Father's Day

Father's Day. The day is not about me at all, but I still rode a rollercoaster at church, so I shall write about it. I survived! I didn't do great, but I didn't FUMBLE desperately while playing piano during sacrament meeting today like I did on Mother's Day. I had planned on taking one of Jeff's anxiety pills, but I got sick on Thursday and did not have the chance to test the possible lightheaded side effects of the pill before Sunday. I decided not to take it in order to avoid a possible fainting spell during church.

Things I did to disperse my nerves instead:

•    When we got to church 12 minutes early, I went to the primary room to play through the songs one more time. I had just finished playing them at home ten minutes prior, but home is my safe zone and practicing a more public environment under the influence of my pesky Church Nerves got some kinks out before the performance.
•        Lots of positive self-talk.
•        When my friend and her family sat down behind us in church and asked a casual "how are you?" I couldn't bring myself to answer with a generic dishonest "fine," so I expounded my anxieties to her and she was sympathetic. She may never have the fortitude to ask "how are you" to me again, because I started off with "I'll be better in three hours!" and went on from there, HAH. But it was therapeutic not to keep all of my worries completely bottled up. For some reason it helps to have someone in the room besides my husband KNOW how utterly terrifying going up front is to me.
•        ENDLESS deep breathing--it's a miracle I didn't hyperventilate!
•     I said several desperate prayers for peace and help leading up to the performance. Peace gently came to my heart, calming jumping pulse. Every time my mind wandered, the peace fled in fear, so had to pray/ask for it every five minutes straight through the meeting, but it kept coming back!

Right after the sacrament, Amber (who was sitting on my lap) said she had to go potty (a minor miracle in itself), so I dashed out with her during the youth speaker's talk, with grim visions of Amber peeing on my navy blue dress and then having to walk up in front of the ward with a big ole pee stain on my front. We walk-jogged to that bathroom at top speed! When we got back 3-4 minutes later, the youth speaker was long done (!) and the primary kids were mostly assembled on the stand. I had to power walk to our pew, grab my music, and quickly walk up front, pausing at the chorister to ask him which song we were singing first. The young men and young women were also up front to sing with the primary kids, so I had to really squeeze my way through the crowd to reach the piano. 

Deep breaths. 

Arrange the bench.

Sit down. 

Deep breath. 

Slide cold shaky sweaty fingers onto keys. 

Wrong note.

Pause.

Deep breath. 

Hmm...do I play the entire song through or just part of it? I opted for the entire song to give everyone time to get settled, then launched into the song again and the singing began! I'm so glad when Daddy comes home should always be sung by kids ages 3 all the way up to 18. It is excellent with teenagers involved. I think the 17 year old boys actually blew "a great big kiss" to the congregation, but I could be wrong--I was experiencing mild tunnel vision at that point, just me, the piano keys, and the music.

Thankfully the chorister stood up so I could see him conduct this time, not that I had too many opportunities to glance away from my music (tunnel vision), but still. It helped. I felt shaky but not that ultra-panicky feeling that I was dreading--just a moderate version of it, closer to Church Nerves than full-on Performance Panic. My anxiety did kind of build the longer I played up front, but the songs were just barely bearable enough and well-practiced enough that I was able to hang on to the end. It was close though. I played Daddy's Homecoming ("I'm so glad when Daddy comes home"), then the Our Bishop song ("he's the father of our ward"), and then it was over! 

There was a second musical number after the next speaker, made up of seven men singing a dramatic arrangement of How Great Thou Art. It was beautiful. I love it when men sing LOUD, in tune, and in harmony with each other. These guys did it all. Direct hymns of praise bring the spirit so fast and strong. 

And the two speakers around the musical numbers gave heartfelt, personalized talks that weren't specifically about fathers, but left me feeling immensely grateful for my own dad and my husband, as well as humbled by the enormous blessing that they are to me. It was all extremely well done.

For Father's day, the primary kids all had their classes during the second hour and then were all together in a big group for singing time during the third hour of church. So I was a free woman for the middle hour of church--no piano! Time to recoup some of my shattered nerves and gear up for the next meeting! Jeff generously offered to let me accompany him to his 16-18 year old Sunday school class, but I decided that gospel doctrine with the grownups was mildly less intimidating than facing 12 teenagers. It was a close call, but I was nurturing my nerves here, so I had to go as easy on them as possible. I buckled on my courage and went to gospel doctrine class (studying the Old Testament this year--eek!). The only open chairs when I arrived were on the front row. I couldn't face sitting front and center, so I sat on the side-front next to a kind grandmotherly lady whose name I remembered, as I was happy to discover. 

The kind grandmotherly lady to her left handed me her paper with a question on it that the teacher had given her, asking me if I would answer it instead because she didn't know the answer. I took the paper with a tentative/joking "well if you don't know the answer, I doubt I do!" I haven't spent any serious time in the Old Testament since high school seminary class. As I read the question about Saul and Samuel, my old friends the Church Nerves quaked back into gear again. Why can't I just not get nervous? I guess for the same reason I can't "just not" be six feet tall. It's a Shaina attribute. I should add it to my list: Nerves of Jell-O. 

Thankfully, the Gospel doctrine teacher overheard our exchange about not knowing the answer and she graciously helped me out when it was time to answer the tough question. I even managed to contribute a tiny little bit to the answer, whew. Then something crazy happened halfway through the lesson: I raised my hand and answered a question!! I don't know what got into me, honestly, (reckless abandon? giddy post-piano aftermath? overwrought nerves? death wish?) I am finding that if any thought comes to me during a church lesson, I must raise my hand immediately or else I will talk myself out of saying it to the class every single time. So without thinking any further, I popped my hand into the air and talked briefly about how Saul's wrong action wasn't the real problem; it was the attitude behind his action, since everything done in the Old Testament is symbolic anyways. That sudden insight left me feeling slightly fake because I had absolutely nothing else to contribute for the rest of the lesson. I sat in mild shock that I had managed to open my mouth in front of 30 adults not once, but twice! Maybe there is something to be said about sitting on the front row. Due to my primary pianist responsibilities, I probably won't have the opportunity to attend adult Sunday school for another year, so I guess I made it count today!

Right after the closing prayer of Sunday school, I jumped up and power walked to the primary room, where I played prelude until opening exercises and sharing time. For the last half hour of church, all of the primary kids went over to the gym to meet up with all of the men from priesthood plus the teenagers, for a combined singing time father's day game show. It was a fun activity, as long as I didn't think too hard about the fact that the entire ward (minus the 30-ish relief society sisters) was in the gym singing while I played! Thankfully the piano was:

•      much nicer than the piano in the primary room--it played so smooth and dreamy, it was love at first note!
•      facing away from the audience, so I could not see the massive crowd sitting behind me while I played. Even though I could hear their many combined voices while they sang, it still made a difference not to be able to SEE anyone. I am ridiculous, I know. But the illusion of anonymity is often just as effective as the actuality.

So there you have it. Church on Father's Day. Jeff bore the brunt of Amber's pummeling during sacrament meeting, which was not ideal, but she chose him this week and we know not to cross swords with Amber on trivial matters like whose lap she sits on and mangles during church.

Now for the after church stuff: we had a quiet afternoon at home together with the crock pot simmering, then at 5:30pm Dan and Leslie (Jeff's parents) came over for dinner. I encouraged Jeff to trace his hand on a card for his dad, which he did with great results. We had BBQ pork sandwiches, coleslaw, and watermelon on the font porch, and I even made dessert: brownies and ice cream. It was a nice calm family gathering. After dinner Jeff took us all into the playroom and we had a song-boxing competition on his VR headset that left us all breathless, laughing, and slightly sweaty. Hugs all around! Bye bye grandparents, bedtime for the kids.

Happy Father's Day.

I wanted these pictures to have better color/white balance and framing and posing, but we had about 3 minutes before we left for church, so we did the quick front-of-the-house snapshot. Jay told me that he told himself jokes in his head to make himself laugh and do a "real smile."

I told Jay to write Jeff a letter for Father's Day, and the boy proved once again his way with words: "To Daddy. I love you because you are my dad and the greatest man in the world to me. I love talking with you and paying games with you. I hope you have a happy father's day. With love from Jay"

Rose's Father's Day art was colorful and prolific, as always. [Jeff and Rose under a rainbow together.]

Sweet Rosie. I traced Amber's hands and she scribbled all over them for her contribution to the homemade father's day cards. I didn't get a picture of it though.

Our new family tradition: how long will Jeff be able to pick up all three of his children? It gets harder every year. The first time we did this Father's Day pose was five years ago with little Jay and little Rose. Then we missed a few years, and began it again last year. This year was tricky, but Jeff prevailed.

My heart in a picture.

Brush with greatness

As a general rule, I resist the "fan culture." In other words, my personal dignity resists setting awesome/accomplished/admirable people on a pedestal, whether I know them personally or not. I still admire plenty of people for their various skills, good works, and contributions to society, but I balk at raising them higher than the status of HUMAN BEING, like so many movie stars, athletes, singers, etc. seem to be these days. 

However, I do still have a small collection of people I "admire from afar" via social media. True to my interests, my list of greats includes mostly authors and pro runners, with the occasional ecclesiastical giant in the mix. I dislike having a bunch of strangers in my social media feeds, so I only follow a handful of public figures:

·        Kara Goucher, wife, mother, sense of humor, pro distance runner and Olympian

·        Shalane Flanagan, Olympian, pro marathoner, cookbook writer, and advocate for healthy eating.

·        Stephanie Bruce, no-nonsense mother of two, pro runner, married to a pro runner

·        Sarah Bessey, Canadian lady-preacher, wife, mother, writer.

·        Wendelin Van Draanen, author extraordinaire of 30 of my favorite books, runner, wife, mother.

·        Nichole Van, witty Amazon author, travels and lives abroad, wife, mother.

Clearly I admire strong, intelligent mothers of all ages with quick wit, deep thoughts, and shared interests. I could easily add a long list of real-life beloved, deeply respected and admired friends, all whom I know 100 times better than this list of admirable people. I could also add a long list of beloved church leaders. But I'm writing specifically about the intriguing modern phenomena of social media personas and followings, so I'll try to focus on that.

I find it equally awesome and weird that it is possible to make friends online without meeting in person. I have a cherished handful of dear friends whom I have rarely, if ever, met in person, but we have built and maintained our friendship via correspondence.

The one-sided nature of most "public figure friendships" via social media following is far stranger than two-sided long distance friendships. Why do we want to have a one-sided friendship with random people who barely even know we exist? We are weird! But it is fun to see how these interesting people navigate life. We're all in this world together. 

The only person on my list that I even slightly "know" outside of social media is Wendelin Van Draanen, since I have owned and loved her books for over a decade, exchanged emails and blog comments with her a few times, and met her twice in person at book signings. I always think I'd be good friends with all of my greats, but both times I met Wendelin in person, I froze up and had no clue what to say! I'll attribute that to my introvert superpower of small talk avoidance and the awkward feeling that I know her better than she knows me because I have spent HOURS of my life reading her books, aka glimpsing her beautiful SOUL, so where to even start and end a five minute conversation? 

I remember one time when Kara Goucher and I bonded over the shared experience of a mid-run dog attack. (I commented on her tale of woe and she liked my comment. HAH! A feeble connection, if that.) There is something about being SEEN by these powerhouse people. With all of their incredible experiences and personal sharing with the public, they feel like my friends. It means something for a quiet bystander to be acknowledged. It means something to be acknowledged not just by anyone, but by one who has shared a similar experience. Shared experiences unite us! Shared experiences give me a pleasant sense of connection with humanity. 

With everyone on my list of greats, I have the illusion of friendship solely via Instagram, books, and blogs. But they are human beings too, so I self-consciously started adding a message or a comment on their posts every now and then, human-to-human. Then I grinned and giggled like a ridiculous fangirl when my comments were acknowledged. 

Basically, I negate all of my "resistance to fan culture" and thoroughly enjoy each and every "brush with greatness."

Most recently, I had what amounts to an "Instagram conversation" with an author I recently discovered (Nichole Van). I grinned wider with every comment we exchanged because she is an intelligent, quick-witted, interesting human being. It was FUN to write a halfway clever comment to a beloved author, whose books have made me laugh aloud over and over, and have her respond with a laugh and a few related sentences. It felt like I was returning the favor of humor-with-a-glimpse-of-depth that her books have given me. The best authors always make me feel like we are good friends because they infuse their books with such personality. I enjoy getting to know parts of them through their books. 

Just as we all are drawn to different people and hobbies, each person's list of "greats" is different, I'm sure. That tells me that "fame" is relative. From my perspective, Kara, Shalane, Steph, Sarah, Wendelin, and Nichole are total ROCKSTARS. But few of my real-life friends even know who all of these ladies are! What on earth am I trying to say? 

It's not the fame I like; it's the PEOPLE--people who pursue their passions and go all out in the quest of living their dream (and so forth). I am in awe of them and grateful that they are willing and brave enough to share pieces of themselves and their experiences with the rest of us.

Maybe I am drawn to these greats because I am an intense person. I feel strongly about my interests, and each of these great women share at least one of my passions and have taken those passions much farther than me. There are few people who understand the depths of my feelings regarding my passions and accept them at face value, so it's refreshing to have access to people who feel as strongly, if not stronger, about the same things that interest me.

I may not be anywhere close to an elite runner speed-wise, but running is important to me beyond mere exercise.

I may not particularly enjoy cooking, but an overall healthy lifestyle is a big part of me.

I may be one of many Mormon moms, but parenting with purpose and faith are vital to me.

I may not be anywhere close to writing a book, but writing is my #1 favorite form of expression.

I may only get to travel abroad once a year at most, but I adore it so.

When I watch (and occasionally interact with) my list of greats, I feel validated and supported in my passions. I especially love how each of these women has pursued her passions while championing her family life above all. YES! 

Speaking of family life, how about a few snapshots from the past week or so? 

• Amber got out the wading pool all by herself and filled it with water and then dirt. It's messy but she sure loves it.
• Heading out for girls night wearing my antisocial shirt, with basic essentials tucked in my purse.
• At lunchtime the other day, Amber reached for the Nutella jar and said "I need to smell it!" [nose in the jar, deep sniff] "Mmm, it's a-licious."
• Sister art time.
• Swim stroke practice for the boy.
• Saturday morning run with my Rose-girl. She saw me getting ready to leave on a run and asked "can I come?"
• One of my Insta-exchanges with Nichole Van had me pondering and appreciating the beauty in a cloudy gray sky.
• I mean, blue skies are gorgeous, but would I appreciate them as much as I do after a cloudy day?
• On Sunday I attempted to wear a necklace and my diamond ring, but the necklace itched and the diamond ring slipped all over the place. I only lasted ten minutes before putting them both carefully away in my tiny jewelry box again. I took a picture to track my efforts at accessorizing, however feeble they may be.
• Jeff sometimes lets Rose put his hair into tiny tight spiky ponytails. This particular day, after practicing braiding my hair, she gave Jeff twelve ponytails, each with a bow clipped onto it. Jeff is one in a million. Rose also dressed to match Jeff's outfit. Seven year old girls are so awesome. 

Come boldly

This is a Shaina-scripture-study notes post. I always appreciate insights into what others do during their daily scripture time, so I thought I’d share my latest. I do not always come away with paragraphs of insights. In fact usually, I read a little, get interrupted, and then try again tomorrow.

All week I have been doing just that, with extra interruptions. 

One morning I prayed over my scriptures “I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, but please help me to make it count!” and right when I ended my prayer, the telltale stomp of kids’ feet came for me before I even read a word. Half an hour later, I opened my scriptures app and prayed again “I’m back! Help it to last this time!” and I was finally able to squeeze in ten or fifteen minutes of thoughtful study. Normally I stick with the Book of Mormon and General Conference talks because quality over quantity is my mantra with personal time right now. But over the past week, I have been exploring the new Gospel Topics section of the LDS Gospel Library app. It makes actually STUDYING the scriptures so much easier for your average swamped-busy-parent.

The new Gospel Topics study list is amazing! It feels like cheating to have all of those references organized so neatly, but I am taking advantage of it anyways. In conjunction with my memorization of The Living Christ, I began with the topic “Atonement of Jesus Christ” last week, and got distracted partway through by one of the scripture references listed: Hebrews 4:14-16. Verse 16 really caught my eye and led me over to study grace.

Hebrews 4:14-16

14 Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession.

15 For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

16 Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.

First I read all of the footnotes in these three verses. Then I went back and read the entire chapter. Next I read the whole chapter plus all of the footnotes. Studying the scriptures on a smartphone is so sleek, fast, and easy! After carefully considering the words in Hebrews chapter 4, I came up with a few conclusions of my own from these three verses:

• Jesus Christ is no longer on the earth, so it is important for those of us who follow him to “hold fast our profession” aka, stay true and faithful to his teachings, and share his gospel and his love.
• During his mortal life, Jesus felt temptation just like us, but he was able to face them without sinning. He knows what REAL LIFE feels like. What a massive feat to overcome the endless daily setbacks and frustrations–big and small–without succumbing to any kind of negative reaction or sin! Basically, he understands what it’s like because he’s been there. He is approachable.
• Since Jesus Christ has atoned for our sins and has experienced temptations without committing sin himself, we can feel secure in his loving understanding of our situation when we come unto His throne of grace. We can come unto him with confidence and receive not only mercy and forgiveness, but also spiritual healing and powerful divine assistance to continue onward!

As I broke down these three verses on my own, I noticed what a well-crafted progression it is, from the main big idea to the meat of the matter: follow Jesus Christ’s example, remember that he loves you and understands your situation firsthand, and come unto him with confidence for help anytime. What a simple, effective pattern.

Next I moved on to study grace in the nifty new Gospel Topics section of the LDS Gospel Library app. My favorite parts: “Grace is the help or strength given through the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ…The word grace, as used in the scriptures, refers primarily to enabling power and spiritual healing offered through the mercy and love of Jesus Christ…To receive this enabling power, we must obey the gospel of Jesus Christ…and try to follow [his] teachings for the rest of our lives.”

So, replacing grace with those helpful explanatory words, verse 16 could say:

“Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of Christ’s enabling power and spiritual healing, that we may obtain mercy, and find love and strength through His atonement to help in time of need.”

I would punctuate it differently, but for comparison purposes I stuck with the King James version.

Why boldly? I kept asking myself. Boldly means “in a confident and courageous way, showing a willingness to take risks.” I am not a bold person in general. It takes me a whole lot of mental preparation to kick any feeble flame of courage into gear. I approach most new situations with caution and reserve. But maybe that’s my answer:

•  Coming unto the throne of grace should be such a regular occurrence that it is no longer a new unfamiliar situation. Even a naturally timid person like me can feel courageous and even bold in a familiar situation.
• Mental preparation is vital when accessing the enabling power and strength given through God’s grace.
•   It is never a risk to come unto Christ.
•  Approaching God with confidence implies regular repentance.
• Boldness is not required or necessary in every situation.
• The knowledge that God loves each of us unconditionally can also give us confidence to request his help. Unconditional love provides a safe space to work in.

This is where I am right now in my study. I have started reading the list of references from prophets and church leaders under grace. There is SO MUCH MORE material–the list just keeps scrolling! This study has really only just begun.

“God loves us deeply, perfectly, and everlastingly. I cannot even begin to estimate ‘the breadth, and length, and depth, and height [of] the love of Christ.’ A powerful expression of that love is what the scriptures often call the grace of God–the divine assistance and endowment of strength by which we grow from the flawed and limited beings we are now into exalted beings of ‘truth and light’.” –Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf.

Grace helps us learn, grow, and progress.

Grace is a powerful expression of God’s love.

“Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.”

I am so thankful for grace and the pure love behind it.

SOURCES, cited Shaina-style as usual:

·        The Living Christ: the Testimony of the Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, on lds.org.

·        The New Testament: Hebrews 4:14-16

·        Gospel Topics: Grace, in the LDS Gospel Library app, also available on lds.org.

·        “The Gift of Grace” by Dieter F. Uchtdorf, April 2015 General Conference

My family is about as bold as they come:

Exhibit A: Rose is the boldest of us all.

Exhibit B: Jay, shooting a water gun at my face when I was wearing clothing. Grampa Dan and Grama Leslie got a small above-ground pool this year for grandkids to swim in, and it has been a hit! I just don’t want to get a jet of pool water in my face.

Exhibit C: Amber, standing on top of our house’s funky old, GLASS underground greenhouse of uncertain sturdiness with a one story DROP beneath her feet. We did our best to scold-scare her sufficiently that so far she has not repeated this feat.

Reverse piggy back ride at bedtime: the only way to capture Amber after 5pm. 

Jay joined the summer swim team this week, somehow managing to pass the swim test (across the short side of the pool. After practice the first night (Monday, June 4th), he said “I did breast stroke and the free-for-all” (freestyle–haha). He is impressing us all with his optimism. On night three he said “Everyone else passed me lots of times, but it was still fun.” The boy loves water. I love how his enthusiasm is not dampened by skill differentials. I also love those wee hips squinched into the speedo-jammer-suit. Nine year old boys may be the best inventions ever.

MUD. Sunday dress. Ambyyy!

Took this one while I was trying to type this post. Amber was stretching my lips and cheeks in a most distracting way. I finally got her some yogurt and a crumpet and she retreated.

Yesterday’s post-errands temple walk nearly became a swim. Par for the course with my wild Amby-animal. I definitely broke into a sweat following this speedy flighty child around in the warm sunshine, and we were only there for 12 minutes!

We walk a fine line between irreverence and full-body appreciation of the temple’s many beauties.

Every time we go to the temple, we take a selfie. When Amber is a grownup, she will have nearly one picture per month of her early childhood with her mom at the temple. Mostly these temple selfies all look the same, but I love collecting them. We were there.

Hood to Coast WA

I have this friend who loves to do difficult races and relays. She thrives on a hearty athletic challenge and relay races are one of her specialties. When she put together a team to run Hood to Coast WA this year, Jeff and I joined up. The original Hood to Coast relay is a 200-ish mile, 2-day team relay race running from Mt. Hood all the way to the Oregon coast. Apparently the race owners/directors expanded the race brand to other locations, keeping the same main name and tacking on an explanatory suffix as needed. We ran the Hood to Coast-WA relay without ever even catching a glimpse of Mt. Hood!

In contrast to its Oregon counterpart, the Washington version of “Hood to Coast” is only a one-day relay, ostensibly reducing the sleep deprivation factor present in the longer relay races. However, since the 4:45am race start was an hour-long drive from the lakehouse where we spent the night, and since we drove 3.5 hours all the way home to Sunnyside when the race was over, we were still awake for 22 hours straight–nearly all of Saturday, June 2nd. Each runner ran two legs of the relay, for a total of 12 legs to cover the 77 mile course.

On Jeff’s birthday (Friday, June 1st) we picked the kids up after school and drove the 3.5 hours straight to my parents’ lakehouse in Bonney Lake, WA. We picked up some pizza for dinner in Ellensburg at a tasty place called Brooklyn’s Pizza (thank you, Google search). I brought birthday candles and brownies with us in the car, but we did not manage to do that portion of Jeff’s birthday festivities on his actual birthday. After 36 birthdays, Jeff was ok with waiting to blow out his candles, although we did give him his presents and sing to him first thing on Friday morning before he left for work.

My mom played with our kids all day on Saturday at the lake while Jeff and I ran the relay with our friends. The six of us–Ashleigh, Carina, Jeremy, Leslie, Jeff, and I (listed in order of relay leg number)–piled into Ashleigh’s minivan at 3:15am on Saturday morning and drove to Lake Isabella State Park to begin the relay. In order to avoid a stampede, groups of 20 teams started running every 15 minutes. The staggered start ensured a steady stream of runners on the route all day rather than an unwieldy massive group running all at once.

One of the fun parts of a relay race is passing people. “Relay slang” refers to passing someone as a “kill.” As the team ringer (aka, he ran 2-5 minutes per mile faster than the rest of the team), Jeff was looking forward to wracking up a massive “kill count” during his legs. Relay tradition dictates that teams tally their “kills” in window paint on the outside of their van. When we were decorating our van’s windows with some borrowed window markers, we quickly devised an inter-team competition: Jeff vs. the rest of us. Who would get the most kills? Aka, who would pass the most people? It turned out to be a close competition! Basically it takes five average runners to compete with one Jeff! Haha.

Jeff ran leg five of the relay, and I ran leg six. So when Jeff handed off to me, I asked him “how many??” and he told me his number of kills. It was my job to make up the difference and keep our kill tally higher than Jeff’s. During my first leg I thought I’d never get enough kills to beat Kill King Jeff, but then three planets aligned:

• I managed to hydrate sufficiently before my run.
• The six mile route I ran was nearly completely covered in SHADE.
• I felt AMAZING and energetic.

I also managed not to start off too fast, and consequently I was flying by the last couple of miles! The road rolled up and down, up and down with hills just long enough to feel the burn but just short enough to push through and really cruise down the other side. I loved it! I averaged 8 minute miles for my six mile first leg! And I got enough kills to pull our side ahead by 4 points at the half.

“Is swooshing basketballs or scoring soccer goals this heady and exciting?” I wondered to myself as I passed another runner.

I have had a whole lot of disappointing races in my life where I did not perform as well as I wanted to or where the run was more of an agonizing death march than an exciting race. But I was totally in the zone on this run! I took a calculated risk and sped up, again and again. It was so fun, I was a little giddy! I ran up behind a tall guy, tucked in at his shoulder, and then matched my stride exactly to his for a quarter of a mile, resting in his shadow. Then I blew past him and ran down my next kill. It was all immensely satisfying. Finally, I felt GOOD during an actual race!

During my leg, I managed to pull our kill tally 4 points ahead of Jeff. We were ahead at the half! The second half of the relay was harder than the first because we had all already run once. While I waited at a grassy exchange area, I started sneezing. My head started hurting. Drat my grass allergy! My teammate rescued me with an allergy pill and by the time it was my turn to run again, my brief head-throb-nose-sniffle was under control again, although I was feeling sluggish from our early wakeup. We did not see Jeff sprinting in to hand off the team slap bracelet to me until he shouted my name a few times. I jumped and scrambled to take off my jacket, getting tangled up in my visor in the process. Finally I dashed over to Jeff, slapped on the bracelet, and started running. I was tired. So sleepy. Legs heavy. The final leg of the relay was a very hilly 7.3 miles. The sun was shining and it was warm.

“Uh-oh,” I thought to myself. “This might be a a struggle.”

I eased into the run. It began on a sizable hill, so I let my stiff legs warm up slowly. About a mile and a half into the run, I started to feel some spunk return to my legs. I picked up the pace. I zoomed down a steep hill and powered up the next hill. I was in the zone again! I passed poor exhausted-looking runners over and over and over.

The scenery was breathtaking with the rolling coastal hills lined in tall pine trees with large bright green ferns carpeting the forest floor. Every now and then, a gap in the trees revealed a quick glimpse of the ocean! About 2.5 miles into my run, mist started rolling in from the ocean on a fresh briny breeze. It provided a welcome cover from the warm afternoon sun. I could taste the salty ocean on my lips. I kept running. My team stopped and gave me water, jogging next to me to take the bottle back. Then I was on my own for the last 4 miles to the finish. I kept passing people. The hills got steeper the closer to the finish I ran. Finally I inched my way up a nice 8% grade and into the tiny tourist town of Seabrook, WA. I was at 21 kills for the final leg!

A zig here and a zag there, one more steep hill, and I was on the homestretch. Our team name–Snail Trail–was announced over loudspeakers and my footsore teammates hobble-jogged over to join me in crossing the finish line. I slowed down to accommodate the various sore muscles everyone was nursing (and the flip flops and jeans some were wearing), and we crossed the line more or less together. It wasn’t your average guts and glory sprint-to-the finish, but it worked for us.

Our final kill-tally at the end of the day was Jeff: 75, the rest of us: 91. Oh yeah.

The official race results show that our team, the Snail Trail, wasn’t very sluggish at all. We finished 60th overall out of 270 teams, and 16th out of the 69 teams in our division. As a team, we ran 77 miles in 11 hours 33 minutes and 59 seconds, averaging a 9:05 mile pace! Not too shabby.

After we took a team picture, we glanced at the crowded village square crawling with people and vendors with a live singer screeching over an amped up sound system. Then we turned around and left. These are my kind of people! We went to the peaceful Pacific beach instead of the post race beer garden/loud music/shop-a-thon. Ahhh, the beach was wide open, breezy, and sparkling. Jeff stripped to his running shorts and did the sore muscle mince-and-wince-jog over to the water to take a dip. The rest of us were too cold in the chilly wind for wading, and satisfied ourselves with a few pictures and some deep breaths of fresh salty air. Then it was back into the van for 45 minutes or so until we came across a fish and chips restaurant in Hoquiam, WA (Breakwater Seafood and Chowder House). The light and crispy fried halibut went down nicely after a day of light snack eating on the go.

Back on the road, we arrived at our base (the lakehouse) around 7:30pm, 16.5 hours after we left it that morning. Whew! Everyone quickly dispersed into their separate vehicles and began the 3.5 hour drive back home to the Yakima Valley. My dear mother had packed the kids’ things all up for us, so they were ready to go. I jumped in the shower for 3 minutes, changed into clean clothes, and then we drove home. It was a long long drive. I tried to sleep for the first half so I could have a better chance of staying awake when it was my turn to drive, but if church sleep is the best sleep, car sleep is the worst! When we hit Ellensburg, we got gas and switched drivers. The kids were all slumped in the back seat mostly asleep. Jeff immediately went to sleep. I was alone and exhausted and had an hour and 15 minutes between me and my bed. I stayed awake on prayers, music, and a cookie. We arrived home just before midnight. Whew!

It was an exhausting day, but I completely enjoyed the experience. It was refreshing to take a day and do something a little crazy with friends. In our current stage of life (with young kids in the mix) it is rare to have an entire Saturday to spend hanging out with our friends. It is even more rare to spend an entire Saturday running with friends! I loved all of the in between wait time when we lounged and talked. I liked cheering each teammate while they ran. I enjoyed our friendly “kill” competition. The scenery through western Washington was top notch. The day was not exactly a relaxing type of day, but it was an exciting way to spend time with friends who we don’t get to see very often.

Pizza dinner in the car on Friday night on Jeff’s birthday.

Photo captions: 

• 4:44am, just before the start of the first relay leg.
• The first handoff: Ashleigh to Carina.
• Handoff: Carina to Jeremy. It was fun having two married couples on our team. Carina handed off to her husband Jeremy, and Jeff handed off to me.
• Ashleigh, Leslie, and me waiting…
• The average roadside team scene: clapping, water-passing, scenery.
• Handoff: Leslie to Jeff–look at that speedy finish!
• Spousal support out on the course
• Ashleigh tweaked her knee and was very happy/relieved when she finished her second leg and was DONE running for the day.
• Jeff, taking off on his last leg.
• Jeff requested water dumped on him when he passed. I had way too much fun throwing water at his head.
• Happy Shaina.
• THE FINISH LINE!
• One more team selfie at the beach.
• Jeff, wincing and mincing over to the ocean
• Ashleigh and me. We were cold in that stiff Pacific breeze!
• Jeff cracking a kelp whip