There's a boy in my life

[did reading that make YOU as happy as it made me to write it?]

It started a little before the technical beginning of summer.
And some recent adjustments to my life, because of this boy, include:

- Star Trek dvds
- buying chips and Ramen noodles at the grocery store
- seeing different movies than normal, like Kung Fu Panda 2 (i cried...don't judge.)
- family prayer at night
- reading scriptures out loud at the breakfast table
- cleaning up a mess without losing my patience
- learning to say "yes" whenever "yes" can be said
- changing my schedule to accommodate another's needs
- noticing the smell of "boy" everywhere (really...do they all have a smell?)
- trying to figure out my workout schedule
- getting up a little earlier so there is time to make sack lunches
- paying attention to the needs of another
- praying that I'll know what to say
- listening so I'll know what NOT to
- making room in my life for someone else
- reaching out for help in ways I've not needed before
- opening my heart so much that it hurts
- realizing how much I've missed out on

I'm a mom this summer.
(A single mom who is trying to date occasionally...)
And in just a few weeks it's been the hardest sweetest experience ever.
I almost don't remember what I was like before.
THAT is how much it is changing me.
And though this isn't what I expected, as it turns out, it's exactly what I needed.
And I'm learning things I realize now I could be learning no other way.
that I simply wasn't learning any other way.

For all the talk of "mothering" and for all my understanding of how all women nurture and mother in their own way, well...
there are simply some things those of us who aren't actual mothers will never be able to learn in the way those of you who are actual mothers get the chance to learn every day.

And that is why I'm treasuring every single day of this new adventure.
Not loving finding out how "about me" my life has been.
But loving finding out how much less "about me" I want it to be.

There's a boy in my life.
It's my 16 yr old nephew and he is here for a summer adventure.
But I think it's ME who is getting the adventure.

And I must say...I'm learning some important things.
And I'm really really loving it.

(to be continued)

Goodbye to that girl [the 1/2]

I felt it almost as soon as the race began and I ran through the "start" line.
I should have turned back to look but I had a rule that I wasn't to look back.
I don't remember consciously deciding that was a rule, but it had served me well at "stop sign" and so the first time I was tempted to look back, I told myself I couldn't.

I didn't want to be comparing myself to where the other runners were.
I didn't want to feel aware of anyone behind me.
This was about me and what I could do.
Not where I was relative to anyone else.
And, I could tell my spirit had this need to not look back.
I've done that too much in my life and today was not going to be another day like that.

But, now I kind of wish I had.
I think I would have liked to have said, "goodbye".
Goodbye to the girl I was leaving behind.

Does that sound dramatic?
It's not. Not at all.

I really wish there was a way to open up my head and my heart so you could see the girl I was when this whole journey began.
True, I've divulged a lot of that here on this blog in the past.
Yet no one but God and me will really ever know what a miracle it was that THAT girl was able to get to a place where THIS girl could do THIS thing.

And it seemed with every step I took, I felt myself get further and further away from the girl I used to be.

Maybe that's why I ran for 6.5 miles without stopping (still can't believe I did that).
Maybe that's why I felt myself panic just a bit when the cramp started.
Perhaps I feared just a bit that girl I left at the start line was walking slowly after me and I didn't want her to catch me...I didn't want her to pull me back to that place I let her hold me in for far too long.

And so I ran.
And with every breath and every mile, I felt myself immerging into someone new.
And yet, familiar.

A miracle happened somewhere after mile 6.5.
I would say it was at mile 10 but it wasn't like it happened in one little moment.
It happened over the course of the race.

You see, there was a time when the girl I was before would not have kept going.
There was a time when the girl I was before would have given up.
There was a time when the girl I was before would have stopped believing

But that time was not this day.
And I knew with every push forward, I was no longer that girl.
And I haven't been that girl ever since.
I look at myself in the mirror every morning and I see someone totally different.

There is only one other day in my life that I can recall being as life changing as June 11, 2011. That day too was a day where my identity came more clearly into view than it ever had.

I am simply not the girl I was before.
I said "goodbye".
And there is no going back now.



And if you need some inspiration to "say goodbye", here you go:



say goodbye to that girl who's forgotten her pride
say hello to the girl who is rising inside
she won't hold back my life, can't sit here in regret
so it's time to say goodbye to the old...

there was a life within me, but then it started fading
i started feeling all these things i never knew
i need to stop pretending
that i can't change my ending
i will not let my spirit die this way
who says goodbye when life's just beginning?

say hello to the world that i thought that was there
was a prisoner inside now i'm breathing the air
yesterday's old cocoon hatched a new butterfly
now it's time to say goodbye to the old...
and welcome the new

the power of the cheers [the 1/2]

"GO, LAUREL!"

I heard my name.
I looked over to see unfamiliar faces.* (so cute though, right?)
But, there was no doubt it was my name on those posters.
And my name that was being yelled.

And oh how I needed a "Go, Laurel!" right about then.



I could see the finish line...finally.
But, even though I could see it, in that moment, I still couldn't imagine actually crossing it.
I mean, me?
A half marathoner?
How could it be.

Every step hurt and took effort.
But, I was running, slowly, but running just the same.



By the time I got to the last 100+ yards, I was completely overcome with emotion.
And then, every now and then I'd hear my name.
MY NAME.

Turns out some of you who I've never met were there (seriously, how cool are you?).
And other people who I knew and stood along University Avenue right at the end to cheer me on and see me finish.

Something really interesting happens at the end of a race.
You are spent and you want to quit.
You might even consider stopping.
Or walking the last little bit.

But, then you hear the cheers.
And you cry.
And that brings on more cheers.
And then there is no way you are not going to finish...and finish strong.
It's a pretty amazing feeling.



I've thought a lot about that.
Even shared it with the girls I spoke to last Monday.

"What would happen if every time you were faced with something difficult," I asked, "you could hear the cheers of everyone pulling for you?"

"What would happen if every time you stood in the face of temptation, all of heaven cheered you through it?"

"There is NO WAY you wouldn't get yourself to that finish line. There is no way."

It was a message I've never been able to share before in quite that way.
Because I had truly never experienced it before in quite that way.
It was one of the sweetest moments ever.

We need to be more encouraging of each other.
We need to feel less awkward about acknowledging when something is hard.
I wish we would allow ourselves to be more vulnerable so we are more willing to ask for support.
And we certainly need to cheer louder and harder than any of the other influences in the lives of those we love.

There is power in the cheers.
And that power pushes us to do things we very well maybe wouldn't do otherwise.

So...find someone this week to cheer on, will you?

(this was waiting for me when we pulled up to my house on Saturday. Whoever you are...THANK. YOU. I kept it up for 4 days. frankly, it would still be up but I feared that was obnoxious. But, seriously. THANKS. xoxo)




*so much thanks to you, Gwen. We've never met. You've been incredibly encouraging on this little blog of mine. I know you were at the race for other people...but it meant so very much to me that you included me in your cheer section. you will never know how much I needed those cheers in that moment. Or, maybe, if you're reading...now you will. We'll meet one of these days. xoxo

Worth it [the 1/2]

"It will all be worth it."
-Sarah Franks


There is a pretty sweet love story interwoven in the storyline of 17 Miracles.
And it's a true pretty sweet love story.
Which makes it even pretty sweetier.

Sarah and George fall in love.
Sarah doesn't want to marry George until they can marry in the temple.
Sarah tells George "It will all be worth it."
They cross the plains together.
Sarah gets really sick.
George give Sarah his ration of food.
Sarah gets better.
George gets sick.
Then...well...[spoiler alert]
One of them dies before they make it to Zion.
But from all indications, until the day she died, Sarah Franks felt it was all worth it.*

Right at about mile 6.5, I could feel a tug in my left calf.
I thought if I ignored it and just kept running, it would go away.
I thought wrong.
And just before mile marker 7, I had to stop running.
I made my way to the side and stretched.
I tried to massage my calf and I started to cry.
"Please, Heavenly Father. I've worked so hard. Please don't let this happen."

I looked up and saw some people who I love just ahead. I had been running for 6.5 miles. I wasn't about to let them see me walk. So I ran and blew a kiss and Erin (who had been waiting for me) joined me as we ran past them together.

"I have a cramp," I told her. "It's bad."
And then, once we were past all the people, I started to cry again.

I could not imagine running the last 6.1 miles with this cramp.
So, I walked a bit then stopped to massage and cry and pray.
Then I would run a bit.
But, I had to run mile 8 because the person I assigned to the mile was there.
And I just had to do it.
And I did.

Then mile 9 came and I couldn't run anymore. Tammy said that was fine with her because she wasn't a runner...so walking was totally appropriate (I love that girl).

And it was during the mile that my mind went to a million different places.
None of them very good.
I was so done.
I just so wanted to quit.
After Tammy left us, Erin did some "tough love" and I couldn't be more grateful.

"You knew this would be hard, Laurel. You knew this. So are you going to quit? Are you going to just stop here and sit on the side of the road? Are you done?"

"No. I can't. Of course not."

"Of course you're not. So stop it. Stop talking like this. Stop feeling this way. You know you can do this. You have less to go now than our shortest run. You'e going to do this. So, just run."

And THAT is when we parted ways.
After she had said what someone needed to say to me.

And something happened during mile 10.
Something really really significant.

Nothing changed about the way I physically felt.
I was in pain.
I was exhausted.
I was done.

But, I didn't quit.
And I learned some really important things about myself.
Significant things.

After the race I stopped at the home of some dear friends.
They weren't able to be at the race but in so many ways, they got this journey started for me. I related what had happened and how frustrating it was that the cramp had come and never left.

"I really think I could have come in under 3 hours if it hadn't happened. I really think I might have been able to run the whole thing."

"But think of how different the experience would have been if you had," he said.

I felt the truth of that statement.
He was absolutely right.
Little about this journey has been easy.
I've had to dig deep.
Deep.
And now that I'm where I'm at and can see what I can see?
Well, I don't think I'd have it any other way.

Part of why last Saturday was such a holy experience for me (and it was...in so many ways it was) was because it got hard...really hard...right at the half way point.

Part of why last Saturday was so life changing for me (and it was...it absolutely was) was because I didn't think I was going to be able to finish.

And all of why last Saturday means so much to me is because I did.

Sometimes the difficulty of the experience is what makes it holy.
Sometimes the difficulty of the journey is what makes finishing worth it.

So. worth. it.


*One of the sweetest parts of the "Sarah & George" story is told at the very end of the movie. When President Faust learned of the story he made sure that the temple work for Sarah and George was done...and they were sealed as husband and wife (the term we use for "marriage") for eternity in the temple they were crossing the plains to get to.
Worth it?
Yes.
Worth it.

Call of a Champion [the 1/2]

There are no words, really, to describe the feeling of running down Provo Canyon on a cool crisp June morning at 6 a.m. with thousands of other runners (thousands).

I could NOT stop smiling.
I giggled.
I'm pretty sure it was loud enough for others to hear.

But I couldn't help it.
I yelled to Erin, "I can't stop smiling."
I yelled at the top of my lungs as we ran through the tunnel.
I kept waiting to stop running.
But, I couldn't.
My legs just wouldn't stop.

I felt like I was on top of the world.
I felt like I could do anything.
I felt like I was hearing the call of a champion.

Maybe because I was.

(I will remember that moment forever whenever I hear this song...it was the first one on my playlist that morning. really it was. just TRY to imagine running to this...down Provo Canyon...on a cool crisp June morning...and then just try not to smile. just try.)




(image found here)

cops, dating and why i love girls camp

(we take a little break from my 1/2 report to bring you this.)

As if finally getting around to return yet another phone call from the canceled date guy ("jerk store", remember?) wasn't awkward enough, no sooner than 1 minute into the call, I had to say this:

"Oh, wow. Um...I'm getting pulled over. I'll have to call you back."

No. joke.
In the middle of accepting a date, I get pulled over by a cop.
What is it about me and policemen?
Why do they find me so irresistable?
(And you would think my half-marathon medal...that I wore to work today...I really did...would have gotten me out of it? But, he was not impressed.)

Saturday lunch date (yes, I committed to go but strategically just for lunch. No movie. Why do boys think movies are good first "get to know you" dates?) said, "Wow. I've never been talking to a girl when she gets pulled over by a cop before."
All I could say was, "Stick around long enough and it'll happen again."

And this tonight, on the way to my first girls camp for the summer.
I can already tell I'm in for many experiences like last year.
And I'm so grateful.

God takes these girls out into the wilderness so He can connect with them. It's so evident. My job when I go speak...I really truly believe...is just to stay out of the way so that He can. But every now and then He uses me to do something really specific for one girl. I love it when that happens because it reminds me that He does that for me too.

Tonight it was another "Riley moment".
I felt compelled to do the "standing ovations."
And I knew exactly who I needed to invite up...including a leader.
I didn't know their stories.
I didn't know their struggles.
I couldn't read their hearts.
But He does and can.
And I heard what I should say.
And I watched what He could do.
And what He did.

So, I don't care about the ticket or even the lunch date (I promise I'm trying...I just don't think I'm feeling it on this one) because "Riley moments"--when God takes the time to let us know He knows we're there--are what this life is all about.

That's what Saturday was all about for me.
That's what tonight was all about for some of His daughters.
And that's just one of the many reasons I'm already loving my summer.

And THAT is what cops and dating and girls camp have to do with each other.
I know...only me.

Mile 10: Run on the water [the 1/2]

(If I try to capture the race in chronological order, I fear I'll never get to everything. So, just in case I only get to some of it, I wanted to start with what felt like the crux of this whole experience.)

I walked for the entire mile 9.
It was Tammy's mile and she joined me and stayed with me til almost the end of it.

Then she left and Erin tried to talk me through the spiral I was experiencing.
I was so frustrated I couldn't run.
The cramp in my calf had done me in.
I was tired.
Every self doubt was coming at me full force.
I was done.
I knew I wasn't going to quit.
But, I was done just the same.
A paradox to be sure.

I had hoped Erin would get to run the last bit at her pace (for her take on the race, you MUST read her blog post. Oh, you must...greater love hath no friend.). I knew she wanted to but I also knew she wasn't going to leave me in the state I was in. And while I was grateful for that, I knew somehow the state I was in wasn't going to leave me unless she did. For as perfect of a partner as she was from the beginning, I sensed I had to dig deep on this one. I had to do it because I was capable of doing it...not because someone was capable of getting me to do it.

We passed mile marker 10 and I told her to go.
I promised her I would be okay.
And I watched her run off ahead.

Then I hit "play" on my little nano.

A dear friend wanted to make sure I had this particular song. But, he couldn't have known when it would play...how much I would need it. And truly, the song could not have been a more perfect expression of the Lord's complete awareness of me and the very step I was on. The Lord knew what Mile 10 would be for me.

I knew He knew.
And, through the tears, I started to run (again).



You look around
It's staring back at you
Another wave of doubt
Will it pull you under
You wonder

What if I'm overtaken
What if I never make it
What if no one's there?
Will you hear my prayer?

When you take that first step
Into the unknown
You know that he won't let you go

So what are you waiting for?
What do you have to lose?
Your insecurities try to alter you

You know you're made for more
So don't be afraid to move
Your faith is all
It takes and you can
Walk on the water too

So get out
And let
Your fear fall to the ground
No time to waste
Don't wait
Don't you turn around and miss out
Everything you were made for
I know you're not sure
So you play it safe
Try to run away

If you take that first step
Into the unknown
He won't let you go

Bridge:
(step out)
Even when a storm hits
(step out)
Even when you're broken
(step out)
Even when your heart is telling you telling you to give up
(step out)
When your hope is stolen
(step out)
You can't see where you're going
You don't have to be afraid

So what are you waiting,
What are you waiting for?

So what are you waiting for?
What do you have to lose?
Your insecurities try to alter you

You know you're made for more
So don't be afraid to move
Your faith is all
It takes and you can
Walk on the water...
Walk on the water too

-Britt Nicole

We. Did. It. [the 1/2]

We really really did.
And I say "we" because it is abundantly clear I did not to this alone.

It was Erin who stayed with me til I forced her to leave me at mile 10.
It was my dearest of friends who I saw every mile beginning at mile 7.
It was the girl who came up to me before the race and said she reads my blog and couldn't believe what I was doing (sorry I didn't catch your name, new friend).
It was the some of the other runners who kept trying to pass me and kept me going.
It was the crowd the last 100 yards that cheered when all I wanted to do is stop.
It was a killer playlist (that so many of you helped assemble).
It was everything I've been learning.
It was the power of prayer.
It was what I had written on my hand.
It was the Spirit.
It was a loving amazingly kind Father in Heaven.

We ran a consecutive 6.5 miles without stopping and then we finished a half-marathon in 3 hours and 16 minutes, getting a wicked calf cramp at 6.5 that just never let up.

And tonight, though unbelievably sore, I feel amazing.
My life feels so different.
My heart is totally calm.

And the things that I learned on those 13.1 miles?
I will attempt to articulate in the coming days.
Every step meant something.
Every song was perfectly placed.
Every moment sunk deep into my heart.
Even the cramp served a sacred purpose.
I see that now.

I wouldn't trade the experience for very many things.
Life changing is not overly dramatic.
I will never be the same.

We did it.
We really really did.

And I couldn't be more grateful.
xoxo



(I love what this picture captures. The cramp in my calf has just started and I was so frustrated I couldn't run and then I saw some friends at mile 7 and I was overwhelmed by what my little heart felt. And I started running again. Pure gratitude. That's what this expression is. A huge thanks to Macy Robison who photographed some of what happened today. You're amazing, Macy! xoxo)

Ready. (day 1)

It's almost here.
Tomorrow is the date with my destiny.

If you had told me on the morning of November 28, 2010 that today I would be 24 hours away from my first half-marathon, I never would have believed you.

Except that somewhere in the back of my heart
in the back of my mind
behind my regrets
and my fears
and my disappointments
Behind the prayers I had stopped praying
and my dreams
and my faith
and my hopes...

I think I knew.
I knew.

And I was ready.

And now it's here.
And I'm ready still.

But, just for fun...pray for me anyway.
(even better if the prayers are happening at 8am Mountain Time...about the time when I worry just a tich I might be dying. just a tich.)
xoxo


(from the bottom of my little over-flowing heart, THANK YOU for being a part of this journey. It's not nearly over. And in many ways...in so many ways...tomorrow it will just be beginning. Again.)

Dream BIG (day 2)

God gives us dreams
a size too big
so that we can grow into them.
~Author Unknown

I've listened to "Dream Big" more times than I can count.
For more years than I want to admit because I wasn't really doing it.
"Dreaming big", that is.
I wish I had written it.
I didn't.

But, my heart has heard it just the same.
FINALLY.

And I'll be hearing that message loud and clear on Saturday.
Loud and clear.


Ryan Shupe & the RubberBand - Dream Big by EMI_Music

I. am. a. runner. (day 3)

We made another attempt at a 3-miler tonight.
It was completely different from last night.

I talked myself through it.
ME.
I did that.

I kept saying, "I am a runner. I am a runner. I am a runner."
Over.
and over.
and over.
Again.

I don't have words tonight for this thing that is happening inside of my spirit. I am completely overwhelmed with my feelings of gratitude and "I can't believe this is who I am."

But it is.
It is.

This IS who I am.
This is the most me I have ever been.

I am a runner.
I am.

And it means so much more than what you might think.
I'm a fighter.
I'm a chooser.
I'm a changer.
I'm a hope-er.
I'm a believer.

I'm a runner.
Oh, I love that way that sounds.

And I love even more the way this feels.

learning how (day 4)

I am always doing that which I cannot do,
in order that I may learn
how to do it.
~Pablo Picasso

Tonight was supposed to be my last 3-mile attempt before the big day Saturday.
It's called "tapering down" in the runner's world (I'm so legit).
Should be easy.
But, it. was. hard.

My lungs got tight the first 1/2 mile.
My legs felt like lead by the second.
"What on earth?" I kept asking myself.

By mile 2.75 I had already walked twice and I was DONE.

Erin did her very level best to do all the things that have worked before.
But, my head was completely out of the game and I didn't have another step.

I really didn't think I did.

Then some guy came running up behind (ok. it wasn't some guy. I knew him.) and he challenged me to run the last bit.
"I'm done. Really. I'm done."

"No you're not," he said.

And then he just wouldn't stop talking.
And I didn't stop running.
I tried to tell him I hated him.
And then I told him I loved him.
I tried to tell him to leave me alone.
And then I told him to keep talking.
He let me walk for 10 seconds and then somehow got me to go faster than I had gone the whole time.

At the very end.

When I was done.

He even made me laugh right out loud.

I'm fascinated by what happened.
I really really really was done.
I didn't have one more step in me. I really didn't.
I didn't WANT to have one more step in me.
And yet...

When we were done, I hit him in the arm.
Then we did the "high five".
"How did you get me to do that?" I asked.
His answer seemed so simple: "You still had more in you."

And...He was right.
I did.
But, I wouldn't have known that if I hadn't done it.

You better believe I'll remember that moment come Saturday.
The moment when I think I'm done, I'll know I'm not.

I'm doing things I never have before.
Things I would've thought I could not do.
And I'm learning HOW to do them.
And it's pretty unbelievable to me.
Pretty unbelievable.

the seedling (day 5)

The seedling doesn't grow up to become anything other than what it was created to be because it simply doesn't believe anything else is even an option.
-me.


(image found here)

Who do you think you're not? (day 6)

...and how is that impacting who you could become?
Think about it.

The most confining limits that had been placed on my life before this journey began were put there by one person.

ME.

It's not who you are that holds you back,
it's who you think you're not.
~Author Unknown

Every. Single. Step. (day 7)

Often, what seems an impossible climb
is just a staircase
without the steps drawn in.
-Robert Brault

This morning was my last short "long run" before next Saturday.
I really can't even believe the half-marathon is already here.
I can't believe I'm even talking about a half-marathong.
But, I am.

There are things I wish I had done and marks I wish I had passed.
But, I am where I am and I'm going to do this.
I know I am.

So it obviously doesn't feel completely impossible...but, at the same time, I don't see how I'm going to finish.
I just know that I am.

The past few weeks have been filled with counsel and advice on how to do this race. I've had suggestions that combine every possible option of "running/walking" out there. And I've tried several of them.

This morning, though, with one lap left, I just knew nothing I had tried was feeling right. So, Erin and I talked while we walked and I realized that I know exactly what my body can and wants to do and I just need to trust myself and what feels right to me.

I will run past the point I think I can.
Then walk long enough to go at it again.
Always running past the point I think I can.
That's what I do.

Someone had suggested to Erin to have a person for every mile to run for.
Don't you love that idea? I thought about that and came up with a plan.

I have a list of people who have in some way been a part of this journey and I want them with me on the run. I want their voice in my head. I want to think about what they'd say to me. I want to reflect on the impact they've had on my life. I want to run for those who can't and run for those who helped me believe I could.

One of my miles?
It's for you.

Is that so totally cheesy?

I've been getting more emails than usual the last few weeks from people who read this blog and never comment...and something about my journey is connecting for them and I've been so grateful to know that.

It helps me share.

So, one of the miles is for you.
And you know what I would love?
I'd love your recommendations of the perfect running song. I'm putting together my playlist this week and I have realized that I can't listen to Daughtry over and over again for 3+ hours.

So, will you humor me?
If you've never commented or even if you have,
If you're a runner or you couldn't care less about running,
If you've been following my "a better me" journey,
If you'd like to be part of my half next Saturday...

Will you share a song suggestion for the run?

I feel like having songs chosen by people who are in any way connected to this journey will make every single step I take feel a little more doable. And, after today, I see how much I need every little bit of help I can get.

Help me build my staircase?
xoxo


(And if leaving a song just isn't your thing, a simple "you can do it" will be helpful too.)

I dreamed a dream (day 8)

If you want to make your dreams come true,
the first thing you have to do is wake up.
-J.M. Power

Tonight I saw "Les Mis".
(How is it possible it gets better every time?)

I saw some dear friends there...one couple that I hadn't seen for a while.
We were talking during intermission.
They both said I looked great (and I shouldn't need that but I just always appreciate comments that I really am changing and people can see it).
But then the Mrs part of this couple said, "You look so happy."

I told her I was and then she asked what was happening in my life.
My answer was simple:
"I feel like I just woke up and decided to go after the life I wanted."

I do have this dream of the life I want.
In some ways, I've worked to live parts of it.
But the real dream for my life?
Well, it's always been there, I suppose, but it has spent a lot of time in the background, barely seen, rarely talked about.

Now, though, I feel like this dream is actually within my grasp.
There are moments when it's so in front of me, I feel like it's already here.

I dreamed a dream to become the woman I was born to be.
...And every day I'm one day closer to living it.

So next time you ask me what is happening in my life?
Well, now you know.

17 Miracles + 1 (day 9)

miracle[n]: an event attributed to divine intervention

You who live in Utah--
Cancel whatever plans you have this weekend and go see 17 Miracles.
I saw it tonight and I can't say enough about it.
Really. Run. See it.

It is a tender, emotional reminder of how intimately God is involved in our lives
...how anxious He is to intervene when He needs to
...how okay it is to ask for that intervention.

I guess seeing this film tonight was particularly sweet because it helped me see today as just one more little miracle in a string of miracles in my life recently.

I injured my toe Tuesday night. I won't bore you with the details and I have no idea how it happened, but training has been painful. I thought if I ignored it, then it would go away. There was no way something like this was going to happen 10 days before the big day.

But, this morning, I knew I was in trouble.

Flash back one month ago.

I spoke at a morningside devotional. I told my "I'm a runner" story and afterwards a man came up to me. He was a Physical Therapist who specializes in rehab for runners. He gave me his card and said, "Chances are, if you're serious about this, you might need my help."

I called his office this morning.

No appointment was available until Monday.
"I hate to do this but would you mind telling him who is calling?"
The receptionist came back, "He can see you today at 11:30."

I didn't want to cry. I really really didn't. But, the thought that *maybe* I really had injured myself, this close to the race, was just too much.

And through my tears, I said: "Just tell me I can do this. Please tell me I can run my half-marathon. I can't not run it."

And, as sweetly as anyone could, after running tests and causing more pain and figuring out why my toes were going numb, and bringing down the inflamation of a weird nerve in my calf, and doing some rehab and giving me some pointers, he said:

"Me being there when you spoke was no accident. I knew I was supposed to offer my help. You will run this race. I will make sure you cross that finish line.
You just need to remember two things.
One: You will be able to run but not without pain. But, you can do this.
Two: It's not your body that will be running; it's your spirit."

I got that feeling you get when you know you are in the right place at the right time and I knew God had placed this good man in my life a month ago so he could help me today...and had then him say exactly what I needed to hear.

And I thought about his words as I cried and said a little prayer on my way back to the office--reminders of what I've been learning.

And tonight, as I watched this beautiful movie (really, please go see it),
I thought about this miraculous journey I'm on.
I thought about the way my life changed six months ago.
I thought of some of you who have been inspired to comment on my blog or send encouraging emails (I haven't said "thank you" enough...but THANK. YOU.).
I thought about a blessing I received where I was told I would cross that finish line.
I thought of the providence of my meeting this really good man, who felt committed to help me because he had heard my story and knew how passionate I was about this whole journey.

And I'm in awe.

Because I see how intimately God is involved in our lives
...how anxious He is to intervene when He needs to
...how okay it is to ask for that intervention.

I watched a film tonight with 17 beautiful miracles.
And today, I had one of my own.
And I'm quite certain come June 11th I'll have another.

Just a few of a lifetime of divine interventions.
All miracles to me.

(PS I totally have a crush on Levi Savage.)

Man was not meant to tread alone (day 10)

Remember that one time how I went to Orcas Island all by myself?
Remember how much I loved it because I was a totally delightful traveling companion for myself?

Well, tonight was nothing like traveling to Orcas Island alone.

Tonight I treaded by myself for the first time ever.
I did not like it.
Not one little bit.

Treading with someone else is just so much better than treading with just me.

I mean, I didn't let up.
And I didn't quit.
I pushed myself...even without someone on the treadmill next to me saying (er, gasping), "You can do this."

But, it just wasn't the same.
It was harder.
It was way less fun.
There was no "hey! look how amazing we are!" when it was over.
Treading alone was...lonely.

Yes, there maybe has been an underlying theme lately in some of my posts.
And I won't even apologize for it.

Man was not meant to live alone...or tread alone.
And, as it turns out, neither was this girl.

Which is just as it should be.

(Oh, and I'm never treading alone again. Did you hear that, Erin?)



(PS Is anyone else freaking out that my half-marathon IS IN TEN DAYS?!? Anyone? Anyone?)

The jerk store called...

...and they're running out of me.

(We interrupt my "a better me" journey to bring you this...)

Okay. story time.

I *might* have met someone who *might* have asked me out for last Friday night (and bless him, he even asked me out on a Sunday for a Friday night. Points, I know.)

Well, I *might* have had to cancel because something came up (it was totally legitimate. Promise.) and I *might* have been okay with that because I *might* have decided I wasn't really up for it.

He *might* have called me Sunday night to try and reschedule (and left me a really sweet voicemail too. Another point.) and I *might* not have called him back yet.

And then this afternoon, I *might* have been talking to a few colleagues at work and I *might* have heard a voice and I *might* have looked down at my phone and realized I somehow accidentally called him.

And then I *might* have panicked and hung up immediately.

Yep.
Me = jerk.

I need to call him back, don't I?
And I need to be going on a date this weekend probably too, eh?

Seriously. The jerk store is calling...