Sweet Sixteen!!

Look who got married 16 years ago today....

It is Matt & I in case you couldn't tell...I realize the blonder hair, fewer chins, whiter teeth, bronzed skin, and several pounds ago might fool you! ;) I guess that's what 5 children, 5 jobs a piece, 4 places of residence, 8 vehicles, 1 Bachelor's degree, about 20 church callings, 60 trips, 1,825 sleepless nights, and 0 pets will do to you! :)
Here we are on our 1st Anniversary. We went to the Pinecrest Bed & Breakfast Inn that year. I was already pregnant with Ryan. We've gone many places for our anniversary over the years; hotel or B & B stays in Salt Lake City, Ogden, Cache Valley, Heber City, & Park City. We've also gone on anniversary trips anywhere from Lake Powell to Las Vegas, from San Diego to New York City. On years that I've had a nursing baby, and we couldn't swing an overnighter, we went out to a nice restaurant for dinner. THIS YEAR, we're going out to dinner also, BUT my baby is 2 - and she's NOT nursing! What is wrong with this picture? It's called Fall Sports and School. Matt has to coach our daughter's soccer game tonight and has team pictures, the kids (& our "nanny" - my 18 yr. old niece) have school tomorrow and then Kyle has to be at his football game at 10:45AM Saturday morning, so that ruins staying over somewhere if we'd have to get up at the crack of dawn to come home! Matt even won a getaway to a hotel in Midway, but we'll have to wait to use it, I guess! :(

Matt & I met while attending Utah State University in a Japanese class Fall Quarter. (That dates us - we used to have quarters, not semesters in College!) We were both Returned Missionaries from Japan (Just so you know - DIFFERENT mission, DIFFERENT time - people always ask!) and were taking an upper level class that was full of RM's from Japan - ALL boys except for me! :) Even though Matt had been home from his mission for OVER A YEAR, he did not take this class until '93 when I got home and I also enrolled. You see destiny working here? hahaha. He had to meet me! :)

Let me backtrack a little. That year was my Senior year in College, so I was starting to think about REAL jobs post-graduation. I was visiting the Career Center on Campus on a regular basis checking out the job opportunities and met a Career Counselor who got to know me and she started to keep her eye out for possible jobs for me. She gave me a lot of different references in my field - and they were all over the United States and even some International ones. It was exciting to think of all the different possibilities in the work force and places to live. I was free to go wherever, after all, since I was single and had no obligations anywhere. Out living on my own, earning an REAL income - one could daydream about that for hours! ;)

But, I DID want to marry one day, too. So, then I began to worry about if I would be able to meet anyone if I just took off any ol' place to work. To be specific, I needed to marry a good, LDS man and, realistically, the further away from "home" I went, the fewer LDS prospects there would be. I definitely felt less confident about being able to meet someone if I started a career out of state. But, I didn't have any prospects at that moment, either, so I didn't want to jip myself out of an awesome experience just because "something might happen." I thought it would be stupid to wait around for Mr. Right, too, who may or may not come! So, I was troubled over the subject. I went back & forth with my thinking...Should I stay or should I go now?


I did some major analyzing of my life goals and priorities. And then one day I prayed real sincerely, "Heavenly Father, I AM READY. I am now ready to meet my future husband. And after that I will make some career decisions. It is in your hands. Please show me the way."

And then I went on with my regular College Life. And you know what? I started to run into that Centerville boy in my Japanese class everywhere. Like EVERYWHERE! I'd never known or seen him before and now he was popping up all over the place! I'd be walking down the crowded corridor of the Student Center and I'd hear this, "Hey!" and I'd look and there was THAT ONE BOY smiling at me. I'd be in the Institute building and I'd feel a tap on my shoulder and I'd turn around to see HIM. I started to notice other students who were wearing a USU Soccer team shirt, and I'd think to myself, "Hey, that's the same shirt that one boy wears a lot." I saw HIM walking across "The Quad" on campus. I saw HIM studying in the Library. I was sitting in the Logan Tabernacle waiting for Stake Conference to start and I looked up into the balcony, and there HE was again! So, then, with so much exposure, one naturally starts to have THAT BOY on one's mind, "I wonder why I see him so much?" "Is he following me?" "What was his name, again?" "Too bad he's a 'Viewmont boy' though." "I give him 'bonus points' for going to S.C. on his own!" "I wonder what he's like?" "I better find out!!" "Is this Heavenly Father showing me just like I asked?" "Yes, I believe it is!"

And so I started to sit by him in Japanese class - EVERY day (it was 5 days/wk.) And we started to talk in class ("We" being used very loosely here! More like I talked, he nodded, and gave 1-3 word answers.) We did our assignments side by side. Then we started to talk after class - and walk to our next class together. On days we didn't have another class following Japanese, we'd talk out on the sidewalk, or go to the devotional over at the Institute, or get one of those yummy, big hunks of cinnamon bread at the Aggie bakery. But, he always had to "excuse himself" at lunch time, since that boy can NOT miss a meal! "I'd love to keep talking to you, but I'm hungry!" And NO gorgeous USU co-ed could stop him from eating! ;) hahaha. Eventually, we got to the point where we had lunch together sometimes - at my apartment. I lived closer to campus than he did and when his starvation started taking over his ability to think straight, he'd blurt out, "You got anything to eat at your place?" But, still no "official" dates.

Then there was that one time when my old roommate and I were out walking (for exercise) and we just happened to get super thirsty when we were right by his apartment, so, naturally, we stopped for a drink! :) He was very curious as to how I knew where he lived! I have my ways! Innovative & resourceful, I am!!

I may have also had my cousin call him one Sunday evening (my resourcefulness comes in handy at finding phone numbers, too!) since I was just curious as to what he was up to and how he'd spent his weekend. She never identified who she was, just started shootin' the breeze with him - and then after several minutes, I think it'd been too long for him to feel comfortable asking, "BTW, Who is this?" But, at least I found out he'd had a dateless weekend - YES! The next day in class though, he tells me, "I got the weirdest phone call last night...it was this girl...and we talked for a while...I have NO IDEA who it was!" And I was like, "REALLY? Yeah...that IS weird!" :)

I finally decided I'd "force" him to take me on a date. We made a little wager on a Japanese test. The deal was whoever got the higher score, took the other one out to dinner. Of course, there was NO WAY I was going to get a less-than-perfect score on this test! I studied and studied and studied. I knew the kanji forward and backwards. Test day came, I knew every answer - and I felt good about my performance. I could smell our first date!! And then we got our tests back the next day. I got 100! Yes! He asks what I got. I ask him what he got. He tells me to go first. I tell him to show me his. He does. He got a flippin' 105! He did some sort of extra credit something or other. You've got to be kidding me! With a smirk on his face, he asks where I'm taking him to dinner. I was miffed. I demanded a recount! :) He laughed and told me he'd "release" me from our deal - since I did get a perfect score, I didn't have to take him to dinner. But....wh...wha...what...what about our date?

We went about spending quite a bit of time together, but never "dating." One of the Elders from my mission happened to live right next door to me and he was my good friend, too. One day I asked him for "boy advise." He knew about Matt & my situation, and he assured me that if I wanted it to go any further, that I would have to tell Matt that I liked him - and wanted to date him. My friend said that guys don't always know these things. He was sure that Matt probably thought that he was just another one of my friends since I was very social & friendly to a lot of people and I hung out and talked to guys all the time. He promised me that it would turn out well - that any guy would be flattered to have me say that to him. (See - he was a good friend!) In his opinion, THAT is what is was going to take.

So, equipped with the confidence my guy friend had given me, I started up a I-like-you-and-want-to-date-you conversation with Matt one evening when he was at my apartment. I was totally prepared for his Oh!-I-like-you-too-how-about-a-date-tomorrow-night response that my friend had led me to believe would happen.


Not so.


Instead, he paused for WAY TOO LONG. (I know now that he ALWAYS pauses after questions because he's thinking, but back then I didn't know this!) Then he hemmed and hawed for a minute before he started to talk in real words.
Oh no.
I was so wanting to recall my previous confession statement.
He finally started by saying, "Well, let me tell you about my situation..."
And then he proceeded to tell me about no fewer than 10 girls who were from his past and he still had a "thing" for, who were in his "hopeful dating pool," who he'd gotten "rain checks" from, who were due to come home from her mission in the next 6 months, etc. etc.
I. WAS. MORTIFIED.
Can you say humiliating? Can you say ZERO social etiquette? (He now admits this and cringes at the memory!) I had NOT expected THAT! Can I please push rewind? What happened to what my guy friend had told me?

Feeling as stupid as can be, I used every last bit of pride, raised my head up, looked him in the eye and declared, "You GO AHEAD and date all those other girls, BUT LET ME TELL YOU ONE THING; once you start dating me, YOU WON'T WANT TO date ANYONE else!"
And he replied with a "Hhmmm...OK."


And you know what? From that day forward he never did date anyone else but me!

And 10 months later we were walking hand in hand out of the Logan Temple following our marriage ceremony....

I said it that day back on 9~9~94 and I still agree, "It was the Happiest Day of my Life!"

And you know what's so ironic about that statement? A ton of things went totally wrong! I could NOT find my only set of car keys for the longest time to drive up to Logan to get married (they were in my brother's pants pocket - WHY? I don't know.) I had a sleepless night the night before. My dad got a speeding ticket on the way up (the I'm-on-my-way-to-my-daughter's-wedding excuse didn't work!) They were having a super, crazy busy wedding day that day in the temple and there weren't any attendants to help me. After the ceremony, we couldn't find my dad - come to find out, he was sick and laying down in the car and throwing up. The wind was blowing so hard - my veil is either coming off or standing straight up in some pics. We left the temple without our marriage certificate and had to go back for it. My brother who was speaking at our Wedding Breakfast had to make a detour and was late. When I got to my parents' house for the reception (it was in their yard) NO ONE was there and NOTHING was set up! This was back in the day before cell phones, so we could only wonder.... Matt & I started to set up and move all this stuff and got all sweaty - and then my photographer showed up and I was in my shorts and a T-shirt and all disheveled. I did a quick change and didn't feel sufficiently "ready" at all! - NOT what a bride wants on her Wedding Day, GOODBYE to any dreams of looking like a princess that one day in your life! And then I went out to get my pictures taken in that state. My family did finally come home - their car had broken down on the way home from Logan and they'd been in the shop all afternoon! The bakery failed to deliver the cake and when we called, they didn't have a driver, so my mom's friend had to go pick it up and balance it in the car. The wedding decoraters were a "no show" and had to be called, too - they were "running behind" from another event. My dad, still sick, about dropped the T.V. when he stumbled down our stairs while carrying it outside to show our wedding video. We were missing family members for the family pictures. The guests started to come and we were still being photographed, etc. etc. (Remember how I've always said Murphy's Law rules my life?!?)

It is amazing to me that even with all the "disasters" I was happy! Really, really happy. It was like magic! I wish I could be more like that all the time!


So, back to TODAY...

Happy Anniversary, Matt! Kokoro kara ai shiteru!!!

It's Spelled Just Like it Sounds

My maiden name has always been a hard one for people to get. It is Fowers. (I can already hear all the questions. How do you say that? What is it again?) We finally came up with the helpful cue, "Flowers without the 'L'" to help all the confused people out there. Sometimes it worked, but it still got botched plenty.

I remember thinking when I was growing up, When I get married, I won't have this problem anymore. I can get a different last name that people will finally get! No more misspellings or mispronounciations.

Fast Forward to 1994 when I chose to marry Matt Brenchley and took upon his name.

So much for my "last name woes" coming to an end when I got married. Wasn't I kidding myself with those thoughts in my youth! :)

The joke's on me!

The most common mistake people make is leaving out the "e" and ending it with just "ly" (Brenchly). (My own mother included here!)
A close second has to be leaving out the "r" (Benchley).

I can't ever just say the name and have others understand - on the first attempt. I can't even just give them assistance on the first letter....It's come to this:
B as in Bravo
R as in Romeo
E as in Echo
N as in November
C as in Charlie
H as in Hotel
L as in Lima
E as in Echo, again
Y as in Yankee
(You can tell I work in the airline industry and sound off in "Pilot talk.")

After receiving so many different pieces of mail and seeing our name printed on programs, newspapers, rolls, schedules, reservation lists, etc., we've seen a lot of interesting interpretaions of the last name.

Things like:

Brenckley
Brinkley - I'm sure this stems from my uncanny resemblance to the supermodel, Christie Brinkley. hahahaha
Brendily
Brinchly
Bremghley
Benchly
Drenchley
Ditchly - good thing they don't get the "B" correct on this spelling!
Breckley
Breechley
Benchie
Brenchlee
Binchley
Brenchy
Birchley
Bentley - although the males in my family wouldn't mind having one of these vehicles! (Or being the heir of the CEO.)
Brembhley
Branchly
Brenchlew
Brenchaui

I just always have to shake my head and say, "REALLY? Is it THAT hard?"

Apparently so.

(You should've seen what happened when I did the SPELL CHECK on this post!! I think I might have crashed Blogger.)

Comfort Food

I decided the least I could do to help with the kids' dread of going back to school (Yes! Woo Hoo! Hallelujia! Doin' back flips!) is to make their favorite meals for dinner the first week of school. Usually, I make my own menu, independently of their opinion, since their finicky ways wouldn't provide us with enough variety and I refuse to eat the same thing every single week.
But, to help ease their sorrows of the "No more homework, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks" vacation coming to an end, this week, I catered to their taste buds - and filled their mouths & stomachs to their heart's content.
I thought I'd share their numero uno dishes.
(Disclaimer: I did not invent or write any of these recipes on my own. Tweak, I may do, but make up, I did not. They all come from cookbooks, others, T.V., blogs, etc.)

Ryan's: Mongolian Beef
2 1/2 lb. Cross Rib Roast (or any kind of roast)
1/2 cup Soy Sauce
1 tsp. minced Garlic
2 Tbsp. Hoisin Sauce
2 Tbsp. Sesame Oil
1 Tbsp. Sugar

Cut roast into large bite size strips. Mix remaining ingredients well and marinate roast in it over night. Grill or broil approximately 8 minutes on each side. (I use my George Foreman grill.) Serve over rice.


Kyle's: Sesame Chicken
4 boneless, skinless Chicken Breasts
1/2 cup Cornstarch
canola oil
2 cup Water
3/8 cup Sugar
3 Tbsp. Soy Sauce
3 Tbsp Oyster Sauce
3/4 tsp. Garlic Powder
3 Tbsp. Cornstarch
1 1/2 cup Broccoli, cut in small pieces
Sesame Seeds

Cut chicken in 1 inch cubes, put 1/2 c. cornstarch in plastic bag and toss chicken to coat. Add canola oil to skillet to cover bottom and fry chicken until med.-brown. Prepare sauce by mixing: water, sugar, soy sauce, oyster sauce, garlic powder, and cornstarch in separate pan, stir over med. heat until thickened. Pour over chicken and simmer 3 minutes. Add broccoli and steam until desired tenderness. Stir in sesame seeds and serve over rice.

Can you tell that our children have been born of two returned missionaries from Japan and, as such, raised on rice? This & that over rice. Such & such over rice. You-name-it over rice. :)


Haylee's: Hearthstone Inn French Toast and Kristen's Famous Syrup
See this recipe on her blog here. (I don't want to copy)
I'm serious, you won't want to miss out on this, but I can't take any of the credit for it! ;)
Haylee has an "all carb" diet, so this is just perfect for her! :)


Katelyn's: She insisted that she wanted Orange Chicken (another something over rice!) from Costco. But, I kept trying to ask her what her favorite meal that I COOK was since THAT comes from a box in the freezer section. She didn't get it - she told me that I could cook Costco Orange Chicken.
Finally, she said she wanted Chicken Noodle Soup without any green stuff (i.e. broccoli) in it.
Chicken Noodle Soup
6 cups Water
3 Chicken Breasts
1 Tbsp. Chicken Bouillon or Base
2 Cups chopped carrots
2 Cups Chopped Celery
1 can Cream of Chicken Soup
2 1/3 cups Chicken Broth
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
3 cups Country Pasta brand homemade style egg pasta

Bring water to a boil in large pot. Add chicken, bouillon or base and stir until dissolved. Cover and cook for 20 to 30 minutes until chicken is no longer pink in center. Remove chicken and cut in small piedes. Return to broth and add carrots, celery and onion. Cover and cook until tender. Meanwhile, cook pasta in separate pot according to package directions (this pasta takes 20-30 min.) Mix cream of chicken soup, chicken broth, and spices together and slowly stir into original broth mixture. Add noodes. Cook until heated through.


So, there you have it - their favorites - at least for this year. They might have changed their minds by the first week of school next year, but I'll help comfort them with whatever it is when the time comes.

Some of them have already asked if we can have these meals again this week!

Nope.

Now, I'll return to my own cooking agenda! :)

Desperate Measures - Part 2

Last week I was in Orlando in connection with my husband's business Conference. As part of these conferences, they always put on a big party the last night. There is an "open bar," so you get the picture of what kind of "party" I'm talking about! ;) The conference attendees get in to this party as part of the conference, but for me, a Guest Pass is required. To the tune of a $100 add-on price. (So, pretty much we're paying for the all-you-can-drink alcohol that everyone else is consuming.) Since I don't drink, it works out to be quite an expensive roll, salad, rice, and pork shish kabob I consumed.

Incidentally, to get water, we still had to go up to the bar. (And you can imagine the wait considering the free booze.) You should see the LOOK [of shock] on the bartender's face when we asked for that water bottle. That's it? Would you like anything else? he questioned dumbfounded. Nope, just water. Thanks! And we walked away and left the bartender attempting to shake himself back to consciousness.

But, there were other activities to enjoy and pass one's time. Like tattoos, face painting, and hair braiding/beading. I suggested that I get the "princess" face mask and Matt could get the pirate - and then we could just see where the evening went from there... (wink, wink)

But, he politely declined. (shocker!)

He gets his own kind of "wild hair" when we go on these Get Aways - he grows a goatee.

So, I had to settle for the hair braids:


So, while I was here getting my hair done in Orlando, back at home we were getting multiple calls [that we were obviously missing] from the Stake Executive Secretary. He left the message that the Stake President wanted to meet with the both of us and to call him ASAP.

Now, when you get that kind of call, naturally, one starts to speculate WHAT the reason for the meeting could be about. You know what I thought of first? Remember the dicey email episode from last month? I thought, The news has finally traveled clear to the Stake and they're gonna "fire" him!


Other ideas we had were along the lines of being asked to speak in our upcoming Stake Conference, releasing - or getting a feel for whether or not to release - Matt from his Elder's Quorom President calling, or getting a new calling - amongst some other wild, unlikely ones we came up with.

But, while considering the most probable reasons, I also thought about our time restrictions. We got home about 10:30p.m. Saturday night - very tired - and we were to meet with the Stake President at 8:30a.m. Sunday morning. I presented the argument to Matt that we wouldn't have time to take out the braids and to shave so we should just go to the appointment AS IS. :) I, personally, thought it might help to sure up a few things, too. Like NOT being asked to speak in Stake Conference. Like NOT being extended a new [Stake] calling. Like sealing the deal on deciding to release Matt. ;)

In the end, Matt did get released during that morning meeting with our Stake President. There's no new calling and we're not speaking in Stake Conference, either! Now, don't I have brilliant ideas?!? :)

Can you guess what we did about the beaded braids and the goatee situation? ;)



*****

In reality, I (we) may joke about getting released - or if we can "manipulate" the release - from church callings, but the actual day was quite somber. I've always looked at other people who had a time-consuming calling for an extended period of time and felt a bit sorry for them. When they finally got released, I always thought, Oh, I bet they're so glad/relieved! I was very surprised at my own actual reaction - it was the opposite, sadness. And Matt felt it, too. I guess perhaps I was feeling it for him. We compared it to how we both felt when our full-time missions for the church ended. A sadness because he wanted to accomplish a little bit more, have some of his high hopes come to pass. A sadness because it's sort of a loss, in a way - a loss of "his flock," a loss of purpose, a loss of his "Labor of Love." A sadness that time passes by so quickly.....A sadness that now he has to be home on Sunday mornings helping me get The Brood ready in time for 9:00AM church! ;)

Just Loungin' Around on the Couch Eating Bon-Bons

My oldest son critiques reads my blog.
After scrutinizing viewing it just the other day, he says to me, "You haven't been making many blog posts this Summer, huh?!?"
"No, not many." I replied
"WHAT'S UP?" he questions me.
"Uhh...I've been a little busy!" I informed him.
(Snickers) "Doin' WHAT?!?" he wants to know in a voice laced with disgust.

You mean besides being pecked to death by a flock of chickens [i.e. YOU CHILDREN]?!?!?

Well, let me tell you, young man...and make you regret that you EVER had the audacity to entertain such a [ridiculous] question!! ;)

Well, there was this "incident"....

{ It would have to be a brand spankin' new container of Nesquick that was dropped on the floor!}

One mess after another describes a lot of what I did this Summer.

...Then there were the picnics that I planned, shopped for, packed, and made for you to enjoy!

...pulling out my little girl's front tooth.

...Getting the dress-ups out, putting the dress-ups away. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Ever heard the version of the Snow White Story where she has a sword? That's what happens when you have a boy/girl family! :)

...about went crazy over the neglect of breakfast/lunch/snack dishes that were left around by "NOT ME." And the fact that the place mat is treated as an extension of the plate (food all over it) and required frequent laundering.
{This photo is an example of the random "surprises" you find when you download your pics!}


...Protecting/saving my offspring from possibly boiling to death in a Hot Pot on one side and drowning in a lake on the other.

...Buying junk (for the "Junk Box").

...Continually counting The Brood as to not lose anyone.

...Taking my 2nd boy to baseball practice, picking him up from practice, driving clear-the-heck to West Jordan to see his games, buying Gatorade to keep him from having a heat stroke, washing those brilliant-of-an-idea white baseball pants. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. And working extra to pay for that snazzy All-Star uniform.

...Arranging "Slumber Parties" and losing sleep while waiting for them to fall asleep.

...Risking my life by cutting in front of floats, running across the street in order to chase down Jr. High Parade bands to get a good picture of my boy! (the same one getting the lashing in this story)
{He didn't get the memo about wearing khaki shorts for the parade performance. Hmmm...shows how much he pays attention to things! :)}


...Performing Popsicle duty. (And incidental clean-up)

...Fetching a minimum of 2 whistles and/or other toys for the baby - to keep her happy and avoid any meltdowns of epic proportions.

So, yeah...I pretty much did nothing - just wasted the Summer away!

"Thanks, Mom. You're awesome!" my boy repentantly admits.

Now, I'll get back to blogging.

I Lived to Tell About It!

A.K.A. Bountiful Triathlon - Take 2
(For those of you who are sick of hearing about this, the title and the sub-title is the "Reader's Digest version" and you can stop reading now!)

A couple of weeks ago, my husband called me from work for a "planning session."
"Do we have anything going on August 14th?"
"WHAT? Are you serious?"
"I take it we DO?"
"Uhhh...it's my Triathlon!!"
"Ohhh....yeah...."
It's only the culminating event of the whole entire summer, but I guess when YOU'RE NOT the one doing all the training, it's easy to forget. (?) (?) (?)

Last year, when I posted about the Bountiful Tri(bi)athlon that I did, I got several comments from others saying that they would maybe do it with me next year. (Which is now this year.) Do you remember who you are? Are you curious WHO said they would? Go ahead, go check. ;) I was actually surprised to get so many such responses, since most peoples' response to my triathlon goal include the words "crazy" or "WHY?" or "mentally unstable" or something similar. Well, I DID end up personally inviting (emailing) ONE of those comment-ers from last year to do it with me this year -- and to my delight, she accepted! I'll call her "Jill." Because that really IS her name - REALLY! :) My whole motivation behind doing the WHOLE Tri (including the swimming part this time around) was because of the "BIG Birthday" that's coming up for me this year and I need to prove to myself that I'm not old. Jill, being 11 years my junior, has yet to know the definition of "old" so, was motivated by just pure friendship! OK, everyone together, tenderly say, "Aaahhh!"

Last year, I did it as a relay and only did two of the three events: running and biking. This year, I made a goal to do the whole thing - including swimming. GULP! (My own personal demon.) Last year, I also had an unfortunate "incident" with the bike which kind of soured the experience for me. This year, I wanted the whole thing to go smoothly. So, equipped with a new bike that Santa surprised me with, a new bike helmet my son, Ryan, got me for Mother's Day, REAL Triathlon wear, a 25 lb. weight loss since then, and a whole year to "WANT IT" I had high hopes for a successful Tri.

So, this years' experience started the Tuesday before the Saturday Triathlon. That was the day I did my last 3-event workout, run-bike-swim, but I did it in "miniature" (not the full length/time of the actual event) before the Triathlon. And so I was blessed (?) with dreaming about doing those three events all night long - on Tuesday. And on Wednesday. And again on Thursday.

But, on Friday night, I decided to do something about it! I decided to medicate myself the night before the race, to get a good night's sleep. Well......

TWO ADVIL PM HAD NO POWER OVER ME!

Sleep I did not! And when I did, I had dreams that all ended in disaster! As I mentioned in my "100th Post" (#11) that common can't-get-something-accomplished-dream popped up again!

This time, I was trying to get to the Triathlon, but for some reason, I was downtown in the middle of a big city festival/parade of sorts. I'm not even sure if it was in my state/area. It seemed like a much bigger city. And, of course, every route I tried to take, I was getting blocked by all the crowds. There just wasn't a way around all the people in the Festival - and time was ticking away, and the Triathlon start time was quickly approaching.

Another dream I remember was that I was sitting at home about 4:00 on Sunday afternoon. All of a sudden, I look at the clock, and panic as I'm overcome with realization. "Did I miss the Triathlon?" I desperately ask Matt in the dream. I could tell by the look on his face that he KNEW, but he didn't want to break it to me. He gave me an all-knowing nod of his head to confirm the ugly truth. In the dream, I was so mad! All that training for nothing!

But, that pre-event night of torture finally ended and I made it to the actual venue - early!

...And got the "Marks of a Triathlete."

One leg shows my age and the other my race number. (You BETTER get which number is which, RIGHT!) Some people might not want to "advertise" their age, but I gotta hang on to this number as long as possible! :) It is kind of fun and interesting to look at all the other racers' ages - the youngest I saw: 11 (boy & girl). The oldest: 76 (man).

One other thing that was nerve racking was that Jill & I had thought that it was a 3 mile run, a 10 or 11 mile bike, and a 350m swim. When we picked up our race packet, we found out it was officially a 3.35 mile run and a 11.35 mile bike, and (thankfully) we were correct about the swim! You may not think that .35 is a big deal at all - BUT IT IS! (Psychologically more than physically perhaps, and this is a BIG psychological game!)

...We racked our bikes and set up our "transition station."

...And pinned on our race numbers and SMILED while we still could! ;)

(Jill's dad, Dan, ended up making practically a "race-day decision" and came down from Idaho to do it with her - awesome! - even though he doesn't swim (everyones' [including mine] favorite excuse) - double awesome!)

...They did the countdown, and the race started.

...we were off running.

It was a beautiful day for a run - just about 2 hours LATE! It started at 8:30a.m. which makes it too hot for comfort, IMO. Sunny skies past 7 or 8 in the morning is like kryptonite for this runner! My favorite sight (besides seeing my family at their "secret spot" right here on Main St. AND seeing the finish line) was seeing a parked car on the side of the route. It's back window was painted with the quote for us,

"If you CAN BELIEVE, you CAN ACHIEVE!"

Transition 1: Pour water over the top of your head (and down your back as a side effect) since I'm not coordinated enough to drink & run at the same time. Next thing: Grab your bike helmet and put it on.

The "professionals" also have to take off their running shoes and put on their biking shoes at this point. But, I'm NOT a professional, so for me,

Running shoes = Biking shoes. SIMPLE MATH! :)

Then you have to walk/run your bike to the designated "mounting spot" and your T1 time ends and your bike time begins.

Many people have asked me what kind of a new bike I got. To which I always answered, "Pink." Isn't she cute? ;)

Even though I was more confident because I felt my new bike would take care of the problems I had last year, I had not anticipated the feelings that getting on the bike in the Tri would bring back to me! As I rode away on my bike, the unwelcomed, haunting experience of last year came into my mind.

Then when I came upon that actual fateful corner in the route that the "incident" occurred last year, I had a flashback of the whole thing. But, I rode on through without anything happening. Phew!

A little further down the road, I did see a woman from the tri, crouched down on the side changing out her tire tube. I seriously wanted to cry for her! It was HER having the "incident" this year - and I could relate. (Come to think of it, she was probably one of those who passed me on the bike later on in the race, so I didn't need to be feeling sorry for her, after all. :)) But, witnessing that left me feeling uneasy about the stability of my own biking luck.

Later, the route takes us passed a bike store named, "Saturday Cycles" (since they're only open on Saturdays) - they are the ones who actually assembled my new bike. Two of it's workers were out front watching our race. As I biked by, I had the thought, "If anything bad is going to happen [with me and my bike], this would be a good place for it to happen!" But, nothing did, and as I got further away from the security of Saturday Cycles, I prayed I wouldn't need their help anyway!

At one point in the bike portion, I was just thinking about how WELL it was going (i.e. no disasters, not referring to my speed, I was getting passed by quite a few bikers) and I felt so grateful. I also thought about how I WAS DOING THE WHOLE TRI, and I got choked up, and I think if I hadn't already sweated out all my moisture, tears WOULD'VE dropped. Who says Triathlons are all a test of physical skill? So, I just kept pedaling for the unannounced 11.35 miles and finished that part of it - WITHOUT "incident."

BUT, as I turned onto 200 West, the last stretch of road before returning to the transition station for the final event (swimming), I felt like I was going to THROW UP! Seriously. It was like the reality of what was next hit me. And THAT scared me to death!

...and that's not an understatement...as you can see by the look on my face as I was "in transition" (T2) from racking my bike, declothing (well, just my shoes, socks, & shirt), putting on my swim cap & goggles, and running into the pool (just beyond this photo frame.)

Could I just veer off to my right about now, exit the race, and run over to Matt instead of to the pool?

No, instead of quitting, let's just get this over with!

And so I just jumped right in the pool...and went down, down, down - expecting to push off the bottom at any time! I never hit the bottom. I, somehow, did not know that this pool was going to be DEEP! And I hate being in deep water! I kicked like mad to get back to the top. Frazzled by that unknown. I started to "swim" and thought, This water sure is murky! And then I realized I had jumped in before pulling my goggles down on my eyes - they were still on my head! So, I swam to the side of the pool, held onto the edge (because I was NOT going to tread deep water!), put on my goggles, and then started to swim again.

I had been warned ahead of time by my sister about the swimming conditions in a Triathlon. Which is this: there are so many swimmers in the same limited lane space that you are kicked and hit by everyone else's legs and arms. She told me that others may swim over the top of me and that I could be "dunked" as their moving arms pushed me down under the water. THAT was my biggest fear, being the frightened, afraid-of-drowning, non-swimmer that I am! Even though I was prepared for this, unfortunately, it happened just like she said it would!

But, what I was not prepared for was this:

I was NOT prepared for how "HARD" actually felt.

I knew it would be hard. After all, my mantra is "I Can Do Hard Things." But, after running and biking the full distance (and faster than usual) I was not prepared for how hard, physically, it would be to swim. My legs had no strength! And that slightly interferes with the kicking part of swimming! It was A LOT easier/smoother during training in my semi-private lane at my hometown pool. And that throws off your psyche!

...but, I knew swimming each lane brought me one lane closer to the finish, so that's what I did.
Look! That's me in the closest lane, black cap & suit, with my face IN THE WATER!
YOU, my friends, are witnessing a miracle!
(Because up until this Summer, I did not do that.)

In fact, I believe I may be the ONLY person with my face IN THE WATER in this picture frame. So, swim...swim....swim...225m in the first pool.

Can I just say how hard it was to pull myself out of that first pool? Just look for yourselves! I struggled to get out, (Legs still not working) then walked over to the neighboring pool to swim the last 125m.

THE SWIM IS OVER!
And I survived.
This is what "SPENT" looks like.
(Physically, psychologically, & emotionally)

But, while in this "dying position," I heard Jill yelling, "You're not done yet. Hurry! Get up! Get up and go cross the Finish Line!" (It was another 10 yards away down the pool deck.)
And so I obeyed her and did. Finish time: 1:41.
And then I leaned against the wall - for a long time - and breathed in-and-out, in-and-out. I HAD DONE IT! And then a volunteer made a special delivery of a garbage can over to me - apparently, he thought it looked like I was going to puke!

...A Happy Time - we're done!

(I had a better photo to post, but Jill banned it from the blog world - we were still in our swimming attire! :))

Mine & Jill's kids (seen in the background) ate our share of the post-race refreshments - it was OK since I was kind of repulsed by the thought of food!

Here's a shot afterwards of me and my trusty bike.

MY MAGIC BIKE!

*kiss, kiss*

Thank you for seeing me through!

THE END.

*****

But, it's not really the end. There's something else on my mind, and quite honestly, I don't really feel like sharing it for fear it will be judged in a way I don't intend. I had set a goal to complete a whole Triathlon. I faced my 30+ year old fear of swimming. I trained all summer and was fortunate enough to have Jill train with me about 3X/week. I even cut 6 minutes off my run time year over year. I cut 5:15 off my bike time year over year, and I (not a relay team member) I swam it myself. And I didn't drown. Jill, Dan & I all shared a group hug on the pool deck when we'd all finished. Short of holding hands in a circle with all the participants and singing Cumbayah, it was a great, successful first Triathlon for me.

And then I came home.

Feeling good.

Me talking about it and reliving it.

The family all sharing details they could remember.

Matt telling me "it was so inspiring." Confessing he choked up a couple of times watching me swim.

The High.

Fading.

ZZzzzz....

So why is there something nagging, some portion of dissatisfaction that hangs around in my head? I can't shake the feeling that it wasn't really good enough, which is confusing since I accomplished my goal. What is my problem? Am I just high-maintenance? Ungrateful? Spoiled? Impracticle? Pessimistic? Perfectionist?

It's like after the fact, I changed my goal. And now I'm measuring myself against the new "standard." For Example, when I looked at my bike time closer, I realized that last year's bike time included all the time it took to fix my bike problem, so when you take that into consideration, maybe I didn't really bike faster this year - maybe even slower. Why can't I recognize that I did it non-stop this time - and the distance was further - which should count for something? Also, now, I'm wishing I could've completed the Tri without it feeling hard. I'm disappointed that even though I followed the training program (the hard part), I wasn't prepared for how HARD the event (which is suppose to be the "pay off" fun part) would feel. Even the other participants I talked to afterwards (including the 1st Place Overall Female, my cousin's wife) ALSO said that swimmming at the end of a Tri is difficult and they struggled and had to adjust, too. But, somehow, I won't let myself have that "excuse." It's like I want the swim to feel like it felt when I was training. Logically, I can say that, of course, a swim workout done alone (without other events) is going to be MUCH easier than when done on the tail end of a Triathlon, but I just must be illogical. How does a girl who accomplished what she set out to do still find a way to be anything but ecstatic?

I told you. I should've just ended the post with a shot of my pink bike.

Some Sad News

This summer, I've taken turns with each of my children taking them out to lunch, just one on one. (Does this explain the weight gain?) Well, yesterday was Haylee's day, but she opted out of lunch and said she would rather go out to breakfast instead - at Doug & Emmy's.
Have you been there?
Do you know what I'm talking about?
Seems like practically everyone [in Utah] has an experience with going to Doug & Emmy's.

Well, we drove up to the restaurant yesterday morning, and much to my surprise, the parking lot was empty! THAT never happens! And then I saw it - all the windows and doors were boarded up!

What is going on? I thought.
There's NO WAY it could go out of business - the place is a classic and so popular. I reasoned.

I called my husband and told him to "google" Doug & Emmy's online and see if he could find out any info....And with the modern convenience of the Internet, he had an answer for me in 4.8 seconds! Apparently, they've relocated.

"Where?" I desperately asked Matt, hoping it was close by in the general vicinity.
"The town of Mayfield," he answered.
"Where the heck is Mayfield?" still trying to save my plans of going there and driving the distance if it was feasible.
With some more research on the Internet, he answered that question for me, too.
"Sanpete County" he relayed the news. The sad, sad news. Because THAT is just too far for this gal to drive - even for their scones. Too far for their cinnamon rolls. And unfortunately, too far for their S.O.S. hash browns.
"Do people in Mayfield even know about Doug & Emmy's? Will they even appreciate them [like all of us did]?" I complained.

Will they make it down there? I worried.
If they don't, will they come back? I fantasized.

And then the nostalgia and sadness started to hit.
My family has [had] a tradition of going there every Labor Day morning for breakfast.
Now what will we do?

My Sister-in-Law went there with her prom date & group to start their "day activity."
Now what will the High School kids do?

I took my son over for a "take out" scone following his gymnastic workout (the gym was located right across the street, but had to relocate, as well) on occasion.
Now what will the gymnasts do?

One of my girlfriends chose to go there for her birthday with us when our group of girlfriends took her out.
Now where will she choose to go?

My extended family has started out the day there for a couple of Family Reunions.
Now that's no longer an option.

And the thing that's so funny about this place being so well-liked -- is that it is a DIVE! In every sense of the word.
It's in an old train depot and the building itself is just run down and dilapidated. The wood floor is in serious need of refinishing/repair, sometimes you fear you might just fall through while walking on it one time. The seats are worn. The decor is lacking - and what decor there is, you can see dust and lines of cobwebs stretching from thing to thing. And have you ever been in the girls bathroom? There is a bright blue toilet! Nice! There's also cruddy linolium and a sink that was left to be desired. And you get to eat with the accompaniment of flies buzzing all around you (just guard your honey butter!)
And, there's no modern air conditioning.

This was never more obvious than one Labor Day morning when my family was eating there, our waitress (bless her heart) was hustling around here, there, and everywhere trying to serve everyone - FAST! She had beads of sweat all over her forehead. The next time we saw her, the sweat was just rolling down her cheeks, and about to drop off her eyebrow, and dripping down her neck and then disappearing somewhere into her cleavage. I wanted to give her a napkin so she could wipe herself down. I thought maybe she'd take care of it in the back room, out of the public eye - but she never did. When she brought out our food and reached her arm across to set each person's plate in front of them, she had sweat rings on her shirt, too. Yep, they needed A.C. And every time we've gone there since, we talk about if we're going to get the "sweaty waitress!" :)

Great memories, eh?

And now it's all in the past. Boo, hoo.

Apparently, they moved at the end of 2009 - I'm just slow in getting the news. The sad, sad news.

So, what did Haylee & I do about our "lunch" date yesterday? We went to Doug & Emmy's "sister restaurant," (Or is it cousin? Aunt? Grandpa? College Buddy? I've heard there's a relation) Sill's Cafe. Incidentally, they relocated as well since a big freeway project in their area forced them to. Good News is they have the exact same menu. The entrees even have the same names. Same scones, cinnamon rolls, and S.O.S. hash browns.
But, Sill's Cafe's location is now kind of decent. Fresh paint and such. Kind of a bummer. I didn't go to the bathroom, so I can't speak for that. It's definitely not the same.

But, ya know, some flies snuck in there yesterday and were bothering me a bit....yeah, this "replacement" could grow on me! ;)

Random Question of the Week

How much weight would you guess a person would lose while training for a Triathlon all Summer?

Let me give you with the details...

RUN two times a week...

BIKE two times a week...

SWIM three to four times a week...
ALL Summer so far.

{That amounts to double or triple workouts on some days.}

So, what d'ya think? How much?

9 pounds?

13 pounds?

18 pounds?

Nope...those are all wrong!

Try a weight gain! (To the tune of 7.6 lbs.)

Aaaauugh!

WHAT THE ??????

It scares me to think what would've been had I NOT been training!

And what's gonna happen in 4 days in my "Life after Triathlon" when the training significantly lessens (or stops)?

Unconquerable

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced not cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley 1849-1906


These words have been heard repeatedly around our home the last few days. Kyle's football coach gave the team the assignment to memorize it by Monday. (Along with a "play book" to learn - that they will be tested on!) (The team motto is "Have Fun, Play Hard, Hit Hard, & Win") "Intense" would be an understatement, I think. ;)

At first, I thought the talk of bloody heads and bludgeonings (of which he can hardly pronounce) was a bit much for 10 yr. old boys, but it turns out the only words the kid even pays attention to are the last two lines: I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. I asked him if he even understood it. {No.} I told him it means that each person can take responsiblitiy for their own destiny. He didn't understand my answer either. (sigh)

But, the coach has aspirations to take this team all the way through the playoffs and to the Mini Bowl this year. (The same team who only won 2 games all season last year!)

What do you think? Will 26 boys and 6 coaches memorizing this, collectively, do the trick?

Spotting Wildlife

While in Yellowstone this past week (and traveling in the car with children, logging 900 miles) we saw a lot of WILDLIFE. The kids had a little "mark-off sheet" provided by the Forest Service to keep track of it all. Did I mention we were in a car full of children? (Ours and others)

They were undecided which one was the most incredible, scary, or powerful WILDLIFE.

When it comes to WILDLIFE, it can be hard to decide.

Which is the most strange?

The most barbarian?

The most unruly?

The most uncontrollable?

The most ferocious?

Oh, and another thing, we spent a lot of time in the car! ;0

The most riotous?

The most boisterous?

Or the most untamed?

And, lastly, don't let me forget to tell you how much we drove - 900 miles! ;)

It's still under debate, but I believe my "wildlife" brood took the contest -- HANDS DOWN!! :)