the proof is in the pics

Last weekend we went camping with two other fabulously fun families in our ward here. As we were pulling out of the campground, Mister said, "But Mom, we never got to play in the dirt." Oh, really? You don't say? Well, the proof is in the pics, my child.

1. my own bed

2. dutch oven dinners and breakfasts

3. friends to camp with, friends to laugh with

We don't believe in new pajamas.

Or so it would seem. Here is Mister, in watching the Laker/Celtics game with his dad, loyally wearing his Laker jammies. And, oh, here is Mister at 6 months old with the same Laker jammies on.

Needless to say, on a cost-per-wear basis, they have been worth whatever Grandpa Louie paid for them.

1. Baby pictures that make you go "awww."
2. Bedtime.
3. That piece of chocolate I stashed away in the fridge.

Tag, I'm it.

One of my running idols and intellectual idols, Shelah, tagged me a week ago (at least), with this running meme. I've been waiting for life to settle down from Primary Activity Day, Father's Day DVD editing (with my interviews of all of the Primary children), trips to the ASU library to read some of the books that they won't let me check out (grrr), and an extended weekend camping trip. Life still hasn't settled down (just took a break to make kids share the basketball), but I'm giving this a shot regardless:

1. How would you describe your running 10 years ago? Ten years ago I was done with running and was into aerobics at the Gold's Gym in Provo. I had run the Moab 5-miler with a group of great friends from the Riv (everyone but my roommate Hillary and I had ran the half-marathon). I could hardly move the last mile and had to stop and walk because my knee hurt so badly. It was a miserable experience, so I gave up running forever, I thought. But, you know what they say, necessity is the motherhood of most everything, including my return to running when we moved to Massachusetts and I was gym-less for the first time since my sophomore year of college.

2. What is your best and worst run/race experience? Worst: That Moab 5-miler. Best: Maybe the half marathon I ran with my friend MaryAnn last October--reaching one of my goals. Or maybe running at 5am at the Jerusalem Center for Near-Eastern Studies with my pal and roommate Elise. But probably the time MaryAnn and I ran around her neighborhood one Saturday morning. It was rainy so we didn't run our usual route. We stayed relatively close to her house in case it poured and we ran the same circle 5 times. We thought we were running 4 or 5 miles, but when we got in, we had been running for over an hour, so we drove it and realized we had run over 7 miles. At the time, I was running post-baby and thought I couldn't run more than 4 or 5 miles without dying. This run was mind-blowing and exhilarating for me to realize that I could do more than I thought I could. I realized with that run how much of running is mental. It sounds silly, but it was kind of a break-through that allowed me to have faith in my ability to run longer.

3. Why do you run? A few reasons. I'm not really competitive with my running. I have too much going on in my life right now. So I run first for companionship. I love the conversations I have with my running friend(s). I run second to balance out my love for chocolate. I run third because it is one thing I do in my life for me, not for my kids, not for my husband, not for the Primary. For me. And I run fourth because afterwards I usually feel for a while like I am on top of the world. I feel strong and capable and powerful. I love that feeling.

4. What is the best or worst piece of advice you've been given about running? Well, I'm no font of running wisdom. I guess the best is probably to hydrate the day before running and to take the time to stretch afterwards. I have a hard time with this because I'm so impatient and because I multi-task so much. But I have hip or knee problems when I don't.

5. Tell us something surprising about yourself that not many people would know. Hmmm, I don't know. I'm pretty boring. That and I don't know that I want to reveal my wildest moments to the general blogging public. Sorry. How about . . . I'm scared to death of needles. At the sight of one, I sweat profusely. One of my earliest memories is running from my dad when he brought home a hepititus vaccine after my little neighbor friend's mom came down with it. Another random tidbit for you is that, although I love to bake and cook, I can't make rice crispy treats to save my life. I'm lousy at it.

Runners I'm tagging:
Elise
MaryAnn
Christy

It's Like Riding a Bike

This past month, Mister learned to ride his bike without training wheels. As I watched him, sweat beading his forehead by the rim of his helmet, struggle again and again to balance the weight of his bike while getting enough of a push to get going (since he is too small to be able to sit fully upright on the seat and touch the ground at the same time), I decided that I don’t really like the phrase, “It’s like riding a bike.” The phrase is usually used to refer to something that’s easy to do or something that’s never forgotten. But to Mister, riding a bike is a huge accomplishment right now. There are few things that are really easy to do, never forgotten. In the beginning, of course, nothing is easy to do until we practice it enough. And by the time we reach the never-to-be-forgotten stage, we usually have forgotten the most important part—that the learning was difficult, full of effort. So, congratulations, Mister, on your hard work! I’m glad you recorded in your Sunday journal what “it’s like riding a bike” was for you this month: "This is me riding my bike. This week I learned how to ride my bike without training wheels. At first I was scared, but then I learned to be happy and to go fast."