I'm coming up on two years without lacrosse. I've been thinking a lot about the way I've been taking care, or it would be probably be better to say NOT taking care, of my body since then. I miss excerising on a regular basis. It is just tough to find the motivation to get out and really push yourself. But I do miss finishing a workout feeling like you are absolutely exhausted and can't move another step and yet so good.
Unfortunately, I developed asthma in high school, and since then, I never was a runner (running just isn't quite the same when you are coughing up blood...). I looked it as a necessary evil. I never understood those track people. But lately, I've been missing pushing myself and having a goal to work towards. This crazy thought kept popping up in my head, and now, I think that I want to run a half-marathon this summer. I would shoot for an actual marathon, but that is probably a bit much for me. I wasn't going to put it on the blog because then I would be more acountable for this pyscho goal of mine, but then I decided that is exactly why I should put it on the blog.
So now you all know, I am going to be running a half marathon here in a few months. I know there is one in June. Does anyone have any experience with this and know if that is too short a time period?
The lucky thing for me is, my sisters are starting "A Little Healthy Competition" to see who can accomplish all of their health and fitness goals. It will be nice to have that extra boost of motivation.
Wish me luck, I'm definitely going to need it!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Big News
The list of finalists for the "Best of" competition with UW of America was released yesterday. On the list for Best Storytelling/Video was good ol' UW of Utah County. Wahoo! They announce the winners in May at the big conference they've already asked permission to show the video at.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
"Number One Hundred Fifty-Nine..."
I went to the SS Office to officially get my name changed last week. I had heard from a coworker that it was a rather long process, so I did my homework before going and knew what I needed to bring and what I would need to fill out once I was there.
The day I decided to go, I purposely took a late lunch in hopes of beating the majority of the crowd. I was really surprised when I walked in and saw every seat in the waiting room full and then some. As you walk in the door, they have a machine and a sign that says, "If you have an appointment, check in here." I was going to check in, but since I didn't have an appointment, figured I wasn't supposed to. I was a little bit confused though because there wasn't a line anywhere. A nice old man with a cane finally hobbled over and told me I had to check in at the machine to get a number, even if I didn't have an appointment. I went and grabbed number 99 from the machine and found a corner to wait in.
After about 10 minutes, they called the next person over, "Number 87!" I knew then that my dream of getting in and out was not about to happen. Luck was on my side though, when apparently number 92, 93, 94 and 95 decided not to wait it out and left before they were called, drastically cutting down wait time for everyone after them.
After 50 minutes (I get 60 for lunch), just when I was about to give up myself, I heard, "Number 99!" I excitedly gathered up my stuff and proudly presented my already filled out form. The worker asked for my marriage license, so I pulled out the rolled out document I had grabbed as I ran out the door that morning. As I started to unroll it, my heart sank. Instead of being the government issued document that I thought it was, I slowly started to see more and more of "The Family, A Proclamation to the World." I told the worker that I had brought the wrong thing, and she told me maybe it was ok and to let her see it, but I assured her it wasn't what she was looking for. After one look at my dejected face, the worker told me it was ok and pulled out a slip saying as long as I returned that day, I could be the next person helped. That is a great deal, except I had to be back at work in 5 minutes, and the SS office closed at 4. I explained that to her, and asked if the ticket was transferable to the next day. She told me it wasn't, but I must have looked pretty pathetic standing there with my Proclamation because she told me she wasn't supposed to do it, but she changed the today to the following day. Boy, did she become my new best friend that day!
During my wait, I had been texting Matt with updates. When I got back into the car, I called him and explained what had happened. I felt like such a dork, I couldn't believe I had grabbed the wrong thing! He expressed his sympathy but started asking where our real license was. I told him it must be at the apartment, but he was worried I had lost it because, get this, the temple had rolled it up inside of a copy of the Proclamation. I slowly unrolled the thing just a little more than I had, and sure enough, there it was!
So imagine how dumb I felt because I brought the wrong thing, but times that by about 20 to get how I felt after realizing I had it with me the whole time!
The day I decided to go, I purposely took a late lunch in hopes of beating the majority of the crowd. I was really surprised when I walked in and saw every seat in the waiting room full and then some. As you walk in the door, they have a machine and a sign that says, "If you have an appointment, check in here." I was going to check in, but since I didn't have an appointment, figured I wasn't supposed to. I was a little bit confused though because there wasn't a line anywhere. A nice old man with a cane finally hobbled over and told me I had to check in at the machine to get a number, even if I didn't have an appointment. I went and grabbed number 99 from the machine and found a corner to wait in.
After about 10 minutes, they called the next person over, "Number 87!" I knew then that my dream of getting in and out was not about to happen. Luck was on my side though, when apparently number 92, 93, 94 and 95 decided not to wait it out and left before they were called, drastically cutting down wait time for everyone after them.
After 50 minutes (I get 60 for lunch), just when I was about to give up myself, I heard, "Number 99!" I excitedly gathered up my stuff and proudly presented my already filled out form. The worker asked for my marriage license, so I pulled out the rolled out document I had grabbed as I ran out the door that morning. As I started to unroll it, my heart sank. Instead of being the government issued document that I thought it was, I slowly started to see more and more of "The Family, A Proclamation to the World." I told the worker that I had brought the wrong thing, and she told me maybe it was ok and to let her see it, but I assured her it wasn't what she was looking for. After one look at my dejected face, the worker told me it was ok and pulled out a slip saying as long as I returned that day, I could be the next person helped. That is a great deal, except I had to be back at work in 5 minutes, and the SS office closed at 4. I explained that to her, and asked if the ticket was transferable to the next day. She told me it wasn't, but I must have looked pretty pathetic standing there with my Proclamation because she told me she wasn't supposed to do it, but she changed the today to the following day. Boy, did she become my new best friend that day!
During my wait, I had been texting Matt with updates. When I got back into the car, I called him and explained what had happened. I felt like such a dork, I couldn't believe I had grabbed the wrong thing! He expressed his sympathy but started asking where our real license was. I told him it must be at the apartment, but he was worried I had lost it because, get this, the temple had rolled it up inside of a copy of the Proclamation. I slowly unrolled the thing just a little more than I had, and sure enough, there it was!
So imagine how dumb I felt because I brought the wrong thing, but times that by about 20 to get how I felt after realizing I had it with me the whole time!
Friday, March 6, 2009
You Can Never Have Enough Kitchen Towels
I did "Food on Tires" yesterday. Between the week of Christmas and New Year, I was the only person around in the office who was authorized to do it (you have to have a background check and be trained), so I ended up doing it every day. During this time, one of the ladies (the one who never wears pants, bless her heart) decided she thought I was pretty neat. She is very lonely and has been known to keep volunteers chatting with her for lengthy amounts of time. Well, she found out that I was engaged and excitedly declared, "Well, I'm going to get you kitchen towels! No one can ever have enough kitchen towels!" And then she found out we were getting married over Valentine's Day weekend, which delighted her even more because she could "find all sorts of great towels with hearts on them!"
I quickly assured her she didn't need to get me anything (none of these people have any money) but thanked her for her generosity. Despite my protests of it being enough that she was willing, she insisted on getting me some kitchen towels with hearts on them.
Ever since then, she loves when I am the one who volunteers. She is really deaf and can never hear my name right, but she faithfully greets me with a "Brenda, right? You're the one who is getting married! On February 12, did I remember right?" Then she would proceed to inspect my ring and get the latest on all of the planning (all with my shouting and repeating multiple times, she really should put her hearing aids in more often). The shortest amount of time I've spent with her since then is 25 minutes, which would be ok, except my whole lunch hour is only between 30-60 minutes, and there are 11 other people who need food delivered.
Well, yesterday she told me to go and search through the bags on her couch because she was finally able to make it to the store (this is an extremely nice thing for her to do, she is so arthritic that she is almost completely crippled). She was sad that she didn't make it before all of the heart towels were gone, but she got me some nice blue ones. She is so sweet and kept saying how she really just wanted to get me some colorful, cute ones, but no one had any color except for white. She wrote down matt's name and told me she would have a card for us next time I came.
It was such a "small" gesture, but for her, it was huge. I am so appreciative of her act of kindness. I know it was a hardship for her. I hope that I can be as kind as her, even my old and decrepit age.
I quickly assured her she didn't need to get me anything (none of these people have any money) but thanked her for her generosity. Despite my protests of it being enough that she was willing, she insisted on getting me some kitchen towels with hearts on them.
Ever since then, she loves when I am the one who volunteers. She is really deaf and can never hear my name right, but she faithfully greets me with a "Brenda, right? You're the one who is getting married! On February 12, did I remember right?" Then she would proceed to inspect my ring and get the latest on all of the planning (all with my shouting and repeating multiple times, she really should put her hearing aids in more often). The shortest amount of time I've spent with her since then is 25 minutes, which would be ok, except my whole lunch hour is only between 30-60 minutes, and there are 11 other people who need food delivered.
Well, yesterday she told me to go and search through the bags on her couch because she was finally able to make it to the store (this is an extremely nice thing for her to do, she is so arthritic that she is almost completely crippled). She was sad that she didn't make it before all of the heart towels were gone, but she got me some nice blue ones. She is so sweet and kept saying how she really just wanted to get me some colorful, cute ones, but no one had any color except for white. She wrote down matt's name and told me she would have a card for us next time I came.
It was such a "small" gesture, but for her, it was huge. I am so appreciative of her act of kindness. I know it was a hardship for her. I hope that I can be as kind as her, even my old and decrepit age.
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