There is a flag that's flown

Our office is not good at keeping up with our flag.

You see, like most other offices, we have a flag outside. And since there are no longer regulations regarding nighttime illumination, and there are such things as all-weather flags, the flag goes up on the pole & stays there until it is tatty. Such is the way of office flags, to judge by many of the ones I saw today.

When former President Ford died a couple of years ago, I got to the office one day and mentioned to our office manager that ours was the only flag in town not at half-mast, and that we should probably fix it. She ignored me. (In case anyone was wondering how much pull I have at my office, there is your answer.) Not until three or four people stopped by to complain that we had the only flag in town not at half-mast did the powers that be decide to do something about it.

Yesterday, someone stopped by to complain that we didn't have our flag at half mast. We corrected it right away, so I suppose we've learned something in the past couple of years. (I certainly have; I didn't waste breath telling anyone we needed to fix it.)

Our poor flag is so unfortunate; nothing ever happens to it unless someone stops to complain. It could be 13 strips of fabric loosely held together by a single thread, and we would probably never realise it if not for the flag police. (I call them that because, seriously, who stops at an office to go in & complain about the state of the flag? There must be an official position for that.)

And that gets me wondering about flags in general. I mean, what we have in this country is, as I've said, 13 strips of fabric sewn together. That makes 12 seams, or 12 weakest points for a flag to fray at. I'm sure that all-weather flags are made with the best thread available, but still, combine that many weak spots with the wind out here and you have a recipe for a very tattered flag.

Which is what happens. Most of the flags in this town have tattered edges. I guess that's a sign they've been doing their job. You won't catch me complaining.

Friday Countdown

Just because I can... and because Mark Remy is doing it. Such a bad example!

My next 15K: 8 days
Chad's half marathon: 8 days
Turkey Trot: 20 days
Christmas Tea: 24 days
Christmas: 49 days
My Anniversary: 56 days
Vancouver Olympics: 97 days
Austin Marathon: 99 days

And before you ask... no, I will not include your birthday in my countdown.

The Bicycle Came Back!

My bicycle had to go in for its three-month checkup.

Actually, I probably would have forgotten that the cost of buying a new bike from the good people at DFC included free adjustments for 90 days, but I woke up yesterday morning to a back tire that was extremely flattened. I think this is due to a mysterious object I ran over on Tuesday (swerved & missed it with the front tire; ran over it with the back one. Oops).

So, one new tire & one new screw for the over-the-tire rack later, and I'm back in business. And the nice young man also tightened up things that had come loose (I guess-- that's what he was supposed to do, anyway). So, my still-like-new bike is all ready to go tomorrow.

Also in the news today... I had a really good run this evening. The really good runs are the ones that keep me going back out again every day, even on the days that aren't really good.

And, since I know you are wondering: 100 days until I LOVE Austin!

NBC is doing it!!

Advertising for the Olympics, that is. I take that as justification for me to do it, too. :)

So, I was sitting in my college speech class about four and a half years ago. It was our first speech, and "introduce yourself" type thing, and the topics revolved around interesting things that happened on our birth day/month/year. Everything was rolling along smoothly and I already had earned my own grade, and was enjoying my classmates' speeches.

Then, this innocent young 20-year-old man got up, to tell us all about being born in 1984. In the course of his speech, he said (and I am not kidding), "1984 was the only year that the Winter and Summer games were held in the same year."

Cue me, falling out of my chair. Okay, not really, but I did a serious slump. Never mind that I can remember the 1984 Olympics (thank you, Mary Lou!), but these people couldn't even remember both games being held in the same year! It didn't change that long ago! 1994, to be exact, was the first year of separation!

Sigh. So at the end of class, in great Susan's-foot-in-mouth style, I asked, "So, does everyone over 25 feel really old now?" And in unison, the other six or so non-traditional students all answered, "Yes."

At least I wasn't alone. So my cautionary tale is this: When giving a speech, do some research first.

100 Days

The Vancouver Olympics are 100 days away. And I'd like to add my own "Huzzah!" to the myriads of cheers going up.

Yeah, I love the Olympics. Summer, winter, near, far, live, prerecorded... doesn't matter. I'll watch it all. The night of the opening ceremonies, I'll be... in Austin. Possibly watching, depending upon what the people we're staying with are doing. It's totally in their hands whether or not I watch the opening.

But the next day, I'll be watching. All day, while sitting in my hotel room with my feet up. You see, the Olympics open the weekend of the Austin marathon. Which, by the way, is 102 days away.

I don't keep up with most winter sports in non-Olympic years, mostly because it makes me cold just to watch. But I am sad we won't see Joey Cheek back again in the speed skating, because he so inspired me last time around by his committment to champion a cause (Right to Play). And something he said in an interview has stuck with me throughout my running journey to date:

Reporter: What's the hardest thing about being an Olympian?

Joey Cheek: Training until you throw up. Every day.

Mr. Cheek is now also working for Team Darfur, continuing to use what influence he has for the good of others. If that isn't enough to inspire me, then nothing else could possibly be, either.

I don't train nearly that hard. But the thought that others do makes me push myself when I'd rather lay down on the pavement and take a nap. Day 3 of the Vancouver Olympics will find me lining up at my own start line, putting my own training to the test, seeing if my own hopes will be fulfilled. I can't wait. And I hope I can do some good along the way.

(I don't know what is wrong with Blogger today. Please ignore the rather random formatting.)

Happy Days are Here Again

So, I've had a bit of a problem with Lubbock drivers lately.

You see, I do a lot of running, cycling, and walking. Most of this city does a lot of driving. There's a bit of a conflict of cultures in that. And in the past couple of weeks, I've witnessed a lot of stupid driving that could (and in at least two cases, nearly did) jeopardise my life.

So, I produced a series of "pep talks" on Facebook to encourage the Lubbock drivers to stay in their lanes, observe traffic laws, and most importantly, actually see the pedestrians & cyclists out there. For reasons passing understanding, it is widely accepted that drivers do not see anything smaller than a car. Sigh.

Then, one day last week, I was on the far right of 34th street and needed to get to the left-turn lane. I looked around, saw one truck waaaaay back, stuck my arm out, and crossed over to the middle, where I had to come to a stop. The driver of the truck pulled up next to me, and since we had a red light, he rolled down his window for a brief friendly chat.

Since that day, I haven't been able to bring myself to complain about the Lubbock drivers-- all because of one act of kindness. To paraphrase Maria Trapp (yes, that Maria Trapp) in her highly enjoyable book The Sound of Music, "Why do we use this magic wand so little? It would turn this world into a paradise."

I don't know the abbreviation

And I'm not even going to try it. But November is basically a do-everything-you-ever-thought-about month, including blogging every day. I managed it last year (pre-Facebook, mind you); can I do it again?

So, first order of business: My first full marathon is 15 weeks away. I'm running 26.2 miles on Valentine's Day. How romantic is that? I mean, Chad is running it, too, but it's not like we'll be running together. I'll probably wait for him at the finish line, but that's the extent of the romance. Perhaps we'll take along some post-race chardonnay. Ha! I thought about taking advantage of the post-race massage booth, but apparently it's bad for your muscles to get a massage immediately after.

So, I'm left with... a piece of chocolate cake at our post-race lunch? That may be the best I can do. Hmmm.

Second order of business: The Ladies' Christmas Tea is 29 days away (four weeks tomorrow!). I'm running it, and getting by with some help from my friends, for the third hit year.

Expect to hear a lot about those two things this month. And any other really bizarre thing that comes to mind.

The Doctor is In

I've watched a lot of Doctor Who this week. It's addled my brain.

And straight after finishing an episode of Doctor Who, I get on the internet to read another story about another suicide bombing in Iraq. Talk about reality banging down around me with some serious force.

I've reflected before that I don't know why God's people aren't praying for peace. We used to ("we" in the collective sense; I wasn't actually there). I don't know what happened. I hang around with people who love the Lord all the time, and I can't remember the last time I heard a prayer for peace.

I've heard all the arguments that there will never be peace in the Middle East. I've heard that the US won't care until we experience war firsthand (collectively, again; that's not a slur on our armed forces). I've heard that it's human nature to be at war. I've heard (and agree!) that we should support our troops whether or not we support the war. I've heard blah, blah, blah.

And I know it's the overabundance of this fantasy world that I've indulged in this week that makes me so emotional over a suicide bomber. Goodness knows I've read enough similar news reports in my lifetime. But if that's what it takes to get me to pay attention to something outside my realm every now and then, so be it.

I'm praying for peace. Everywhere. I hope you'll join me.

What? What??

Wow, I've gone over a month without blogging. Sheesh.

I have been taking a Facebook break this week, and I have to say, it's been great. Turns out, there are other things in life besides Facebook.

Fear not, any readers left out there; November is blog every day month. It has a cooler name than that, actually; and as far as I know, it's also write a novel every day & pray to God every day month. And, I imagine, there are a few other things thrown in for good measure.

Because, when it comes down to it, what can you do in November anyway, really? It's all dark & cold out there.

Best. 10K. Ever.

I've been chasing a new 10K PR for six months. Last week, I had a fantastic 6-mile tempo run, so I had confidence that I could see that new PR yesterday.

So, I tried a couple of new things: 1. I wore a watch. 2. I had a plan.

Who knew that would work? Yeah, I know, every other runner on the planet.

Here's something that didn't change today: I went out too fast. Yep, my plan for mile 1 was to run it in 10:10. I looked at my watch at the 1-mile mark, saw 9:46, and said, "Oops."

Too late for fussing now; I had 5.2 miles to go. So, I slowed it down a bit, and hit the 2-mile mark in 20:09. I thought, "Perfect! But now I have to find a pace between those two."

I guess I found it; I don't remember my splits from there on out, but I turned around at 31:40ish, which meant I would have to run a negative split by a minute or two, as planned. So I was pretty much on track.

I saw Chad on the way back; he was a few minutes behind me and looking good!

I used mile 5 as a "recovery" mile-- went a bit slower than my overall planned pace so that I would be ready to lay it all out for mile 6. And that bit of the plan worked perfectly. I caught up to a couple of people who I had been trailing for the entire race, and hit the 6-mile point at just over one hour. Perfect!

It took less than two minutes to get from there to the finish, and my final time was 1:02:15-- a new PR by 42 seconds. Holy cow. (My "official" time is 1:02:20-- but they had some clock issues, so I think I may have been cheated out of a couple of seconds & it should have been more like 1:02:17.)

I don't think I can cut 42 seconds off every time, but I would be delighted to get the last 15 seconds off to get down to 1:02:00. From there, I can work on my ultimate goal to be under an hour. In the meantime, I'm going to train extra-hard to get in a sub-30-minute 5K before the end of the year.

You never know until you try!

I ran 14 miles last Saturday.

Now for the marathoners & ultras out there-- please hold your sneers. Others-- please hold your ooohs or "crazy!"s. Because truth be told, the run was neither too easy nor too hard.

I knew for the whole week leading up to Saturday what my distance would be. (I knew longer than that, actually, but I really try not to think more than a week ahead.) So, I was kind of nervous; after all, the longest I've ever run is 13.1 miles, and both times I've done that I've been rendered non-mobile for a week. Also, I knew it would take me about 3 hours (yes, I run slowly), and my fuel belt doesn't hold enough water to last that long.

So, I did take it slow. I started adding walk breaks a few weeks ago when my long runs went over 10 miles again, which helps with recovery & makes the distance less overwhelming. I chose a route that took me past stores, so I could get a refill when the time came. And Chad, who was running 6 miles on Saturday, met up with me when I had three miles to go.

I did it! Fourteen miles in three hours. This week is a recovery week, leading up to my 10K on Saturday. And the following Saturday, I do 14 again, on my way to longer (and scarier!) distances. But now, I know I can do it.

Back Again

So, the train from Sacramento to San Jose was fun. Getting to the airport from the train station was also fun. (Just by way of an aside, I would love to live in a place with a light rail service. That probably won't happen as long as I live in Lubbock.)

The San Jose airport is almost as small as the Lubbock airport, and a lot more crowded. But they are expanding, and it's a good thing! We were warned by various internet sources to expect delays, but we got in with no problems, in part thanks to the efforts of a Continental agent who already looked pretty harried at 11 AM.

I love airports, but the problem with an airport is that after a couple of hours, they will shove you into a tin can with wings. A cramped tin can. And this one had no TVs, no movie, and no way at all for me to not be bored out of my mind. Some day, we will have children who will ask "Are we there yet" for an entire 17-hour drive to Indiana, and I really will have no right to be upset with them. But, flying is faster than driving any day, so I can't complain too much.

And our pal Kate was waiting in Lubbock to bring us home. Yay! Home!

Uphill & back down

We went up to Pollock Pines to see Grandpa's siblings & have lunch. It's a really nice drive, as long as I can manage to stave off motion sickness. Luck was with me this day, and we had a good drive, a good visit and a fantastic lunch, because Grandpa's family can cook with the best of them.

We got in the car to go home and the excitement began-- the car wasn't working. I've never heard what the problem was, but we couldn't accelerate. Rather than call AAA and wait three days (which is what Aunt Ann said was bound to happen), we decided to take it home the back way. Fortunately, the road from Pollock Pines to Placerville is all downhill. Unfortunately, the downhill stopped once we got to Placerville. So, after getting stuck (in other words, the car died) in traffic & getting some assistance from a nice young man who was just hanging out, the car came to a stop at Round Table Pizza. Chad stayed with the car & dealt with the tow truck, while the rest of us got Grandpa home.

So, that was more of an adventure than we wanted. Oops.

In a Casino

Our trip to California included my first visit to a casino. Now, I know for a lot of people (including Chad's grandpa), this is a source of great entertainment. I didn't see it, though; I really can think of more fun things to do with my money.

To a large extent, the casino was just as I've always pictured them to be (ably helped by TV and movies, of course): Lots of flashing lights, lots of noise, cigarette smoke, and young women wearing as little shiny material as possible serving drinks. However, unlike the movies, there were not uber-beautiful under-25 people sitting at every machine. This was the middle-of-the-day crowd, after all, which apparently means "retired."

A highlight of the casino was the restaurant. We got the buffet, instead of the crazy-priced "gourmet" restaurant, and I gotta say, that was the best buffet food I've ever had in my life.

And after we got done, Chad found a dollar in his wallet to stick in a machine. Oooh, life in the fast lane.

Yes! I went on vacation!

Okay, I have this habit of promising gripping, exciting, detailed posts.

That almost never happens.

But let me tell you a bit about our trip to California, before memory fades completely...

My cousins' children are growing up. Waaaay too fast! The last time we saw them, Abby was six, Anny was one, and Chris & Addy were non-existent. Now, Abby is eleven, Anny is six, Chris is three & Addy is two! How did that happen?

What was really funny was that on our last trip, six-year-old Abby could hardly be peeled from my side. On this trip, six-year-old Anny could hardly be peeled from my side. She even got permission to sit with us during church, which was so sweet! It is hard to be admired by my small cousins, when I know that 1. I'm just not that great of a cousin, and 2. I'm not that great of a person, either. I shudder at the thought of how much responsibility all adults have when they have small eyes watching, and especially parents. Yikes! Time to start praying.

Chad's grandpa was very happy to see him, and we were pretty happy to see him, too. It's been too long since our last trip. Grandpa has terminal cancer, but that has not diminished his enjoyment of his family and friends. He gets tired, and I'm sure he gets discouraged, but he had on his "game face" while we were there and it was delightful to see him.

More to come...

Running for someone

I love watching sporting events on TV. I like them for the obvious reasons that everyone else does: they are entertaining, fun, a chance to see the best in the world turning sport into art, etc.

But, being a runner, I also love it for the inspiration it provides. Watching Roger Federer or Serena Williams tear up the tennis court makes me want to push myself that bit harder on my next run. I'll never be a Kara Goucher, I'll never make it to a national championships (not even when I'm old enough for the Senior Olympics!), and I will never so much as win a local race. But that doesn't mean I can't take the inspiration provided by the best of the best, and use that inspiration to be the best runner that I can be.

And I had another source of inspiration as I was running this morning. I'm sure everyone knows that "Labor Day" is synonymous with "MDA Telethon". There is a young man at church called Ben who has been on the local MDA broadcast every year since he can remember, I would imagine. He was diagnosed when he was three; he is now a senior in high school. Most MD patients his age are in wheelchairs, and I can only hope that most MD patients his age have so many devoted prayer warriors as he does.

I didn't even know Ben yet when I first saw him on TV; I just saw the announcement in the church bulletin that he would be on it. So, I tuned in. I had no idea, that Labor Day in 2002, that I was looking at a family who in a matter of months would become some of my favourite people on the planet. I didn't know I was looking at a remarkable young man who would steal my heart and make his way permanently onto my prayer list. I didn't know that I would one day hear his entire story from his parents and require nearly an entire box of tissues (and I still do, every time I hear it). I just saw a young family, with three energetic little boys, who were facing an uphill battle and were winning. They are still winning.

On Saturday, I'll run another 10K, something Ben will never do. This morning as I ran, getting ready for Saturday, I thought of all the people who have rallied around Ben and his family. I thought of all the prayers sent heavenward on his behalf in the past 17 years, and added my own prayer to them this morning. I thought of how he'll be on TV later, and the city of Lubbock that has watched him grow up will see him one more time. I thought that come Saturday, when I start to get tired, I'll think of Ben and see if that doesn't push me to pick up the pace for one more mile.

Because it is amazing what one can do, when doing it for something (or someone!) beyond one's self.

Another five miles

Yes, my faithful reader, I am going to bore you with another race recap before getting on to my promised vacation posts.

Today's race is called Hot Dam, and for good reason. Seriously, we could just call it Dam Hot, but then we run a strong risk of offending half the local population. Alas. Anyway, this is the hottest race of the year (why we can't start at 7 AM, instead of 8, I shall never know), and the course takes us by the dam in Canyon Lake. Twice. Unless you are a short-distance person and only run the 2-mile course, in which case you never see the dam and might well think that the name is actually a commentary on the weather.

Anyway! We had a bit of a departure at the beginning; the man handed me my bib number and said, "Write an emergency contact number on the back of this for us, please." I said, "Okay," and wandered away thinking, 'Write it with what? Should I stick my finger and write in blood? My emergency contact doesn't have the car, it's here with me! What kind of race are we running out here today, anyway?' and so on. (BTW, I did stick my finger with a pin while putting on my number. Just goes to show that one shouldn't tempt fate, not even in one's own private thoughts. The Lord may be in need of amusement.)

I found a friend who is also on the board and asked her about this new policy, and she reminded me that a runner went down at last month's race, requiring an overnight stay at the hospital. Oh, yeah. Suddenly, all has become clear. So, I wrote Chad's number on the back, knowing that it would do no good whatsoever unless he had to say, "Yes, take her to the hospital," if I were unconscious. And I sincerely hoped that if I did go down, someone would announce the news to our friends from church who are also in the running club, and that they would be so kind as to get my car and drive it home.

The only thing of note that happened during this race was one of the aid stations running out of water. I don't really drink much water while racing; I generally use it for dumping over my head. However, there are not a lot of circumstances in which I would dump a cup of Gatorade on my head. If I were that hot, I'd just call it a day. Especially since the Gatorade was lukewarm. Ick.

So, I finished. No PR today, but better than I expected, given the temperature and the hills. And it was a fun race, in which no one required medical attention. Always a good sign.

Bright and shiny

It took five hours of my life and hunk of cash, but this baby now belongs to me:




Oh, yeah, this is a fun bike to ride!

Cycle's End

Yeah, so blogging every day in July was a pipe dream. Especially considering I was on holiday with spotty internet. I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps August will be better.

I will regale you with tales from California for the next few days, but let's just start with current events, shall we? This morning, I got my bike out to ride to work. I had a big silly grin on my face (as ever, when I miss out on anything for a few days) at the start because I was having so much fun.

There were a couple of things missing: 1. My stopwatch died while we were in California, so I was timer-free this morning, and 2. The big dog that normally acts like he'd like to have me for breakfast was nowhere to be seen. Odd.

So I'm rolling along, all fine and dandy, and was just about to cross the last major street between me and my destination, and I start to slow down for a red light, and I feel a snap. I squeezed the brake lever a couple of more times before I realise that I've begun to speed up again. Oh, no-- my brake cable broke.

I got safely to work, and safely back home again, but relying soley on my front brakes is risky business. Firstly, they are not too reliable themselves, and secondly, I have a hard time judging how slow I need to be moving before hitting said brakes. But, I got there in the end.

And tomorrow, I get to go be fitted for a brand-new bike. So, it's not all bad.

Blue & Green Go Well Together

There is really nothing better than green trees against a blue sky. Seriously. Especially when viewed through sunglasses, which make the colours more intense.

I thought I was dangerously close to the mad geese again today, but they were either 1) too hot to be bothered or 2) still full from their last victim. Either way, they ignored me.

And, the playa lake in the park is getting low again. I think it's time for some rain!

Almost midnight

I'm up late, chatting on Facebook, because I am just plain silly.

So I went to a girls' night tonight, which is quite a departure for me. But, from time to time I try to be social and friendly and stuff. We watched Bride Wars, which was quite funny. Nice ending, too.

This is probably the result of having caffeine today-- I should have known better! My coworkers all like me better when decaffeinated, anyway. But, I had a lot of work to do today, so I kept the looney to a minumum.

Bouncy Slides

So, we had a picnic & concert.

Picnic was good! Our grill masters at South Plains know what they are doing when it comes to making burgers. I don't eat beef unless it is cooked by someone else (I just do not like cooking it), so church picnics are about the only time I have burgers. We had some issues with the mayonnaise (both me & the nice young man ahead of me picked up bottles that were still sealed, leading to several minutes of struggling to get the seal off, then the woman behind me dripped water all over my burger bun trying to get herself some mayo), and I opened three coolers before I found the water, and most of the shade was already taken by the time we got there. However, minor inconveniences aside, it was good food and we had some nice fellowship with our friends.

After the first band and before the second, I went to explore the bouncy castles we had set up, to see if I was allowed to try them. There was no weight or age limit posted, so I went ahead up a rather tall slide. I also took a little friend with me-- a little girl, who was probably around two, was there with her grandmother who was not willing to try the bouncy slide. So, the two of us went up & then down again.

And that was when the fun started. The slide had been having some toppling issues, and one of the kids enlightened me that it was because several kids had climbed up to the very top at once and were trying to bring it down. Plus, those couple of minutes I was there was enough for me to discover there was a lot of shoving and no waiting in line for this slide. So, concerned as I was for the children's safety, I took over as the responsible adult, got them into line, made them take turns and only go up one at a time, and thus ensured that I would spend the rest of the evening at the foot of this slide.

Another of the bouncy creations was also a slide, only smaller and wider, and one of the kids had gotten the bright idea to dump bottled water on it. Which was the cue for all the kids to dump on bottled water. I thought it was a waste, but as the kids had to keep returning to the picnic area for more bottles, I felt sure that sooner or later a parent would intervene. It turned out to be later rather than sooner, as it happened.

Apparently the concert was not wonderful, so I didn't miss out on much. The kids were pretty fun, anyway, and I kept having to rescue the very small ones when the older ones got too rowdy. I'm always a bit leery of picking up kids who don't know me, but tonight I made a lot of exceptions to my own rule. Plus, I got to meet a mum when her little girl said "Mama!" a few times until I decided that I really had better find her mum and return her.

So, my verdict? We should have picnics more often, and skip the concerts.

Oops. Missed a day.

Oh, well, can't have everything.

So, our church started last year having a massive, one-weekend, community service day. They hoped for 50 people to come join in last year, and over 300 turned up. We all had a great day.

This weekend, we were at it again. Chad went yesterday to one of the local children's homes to help trim hedges, get tree branches off power lines, and that sort of thing. Today, we were out there again to finish up.

We did this last year, too, and I'm not sure it's been done at all in the interim. The difference is that this year we had temps in excess of 100 degrees. But, we got it done. I suppose that the ministers couldn't predict back in January which weekend during the summer would be the hottest-- but they may have chosen the correct one! Actually, our group was quite lucky-- we at least had shade. Some people were painting, putting up fences, and other hard labour without the benefit of trees and houses to hide behind. I haven't talked to any of them yet, though, so I don't know how it went.

Unfortunately, doing grounds keeping stuff at the Children's Home meant we didn't really get to interact with the kids, which is too bad. I chatted with a couple of boys for a few minutes about their toy guns, and that's pretty much it. I saw kids outside playing and riding their bikes, but everyone was back inside by the time we were leaving-- it was lunchtime, after all, and pretty hot.

I love seeing the kids at the Home ride their bikes. A lot of them never had a bike in their life before coming to the Home. A staple of my-- and, if all one hears is true, most of my friends'-- childhood was riding my bike, and yet these kids have missed out on that. The kids who are placed at the Children's Home are there through no fault of their own, and have had a raw deal in a lot of ways. But an upside of them being in the Home is that they get this little bit of their childhood back-- someone else is looking after them, taking care of keeping them housed & fed, and they can ride their bikes like all other kids.

Tomorrow, we have a picnic & concert to wrap up the weekend. Stay tuned to hear how it goes.

I need a Siesta after this Fiesta

Our youth group at church normally has a mission trip every summer. The past few years, they've gone to Casa de la Esperanza in Mexico, and spent the week doing hard labour and playing with the kids. Casa is a children's home, and they rely upon these visits from youth, college and other groups to get a lot of their funding and to get a lot of work done.

Problem: There is a travel advisory to Mexico, due to the violence that's been rampaging through parts of the country for the past few months. And then they had to go get Swine Flu.

So, our youth, along with many, many others, weren't able to go. On one level, that really depresses me; the Mexican people have to live there and deal with this situation all the time, but as soon as the going gets rough, the Americans back off and leave them to stand alone. It breaks my heart. On the other hand, I don't really have a solution apart from sending our kids down there regardless, and not for anything do I want one of our kids to get hurt.

But, we have a solution of sorts. Our youth group has spent a lot of time & energy on fundraisers the past couple of months, in order to make up some of the funding shortfall that Casa is looking at this year. All that fundraising cumulated in an "Ultimate Mexican Fiesta" last Sunday evening.

We had fajitas. We had tres leches cake. We had agua horchata, and some sort of mango drink. (Both of which were amazingly good.) We had a mariachi band, who were also amazingly good. I was sad when they left.

And, to cap it all off, we had a live auction of stuff actually brought from Mexico. Blankets, pottery, candy, souveniers, and other stuff along those lines were all up for grabs. Before we started, the youth minister encouraged everyone to be generous to help Casa: "I want you to leave this auction feeling like you were ripped off," he said.

And I was impressed, as ever, with the generosity to be found in the room that night. So much so that I wished that the people with deep pockets would go home so I could bid on something. The auctioneer, a member of the church, was really, really good. I don't know where he learned it, but he was brilliant.

And a lot of money was raised. I hope that those present felt some sort of solidarity with the Christians in Mexico, who are trying to serve the Lord in circumstances that we in Lubbock can't imagine. I hope that more than our money was sent south of the border last week. I hope that our hearts went along with it as well.

Breakfast

It was my turn to bring breakfast for Bible class a few weeks ago, so this is what I made...




A fruit pizza..










And a fruit salad with the leftovers. Good stuff.







I told everyone not to think of this as "health food", since it really isn't, but I don't think they believed me. But, they ate it anyway.

Training

I've meant to share this little story for a couple of weeks, but keep forgetting about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I went out for a 9-mile run. I was starting a bit later than usual, so I just ran in a circle around the south of Lubbock, starting & finishing at our door (pretty much). It was cloudy, and had been raining off and on for a couple of days, so I put my iPod in a plastic bag before attaching it "just in case".

I had gone about a mile when it started sprinkling. By two miles, it was sprinkling harder. And by the time I reached the 4-mile point, I was in an all-out downpour. There was no dry spot on my shirt to wipe my glasses on, so I perched them on top of my head. I gave up trying to go around puddles, and just went straight through them. I stopped praying that God would stop the rain, and started praying that he would keep my phone (which was in my pocket) from being ruined. I was wringing out my shirt as I went along, for reasons passing understanding, as it did no good whatsoever.

I came to the corner where I turn to head back toward home. There is a country club almost at the corner, with something currently under construction sitting directly south of it against the street. I normally go along the street, but this day the construction site was a mud slick. Deciding that it would be a very strange golfer indeed who was out in this weather, I cut through the golf course.

And for all that water, not one single car splashed me. Not that is mattered, because I couldn't have gotten any wetter.

Some photos for your enjoyment:

After I finished.

My poor socks. They picked up quite a bit of dirt along the way!

The iPod and phone were both none the worse for having had a soggy, 2-hour run.

Music & Fireworks

So, I've never been to an Independence day concert. In fact, I've only been to the actual "grounds" where the fireworks were being set off twice in my life-- once at the river in Evansville, and a few years ago in Lubbock. When I was growing up, my parents refused to go see the fireworks live at the high school, on the grounds that we could sit in our grandparents' front yard and see most of them.

This year, we decided to go have a look at them in person again. We went early, even though we weren't that interested in the concert, in the hopes of finding a parking space. As it was, we parked a mile away (no, seriously-- I run in that park all the time) from where we ended up sitting. But, it turned out that the concert was quite good! I didn't know either of the men who were the headliners, but they were fantastic. Of course, any concert that includes music from Hello, Dolly!, Les Miserables, The Phantom of the Opera, and Lord of the Rings is bound to be great in my book. And the Lubbock Youth Symphony Orchestra, who played all this music, was fantastic.

The fireworks were also good, and an added bonus (for me) was the live music that went along with it. The music & fireworks were timed to complement each other, and it went off almost perfectly. They started off with "Stars and Stripes Forever", always a good bet in my book, and we found out later that one of the girls from church was on the piccolo. Girl has got some skill.

The traffic going back home was pretty heavy-- after all, organisers were expecting 80,000-100,000 people, which is nearly half the population of Lubbock. The Lubbock PD were way on top of things with their traffic-directing skills, but even at that it took us 40 minutes to cover what is normally a 15-minute (if that) drive. Still, no complaints. It was fun.

In fact, since we had so much fun, I imagine we will be doing it again next year.

Break out the Strawberries & Cream

Wow. I don't think there are any words left for how I feel about that tennis match. Andy Roddick was spectacular, but in the end, Roger Federer was slightly spectacular-er. And I am so happy about that.

Six Wimbledons, one of few to win the French Open & Wimbledon in the same year, all four majors, and oh yeah, more Grand Slams (15) than anyone. Geez, this guy is amazing. And here's the kicker-- he's not done yet. Looking forward to more amazing spectacularity from him.

I had the most trouble getting to see this match-- our NBC only gets a signal sometimes (although, of course, it's coming in perfectly now that Federer v Roddick is done), so I was watching on the internet-- which got stuck when the score was 5-5. And for a couple of minutes, I had no feed on the internet and no signal on the TV. I actually laid down on the floor and was about to cry, when the Lord heard my prayer and both the TV and the internet came back at once. Thank goodness.

Also, Rafa Nadal, please get that knee well soon. It's not the same without you.

I found out something amazing!

While casually perusing the West Texas Running Club's website, I saw something unusual under the race results. I just wanted to verify my time in the 10 mile race from yesterday. Well, those results aren't on the site yet, but I saw that the results from 1978 are. Odd, I thought, but since that happens to be my year of birth, I opened them to have a look anyway.

I was so intent on looking for people I currently know in the running club, that I missed the first name of note on the list. The second, however, was unmissable: George W. Bush. Age: 31. Hometown: Midland, TX. Time: 20:11. (Not a bad time at all for a 3-mile race!) And just as my brain was still stuttering "Wait-- is that-- ?" I saw that someone had marked this particular line with three arrows. That's who I was supposed to see.

And I glanced back up to to the top, and noticed another marked name: Willie McCool. Age: 16. Hometown: Lubbock, TX. Time: 16:02. (Holy smokes!) This, obviously, was before he joined the Navy, before he learned to fly, and long before his last mission ended in tragedy on February 1, 2003. This name is, for me, a lot more exciting, only because he is a lot closer to my life. He lived in this city for a few years. I train at the Willie McCool Track & Field at Coronado High School. I drive by his monument in Huneke Park. I was standing in front of Coronado mere hours after he died as his classmates laid flowers by the school sign & hung up a banner in tribute to him.

On July 4, 1978, these two remarkable men, along with 65 others, ran a 3-mile race in celebration of Independence day. Another day, another race for the WTRC. It is remarkable that they may have seen one another-- it is an out-and-back course, and Willie, as the faster runner, would have reached the turnaround first. Did either of them even glance up to see the other one? Since we can't see the future, I suppose it didn't enter into either's wildest dreams that not quite 25 short years after that Independence Day run, Mr. Bush would be the president, presiding at Mr. McCool's memorial service.

Yesterday, 31 years later, I ran in the same race, for the same reason, on those same roads. Because I am a runner, as is Mr. Bush. As was Mr. McCool. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Fourth on Broadway

I haven't been to our downtown 4th of July street festival for years-- not since the first summer I lived here, really. So, this year we decided to go, after getting refreshed from the race and having lunch so we wouldn't spend a fortune on street fair food.

Yeah. The street fair was almost ALL food. And a couple of mobile phone dealers, and a PSA about the census next year. It's not like we were going to forget, but the man gave us a couple of fridge magnets & pencils just in case.

There were a lot of entertainment tents, but none of them were entertaining enough for us to want to stop. So in the future, I suppose we will plan our downtown jaunts around when people we know will be performing.

There was a parade, too, but we missed it what with our running races and whatnot. Ach, well. Next up: Fireworks.

Let Firecrackers Run

Yep, "Firecracker Run" was the name of the race today. What? I didn't name it!

Yeah, so for the second hit year in a row, Chad & I got lost on our way to the race. This year, we got more lost than last year. I didn't know that was possible.

I was all lined up at the start, and realised that I didn't have any sunscreen on. Oops! Far too late to do anything about it at that point, so I just didn't worry about it. We took off, and I was calling myself all kinds of crazy for signing up for the 10 mile for the first couple of miles. But, I got all settled into my stride, remembered to take walk breaks at each mile, and more or less focused on enjoying my run. And wondering what Chad was doing; he volunteered today, and he drove past me a couple of times. Apparently, he was delivering supplies to the aid stations.

So, not long past mile 3 (for me), I noticed someone up ahead that I hadn't seen before. For a moment, I wondered if that was the leader of the race coming back already, then I thought, "No, it can't be," then I saw that it was. Sheesh. Also, wow! Was he ever moving fast. (It turned out that he wasn't quite going twice as fast as me. I'll take it.)

It's my intention for the next couple of months to experiment with the various sports gels & carb replacements available to see what I like & what works for me. These past two weeks, I've used fruit leather; cheap, simple, and pretty well tasty. (The jury is still out on effective.) I was feeling a bit silly taking some along with me today, until I saw how many of the front-of-the-pack people had their PowerBar gels & other fancy stuff. So, I ate my fruit leather. It was so hot out that when I took it out at mile 5, there was condensation on the inside of the package. Yikes.

The sun came out from behind a cloud at mile 8, and that's when I found out how hot it was. That is, very hot. It stayed out for the remainder of the race (about 22 more minutes), but my back was to the sun for most of that time, so it wasn't too bad.

As ever, I was grateful to the encouragement shouters, aid station workers, and all-around fun people gathered near the finish to cheer in the stragglers. Since it was my first 10-mile race, I couldn't help but PR (gotta love the first race at a new distance), and since there were only 3 people in my age group, I couldn't help but get a medal, either. Brilliant!

Going to the dogs

As a running, walking, and cycling enthusiaist, I see a lot of dogs. A lot. Big dogs, small dogs, friendly dogs, dogs that would like to have my leg for a snack, dogs that have tried to have my leg for a snack. All sorts of dogs.

On my ride to work, I pass a dog that I think would eat me if given the chance. There is a gap in his fence that is the right size for his face to fit into; as a result, all I've seen of this dog is his nose & teeth. And every now and then, one manic eye. It's possible that this is the friendliest dog in Lubbock and he just wants to play, but somehow he gives me the opposite impression.

On my ride from work, I pass a yard with a chain-link fence, so I've had a good look at both of the dogs who would deafen me, if given the chance. At first, they would jump up and run to the fence barking at me; then, they would jump up and walk to the fence with just a bark or two; then they would just stand up. Lately, they've not even done that. I thought they were getting used to me, but one day when I walked by, they jumped up, ran to the fence, and tried to make me deaf with barking again. So, I suppose it's the bike they recognise.

And there are these itty bitty dogs, just a couple of blocks away from the high-volume dogs, that sometimes get out of their yard and try to chase me. They aren't big enough to even register as a bump if one of them were to jump in front of me, and yet they will chase me for a whole block, yipping away as I tell them to go home.

And my favourites... there are some dogs on one of my running routes that I just love. They used to bark at me, but now they barely glance up when I run by. I don't know dog breeds, but I would guess these dogs are beagles, only because they kind of look like Snoopy. They are really cute, and really friendly, and will run along the fence with me if they are already up. I love seeing them.

Moral of the story: I don't have a moral. Or a dog.

The Williams sisters are amazing

Yep. I'm still talking about tennis. Wimbledon ends on Sunday; you need only bear it for a few more days.

So, Serena's match was a nail-biter-- I didn't see a lot of it, but what I saw had me glued to the TV, afraid to look away because I might miss something. I saw the last three games, though, and did so much shrieking with joy and jumping up & down that one of my coworkers asked, "Are you okay?" There was a moment when her opponent was up 5-4, and had the advantage, that I thought Serena was going home early-- but, no. She pulled it back, won three games in a row, and left the crowd with quite a lot to talk about during their tea break.

Venus' match was a lot less interesting; she dominated from start to finish. Safina (the world #1, by the way) was way outmatched. To be fair, she didn't really seem to bring her "A" game today (or her "B" game, and perhaps not her "C" game), but for her to only get 1 game out of 13 is crazy. Yeah, I'd say grass is not her favourite surface. But that was a short match; I only saw 30 minutes, and that was the match half done! Crazy!

So, brilliant match coming on Saturday morning. Yay! In the meantime, there is Federer v Hass and Murray v Roddick (also known as Andy v Andy) for me to sneak away from work to watch tomorrow.

Kicking the habit

And by that I mean, kicking the habit back on. Yep, my blog has a kick-starter. Doesn't yours?

So, what with brevity being the soul of both wit and Twitter, I've gotten out of the habit to blogging. To get back into it, I've set a goal to blog every day for the month of July. Get ready to read some drivel.

And to start off, let's talk about the match with my good pal Roger Federer today. First of all, he's just too good, isn't he? I tuned in during the third set, and would have enjoyed a fourth, but no, Roger had to go win. And at the end, I noticed that he seems to have shrunken in the wash. Perhaps it was the rain at the French Open final? The man he was playing was quite a bit taller than he. So, I googled Mr. Karlovic to discover that he is 6'10" tall. Mystery solved, new mystery started; how could someone that tall, presumably with matching arms, ever lose a tennis match?

Also, everything went my way at Wimbledon today... except for Novak Djokovic. He was supposed to win. He was supposed to play Federer Friday. Now it'll be Tommy Haas instead. Can't have everything, though, and at least we get an Andy v Andy match Friday. (Murray v Roddick, that is... let's go Murray!)

No, seriously, it was scary.

This morning, that song "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" came up on my iPod. In the midst of the varied advice, the man says, "Do one thing every day that scares you."

So, I did: I tried riding my bike with no hands on the way home.

Now, I've been working on this little skill off and on (a few seconds at a time) for a couple of months. Today, I tried the whole of the one street that I ride on that isn't busy, which amounts to about six blocks. I think the best I did was nearly a whole block before having to grab the handlebars and adjust. Which, given my natural senses of balance, grace and coordination, is nothing short of miraculous.

I'm not sure why it has taken me so long to pick up on this; my cousins could do it, my friends could do it, my husband does it very well (neighbourhood kids stop what they are doing and stare in awe when he rides by), but I've never been able to. Until now.

I'll keep practising-- but now I have to find a new thing that scares me to do tomorrow. Perhaps I'll stare down a spider.

Less than stellar, alas.

I started the year off with three fantastic races (5 mile, 1/2 marathon, 10K), followed by two that were, um, less fantastic.

But that's okay.

I really, really wanted a PR today. I have been looking forward to this race for about six months, with the hopes of getting my time down to 1:02:00 (that's a 10-minute per-mile pace). The past few days, I had eased up a bit and decided I would be just as happy with 1:02:30, which is about 20 seconds faster than my current PR.

I finished in 1:03:45. Or, about one minute slower than my current PR. Bummer.

So, after a few tears at the finish line (that's become a recurring theme for me, anyway) and a growl for anyone who dared asked me if I met my goal (sorry about that!), I have recovered. We have at least two more 10Ks before the year is out. Plenty of time to hit that magical 10-minute pace that I've been looking for.

So, on Monday, it's back to work.

French Open Glory

I love tennis. A lot. I can't play, of course, because that would require hand-eye coordination, but I love to watch other people play. Especially when those people play really, really well.

I would have loved another Federer v Nadal final. I'm still not tired of watching those two play each other. But I found that I could equally well love a Federer v anyone final. And I had my eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss a moment. I was standing in the middle of my living room for the last game, to better facilitate the exuberant jumping that occurs when Roger Federer wins things.

Part of my love for tennis comes from the moment common to all sports: the reaction of the winner. I loved when Roger fell to the ground in tears after winning his fifth Wimbledon. Even better (if there is such a thing) was Rafa climbing into the stands to embrace his parents after winning his first Wimbledon. And today, Roger screamed as he fell to his knees, rejoicing in the moment, before hitting a ball into the stands. I love the reaction.

And I'll probably be smiling all week. Can't wait for Wimbledon. Also, before next year, I must learn French.

Please click here...

... to have a look at Beth's blog and the cause she is championing. Pretty good cause, I'd say. And, you get a chance to win some pretty yarn.

In the middle of our street

So we went for a walk Sunday afternoon.

It was, as most (all) of our walks are, for a purpose; we needed laundry detergent. So, out the door we went. I was struck, for the umpteenth time, by how much of my neighbourhood I miss by driving. There are geese in just about every yard (not the mad geese, by the way; these seem to be more docile) around the park, which provides many opportunities for amusement, although possibly not for the homeowners. I saw a couple of pretty angel statues in the yard on the corner for the first time; I've driven past there hundreds of times and never seen them.

And to get to the store, we went through two different church parking lots just as everyone was leaving. Two different denominations, two different groups of people, don't know us from any other John or Jane (or Chad or Susan) they might see, and do you know what happened? Everyone who we got near to smiled and said hello.

I fail to see the advantage in driving.

Time to go!

Yes, I have been sadly neglecting my blog. Mostly it is because I'm not doing anything that interesting right now. There is also the evil influence of Facebook to deal with, and finally, I've been working on two quilts, and that takes up the rest of my spare time.

We ran a race last weekend; Chad and I both brought home medals; race report to follow once I've finished quilting.

I worked overtime this week, to get sort-of caught up in time to go out of town.

And... I'm leaving tomorrow in the wee hours to head for Indiana, so I can see my brother get married. That hasn't stopped sounding strange yet.

Today, I have lots to do (graduation gifts & cards to buy, birthday cards as well, suitcase to pack, hair to get done, and more quilting to do), starting with a run of an hour or so. I'd better get on it.

I write some of the world's most brilliant blog posts in my head when the computer is far out of reach, but they are gone completely once I sit down to write them. Sheesh.

So, I'm back to full power, as far as I can tell, in both the running and the cycling. Yay! I went running Monday evening with a big silly grin on my face, I was so happy to be out and going. We have a race on Saturday (six miles), and I'm looking forward to it.

Getting everything together for my trip to Indiana-- I leave in 10 days. I'm working on quilts for my soon-to-be niece & nephew, and should be doing that instead of blogging right now.

It may not be Swine Flu, but it still stinks.

So, I've been leaving spelling errors all over the Internet. I realise that this is not a problem for most people-- I see others' errors all the time-- but for my borderline OCD and well-over-the-border anal brain, this is a nightmare. I like correct spelling. It makes me happy.

I've narrowed down the source of my spelling woes to two possibilities: 1. All the bad spellers around me have finally taken their toll on my limited mental capacity; or 2. It's oxygen deprivation from this stupid cold, and I probably shouldn't be typing while sick.

Now, it's a great American tradition, as well as a gen-X mandate, to blame all my troubles on other people. But I won't do that, because I really do believe it is reason two. My body, and therefore, my brain, are busy fighting off the enemy invaders that are limiting my breathing, causing muscle aches, sending me into violent coughing spasms, raising my temperature, and otherwise making sure I can't run today. So, I'm sure the spelling ability will return once all combatants have left the battlefield.

In the meantime, just make fun of me; I lack the capacity to notice right now, anyway.

Sneaking one last one in.

... Before May hits. Arrives. Whichever you want to call it.

So, I've been sick this week, which has led to not much blogging, because there is not much interesting to say about being sick.

Except this: It's my bad luck to get sick during a national panic attack. Seriously. I had my nose & throat swabbed (fun!) and had to wait around to see if anything came back positive (it didn't). If the flu test had been positive, it would have gone to the local Department of Health, and if it was the correct type of positive there, then it would have gone to the CDC in Atlanta. The thought of the CDC examining the contents of my nose was not a happy one. Thankfully, I am flu- and strep-free, and therefore mostly capable of going to work. And I have hopes of a full recovery by Sunday, because I don't want to take DayQuil on my birthday.

So, I have another post cooking about my current quilt project. Stay tuned.

Palmolive Eco

To kick off my environmentally- & budget-friendly blogging, I'm going to give a little review of a product I'm currently using: Palmolive Eco. As with many things in my life, I came upon this version of Palmolive by accident; I usually buy my detergent at the Dollar General, but on this particular evening I was already at the supermarket and thought that buying detergent from them once in a while won't bankrupt me. So, I looked for the cheapest name-brand gel that was available, and this was it.

We rinse our dishes before loading them in the dishwasher, so I haven't had the problems with food stuck on the dishes that people in Spokane, where phosphate-free detergent is the only choice available, are having. But, we do have hard water, so some of my utensils have looked like this:

I've seen a little bit of the white film on a couple other things, but it is particularly noticeable on my black utensils. It may also be the texture of the utensils; they are smooth, but not glossy.

Just by way of comparison:

The cup on the left came out of the same load of dishes that the above-pictured measuring cup & spoon. It is glossy, so the white film doesn't seem to stick. The cup on the right is from the same set as the one in the previous picture, but I haven't used it in a couple of weeks, so it has not yet been washed in the Palmolive Eco.

I happened to have a few things that needed to be hand washed sitting in the sink, so I popped in the measuring cup and the spoon. After washing (with Palmolive hand washing soap), this is how they came out:

Still some while film, but not nearly as much as before.

My verdict? Well, phosphate-free is coming, whether you are ready for it or not; in the summer of 2010, quite a few states are banning detergents with phosphates from sale. This blog will tell you more about which states as well as giving some hope; the detergent makers are still trying to perfect their formula and get our dishes cleaner.

Will I use Palmolive Eco again? Probably not any time soon. Even at a promotional price, it is still more expensive than buying Cascade at the dollar store, so this may be a one-off thing. But I am willing to try other phosphate-free options in the course of the next couple of years; Texas isn't among the states mandating it by next summer, but that doesn't mean we'll never be moving, or that Texas won't join in eventually.

And, of course, there is always the hand washing option; it is friendlier to the dishes, and uses less water & electricity. Really, the only thing it takes is time, but perhaps I'm ready to "budget" a few minutes every evening for the savings we would see in our water, electric, and shopping bills; hand detergent is also cheaper than the dishwasher variety, and it lasts longer.

Shopping trip

Okay, after a series of long posts, I'm going to give you a short one-- just a little account of my bicycle-enabled shopping trip today.

First of all, why are all the drivers glaring at me? I'm really not in their way. Maybe it is because my bike can go places their cars can't.

Had a brief encounter with a car full of idiot 20-somethings. I thought at first that they might be idiot teens, but no, they certainly had the look of older, rather than younger, idiots. Good to know people can be idiots for as many decades as they like.

At the risk of sounding insensitive, my bike has enough tics and quirks to be in the psych ward. I forgot my chain, but anyone stealing that thing deserves what they get.

A trip to Hobby Lobby makes everything better. Hobby Lobby is like chocolate without the calories.

The limit on how many times you can drop ear buds on the floor and still expect them to work is three. Once you get to four, they quit.

And finally, in case you were wondering, a brand-new laptop bag can, in fact, be sucked into the gap between the wheel and the bike frame. So, before I owned the thing for five minutes, I had already inflicted damage upon it. At least I'll grab the correct bag in security at the airport.

Retreat!

We had a women's retreat on Friday evening (okay, more like a women's evening than retreat. Whatever.), which I all but forgot about in all the excitement on Saturday. I won't bother with the blow-by-blow recap, because I know it's just not that interesting to read about an event you weren't at. If you really, really want to know, I'm happy to oblige.

The event title was "Daughters of Eve," with the theme being stewardship. First round was stewardship of the earth; second round was stewardship of our bodies. Both of these are topics in which I am particuarly interested, as regular readers have probably already learned.

So I did giggle a bit at the environmental portion of the evening; I come from a family that was into conservation long before conservation was cool. It goes with the low-income territory. Things that people now find remarkable ("Hey, we can use this butter tub for leftovers!" "Don't throw out that bag; it can be re-used." "Put those vegetable peelings into the compost bin.") are things that my grandparents, and probably all their friends, did in the '50s. Who knew that the rest of society would catch up?

I guess this is Earth week, based on the number of websites and TV stations that are all greened up. Which works out nicely, because I've been contemplating an earth-friendly blog series of my own. Mostly for my own amusement, of course, but also in case anyone is wondering about such things as phosphate-free dishwasher detergent. Stay tuned.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about the retreat. It was a great evening, with fellowship and laughter as well as good messages from all. And to think that womens' events used to be boring! They have gotten much more fun in recent years. Or maybe I've gotten more fun.

I was KIDDING!

So, in my previous post, I mentioned going on a 40-year wilderness trek in search of Moses, and that we might need search & rescue.

I was not being serious. But I think I was the one who jinxed us. Sorry guys!

Here then, split into a few posts for easier reading, is the blow-by-blowout account of our trip, written pretty much as it happened:

So our trip to Monahans started off as expected; we headed out at about 8:45, the kids were reviewing for the competition, adults reading or chatting, and our intrepid bus driver (Chad) was, well, intrepidly driving. We stopped off in Seminole for a break, then continued on.

Just a few miles outside of Andrews (at around 10 AM), we heard a bang!, which we wrote off as being a rock. Ha! If only. Barely a mile later, the bus took on a very alarming shimmy, so Chad got us off the road and stopped as quickly as he could (and safely, it should be pointed out). He & the other men up front hopped off in short order to investigate, rapidly followed by me, and pretty much all the boys on the bus.

Our front tire was gone. Except it wasn’t, because it had wrapped itself around—okay, I’m not into cars. It was wrapped around whatever that metal thing is. And said metal thing was bent. So, the men swung into action getting the bus jacked up, investigating, realising we didn’t have a spare tire, taking the bent metal thing off, and all the other stuff men do on occasions like this. The kids, meanwhile, thought this was the best event ever and were running around, playing with sticks, kicking up dirt, collecting bits of tire, and otherwise making their mothers crazy.

It was up to me to phone the other bus and get them to come back, because they had been far enough in front to not notice that we had stopped (the other two vehicles in the caravan did stop). Actually, it wasn’t entirely up to me, because about three people tried to get the other driver via calls & text, but since the other driver was, you know, driving, he didn’t notice. I tried a different tact, though: I called his wife. She got them turned around and headed back our way.

We loaded up all the kids on the other bus, all women from our bus (minus me!) in the Surburban, and waved good-bye. (I also sent my camera on with a girl who promised to take very good care of it. Who knows what kind of pictures we will get!) Meanwhile, another couple took off in their pickup to get the bent thing fixed, and another tire, and whatever. I’m really not a car person, so I don’t know what they were doing.

While they were gone, we stood around getting sunburnt and talking about sports. And discussing how “get the spare tire from the trailer” ought to be on the pre-trip checklist for church trips.

Tire came back, was reattached to the bus, and off we went. We’re on our way to a dealership in Odessa that has a wheel of some sort (ours, it turns out, is now cracked). It is 1 PM, and the competiton should be starting in Monahans right now.

What next?

Two hours, one long stop at a Ford dealership, and a one and one-half pizzas gratefully accepted from the car dealer (motivated to some extent, I think, by his desire to see some repeat business from at least one of these men), and we’re headed out of Odessa en route to Monahans. Also, a few phone calls have been fielded from mothers eager to share the news of their children’s accomplishments with fathers who stayed behind to see the church bus put back together properly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arrived safely at 3:45ish. Greeted graciously by the ladies of 3rd & Dwight, who provided good sandwiches, kool-ade & cookies that are almost as good as my Grandma’s. Much discussion ensued between the adults—early- and late- arrivals—about the necessity for clearer directions on the pre-trip inspection sheet in regards to the location of the spare tire for the buses (in the trailer that we didn’t bring with us). General fat-chewing and laughter of reunion between friends who last saw each other three hours ago.

The end

I've mentioned in Bible bowl posts from the past that our kids are always so well-behaved and fun to be around on this trip, and despite not being with them for four-ish hours of the trip, I have to say they came through for us again. More on that later.

We arrived at Monahans in time for the final round, which we did not see, since we were in the foyer yakking. Then was some singing time for the kids while the kind people at Monahans tallied the scores, prepared packets for the coaches, and probably had a strong cup of coffee. Okay, maybe they didn't do that, but I certainly would have! This competition is my favourite by far, and it is due to the hard work that the church in Monahans puts into making sure everything runs smoothly. And despite all that hard work, they still have enough energy on Saturday to be gracious and friendly hosts all day long, and tolerate 100+ children running round their building like banshees (we did try to discourage the indoor running!)

Anyway! Our pal Morgan was doing the songleading, and he did a fantastic job. Before he went in, I strongly requested as many action songs as possible to get the kids tired! He agreed, but it didn't work. Oh, well, thanks anyway, Morgan.

So South Plains brought home some trophies for individuals and teams. I'm telling you, these kids work HARD. They all do. I was a high school Bible bowler, and I thought that I studied early and late, but the SP elementary kids have me beat. I am totally impressed by their hard work, and the effort the teachers put in. All that work is paid off, not in bringing home hardware to add to our collection, but in seeing the kids learn the Bible. Even the kids that seem like they are paying the least attention have a tendency to delight us when put to it, and answer questions correctly when they might have been expected to miss. These are some great kids.

Aaaaand... the ride home

So, long day (8 AM - 11 PM), fun, long periods of sitting still, excitement & emotions from winning awards, eating at a fun restaurant-- it all adds up to this: These kids are not falling asleep any time soon.

We ate dinner in Odessa (My apologies to Texas Roadhouse for starting a mini-riot at our table. My apologies to future Bible bowlers if you aren't allowed back to Texas Roadhouse. My apologies to parents for getting your daughters all riled up. If anyone else would like an apology, let me know.), then headed for Lubbock.

Let me put it this way: Our bus was LOUD. Riled up, indeed. They swapped stories, they played Truth or Dare (until I ordered them to stop; it was getting a bit out of hand), they sang, they poked each other, they bounced out of their seats until Chad asked me to enforce the wearing of seat belts. But finally, after a final load-up of sugar in Seminole, the noise level dropped down, and the kids (and I!) fell asleep. I think one of them stayed awake, but she wasn't making any noise, so I didn't notice.

Lest you think I am-- or was-- upset with the kids in any way, I assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. I have a hard time being on my best behaviour for 15 hours (as those who are regularly around me will probably tell you), and I'm nearly 31 years old. How much harder is it for 9- to 12-year-olds? All that pent-up energy; we probably needed to drive to the nearest running track and let them work off some steam for 20 minutes before heading home. (Hey, we were late anyway; why not?)

So, tire drama notwithstanding, the trip was great. I bet I sleep good tonight.

Monahans, maybe

After promising (three years in a row now!) that we were done with Bible bowl forever, we are once again going on a Bible bowl trip. Tomorrow, we are taking a 40-year trek into the desert to see if we can find Moses.

Or, maybe the trip to Monahans only seems like a 40-year trek. It's three hours away, but the scenery leaves much to be desired. However, once we get there, the church is so friendly and they do host a great competition.

If you don't hear from me for three days, send out search & rescue.

You're going to buy bottled water anyway, right?

So if you are purchasing bottled water between now & August 31st, please consider buying Volvic. Why, you ask?

According to the label, "For every litre of Volvic that you purchase from April 1 to August 31, Volvic will make a donation to UNICEF to provide a minimum of 10 litres of clean water to children in Africa." Sounds like a good use of my bottled-water purchasing money to me.

For more information, go here. Volvic will be making a minimum donation of $250,000 this year, but I think we can make that number go higher, don't you?

Freedom not shared.

I am not a champion of many causes. When it comes to me vs. the rest of the world, I mostly just want the people I care about to love Jesus, and while you're at it, why don't you give healthy living a chance. That's it.

But I read this article about an Iranian blogger who died in prison, and felt compelled to write about it. To champion this man's cause in my own small way. To at least acknowledge that a human life has been uselessly lost.

He was just a blogger, writing about life. He had a small audience. But from time to time his frustration with the government got the better of him, and he wrote about it. So he was arrested, tried and imprisoned for "insulting" the government in his blog.

We've always had free speech, so I sometimes forget that there are those who do not. Ditto on freedom of religion & freedom of the press. And when one hears continual stories of death and devestation around the world, it is far too easy to become calloused and unfeeling towards those who suffer.

But he was just a blogger. Like me. Trying to educate the world about daily life in his country. I would read his blog, but it's been shut down. But there are other Iranians who blog, other people in oppressed countries who are reaching out to the world just to let us know about their lives. They are human, just as I am. They are communicators, just as I strive to be.

That's why I want to read their blogs.

Part three: And what happened before.

So Lent was a struggle for me this year. I managed to keep a grand total of none of my resolutions for the whole six weeks. What was the problem, I wonder?

Perhaps I have done it so many times it feels rote and I’ve lost interest. Perhaps it was the lack of prior planning (I started thinking about what I would do for Lent on Shrove Tuesday; that’s a bit late). Perhaps it was because I was doing it by myself this year; I usually have a friend or two who is in on the journey with me. Perhaps I’ve made Lent some mystical, magical thing and the day-to-day reality was too much for me.

Or maybe it was because I’ve disconnected Lent from the context in which it is celebrated. I may be hindering my own efforts because I’m not in a high church and therefore don’t really get all the special days that fall within this six weeks. Perhaps taking Lent out of the church calendar and celebrating it on my own makes about as much sense as wearing my earbuds without plugging them into my iPod.

Maybe I should call a do-over. Maybe I should evaluate why I do Lent every year. Maybe next year I should skip Lent, just to see what it is like. And maybe in a year’s time all this wondering will seem as silly as when I re-read the things I wrote in high school and giggle at my 16-year-old perception of the world. Perhaps my 30-year-old view of Lent isn’t quite ready for real world testing.

But for all my failures and shortcomings these past six weeks, I have felt myself more aware of the Lord, more open to his work in my life, more eager to fellowship with his people. So I do not feel that I have wasted my time.

And that’s my final word on Easter. Until next year.

Part two: But maybe it shouldn't be.

As previously mentioned, I do not attend a high church. So the events of Easter are a bit of a mystery to me.

I went to an Ash Wednesday service this year for the first time. I’ve been celebrating Lent since I was 12. I’ve attended a Tenebrae service and a sunrise service. I’ve participated in an Easter-weekend fast. But all of these things, when taken separately and out of their normal context as a part of church life, are merely events. Cool things to do and talk about for a bit with friends, before deciding what to do with my Sunday afternoon.

By not acknowledging the church calendar, I think I, and those around me, have shortchanged ourselves just a bit. We don’t take this season any more seriously than any other. We don’t spend the six weeks leading up to this one Sunday preparing heart, mind and body for the celebration that is to come. We don’t take this time to ponder just how much the cost to Jesus was. (Those should be activities that we take part in all the time, not just during Lent.) But I wonder if a period to specifically refocus on Jesus and spend six weeks—six weeks!—considering him would be good for all of us. I know it has been a blessing for me.

I think it is probably time for Christians of all types to stop trying to disassociate ourselves from what every other Christian group is doing, and start looking at what we could learn from one another. It may be that the church across the street has ideas that would only lead to growth in my love for Jesus.

Part 1: Easter is like any given Sunday

Easter is a holiday of paradoxes. On this day—this whole week, really—we find a time for seriousness and celebration, for joy and for solemnity. For reflection, and for merrymaking.

Those around us who do not believe in, or do not care about, Jesus’ sacrifice for us, see this weekend as a time to load up on candy, or perhaps enjoy a day off work. They shake their heads in wonder about how Easter moves around every year. They may buy a new outfit for spring or dust off the white shoes for summer. And they probably wonder why churches make such a fuss over one little Sunday out of the year.

In all fairness, some Christians wonder that, too. I do not belong to a high church. We acknowledge Easter by having an egg hunt for the children, and the little ones get a special Resurrection lesson. Otherwise, it’s worship as usual. :)

And to some extent, worship as usual is a good thing! I don’t look at this one season as the time to especially focus on Jesus’ redeeming work, because that is an ongoing process all the time. We should celebrate Jesus every Sunday. There is no need to skimp on our praise and adoration the other 51 weeks of the year. For the Christian, one’s whole life is a celebration, a (perhaps) decades-long tribute to the One who died so that we may live. There is no need to save up all that joy and adoration for one Sunday a year.

So, for my Easter Sunday, I sang songs of praise with joy in my heart. I reflected on what Jesus did as I participated in the Lord’s Supper. I watched others worship and thought about how blessed I am to have such a church family.

You know. Worship as usual.

Another 10K!

I ran my favourite distance today- 10K. I LOVE 10Ks.

Usually.

I also love to be warm. I'd rather be too hot than too cold, except when running, when I'd like to be a touch cool at the beginning so that I'm nice and warm once I get going. But, the temps were in the low 40s this morning, and the wind was blowing somewhere around 20 mph. And I was wearing shorts.

The race director made a joke at the beginning about this not being a day for PRs, we all laughed, and I totally agreed-- and not just because of the weather. I haven't done much in the way of speedwork the past couple of months; in fact, I've slacked off on all my running the past couple of weeks. So, I was out for the fun of it. My PR was 1:03:17, and I was just hoping to get under 1:10:00 today.

(BTW: It took me until mile 4 to get warm. And by then I was nearly done.)

Chad ran the 2-mile race today, so he was waiting for me just before the 6-mile mark and ran in with me. He told me that I was still under one hour. I thought he was exaggerating. I could see the 6-mile marker, so I started forwarding my iPod to the song I like to finish to (Scotland the Brave), since it is a few minutes long. I had to hit "next" several times before I got to it, so I thought I had loaded too many songs on my iPod.

We rounded a couple of corners before getting to the finish, and I saw the clock-- it said 1:02:30. I said, "Oh my gosh, you are KIDDING me!" before kicking it in and sprinting to the finish line as hard as I could go.

Result: New PR-- 1:02:54. Wow. The running club president said, "Imagine what you could do in good weather!"

Oh, I'm imagining, all right. We have another 10K in two months' time. This PR will not stand for long.

A plague upon Facebook!

So I finally allowed myself to be talked into joining Facebook.

And I'm all zooming along, thinking how kind it is of Facebook to suggest people I may know to add to my friends, when up pops this message about how I am engaging in annoying and/or abusive behaviour.

What is really a bummer about that is this: I had finally gotten to the people I actually went on to Facebook to connect with in the first place. And now I've been stopped. Dang!

I'm craving tea & toast

However, we have 1) no bread and 2) no margarine. I'm not sure if you've spotted the problem here.

In fact, we don't have much food in our kitchen at all; our refrigerator looks like we've had a pre-Thanksgiving clean-out. I guess we decided that this was not the week we were going to spend money on groceries. Or something.

I have oatmeal & tea & a splash of milk (seriously, that's all the milk we have) for my pre-race breakfast tomorrow, though, so it's all good.

I have 1 follower!

And I suppose that means I have a following. Brilliant!

If I manage to drum up another follower, then I will claim to have minions. Mwah hah hah!

Coming this weekend: It's the End of Lent, and What Have You (I) Done?

Just when I think they are out of ideas...

I was about to write off my favourite TV shows-- NCIS and Criminal Minds-- because they both had a sluggish start to this season. But boy, have things picked up lately. They've got me hooked all over again.

Anyway... today was National Start! Walking Day. No, I don't know why there is an exclamation point in the middle of the phrase. I didn't write it. But I celebrated by cycling 4 miles more than usual.

Anyone else celebrating?

Dona Nobis Pacem

So it struck me the other day that I don't hear many prayers for peace.

It's not like I was around for them, of course, but what I hear and read from all the wars of the 20th century is that God's people were continually praying for peace. But upon reflection, all the prayers for peace that I've heard in the last few years were from old people. In other words, people who have been there and done that before.

For this war, though, I've heard lots of praying for our soldiers, lots of praying for our leaders (both good ideas, mind you!), but not much just for peace.

So now I'm praying for peace. I only wish it had occurred to me a few years sooner. Feel free to join in.

And for your viewing enjoyment, the cast of M*A*S*H does just that:

Both kinds of eco-

I am trying desperately to write shorter posts, because I have been assured by many that no one likes to read long blog posts. Apparently the fact that I enjoy typing long posts is irrelevant.

So, in what I hope is the first of many attempts to be both economically and ecologically friendly, I've decided to stop buying paper towels. We have plenty of old shirts that are no longer suited for wearing or giving away. So, they have all been relegated to the "rag bag" (although it's not a bag) to be used for all our cleaning needs.

Right now I'm trying to see if it is possible in my own life to live within a low budget while being a good steward of the planet, all while owning as little stuff as possible. I'll keep you posted.

How did Paul know the man was from Macedonia?

I think he was wearing the Macedonia soccer jersey, myself. Which also helps clarify another point our Bible class teacher wondered about: We never see the man again in Acts 16 because he was at an away match.

Applying to University is Super-fun!

If your ideas of "fun" include mind-numbing boredom, multiple attempts to remember long-forgotten things, and poking one's own eyes out with a blunt stick. All in the name of education.

I Love Michael J. Fox

And I have done, ever since I was a toddler and he was a 20-something teenager on Family Ties. It was a sad day for me when I was about 9 or something and heard that he was not only happily married, but also much too old for me.

Anyway, so I'm watching him on Letterman. And it makes me sad that Parkinson disease is wreaking such havoc on him. However, I do appreciate his willingness to use his own position to help those likewise afflicted who don't have a household name.

And I'm running along to my local library with all due haste to check out Always Looking Up.

Unfooled!

I managed to get through the whole of April Fool's Day with only one joke being attempted on me-- and fortunately, I caught on before I started tearing out my hair. (The joke involved a road trip with a bunch of 4th-6th grade students. Yikes!)

I didn't bother trying to hand any out, though... I must have run out of creativity. I passed along one of my brother's favourites-- Vaseline on the doorknobs-- to a coworker, who intended to try it on her children.

My brother always thought April 1 was the day he could do whatever he wanted to the rest of the family and get away with it. Silly brother-- he could do that any day of the year. :)

Did I say Super?

Make that Uber-comfortable. These are the Best. Shoes. Ever.

Mizuno, you can make them puke-green with booger-coloured accents for all I care, just keep up the good work.