gladness to be wearing my knee high socks--anti-dog-teeth-armor, however thin, is still armor. I reached into my belt and pulled out my pepper spray. I opened the nozzle and kept jogging along, armed and ready. As I approached where I thought the dogs had disappeared into the rows of grapevines, I clapped and coughed loudly a few times so I wouldn't startle them into an attack. No response, not even a rustle in the leaves.

"Will I really get off that easy?" I wondered, still clutching my pepper spray and scouring the thick rows of grapevines for doggy silhouettes as I jogged along. Fifty feet later, the dogs emerged. One was tiny and ignored me--not a threat--but the other was medium-to-large size, with traces of bulldog in its thick neck and jaws. The big dog tensed and barked. I stopped running, turned, and yelled "NO! Get away!" and waved my arms at the creature. It put its tail between its legs and loped off a few steps, then stood in the road watching me. I walked away from it, watching its eyes for signs of fire/bloodlust/anger. It didn't move. Tentatively, I started jogging away slowly, with my neck still turned back to watch the dog. It didn't move. I ran faster. I was away! I was free!

A quarter of a mile later, I reached the canal road and turned right. Four and a half miles done, half a mile to go--the home stretch. For some reason, I was still holding my pepper spray. It is always hard for me to feel safe enough to put it away after even a single dog sighting on a run. I always feel much safer and braver while clutching the small cylinder in my hand. So I kept it out, feeling slightly silly, but also slightly safer. The house on the corner of Cemetery and the canal road has always been a dog hot spot, with at least two or three tiny puffball dogs and two big dark dogs. After I called the police when their big black dog bit me a year ago, they have kept the big dogs locked up--mostly (I hear them barking and see them running around in their fence often). A few months ago, their other big dog got out and chased/circled me, barking and lunging, so I sprayed it in the face with pepper spray and made my escape, filing a second police report.

Those traumatic experiences are never far from my mind whenever I run past that house, and as I ran past that house today, two tiny puffball dogs trotted out and started yipping at me. I am pretty good at kicking ankle-biter-sized dogs, but to preserve my sore ankle, I resolved to pepper spray them if they left their yard. They stayed in the yard, and I was just starting to feel relieved when the big black dog that bit and terrorized me last year came barreling out of nowhere, barking its deep paralyzing bark and circling me, just like my nightmares, but worse. It all happened so fast, I very nearly froze in terror.

My first thought was JUMP IN THE CANAL that was behind me. Then I remembered the pepper spray that was still in my hand. Why did I close it? A fool's hope. I fumbled with the red cap while scream-yelling at the top of my lungs, spinning in a circle to keep the dog's head in view while it circled me, teeth bared, barking, and lunging. My hands were clumsy in my terror, but at last I got the cap twisted the right way. I shot a good long jet or two of fiery red liquid point blank into that black snarling mouth and nose, then pressed the button again to zigzag the beast's eyes. My aim was perfect since the dog was so close, and he got a face full, a nose full, and a mouth full.

He stopped barking, sneezed, shook his big ugly head, and then retreated. I was practically hyperventilating at this point, so I turned and walked towards home down the canal road. All of this happened in about six seconds. The dog's owner came running out and called after me "I am so sorry! I am so sorry! Shanna! Please come and talk to me!" I kept walking, too upset for her words to register. She kept repeating herself until I finally understood. She knew my name (or a version of it) because of all the trouble I've gotten her dumb dogs into. I know her name too. I slowly turned around and faced the owner, still sobbing, with about twenty feet and a snarl of rusty barbed wire between us.

"I am so sorry he got out! I don't know how he got out! Did he bite you?" she asked.

"No," I sobbed, "but only because I sprayed him in the face with my pepper spray!" [gasp, sob] The dog walked over to the owner and she reached down and patted him lovingly, and it could've been the rage, adrenaline, indignation, and fear gushing through my system, but I got the impression she was checking the dog for damage, like the big mean runner sprayed him in the face, poor baby. I saw red.

The dog owner then said "I am going to look for a new home for him. Please don't call the police!" Indignation very nearly rendered me incoherent--indignation and the panicky sobs gasping out of my chest. I kept telling her "I can't THINK right now, I am terrified! I need to go HOME!" But she kept pleading. Here's the progression of what she said:

"I got rid of my other dog already, and I have been looking for a new home for this one. I don't want him to die! I will find a new home for him. I want to take him to a rescue center." I told her, mid-sob, "this dog is a registered bite dog--rescue places [probably] won't take him!" She couldn't dispute that likely fact, so she resumed with another round of pleading. "Please don't call the police! I'm begging you. I'll find a new home for him--my aunt will take him. She said she'd take him."

I told her that the animal control officer will get my message on Monday. I think she only heard part of that sentence, because she thanked me over and over, and said "he will be gone by Monday--he will have a new home by the end of the day today!" I walked away, still sobbing and gasping for air uncontrollably. I was MAD and SCARED, but somehow her pleas for the life of the beast made me feel bad, and I did not want to feel guilty for calling the police on a dog that has sought my blood at every opportunity for the entire past year and a half! My run was ruined. I stopped my forgotten watch and slowly sob-walked my way home, utterly spent and broken.

It took me nearly the entire half mile walk to get a grip and be able to stop crying freely with gasping traumatized sobs. Not in the mood to start sobbing again, or answer questions, I slipped inside without saying hi to my family and went straight to the shower, where I soothed away my tears in the steamy hot water. Crying gives me a thick-eyed heavy-brained headache. Yuck. Still superficially composed, I got dressed and went to find Jeff. I told him the whole story and how I was kind of feeling bad about calling the police and maybe I should give the lady a(nother) chance, but the look on his face made me realize I was wrong. Jeff said "she's lucky we aren't going to SUE her." Husbandly indignation is oddly comforting.

The dog owner broke the law repeatedly by not keeping control of her dangerous vicious animal. If she were to give her dog away, it would simply endanger different people elsewhere. Plus, why should I believe her empty promises to even get rid of the dog? She never even paid the doctor bill I had from last year when her dog bit me, even though when I asked her at the time, she told me she would put a check in the mail that same day. The check never came. And her pleading words today went from "I'm looking for a new home for my dog" all the way to "My aunt said she'd take him; he'll be gone by tonight." What am I supposed to believe? My instinct is to trust people, but she has already broken my trust repeatedly over the past year. UGH.

I have to admit, I resent being made to feel guilty for reporting this dog again. The dog owner was kind of alarming in her begging and pleading. But what else can I do? It's not just my own safety I'm concerned with. So stop making me feel bad about trying to keep our roads safe! UGH!

After talking with Jeff, I texted the deputy, then continued telling Jeff about how absolutely traumatized and terrified I felt. A few tears escaped. I hate crying. I hate being scared. I hate dogs. I hate dumb irresponsible dog owners. I hate dealing with the emotional aftermath of dog attacks. I hate the post-terror/adrenaline SLUMP. It is real. I felt like a wrung out dishrag for the rest of the day. Dog attacks are ALWAYS worse in person than in memory, probably because the cumulative memory of them crumbles my psychological strength right along with my ability to cope with the situation. Hello, PTSD, will I ever overcome you?

As I was telling Jeff about my run, I noticed a small tender mercy tucked away amidst the big scary events. While running, I usually say a little prayer for safety. This time I prayed a vague "please keep me safe from dogs." Sometimes I am much more specific, like "please don't let a dog come out into the street or get too close to my legs" or "please don't let me hear any dogs barking." But this time it came out as a simple plea for safety. I realized several things as I processed this experience:

When I saw the two benign dogs up ahead, I felt awful about continuing down the road, and I really thought I should turn and go around them. I attributed the feeling to fear rather than inspiration, though, and ignored it. I am too accustomed to suppressing my various fears to recognize this feeling as more.

·        Even if I was emotionally scarred from the experience, the dog did no physical harm.

·        The reason I had my pepper spray in my hand when the evil dog charged was because I had gotten it out when I saw the benign dogs on the horizon.

·        Sometimes dogs can be the answer to an anti-dog prayer. The benign dogs prepped me for the evil dog. I realize that this seems like a rather bleak observation, but I know that it was divine help.

This morning (Monday) I got a text and a phone call from the animal control deputy, and I agreed to pursue criminal charges. WHO AM I?? WAHHH! Even though that's really the only option left at this point, I feel so icky about the whole affair. I dread having a neighbor think ill of me, but she won't control her animals! The dog owner is getting two citations: one for failing to control a level 5 bite dog and another for a level 2 dog escape (when the dog gets out into the road and intimidates a passerby). The deputy said it's very likely that the owner will dispute the charges and I will have to go testify in court! I don't want to! It all just feels so yucky. It seems like there has to be a better way, but I tried mercy and patience with this dog owner--over a year of it--and this was the third time that one of her dogs has gotten out to scare the living daylights out of me. I am an emotional wreck around big barking dogs! It's kind of embarrassing, but I can't help it! UGH!

At the end of our phone conversation, the police officer said "I can't tell you not to go running over there, but you do need to protect yourself." I understand that he is just trying to keep people safe, but in my sensitive emotional state it felt like another accusation, like this dog attack was my fault for continuing to run on the road that I live on. On top of the dog owner's pleas, this admonition felt abrasive in my already clenched, concerned stomach. I feel stuck in a very uncomfortable position. It all comes down to my distaste for confrontation. I just want it to be solved without my being dragged over the fiery coals of conflict along the way! My current number one solution is to become a hermit so I never have to deal with people or their stupid dogs again.

Maybe it's a good thing that the law is intervening in my behalf.

September tidbits

October is well underway and I haven’t quite let go of September yet. Where did the first month of school go? Here is an album of everyday pictures from September. I used the “circles” option on the photo choices menu, but if you click on a picture, it links to a gallery where the pictures can be viewed at full size. I started doing captions for each picture, but I want the text here in the post and the captions don’t show up under the circular photos, so here’s a list of the photographed September happenings:

• September provided some spectacular sunrises, and on our one and only September Saturday without a cross country meet, I got to go on a sunrise run before heading on to the cross country team’s fundraiser, the Grizzlython. The runners collected pledges per kilometer. It was simple and helped the combined track and cross country budgets pay for a timing system.
• Marble run: Amber and I got out the marble run one day. It was a bit heavy on the physics for 8am, but we figured it out and Amber didn’t even knock it down too much in her excitement.
• Jay and Rose wore their school t-shirts for spirit day.
• Amber and I have been spending loads of quality time together. My goal this school year is to do or provide one interesting, and/or athletic activity for her each day. Sometimes we do the activities together (like the marble run), and other times she does the activities on her own (today I gave her a bucket of dry beans to play with). Pictured:
• Trampoline time together
• Amber enjoyed operating the peanut butter machine at Winco.
• We wore hats together on a morning ramble (I lifted Amber into the tree, at her request).
• Rose and Amber have matching floral leggings. I took a picture the first day they wore them together. When Rose left for school, Amber and I went on a walk over to the dust hill, per her request, whereupon she proceeded to saturate her brand new pretty pants in fine white dust. That is why I wait for Old Navy’s legging sale and buy them when they’re $4 apiece!
• On the dusty hill behind our house, Amber eventually removed her socks and shoes to get the full body experience, and she alternately ran up and down the steep hill and buried herself in the thick deep dust.
• All of that dust-digging made Amber hungry and she climbed into our funny little pantry in search of a snack when we got home.
• Jay and Rose before school again–apparently I like to take pictures of them while they wait for the school bus in the morning. I never mentioned that officially on the blog: during September, Jay and Rose started riding the bus TO school for the first time ever. It comes at 8am so it’s not too early, and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I mean, a guarantee that they will get to school on time without the dread morning ordeal of wrestling Amber into her car seat while she kicks and flails? YES PLEASE.
• I took pictures of three messy rooms: the girls’ bedroom, Jay’s bedroom, and the playroom. During the busy-ness of cross country season, I have been choosing to spend my at-home time either with my kids or letting them play happily instead of forcing them to clean over and over. They clean their rooms whenever I ask them to, but in the blink of an eye the mess reappears. So mostly I just close the door and leave it, to protect my sanity.
• Rainbow mural picture: Amber and I hung out at the middle school when I sub-coached a middle school cross country practice one day. I liked the bright happy painting on the back of the building.
• I am Jeff’s assistant coach, and Amber is my assistant coach. She loves to pull the team water wagon.
• Awkward selfie: on September 28th, I was officially officially hired as the assistant high school cross country coach, after being finger printed and filling out my paperwork. Then I had to take four online coaching courses about things like concussions and team uniform regulations. The state requires each of the four quizzes to be passed with 100%, so I had to re-take three of the four quizzes. It was a relief to get them DONE.
• Team cross country photo: the few, the proud who showed up to run as many kilometers as they could in 90 minutes for our fundraiser Grizzlython. Jeff, Jay, Rose, and Amber made the poster and we kept track of everyone’s laps (2.3 kilometers per lap) on the poster. Afterwards, we went to a team member’s house and had brunch. These kids are a fun group. Now if only we can get our attendance up…
• Sleepover at Grama and Grampa’s house: the night before our last super-early cross country meet wakeup (4am), Jay, Rose, and Amber slept over at Grama Leslie’s and Grampa Dan’s house so they wouldn’t have to get up so early and ride the bus with us to Wenatchee (2.5 hours away). Later that day, the Whites drove up to the meet and brought our kids to us. Walla Walla Point Park in Wenatchee is a gorgeous park with a good playground and a massive sandbox (circle shaped) that entertained the kids nicely while Jeff and I finished up coaching the last few races of the day. We did the phone-in-a-baggie trick so the kids could watch a movie on the bus ride home.
• Mother/daughter girls’ night! Steph, Leslie, and I went to a local theater production of Mama Mia, wherein one of our friends had a role, and another friend sewed the costumes. We had such deeply satisfying belly laughs during the super trooper/grand finale reprise of the music! Excellente.
• Amber likes to bake with me. It is a tad stressful with her grabbing, spilling, licking, and reaching, but I much prefer it to baking alone and then discovering that Amber has painted the bathroom mirror in Vaseline again. I don’t think I could make these things up.
• My daughters give such different types of snuggles: Rose has always been so cuddly and loves snuggling up under a blanket together for as long as possible. After a good night sleep, Amber wakes up so happy that she must hug me till my eyeballs pop out, then she dashes off to another intense venture.
• My sweet Grama sent Jay, Rose, and Amber (her great grandchildren) a kind card in the mail a few weeks ago. Amber still likes to get her card out and talk about how “Grama Julie loves Amber.” It is the sweetest thing Amber does right now, besides plastering my cheeks with wet kisses.
• Ambox.
• Not pictured, but memorable: Amber likes to play animals with her cousins, and during September she started acting like a kitty more and more often around the house. It’s funny because instead of saying hi, she’ll walk up and say “meow.” When she wants something, she says “meow, meow, meow!” but it comes out in a shrill alley-cat sort of tone, and it cracks me up every time. Often she scampers away down the hall on all fours, meow-howling all the way. Amby the alley cat.
• Also not pictured: Rose was a student of the month at school in September. The recognition assembly happened to be on the one and only day she stayed home sick during the entire month, but they still gave her a coupon for a free hamburger and Burger Ranch the next day. Jay said “it’s going to be hard to be student of the month in my class this year because there are so many good kids!” YES for challenges of all types at school!
• Jay and Rose astounded me with their responsibility after school during September. They dutifully did their chore and homework, and it was smooth as butter. If only we could channel that cooperation into our morning routine…but then maybe life would be too easy…