If we did all the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.
Thomas A. Edison
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Famous
Well, the kids and I finally made it to fame. We were roped into pushing a handcart with our friends (Lynn and Sara who are also in the photo) in the Enoch City Parade and had our picture taken for the local paper. Even the dog made it in... he loved being in the parade, he thought he was quite the celebrity.
After the parade we went to the park and enjoyed a festival with free rides and booths for the kids and $.25 sno cones. Joseph thought he was in heaven.
I spent a couple hours painting kids' faces. One boy asked for a horny toad-- not sure how to do that, I painted a frog instead, thinking he wouldn't be the wiser until he got home. But his friend behind him said, "That looks more like a frog!" Thankfully he forgave my mistake. By the end of the day, Emeline had little animals and shapes painted all over her face and arms. Joseph wanted a demon bunny painted on his face. Should I be concerned?
When I searched for the article with our photo, I came across a couple of other online articles about Pioneer Day and why Utahans honor the pioneers. Some of the online comments to the articles were very negative, saying things like "Why should we honor the pioneers? They didn't do anything more than we do." (citing construction workers who work in 100 degree weather and farmers who toil 24-7). There were several other derogatory comments about the LDS church and our "holiday." It made me sad. We don't, or at least I don't, honor the pioneers because I think they worked harder or sacrificed more than some people do today, but because they worked harder and sacrificed more than most people do today. Yes, our country is home to many hard working, self-sacrificing people. But it is also home to many who spend 25 hours a week watching television (a documented fact) and have close to 30% obesity rates.
The pioneers weren't perfect-- but their personal sacrifices and hard work in settling this state are not mere speculation. They truly gave much to settle Utah, and spending one day a year to honor them for laying the foundation of our current home is just a trifle. For me, the gratitude I feel on Pioneer Day is similar to the gratitude I feel on the 4th of July for the sacrifices made by many during the founding era of our country, or on Veterans Day for the many who gave their lives (in more ways than one) to fight against those who sought to destroy liberty. Pioneers may not be important to the rest of our country or world the way the founders or war veterans are, but they are important to this state and particularly to the LDS religion.
One person commented on the article that no other state harps on their heritage the way Utah does and was disgusted that we do so-- but I think it's a shame that other states don't honor their predecessors. Whether I chose to be LDS or Catholic or Buddhist, I would still believe that being connected the past and to those who have made my life what it is today is vitally important. How ungrateful I would be to live a life of relative ease without recognizing that it was not my own efforts, nor the efforts of most others around me, that made it so. But instead I live in a time of peace, with food readily at my fingertips, and all the luxuries our world provides due to the hard work of people who lived generations ago.
So let it be known that I am grateful for the pioneers who settled these areas. Although Utah isn't my favorite place in the world (the pioneers should have gone back to the east or stayed in the midwest...) I am grateful that they worked hard to build cities of beauty that would last generations. They came to a desert valley with harsh weather conditions and turned it into a pretty decent place to live. And, as a member of the LDS church, I am particularly grateful for their sacrifice in building temples and for their unfailing faith that is an example to me during times of trial.
My favorite pioneer story is that of the man who commented on his experiences with the Willy and Martin handcart companies. When the teacher criticized the companies during a sunday school class for their late departure, he stood in the back of the class and announced that he had been in that company. Then he reported, "I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a hill slope and I have said, 'I can go only that far and there I must give up, for I cannot pull the load through it.' I have gone on to that sand and when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there. Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No, neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay." I believe each of us who pay that price, with whatever sacrifice or hardship we are called to pass through, will be able to say the same-- becoming acquainted with God is worth every amount of pain and sorrow required to do so. And the pioneers provide us with some poignant examples to teach that principle.
So thank you pioneers! Thank you for walking 1500+ miles to settle unchartered territory; thank you for planting trees and building sound structures; thank you for remaining faithful to God in the face of great physical trials; and, at the very least, thank you for making it possible for me and my kids to be in the paper-- for without Pioneer Day, it never would have happened.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Attack of the Killer Bees
When I first started, it took me an hour to run/walk three miles-- last week I ran 3 miles on the treadmill in 24 minutes. It's very exciting to see relatively quick progress, especially since I only have 11 weeks left until I run 26.2. At the same time, I am often disheartened as I struggle to run longer than 4 miles without stopping or when I feel like I've been beat to pulp after running/walking 9 miles (the longest single stretch I have gone so far). I have a long ways to go, but it has been fun to see some progress and feel my body getting stronger and recognize that my mind is reestablishing new limits.
During this training time, I have also had some new experiences: a hurt ankle (that kept me from running for a few days), a sore knee (that made running very painful for a week or so), a sharp pain in my neck (that prevented me from moving my head to the left for three days), the largest blister I've ever had, and vomitting after a run (I think I was dehydrated...).
But the strangest thing I've experienced by far happened this week when I got attacked by bees while running. I felt something on my head and swatted off what turned out to be a small bee, only to have it return. I kept trying to get it off of me without success. I was running and swatting, but soon I had at least 4 or 5 bees buzzing into my hair. I stopped running and began flailing instead. I couldn't get them out of my hair! I threw my headband, thinking they might follow it, but they didn't.
They kept buzzing all around me and then one stung me. I started to panic and decided I needed help. So I called my friend Symbria who lived about a mile or two from where I was, but she didn't answer. I called and called and finally she picked up. I shouted into the phone, "COME AND GET ME!!! I'M BEING ATTACKED BY BEES!!!!" Then I hung up. She called back and frantically asked me where I was. I shouted the cross streets, but she's terrible with numbers so it wasn't registering even after repeating it three times. By this time I was being stung regularly and was almost in tears. A man in a truck drove by and offered for me to get in. Thinking a stranger was less dangerous than a bunch of bees stinging me, I jumped in and shook my head out of the window until they were off of me.
I thanked him for letting me in and he said, "I saw you dancin' out there and figured you were being attacked by bees because the same thing happened to me this morning." Then he asked if I had seen the man with the beehive walking by. I hadn't. Symbria showed up at that point and I jumped into her van with a very sincere thank you to the stranger. She immediately asked me if I needed to be taken to the hospital-- I think she was more panicked than I was. She said she had called 911 and a policeman was on the way. The officer contacted us and asked if we could meet to show him where the attack was because there are two confirmed locations of killer bees in our area. We looked around the area and he asked me about whether I had done something to anger the bees (which I hadn't, unless running down the middle of the road is somehow annoying or invasive to them...). He couldn't confirm whether or not they were killer bees, but he said it was certainly a possibility since the attack wasn't provoked and since they were very aggressive, even as I ran away. He said killer bees continue stinging until the person gets away or dies.
In the end, I only had 5 stings. But it was certainly a strange experience. I never thought I would be attacked by bees.
Despite the aches, pains, and stings associated with my training so far, I am truly getting addicted to running. It is emotionally filling for me. I actually look forward to doing it now. I think it is a great outlet and plan on making it a lifetime habit. I just hope I can be ready to almost triple my longest stretch to date in less than three months. Wish me luck...
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