Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

So I told a lie a few days ago.  A complete one.  Not fudging the facts a bit, just an out and out lie.  My intentions weren't evil or for harm or even to make myself look good.  I did it out of... avoidance, I guess.  I am conflict avoidant.   And I will avoid conflict, unless not avoiding it absolutely has to serve its purpose.   I am not scared of it, I just don't like it.  And actually, it pisses me off.  I had plenty of conflict in my childhood and youth and I've come to a point in my life where I feel that I don't have to have that crap in my life if I don't want to.  And folks that impede on that belief just hack me off.   Because they are entering into my existence and rocking my boat.   And I know that there are tons of people who LOVE conflict, like conflict, search it out, make it up, and create it, but I don't need it.  Not having it has served me well.  Now, I'm not completely without it and I realize it's healthy to resolve conflict, blah, blah, blah, and I know how to go about it, blah, blah, blah.  And this doesn't mean I won't stand up for myself or my loved ones.  But I just don't want it, if I don't need it!

So anyways...I tell my lie (to an acquaintance, not a friend or anyone even on facebook, so you are all in the clear :) and I was SO unconvincing.  I wasn't ready for it.  And I told it to get out of a "thing" that I didn't want to do because I don't like the people having the "thing".  And it was funny.  I was so annoyed and disappointed with myself for not being a better liar.  And then I got annoyed that I felt that way, because I should be proud that I am pretty out of practice and not so accomplished at it!  I'm trying to live my life as Jesus would if he were Rachel Elliott and I'm pretty sure he'd have just said, "No." and not lied.   I've gotten so much better about saying "no" and have learned from my husband that sometimes it's okay to say "no" and not give a reason.  Just say "no."  End of story.  I always feel the need to come up with an explanation of some sorts.  But in this case I didn't feel the need to say that she and the other lady bug and annoy me, so I lied.  And then she probed and I had to cough up details and stumbled around and felt ridiculous.  But whatdaya do?  You can't tell the truth, but don't wanna lie... What did Dennis tell me?  Oh, yeah.  Just say NO and leave it at that!

So now I feel stupid and I'm still disappointed in my lie delivery and I'm disappointed that I'm disappointed in my lie delivery.  Can you imagine what my poor husband lives with?  Trying to be a generative adult (thanks, Sara)...work in progress!

Everyone should have a little Faith

So my friend Faith is an incredible Foodie.  She is way more than that of course, she's funny, she's a fashionista, singer, musician, she's a great mom, wife, knitter(like, as in makes her own yarn, for Pete's sake) and when I say foodie,  I mean, she even makes her own bread.  Like, she DOESN'T BUY bread!  You know how you have friends that you admire for different things, kind of wish you could be more like, in some ways?  I always learn something when I go to her house.  Sometimes it's how to cook something, sometimes it's discovering a vegetable that I did not know existed.  I'm still holding on to a couple of packets of active dry yeast that I'm trying to remember what I'm supposed to do with.  Anyways, it's always an education and I'm always inspired to try something after.

So the other day, I saw a blog with a recipe for something called a Radish Tart.  Sounds gross, 'cause I don't like radishes, but it LOOKED delicious!

So I bought the stuff to make it.  Maybe the radishes will taste differently cooked, I don't know.  It looked easy enough, too.  

Well, folks, this is what MY version of the tart looked like prior to cooking.

And after....

IT LOOKS LIKE THE ORIGINAL PICTURE!!

I NEVER make anything that looks right!  And do you know what???  It tasted DIVINE!!  That's right, Suckas, I made something that looked AND tasted delicious.  Mark it down!  

Ooh...I better go get a lotto ticket, too.  See ya.

My buddies, Faith and Jenny

They would want me to show you who they are.

I Did A Full Half!!!

Me, my coach, JD, and my little cheer section!

I did it!  I successfully finished my first half marathon.  I do believe it is a little bit like giving birth.  You kind of forget the pain after.  You know there was suffering, but it's a little blurred, now.

My morning did not start out so swell.  JD, my coach was doing the race, too and he came by and picked me up at zero thirty in the morning.  The race was going to start at 6:45am in January!  Not to worry, it was in the balmy mid 60s or so.  That eliminated the whole, "I'm gonna freeze", "what am I going to do once I heat up?" kind of questions.  We got out of the driveway and I realized I had my heartrate strap on and no Garmin.  Turn around.  Got the watch and we were on our way.  We found a great parking space(wonderfully and crucially,right next to the bathrooms, swwwweeet!) and then I discovered my watch was dead.  This was a big deal because now I couldn't watch my pace and time or heart rate or anything!  I KNOW I charged it up and had made sure 2 days prior that it was, but maybe an elbow knocked it off the base, I don't know. Oh, well, I could still run and it wasn't as bad as when I had forgotten my helmet, which you have to have to compete, at a triathlon and found someone to let me borrow one at the last minute, bless that stranger!

So I found a spot in the 5500+ people and waited for take off.  The first 4 miles went by relatively quickly and felt good. I heard one lady telling another that they were under 11 minute pace and I knew I had to slow down a bit or I would run out of gas at the end.  My goal was a) don't walk and b) under 12 minutes.  My "stretch" goal was an 11:30 pace for the 1/2 marathon.  5k pace is not the same as 1/2 marathon pace I have learned!  I'm a turtle, I know, but I'm out there, at least!  The next few miles were ok, too, until I got to Burnet Road.  I'm guessing around miles 7-9.  I started the mental game around this point.  It's the point where you still have quite a ways to go, but boredom and fatigue are starting to set in.  I was getting thirsty around here, too.  I usually wear my water belt when I run, but I decided to use their water stops with the exception of a small 8 oz bottle of 1/2 gatorade, 1/2 water in my fanny pack.  They seriously need a different name for that thing.  Not wearing the water belt proved to be a major mistake later.  NEVER CHANGE THE ROUTINE!  I drank about 1/2 my back up and saved the rest in case.  I knew if I could make it to mile 11, I'd see Dennis and Chrissy and the kids and that would get me from 11-12.  And I knew that once I was at 12, I was on the last mile and close to the end and that would spur me on to the finish.  I FINALLY got to mile 11 and saw everyone and when I did I threw my hands in the air and ran over and gave them high fives.  I had a small hill after that and probably expended too much energy when I saw them, but it was such a bright spot after the last 2-3 miles prior.  I finally got to mile 12, which was possibly measured wrong at  two miles rather than one, I swear.  I saw JD as I was closing in on the finish line and he ran with me for a short bit and congratulated me and told me to sprint it in, which I did.  Well, it felt like a sprint, anyways.  Looking at the video, it was more of a normal jog :).

And I did it!  I saw my crew right at the finish line and went to get something to drink.  About 5 minutes later, I started to feel woozy, so I sat down.  And then, it never let up.  I laid in the dirt.  I sat by port a potties.  I spent time in the port a potty.  I laid in the dirt by the port a potty.  Finally worked my way over to the Med Tent, which was a mile away.  At least it felt like it.  Everyone was saying, "It's just right there."  It was an eternity away!  I wanted to puke and sleep and I couldn't do either.  My dear friends and family may have been backhanded if they shoved another bottle of Gatorade or water in my face, had I the energy to do so.  The thought of drinking something made my stomach turn.  I knew I had hit all the water stops, so I don't think it was dehydration, but maybe hyponatremia.  I wasn't THAT thirsty.  But I did only have 1 cup of power drink the entire race.  And I had changed from my electrolyte chews to caffeine ones that had some sodium, but not much.  With the heat that I hadn't been training in plus those changes, I think it just hit me.

Overall, the race itself was awesome.  I felt good for most of the run and I didn't walk and I averaged an 11:34 mile!  Only 4 sec/mi off my stretch goal!  I was more bummed that I couldn't enjoy the fun part of the whole shebang, which is AFTER you are done!  It was also embarrassing.  I'm sooo glad that I didn't actually pass out or puke.  I was close!

Wearing my medal and my 13.1 Miles and Still Smiling Tshirt(thanks, Chrissy!) in the med tent.  Someone take this stupid banana.  I don't want it!

Next stop:  Zooma 1/2 Marathon April 16th


Lesson: NEVER CHANGE THE ROUTINE!
3M 1/2 Marathon:  2:31:28

Cultural Identification- spandex vs. the bun hugger

AAAHHH! Tomorrow I run my first half marathon. I'm nervous, but glad as hell to get it behind me. Even though I have another tougher one in April. Running has been very interesting and has allowed me a lot of quiet time. I have time to think and pray, which probably accounts for the such fantastical state of mental health I regularly uphold. You gotta really work at sanity, people. It's like a healthy relationship (as I've learned at our current conversation series at Newchurch), they just don't accidentally happen. Now, I'm being sarcastic because I'm just as crazy as the next person. Obviously. I'm running 13.1 miles. And I'm no teeny thing and I'm slow so I'm running for 2 1/2+ hours straight. But I still don't feel like a "runner". I certainly don't look the part, but there is a whole culture here that I just don't think I fit the bill for. I like to run. But do I loooove it? Not sure. It's the same for cycling. I really like that.  I plan to do a longer ride later this year and try that sport out, too.  But will I fit that bill?  I liked doing the sprint triathlons last year and I'll be doing those again this year. I like to run, I like to ride, although the swimming is for the fishes.  I definitely am not a swimmer.  Thankfully you get that out of the way, first.  So triathlons...maybe that's where I belong. It's seems like a good sport for committers who can't commit. Does that make sense? I'll put in the time, but I don't have to technically pledge my loyalty to any one group and if I don't feel like doing my run training, I can ride my bike and technically I still did some tri training :) and vice versa. Love me loopholes, matey!  But I short myself, blah, blah, blah, I know.

But I digress...running culture and biking cycling culture(sorry swimmers, a non issue here) are so...I don't know.  But they definitely have one!  Walk into a bike store and the men talk bike parts and have 10% body fat and don't mind walking around with their ding dongs showing in their spandex.  I don't know if I can get onboard with that.  And the women, well, I haven't seen a lot of them, but they wear spandex, too, and my butt is flat.  And runners...well, I can bound and gag my chest, but there's no getting around my thighs eating runner shorts for a snack.  But thankfully, the equation is not equal...bun huggers≠spandex.  But running is a lot of time in your head.  I can only be in there so long, you know?

So I guess triathlons is the best bet for me. I'll still try on the others for size once in awhile to mix it up, though.  I gotta wear spandex but I can throw on some cover if I like.  And I've seen all sizes tear it up there, too.  It's inspiring because everyone starts in waves by ages(they publicize your age on the back of your calf for everyone's enjoyment) and you might be riding along and see a 72 on the back of a leg and think, "That's amazing!  I wonder if I'll do this at age 72?  Prolly only be 3 of us, so I'll prolly win my age group, too!  I better beat this old lady or I really suck."  In that order.

Word up

On the KLOVE radio station they are talking about this thing that they are doing where they come up with one word to define the year. Call it your mantra, your personal motto, whatever, but in one word. For instance, Lisa, I believe was the DJ, said that she kept kinda hemming and hawing (I like that phrase) over her word and finally she decided to pray about it and ask God what His word for her should be. The word she heard in her heart was "clear". Didn't sound like a great one to me until she looked it up in the dictionary and read it.

Clear-
1.free from darkness, obscurity or cloudiness; light.
2.transparent
3.without discoloration, defect or blemish
4.pure

Wow...pretty good word after all.

So what is my word for 2011? What is your word? Maybe more importantly than the word is the thought process to come up with the thing. Because I find myself searching and maybe evaluating (necessary evil, for sure) myself to find it.

LOVE LETTERS

"My heart is filled with joy to write you this letter to greet you in the name of Jesus.

I thank you so much for the support that you sent to me to go to school, I'm so sorry that I was not there when the church was here in October because I went to Port-Au-Prince to visit my brother he was sick.

I hope to see you next year. I'm in 7th grade this year.

Pray for me I'm praying for you. May God bless you.

I wish you Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2011.

Rita"

Love Letters

I am the Hope for Kids coordinator for my church. We sponsor children for school in Haiti through an organization called Reciprocal Ministries Inc. We are also part of the sister church program that they coordinate. Our sister church, who we committed to pray for, visit, care for, and assist in any way we can, is in a small village called Les Abricots. It's a tiny village right on the beach, although it's not a beach that you and I could hop into without catching something and I don't mean fish!

Anyways, we sponsor 35+ kids for school and today I received some thank you letters from the kids. Some are uplifting and some are so sad. These kids have been through so much. Hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, hunger, cholera outbreaks, and this is just in the past year. There is no insurance, no medicaid, no grief counselors, no one to diagnose post traumatic stress disorder. In some cases, there is no longer a mommy or daddy. Or sister or brother. My heart breaks for this country. And I know it isn't the only one this way. But it's so close to us, so close to Jamaica with it's resorts. It's attached to the Dominican Republic for crying out loud! You look around Haiti and you just wonder WHY. It's natural landscape is something postcards are made of. So much wrong. And so much still so good. When I see their smiles it is something I can't explain. And even though when I go there, all I have to offer are some words and hugs, they act as though I have given them the world. In reality, I come back with so much more. I have gotten to see a lot wonderful places in my life that a lot of people will never see. I have had vodka out of a glass made of ice on an island in Sweden. I have walked the streets of Prague and London and been in castles and churches in Scotland. And I have visited orphanages in Ethiopia and and villages in Haiti. I have wondered often why I have been privy to see these places around the world. 10 years ago I had never been anywhere and wouldn't have thought in a million years that I would see these places. And I have to think that there must be a reason. I have seen ridiculous extravagance and poverty I never could have imagined. So I figure that there must be a purpose. I don't know what that purpose is. And I pray that God will show me whatever it is. I know that sometimes I think I know what that is or maybe what I hope it is or want it to be. But there is one thing that I am sure of. That is that my most treasured visit and the place where my answer probably lies is where the beauty was in the people and our relationship with them and in a church made out of cinderblocks and a dirt floor.


"Dear Sponsor,

Today is a great day for me to write this letter to you. How are you and your activities? I'm doing well praise be to God.

I think you for helping me go to school. My father is unable to do so for me and my mom has died.

I love you so much and I wish you Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year 2011.

Exanta"

What am I willing to do

So, I haven't blogged in like, years. I used to be so good about it during the adoption process. But lately, I've been having thoughts that Facebook just can't contain or express. Must. Be. Heard. or maybe Must. Run. Mouth. :) I always had a problem with conduct grades as a kid.

Anyways, I just saw this quote and it spoke to me and it also jogged a memory.

"Sometime in your life, hope that you might see one starved man, the look on his face when the bread finally arrives. Hope that you might have baked it or bought it or even kneaded it yourself. For that look on his face, for your meeting his eyes across a piece of bread, you might be willing to lose a lot, or suffer a lot, or die a little even.
~Daniel Berrigan

When Jeanene and I were in Ethiopia getting my little handful, Piper, we were driving, leaving, I think. We came up to a stoplight and there was a man laying against a tree. We had a small grocery bag with a bunch of fruit and crackers that we weren't going to be able to take with us, but felt guilty throwing away. Ordinarily, it would have been stuff that we would have done just that. We rolled down the window and motioned for the man to come to us. He could barely get up. People just sleep along the road and in the narrow medians, just a small swerve from death. Parapalegics are EVERYWHERE. There are no wheelchairs or crutches. They are just dragging themselves around. Can you imagine? But I digress...we handed him the crackers I think, first, and he took them eagerly and kind of waved and started to walk away and then we realized, he probably wasn't too picky an eater and gave him the whole bag. He kept waving and nodding his head and started to eat immediately. And then we drove off. I saw a starved man's face then.