Month: May 2017

Salt Lake City, Utah

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On our free evening in Salt Lake City, we decided to go to the Mormon Tabernacle to hear the choir practice. The most impressive building shown in the picture above is  the Mormon Temple (not where the choir practiced). The practice was held in the dome shaped tabernacle. Before entering, there was a group of kind elderly ladies that searched our purses. People were sitting informally in the pews to listen. It attracted an international audience.

By far my favorite instrument is the pipe organ. This was the largest pipe organ that I have ever seen. The sound was rich. Too bad I couldn’t fit it in my suitcase!

The tabernacle was inside of Temple Square which was surrounded by a large wall. Once I passed through the gates, I felt like I was in a different world. Everything inside was green and lush. There were immaculate gardens. It was peaceful and beautiful.

There were several statues in Temple Square, one of a seagull. Our Salt Lake tour guide said that when the original Mormon settlers came there was a cricket plague. The seagulls swooped in to devour the crickets. Now the seagull has a monument erected in its honor. It is also the state bird. Who would’ve guessed?

Right upon leaving the grounds, there was a young group of Christians evangelizing to the people as they exited.

Outside the gates there were several outdoor fountains that at certain times of the day had a water show, but I didn’t see that.

Down the road from Temple Square was a place that had a lot of signs for tourist photos. It seemed like a traffic hazard more than anything. It was something different.

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Like major cities, there was a homeless population. There were kids that came by on skateboards asking for money to buy drugs.

The city itself is very clean. It was hard to find a cigarette butt or a candy wrapper. It would be nice if such care was taken towards preserving the polluted Great Salt Lake. Although it is nice to know that they weren’t serving fish from the Great Salt Lake at local restaurants since the lake is much too salty for fish.

One major misconception I had about Salt Lake City before visiting was that it was a dry city (as in hard to find alcohol, not as in climate). I didn’t find that to be the case, although the beer on tap has only 4% alcohol. Some of my local favorites are the Moab Brewery Porcupine Pilsner, Squatters Arnold Palmer Ale, and Wasatch’s Polygamy Porter. The good thing about less alcohol was that I was able to sample more. Although Utah law says that you can only have two drinks in front of you at a time, even if those drinks are 2 ounces each.

I was surprised at some of the restaurants in the city. I had an unbelievably good burger at Fat Jack’s Burger Emporium. I built my own and it included some unusual ingredients like Spam, avocado, cilantro, and a fried egg.

Even though we didn’t have a lot of time to explore the city, we were able to see a lot of the major highlights.

The Great Salt Lake

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Paul and I went on a business trip this past week to Utah. We had one afternoon free to see the local sights. I’ve always thought it would be cool to check swimming in the Great Salt Lake off of my bucket list.

It was a cool day when we visited. It was 65 degrees and the water was about the same temperature. We took a tour bus to the site.

It was eerily silent at the Great Salt Lake. No jet skis, no power boats…nothing.

There were some sailboats that weren’t in their slips yet. It still is a little too early for the sailing season. I did hear that the Great Salt Lake has some of the saltiest sailors around.

The lake is very shallow, 11 feet at the deepest.

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Here is a picture of Paul about to make the plunge with his foot. You could see the little sea monkeys in the water. It is too salty for fish, 5 times saltier than the ocean.

The locals warned against swimming in the lake. Unfortunately, the water is polluted from nearby factory run off and has high levels of mercury.

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Here is a picture of Paul and I ‘swimming’ in the Great Salt Lake. A few people braved the cool water and air temps to swim. I opted not to this time, but wouldn’t be opposed to it in the future.

My 3rd marathon

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I was really anxious the day before the race. I couldn’t describe it as a positive or negative feeling. I was restless, but needed to stay still. Mainly, I felt a nervous excitement. It felt like it was the first time. 

I was hoping that having my cousin come from out of town would keep me distracted from what was before me. But he was injured and cancelled the 10 hour drive to get here. 

I decided to run with Lisa, she is a crazy good runner. She is not quite as disciplined as me but apparently she doesn’t need it. This was her 2nd marathon. She was afraid she was going to be slow because she got a little carried away at a party a few nights before. She hopped on a kid’s bike and crashed it banging up her leg. 

It was raining like crazy the day before the marathon. The original forecast said it would be dry for the marathon, but they were wrong. It rained the first hour and a half of the marathon. I grabbed a couple of garbage bags from home to cover Lisa and I. 

There was a traffic jam near the parking area and it took longer than we thought to get to the event. We even left early. We had to run to the bathroom. We stopped first by some Portapots that were fenced in with a large security guard in front. Apparently they were for the elite and not us. By the time we got out of the bathroom the anthem was playing. There were long lines and I think some people would rather stay in the stinky bathrooms than get soaking wet.

Lisa stayed with me for the first 2 miles. I couldn’t keep up and stayed with the 4:20 pacer group the first half of the race. It was cold (50F), windy, and rainy. My shoes were soaked before the race began. Any loose areas on my wet clothes caused some pretty nasty chafing. But I didn’t feel excessively cold. 

After the halfway point, I had to wait in line for the bathroom. I passed several full ones with lines before I was forced to stop. When I got out, I lost sight of my pacer group. Then I meandered on my own for the next 7 miles without stopping. Then right around the 20 mile mark I lost steam. I did a walking slow jog thing. 

My son texted me that he needed gas in the car. 

Hello, I’m running a marathon here! 

Then my phone died. 

But I couldn’t muster up enough anger to light a fire under my butt.

A man passed me and asked if I was okay. 

I was feeling angry that I didn’t have a big support group. My son was more concerned about the car.  

My husband was there for me every step of he way though. He tried to get me moving. I knew no other spectators. 

I remembered my goal to do a full Ironman. I started to see it slip through my fingers again. 

My arms and legs felt numb. I tried to tell my legs to move faster but they weren’t responding to prompts from my brain. 

My mind felt muddled and I was confused. I kept asking those around me what mile we were on. I felt this strong desire to wander off and lie down in a random person’s yard. 

I smelled bacon frying from an open window of a nearby house. Jerk! I longed for the leftover macaroni and cheese leftover from the night before. I thought bad thoughts towards those who might eat it before I got back. 

I wanted to give up. 

Then I met Hank from Detroit. He seemed kind of mafia to me. We spent the last four miles limping, walking, and running together. 

I finished the marathon beating the times of my first two marathons by over a half an hour. Victory! But still not enough to beat my goal of under 5 hours. I just have to work harder. Lisa finished in a little over 4 hours. 

I had mixed feelings. I majorly beat my old times but I still wanted better.

I went home exhausted. But I had a party to go to. Cindy’s son was getting confirmed. Plus I was flying out in less than 24 hours and didn’t even start to pack. 

After I got home later that evening, I laid in bed feeling feverish. I didn’t want to talk to anyone but didn’t want to be alone. For a few hours, I felt totally relaxed almost delirious. All worried faded from my mind completely. 

I outran my demons that day. 

Thoughts in flight

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I am sitting at the airport waiting for my plane. I deliberately scheduled almost a 3 hour layover because who wants to sprint across the airport the day after a marathon? We already had to switch planes because our scheduled flight was delayed. We would have had 15 minutes to run across the airport to catch our flight if we didn’t switch. I almost laughed. 

The other option was to take a later flight in the opposite direction from our destination. I almost had a panic attack at the thought. Both afternoon flights to Chicago were delayed due to mechanical issues. 

I can tolerate an hour flight unmedicated…even with mechanical issues…on a small plane that once had ashtrays in it…I can’t remember the days that smoking was allowed on a plane. I suppose that would be very bad to be caught smoking on a plane. Almost as bad as having your mug shot hanging up at the post office. 

Did I mention the turbulence?? Apparently most plane crashes happen during take off and landing, not due to turbulence. I decided to educate myself on flying because supposedly education about fears alleviates anxiety. Nope, now I am pretty much afraid the whole flight. I think about things like how can planes see other planes through the clouds.

Then my mind grows darker.. I remember every story, tragedy, TV show, or movie that portrays a plane crash…an air traffic controller not paying attention on the job causing a crash like in Breaking Bad, mechanical failure, a gaggle of geese flying north into the propellers, terrorists. 

Too bad I’m not flying over a deserted tropical island like on Lost. It might be nice to live in seclusion for awhile. 

Yet, despite my fear, I feel captivated by seeing skyscrapers and water from a different perspective from my perch in the sky. 

I wonder if the little oxygen masks ever drop down if we need them. Does anyone ever live to tell us if the safety precautions actually work? 

I think of the scariest caravel ride I’ve been on. I think of falling, fast..I wonder what people think about right before they die. What if they don’t know it is their last breath?

I wonder if the pilot is drunk or high. I search for signs of problems with the plane. What was that sound? Is it me or is the flight attendant looking a little stressed?? 

We had to fly with a different airline when we switched our flight. I had to hobble down to a far terminal. I didn’t see one little train, escalator, or people mover. I hobbled around feeling like I was slowing down traffic. I wore my marathon shirt with fierce pride. 

The next flight I took my anxiety meds. I worried that I would have an allergic reaction and die in flight . 

Then the worry goes away. I don’t clench my husband’s hand quite as hard. 

I imagine floating in the air towards God in the clouds. 

When we land, I don’t worry about getting to our hotel. The methodically planned arrangements bounce off my medicated mind. I walk slow…lethargic…unworried…with a heavy lead marathon limp. 

Somehow we arrive safely to our destination the day after the marathon. 

The third time’s the charm? Right??

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The terror is starting to set in. This weekend I will be running my third marathon. Seriously, at this point, I want to run away. I feel discouraged. I’m having some doubt.

There will be no excuses this time. I am healthy. The weather conditions look absolutely ideal for running. It should be cloudy, dry, and cool.

Last month was the first race of the season. I did an 18 mile trail run with my cousin out of state. I was satisfied with how it went. My cousin was going to join me for this marathon, but due to injury he had to cancel out. I feel disappointment. I had a lot of fun things planned for the weekend besides the marathon.

Now I will be running with Lisa. This is her second marathon. She finished her first in just over 4 hours along with our other friend Cori. I had the expectation on myself that I would complete my first marathon with a similar time. I finished my first half in a little over 2 hours. A marathon should just be double the time, right?? Nope, not for me.

I was injured on my first marathon. I rolled my ankle a couple weeks before the event and still had a little pain. After 26.2 miles of pounding, I was in rough shape and ended in 6 hours. My 2nd marathon, I was afraid. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of pushing it. It was hot that day, very hot. I ended in 6 hours.

This time the weather conditions are ideal, I am injury free, and there are no excuses.

But I am afraid, very afraid. I am afraid that I am going to fail.

You might be asking yourself…how can any marathon runner be a failure?

I want more for myself…I have goals..I want to compete in a full Ironman by the time I am 45. If I don’t do well this time, there is no way that I will be able to make the time limit for the Ironman. This race is going to make it or break it for me. It will be the deciding factor for future races.

I won’t be making up time lost on running in the swimming or biking department. Running is my strong suit. I can finish a shorter race in a pretty impressive time.

I am a beginning swimmer. I am just learning how to do the breast stroke. Sometimes after finishing my swimming class I am full of confidence, but most of the time I am not.

Can I really do this?? How am I going to feel if I fail in my own eyes?

Everyone around me has been very encouraging. Most people think that I am crazy. This is just the crazy that I allow people to see on the outside of me. But you, my followers and friends, really get to see the full picture. Lol.

As you look in as a spectator of the event, you will see an outward struggle for endurance. But inwardly, I want to outrun my demons. I want to conquer the feeling of not being good enough. I want to be a stronger person. I want to succeed. It’s the inward fight that requires so much more stamina.

The third time is the charm. Right??IMG_0579

On being a mother, their mother

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I had a pretty low key Mother’s Day. That’s the way I wanted it. The last thing I wanted was to take my teens somewhere they didn’t want to be surrounded by hordes of whining little kids. Been there, done that…

Instead, Paul grilled ribs and we played yard games.

My mom stopped by with Matt for awhile. He is slowly starting to get better. Now the doctors think he may have had a virus. No one really knows for sure..but he is starting to get better which is all that matters. I was worried there for awhile.

My daughter came home from college for the summer. It seems like yesterday that I told you I was dropping her off. I can’t believe the year went by so fast.

My baby turned 14 a few days ago. We had her last middle school choir concert. Soon she will be starting high school. The first of the lasts for her, the last of the firsts for us.

Time seems to be whirling by fast for the young folks, but here I am still the same.

At church on Sunday, we decided to sponsor a boy from Africa. He looked so skinny and sad that we turned in the money pretty quickly. The paperwork said that he is an average student. My son is pretty happy that I will now be nagging someone else about grades.

My son wants to get a motorcycle. He will be 17 next month. You better get your grades up son! If I let him get his temps now, maybe he will develop good habits. If I make him wait until 18, he might just say that he is an adult and can do what he wants…blah, blah, blah..

Even though my kids are all teens now, they still keep me on my feet.

But I am happy to be a mother, their mother.

 

 

A special (needs) Mother’s Day

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Last weekend I told you that my mom left early before she could celebrate my son’s accomplishments at state by going out to eat with us.

What I didn’t tell you was by the time she got home my brother Matt was sick. He was sick enough to lose 9 lbs in less than a week. He couldn’t keep down any food. He was also having involuntary movement of his jaw. He was anxious and restless without much sleep.

My mom scheduled a doctor appointment for Matt after he was sick for several days without improving. The doctor thought that he was going through withdrawal.

Last month Matt’s liver was showing signs of stress so it was decided that he would go off of his anti-psychotic meds that he was on for almost 20 years.

Apparently his psychiatrist took him off his medication too fast. Then he retired and moved to Florida without a replacement.

I feel really sad about everything that happened over this past week, not just for my brother but for my mother too.

I really want to spend Mother’s Day with my mom tomorrow but it seems like she is too busy mothering.

Is it selfish of me to want my mother to myself? To want her to fully participate in my kids events?? Should I want that when my brother needs her so much more??

When I was on speaker phone with my mom a few days ago, I could hear Matt throwing up in the background. I could hear the pain in my mom’s voice.

To be honest, I just want to run away from the whole situation..

I want to be able to spend the day with my mom tomorrow, but at this point I am not sure what is going to happen..

Sometimes I even feel guilty for wanting my mom’s time.

Mother’s Day is the least of her concerns right now, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it to be special for her…and not in the special needs kind of way..

What I truly want for Mother’s Day

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What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Baby, I want to hold your tiny hand in mine one more time.

I want to gather you back into the safety of my nest.

I want to be able to kiss your owwies and take away your pain.

I want you to still think that I have all of the answers and that the world is a good and magical place.

I want to sit you on my lap and read your favorite stories…I can’t seem to remember the day it all ended.

I want to laugh off the people that say it goes by so fast as I hold a crying baby in my arms.

What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Mother, I want to see the excitement in your eyes as I give you my scribbles on a piece of pink construction paper.

I want to see the beauty of your young face and the natural color of your hair. I don’t want to see signs of you slipping away from me.

I don’t want to think that this could be our last year together like last year was for my husband’s mother.

I want to think that the little things I do or say give you lasting happiness more than flowers or a card someone else wrote on this one day of the year.

What I truly want for Mother’s Day…

Grandma, how I long to hear your voice again…to hear you sing like a bird…to tell you that you gave my daughter your gift. I want you to fully understand the influence you have had on my life and how that impacted my children.

I want to smell fresh cookies as I walk into your house and know that you made a special batch just for me.

I want you to answer the phone when I call.

I long to see your house again, the way it was before the new people moved in.

I want to smell your sweet perfume, even the scent that remains in the half empty bottle is beginning to fade.

I wish you could walk alongside of me on this journey again..

This is what I truly want for Mother’s Day.

The little waves that rock my boat

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I don’t feel much like writing today. I have been feeling somewhat down and unsettled lately. I’m not even sure why.

Why does it seem that when I lack motivation the normal everyday things seem twice as hard to do and half as enjoyable?

The weekend started out good. Friday night I fell asleep watching a movie. Apparently my body’s idea of relaxing is falling asleep. I also argued with my son that he needed to spend the night at home instead of at his friend’s since he was performing at state the next day.

Saturday my son performed wonderfully by playing a very difficult band solo at state and receiving a perfect score. After playing, the judge asked him if he thought about music as a future career.

It wouldn’t be our first child to receive a perfect score at state and decide to go into music. Oh, just what I need two unemployment musicians living in our basement. I did my part of trying to talk them out of it..LOL. It’s exciting to see them perform, to see where it might take them..

Then there is child number 3. She dropped out of band this year. She is starting to feel pressure from everyone to live up to her siblings’ success in music. She laments over being average.

Friday night I called my mom to see if she was going to watch Alex at state. Of course, the day before is too early to tell which way the wind is blowing and make a decision about whether or not to go. When I called my mom she was in crisis mode. Someone new is working at the group home and neglected to fill my brother’s prescription before he went home for the weekend. My mom went to pick Matt up and was notified of this 5 minutes before the pharmacy closed.

My mom did end up going along to state. She was my back up recorder of the performance. Good thing since my phone crapped out and decided not to record anymore after about a minute. I wanted to take my son’s instrument and smash my phone but that would be rather distracting.

After Alex performed at state, we decided to take him out to eat at the restaurant of his choice. We had a group going including Alex, our youngest Arabella, my husband Paul, his step-dad Darryl, my mom, and the accompanist. For our large group, we had to wait awhile for our table. My mom left right away stating she had to give Matt his medication and feed him. We all wanted her to stay. But no one else could take care of Matt like she can, not even my dad who stayed home with Matt, so she left.

I felt a little sad that she left. I watched Darryl and the accompanist laugh and have fun and thought that it should be my mom too. She shouldn’t be tied down for life.

Maybe that is the point that everything ended for me.

I felt hurt that my mom left. I took everything personally that people said to me.

My husband and son teased me about hanging towels on the clothes line. They don’t like their towels stiff, but I do. I was probably overreacting, but their comments upset me. It made me feel unappreciated. I felt like they wanted me to change the way I do things which I refuse to do. I find myself to be just as stubborn, stiff, and unbending as the towels.

Things spiraled down from there.

It is hard to live in a house where everyone knows my weaknesses. I am a bit of a control freak. I already told you that I have this ‘rule’ to turn the lights off in every room after I leave it. Sometimes people will do things to bother me like leave the lights on in an empty room or turn the lights on after I turn them off.

Why should I be allowed to control the lights in a house other people live in?

How can I remain calm in life’s big storms and still let little waves rock my boat?

It’s ridiculous I know…The meaningless things that I do to feel like I have an iota of control over my life. My crazy rules helped me through times of chaos and discord. I can’t seem to let go now even though I don’t need them anymore. Taking the little bit of control I have away from me or complaining about the stubborn way I do things really bothers me.

Who wouldn’t like a lady with a laundry fetish?

What they don’t realize is when they take my security blanket of control away from me I feel like I am once again that frightened little girl. No one seems to understand. I barely understand it myself.

Will I let my relationships get wrecked over lights and laundry?? Probably not, I can’t even fathom why it would bother me so much.

 

Life on the high C’s

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I spent the last couple of days in supervisor training for work. For the class, we took the DISC personality assessment.

If you are not familiar with it, it goes a little like this. The D’s are the dominant type, that is why the D is the first letter on the assessment. The I’s are second because they sold the idea that they should be. They are the chatty, loud, and persuasive type. The S’s are the agreeable people, they are happy being wherever you put them because they are chill. Then the best is saved for last, the C’s (you know where I rank). The C’s are the type that follows rules and makes sure things are done right.

I am pretty sure that I was raised by two high S’s. You would think that it was an incredibly peaceful environment almost zen like. Sometimes I wonder what my parents were like before I was born. Did they sit around meditating for hours in perfect harmony? I’s sure that all fell apart after I was born. Then within the next 5 years my three younger brothers were born. The second born child, Matt, is severely autistic and was violent at times.

What happened to the strong S’s then? What happened to the peaceful people that went wherever the wind would blow them?

My dad shut down completely. He became depressed and silent. When the silence became too loud for him, he would roar. Then he would retreat into silence once more.

My mother turned her gentle supportive good-natured self into a D. It was unnatural. She hated it. She had to become forceful and direct. She confronted people. She became the ferocious mother bear with an injured cub. I feel like through this she really lost who she was because her hand in life forced her to be someone she was not.

Maybe it is no surprise that I am a high CD…if I were to break it down I am probably 80% C and 20% D.

To tell you the truth, sometimes I try to disguise myself as a S. Growing up in a house of S’s sure makes it easy to do. I know the language even though it is not my own. I even own a wide variety of bohemian clothing. Sometimes I pretend to be someone I am not so I don’t scare people off right away.

Seriously, who likes a high C or a CD mix? Who likes the rule follower?? Who? Oh, and I don’t follow just any rules. I certainly don’t set my cruise control at 55 mph in a 55 zone. Seriously, I don’t want to be controlled by cruise control! The D in me always urges me to drive faster. I don’t have time to drive slow!

I follow my own rules. It is very important to me that everyone in the house turns off the lights if they leave the room. Did you turn off the lights? Sinner! You are wasting electricity. My husband says, “Alissa, how much electricity do you think your hot tub uses?”

How many people like the blunt, direct truth delivered sometimes without tact? Who likes a stubborn rigid all or nothing thinker?

How many people like it when I clean up after them when they are not done eating or using an item?? Oh, I won’t accept any help either because I am the only one that does things right. Then I get mad that no one helps me.

How does it feel to walk with mud on your shoes in a cleaning freak’s house? How does it feel to watch your neighbor run 20 miles around the neighborhood on a Saturday morning while you watch TV in your pj’s? Does it make you feel just a little bad about yourself?

I continuously have a harsh task master in my head chanting the mantra ‘Get it done! Get it done! Get it done!’ at all times. I can’t sit still without thinking about the things that I need to do.

I never miss a workout when I just don’t feel like it. My calendar is booked through October.

Sometimes I am as jealous of your ability to relax as you are of my drive to accomplish challenging tasks.

My intensity, my discipline, my drive sometimes repels more people than it attracts.

Good thing for my sense of humor!

That’s my real life navigating as a high C.

I absolutely love being me!