Simple things... like running, french toast and imaginary friends

I just read a friends blog about the things that get him excited about life.  For me it doesn't take much really.  I can feel it in the air...Spring.  The time of year when everything is renewed and brought back to life.  When the air is fresh, the sun is warm and the breeze is still slightly chilled but energizing.  The bright green fresh blades of grass and the purple and yellow flowers.  Longer days and more time spent outside.
This spring, I am especially excited about my new pair of running shoes.  I got them at the first of the year but i am just now starting to venture out with them.  Running has become a new love of mine.  After you run long enough you realize that your body is really capable of so much that you never thought possible.  The pain and aches at the beginning are just your body warming up and getting going.  After a mile two, usually, you feel like you could run forever.

So all that randomness leads up to: MY PERFECT SATURDAY
Here is a perfect Saturday for me... (Which has not happened yet this year).  Wake up at 6:30 or 7:00, (I have laid out all my running stuff the night before), get dressed, eat a little something, take off for a run.  Run for 45 min or so.  Watch the sun come up, smell the fresh spring air, listen to my up beat Classical Music (Lucia Micarelli) and try not to think of anything else.
When i get home, (after have kissed my wife) I make breakfast (french toast probably... and maybe a huge perfectly ripe mango) while the kids tell me about silly dreams and about crazy friend adventures that never really happened (my 3 year old is super popular, apparently he has a ton of friends that my wife and i have never met).  Work in the garden for a while and then relax and maybe nap on the porch swing...  Then whatever happens the rest of the day will be just fine. 
I like spring A LOT!  Can't wait to get some miles behind me.

Running like a crazy person?!?!?!

Well, I'm not running yet, but I will be soon. This Summer i am going to continue the, now yearly tradition, of running through the mountains like a crazy person. For those of you who have never experienced the phenomenon of the Wasatch Back Ragnar Relay, let me enlighten you. The Ragnar is not just a race, it is an EXPERIENCE. The race takes teams on a route that is nearly 180 miles starting in Logan and ending in Park City. There is nothing like it. A regular team will have two vehicles and twelve runners. Each runner takes a set of three legs that may range from a total 12-18 miles. (legs are anywhere from 3 to 9 miles each) I think that the average time to run it takes about 24-30 hours. (16 or 17 hours for some of the cross country teams)

Last year I think that there were 650 teams that ran the race. 650 x12=7800 people running day and night through farming valleys, over mountain passes and past lakes and reservoirs. The non-stop flow of people running through the middle of nowhere is a sight to behold. One person from each team is always running. Last year my legs of the race went as follows. 7:00 pm - 3 1/2 miles, eat and rest a little until 3:30 am - 9 miles, eat and try to get a little more rest then 11:00 am 3 1/2 miles up the steepest hill ever. I was WORN OUT but felt amazing.

It is amazing to see the determination of beginners who are struggling to remember why they signed up in the first place and see the excitement in their faces as they finish each leg (sometimes more dead than alive). It is inspiring to see the seasoned runners fly past (me) and dissappear into the night. But most of all it is an awesome experience to see all of the teams cheering each other on and having your team yell and honk and cheer for you as they hand you water and make sure that you are ok.

The Ragnar is an awesome goal if you are needing some motivation to get back in shape, and a fun challenge if you are already an awesome runner. The Ragnar has something for everyone.

Currently some of my friends and I are trying to finish putting together a team by the end of January. If you are interested please let me know.

Yep... I'm a Narnian Nerd.

One of my favorite books is definitely

"The Chronicles of Narnia."

I know that it is kind of nerdy, but i just love the story, the world that was created, and how C.S. Lewis is so amazing with words that you can almost see and hear and smell everything that the characters are experiencing.

I just finished the final book... again. At the end of the book the Pevensies witness the end of the world they had come to love. As they find themselves in a new world, all of the characters from all of the history of Narnia are reunited. The place in which they find themselves is very similar to the Narnia that they knew, but somehow more real. More vibrant, more alive, like the Narnia they knew was just a shadow or a reflection of the real thing. As they travel Further Up and Further In to this new country, they discover that Narnia becomes even more real, more amazing and that their real adventures were just beginning. C. S. Lewis is a man of great faith and was very spiritually in tune. The ideas that he illustrates about eternity and life after our time here on earth are amazing to just sit and ponder.

At the end of the book, at the end of so many wonderful adventures, he leaves you with: "All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.

I also believe that this life is the beginning of much greater things to come. I think that most people have felt this way at some point in their life. Many times we have moments of excitement, glimpses of what it might be like after this life, dreams or visions of our real selves and our incredible potential. But then, just as quickly as they came upon us, those moments fade away like an amazing dream vanishes as we open our eyes in the morning.

How does one hold on to the "magic" of those moments. How does one get back into the wardrobe and find the land where everything is more real, more vibrant, more alive than everyday mundane life?... Create It! Fight for it! Search for it everywhere! Hold on to each precious glimpse! And even when you do find those "magic moments," remember that they are still just the cover and the title page of the Real Story and the amazing adventures that await each of us "Further Up and Further In."

My Destiny

This past semester I was required to give 20 hours of service for my english class. The class was all about understanding other points of view and avoiding prejudice in writing. The topic for my paper was: Prejudice in elementary school, (understanding students with disabilities). Since teaching is my chosen carreer, I figured that this service would get me some great experience in the classroom.

One of my friends got me connected with a few classes at her school that work with groups of students on different ability levels. The thing that I learned most from my observation and my research for my final paper, is that many students that are "behind" just need a little more attention and someone who is interested in their progress. Many of the children that were struggling in these groups were children that didn't get much attention at home and families that were not really interested in their childs' education. I want to be that person that gets students excited about learning. I learned so much and I am so excited to be a teacher.

While I was there I met my carreer twin. There is a male teacher there that is currently doing everything that I have pictured doing in my future classroom. He has implemented Spanish and helps his hispanic students feel more welcome. He uses Theater to help students really get into the books that they are reading. I think that he has an even balance of student centered and teacher centered teaching in his classroom. The students really look up to him and have fun learning in his class.

I feel that teaching is one of the most worthwhile things that I can do with my life. It is awesome to see students grasp a new concept and gain confidence in themselves. I can't wait until I can actually get into a real classroom.

I have just finished my first year of school and if all goes as planned I won't be able to start teaching until the fall... of 2012 dun, dun, dun!!! It is a long way off but I am super excited.

Snapshots

Something that I realized in high school is that each experience that we have in this life makes us who we are. It sounds pretty basic but think about it. Everything you do and everything that others do to you, makes you who you are. We are a composite of every moment in our past. How we treat others, how others treat us, the things we see, the things we experience. Life is a million little snapshots that make up the people we are today.
What power we have to make every day more amazing. If we make a conscious choice to take what we are given today and make it into something better tomorrow.
Pull out some of those old snapshots and remember what got you to where you are today.

"take off my WHAT?!?!?!?" Part Two

(If you haven't read part one "take off my WHAT?!?!?!?" Take just a few moments and read my previous post before you start this one. And get comfortable. )

Now that we were in the corner we were out of direct site of the crazed thiefs (who were trying to keep 40 people under control on a speeding bus). We took the opportunity to put our shoes and pants under the corner seat, because once this was all over, what are two missionaries going to do in their underwear in the middle of a foreign country, miles from their apartment.
As we sped down the freeway I sat peering through the glass that held me captive. I heard a few male passengers speak up to the thieves and get quickly put back in their place with a swift knock to the back of the head with the butt of a pistol. This was all about intimidation, but I could tell that some of them were just as nervous as the passengers. Scared passengers and scared crooks, not a good combination.
At this point the bus was pretty quiet. All the passengers sat crouched in their seats trying to avoid looking at the crooks. A couple younger women were quietly sobbing. My blood was pumping as I thought, "Maybe I could break the glass and jump out when they slow down." I was thinking a million things at once. "Will I ever see my family again? Will we go down in history as the missionaries that died on a bus that was burned in the middle of a field somewhere.




(OK so the picture is a little much, but this is really what went through my head)

By far this was the single most terrifying experience that had ever happened to me. I prayed harder than I ever had before. My life flashed before me about 20 times as I sat hunched on that back seat.
Before long the bus began to slow down as we exited the freeway. I peered out the window to see if I recognized any landmarks, but I saw nothing familiar. We were a ways out of Valencia. A good 15 minutes out of our area. Suddenly the bus stopped at an empty bus stop and with two huge full bags each, three of the thieves got off the bus like they had just been shopping and hurried down the street with their new "purchases." The bus pulled away... but it wasn't over yet. Two of the men were still on the bus and we were getting back on the freeway. Everyone on the bus had to be silenced again and reminded that they weren't finished.
I don't remember exactly what the "boss" said but it was something to the effect of; Please be patient with us, we have to do this to get by. My blood boiled as I thought of many of the passengers who had just lost a huge part of all they owned.
Suddenly the driver was told to pull to the side of the freeway and the two remaining men got off and jumped in a car that had been following us and we took off yet again. I had never heard such commotion. People screaming and crying, men yelling and the bus driver telling everyone to stay down because they were still following us. He soon pulled off of the freeway and the men continued on their merry way to count their spoils.
The driver quickly drove us to a police station and parked the bus. It was over!!!!
As we collected our pants and shoes that had amazingly remained hidden; we got dressed with what we had. I luckily found my shirt that had also fallen to the floor in the chaos, but my companion wasn't so lucky. A woman was crouched by the front door sobbing. Grown men were walking around in nothing but their underwear. People were yelling at the police who said that there was not much they could do but offer everyone a phone.
(Thanks for being patient with my story. This is where the awesomeness happens)
Everyone was a bit bewildered. One girl was going off about everything they had taken from her. Jewelry, her shirt, her shoes, pretty much everything. An old old farmer approached her and said, "Thanks to God that you are still alive."
She shot back "Thanks to God for NOTHING!!!," and stormed off.
The old man turned to us (two gringos who looked even more pale than normal) He asked us if we were alright and if we knew where we were. We told him that we had no idea where we were. He motioned for us to follow him and told us that he would show us how to get home. We walked up the street, leaving behind the confusion of the police station parking lot.
The sun had gone down maybe a half hour before and the sky was getting pretty dim. We walked up the strange streets with this kind stranger leading the way. When we reached Bolivar Avenue, we realized where we were. It would take two scared, fast walking missionaries nearly 45 minutes to walk home from where we were.
"Did they leave you with any money for another bus?" he asked. We told him that they hadn't. Then he did something amazing. He pulled out a wallet and this poor farmer gave us plenty of money for a bus back home. He explained that when the men stood up he had torn a hole in the seat in front of him and stashed his wallet inside.
After some very sincere thank yous from two very grateful gringos the old man walked down the street into the night.



Now I'm not saying that I think that he was an angel or anything, but that old man made two very scared 20 year old missionaries feel like God was very mindful of their prayers and the prayers of their mothers while they were very far from home.
We got on another bus, with quite a bit of reluctance, and were shortly back close to home. As we walked the final stretch to our apartment, my companion was silent and I couldn't stop talking. "We are alive to tell about it!!! How often does that happen to a person!!!" He didn't say much in return.
When we returned to our apartment I called President Blacker to report the robbery and played it off like it was nothing so that his wife wouldn't wouldn't get sick worrying about us. After I hung up, I sat down, realizing what had really just happened and what could have happened. We didn't say much to each other for the rest of the night...
Once again that night my bedtime prayers were the most sincere they had ever been. I had so much to be grateful for. He had taken care of us and we knew it.
The End.

P.S. I didn't tell my Mom about it until I was back home.

...Take off my WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?

I feel that life experiences make us who we are. Not only do they give us knowledge, they also give us perspective and insight. (This might be perspective that I could have done without.)

Time: Late Fall, around 7:00pm
Place: Crowded streets of Valencia, Venezuela
Who: Two Mormon Missionaries (including me)
What: "BUS RIDE OF TERROR"
Disclaimer: this is a little long, so if you don't want to read it, don't start (cause it gets awesome)!

After an uneventful preparation day, my companion and I head out of our apartment to catch a bus to our area. Making our way through the crowded sidewalks in rush hour foot traffic; we reach the Bolivar Avenue and anxiously wait for a bus that will take us roughly five miles to a quieter area of town.
As a bus approaches we push ourselves into the crowd and hope to get a spot to at least stand in the aisle. The bus is now packed to overflowing, literally people hanging out the door. (I have been in Venezuela for nearly a year and a half now so I am completely used to this very typical scene.) The bus makes even more stops and everyone packs together even tighter in order make room.

By now we are nearly on top of the people who were lucky enough to get a seat. It smells funny, it's hot, and we don't have much personal space... at all. The bus roars down the avenue, music blasting, people chatting, the money collector yelling at people waiting on the street, and then... it happens.
Two people in the back row stand up and urgently tell us to take their seats and to get down. As they rush to the front of the bus, they tell everyone to get down and begin closing the heavily tinted windows as they go. (What on earth is going on?!?!?)
All of the sudden the bus is nearly silent, the front doors and all the windows are shut and there are only five people standing and each one of them has a pistol. Everyone else on the bus is crouching either in the aisle or their seat. In a flurry of confusion the robbers begin snatching bags, searching pockets, removing jewlery, taking belts, pulling off shoes, whatever they could grab.
"What are we going to do?!?!" I asked my companion.
"Maybe I can take them out!" he says. (He was in the Air Force before the mission)
"Are you CRAZY, there are Five of them and one of you" (because i'm not going to be any help, i'm about to pee my pants). With some firmness, I convinced him to stay in his seat and do whatever they asked "so no one gets hurt."
By this time we have generously donated: our bags with all of our teaching material, our scriptures, our wallets (with our drivers licenses) all our spare change, our name tags, and our belts. At least we still had our clothes... for a minute.
As the ring leader was yelling, telling everyone to stay down, he made his way straight down the aisle to the back row, and stopped. I was kind of relieved because I had nothing more for him to take. He stood me up and searched all my empty pockets and yelled in my face, "Da me todo!!!" (give me everything).
I lifted my head and tried to look confused and asked, "Que?" (what) the whole time knowing what he meant, but hoping I wouldn't have to.
I had barely gotten my question out when he yelled, "NO ME MIRAS!" (don't look at me), and slapped me HARD across my left cheek and began to tug on my shirt and tie. "DA ME TODO!!!" he yelled again.
I sat down, my face burning, completely bewildered and said to my companion, "They want everything! We can't get undressed on a city bus!!!!"
"We've got to", he urged me. "So no one gets hurt." (now he was talking sense into me)
I reluctantly removed my tie, which was quickly snatched by the greedy hands that had just slapped me. As I began to unbutton my shirt we were motioned to scoot to the corner. I noticed that about a third of the bus was now... not wearing much... just their undies. "What is going on?" I thought. By this point, nearly 10 to 20 minutes had gone by.
As I scooted next to the window, I could see that the bus had gotten on the freeway and was now speeding out of town. Where are they taking us and when will this be over...
...to be continued...