Summa, Summa, Summatime...

Every year, in May, I start to fantasize about the summer months. As a teacher-mom, summers are my survival mode. I begin to comprise a fantasy about cleaning out the garage, getting rested up, days on the lake, books to read, and most importantly: tons of quality time with my sweet girl. However, I am married to a wonderful youth pastor who is also a soccer coach. Essentially, all things family-wise must be completed by the last week of July because the first week of August means that my life is occupied by finding the rogue sock in the car that is making it smell like a dead rat. And rotten milk. And wet dog. You get the picture.

My first week off of school was a lot of catch-up around the house and getting ready for the beach. (What a great way to start the summer!) The beach was awesome with my parents, brother and Nannie. We headed to the "West Virginia Beach" of Myrtle. Nina was big enough this year to enjoy all aspects of the beach, but her favorite was definitely the pool. We stayed at the same hotel when she was 11 months old and I was overcome with how much she had grown since we were there last!

For several years now, I have been struggling with horrible sinus infections (mostly continuous). After enduring allergy shots for over a year, with little improvement, my doctor ordered a CT scan which revealed that my sinuses were basically swollen shut. While at the beach, the doctor called and scheduled my surgery for two days after we returned from the beach. It was a surgery I was deeply dreading (both physically and financially), but was so excited to not feel sick all of the time. Surgery went well and ended in an unexpected repair of my septum. It was a 3 week recovery and those of you who know me, know that it was a horrible 3 weeks for Lee, too. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep me still?!)

Speaking of, four days after surgery, we were scheduled to be at the church camp that we all love so dearly for two weeks (1 week for the week that Lee is the director and 1 week for the week my dad is the director). Recovery at Cowen wasn't an easy task, but a task I was ready to take on. Grandparents kept Nina for a few days since I wasn't allowed to lift more than 10 pounds. Many naps and lots of pain meds later, Nina was able to come to camp (Definitely not her first time, but the first time she was cognoscente as to what was going on). She has fallen in love with a place so so near and dear to our hearts (The place where we met, got engaged, and lived for the first year of our marriage).

  Two weeks was awesome, but so so exhausting. (Did I mention I had surgery four days before going?!) A few days of rest, laundry, and pretending to be a normal family in the summer (What is normal?!) Lee headed off to Cedar Point with the youth kids and I soaked up a few last days with my Beanie before heading to Alaska for an extra special wedding (Alaska has its own post: coming soon). Until this point, I had never been apart from her for longer than 3 nights and that was due to surgery. Alaska would be for five nights. I felt similar to the way I felt when I went back to work after maternity leave. However, with Nina going through the "only my mommy can do anything" stage, I knew it would be good for her, her daddy, and darn-it, momma needed a break! We both did great and were so excited to be back together (Reunited and it feels so good...)

So, after hardly being home all summer, luckily, soccer season has forced us to finally be home and pretend to be a normal family (Did anyone ever define "normal" for me?!)

I'm sure in the next few weeks, Lee and I will say what we ALWAYS say in August "Next year, we won't schedule our summer so full." But sans surgery, it has been a pretty great few months!

Planes, planes, and deep thoughts

As a child, we had family friends that were as close as family. We ate dinner together at LEAST every Sunday, did beach trips, trips to the circuses, countless overnights, games of spotlight, dangerous home displays of fireworks... Best friends. And there were like 30 of them.

In this family, was a girl that was almost exactly 9 months younger than I am, Ashley. When we're talking best friends, y'all, we had the sparkly hair ties, friendship bracelets, the half-heart best friends necklace from Claire's, countless trips together, convincing fantasies of marrying a New Kid on the Block (luckily, I always wanted to marry Joe and she wanted to marry Jordan. It was more simple that way.)

At my seventh birthday party, I decided I wanted to do "Dress Like Your Mother" birthday party. This was in the middle of the dance aerobics phase, and my momma loved her some Jane Fonda. I came adorned in my leotard and leg warmers (why did they need leg warmers anyway?! I sweat like a hog during a dance party. I'm sorry "aerobics")

(Do hogs sweat??)

Ashley came in an adorable purple dress with yellow trim and had a huge bed pillow strapped on to her stomach, because at this point, her momma was about 52 weeks pregnant. While we were having cake, Ashley's Granny came through our front door and said, "Ashley, let's go! Your mom is having the baby!" A beautiful girl, Kristen Bryce was born. 

I'll save you many stories of dirty diapers, obsessions with Barney and the movie Prancer (or "Pwancer" as Kris called it) and stories of the baby sister I never had, but for the next few days, I will tell you about where we are today. 

This morning at o' dark thirty, Lee and I hopped in the car, in a monsoon of a rainstorm on (in by best Paul Revere voice) "The Boy Scouts are leaving" day to take me to the airport. After a few hops of flights an layovers, mom, dad, and I are currently soaring over the Alaskan mountains to go to Kristen's wedding. 

Kristen is a graduate student in AK and my dad will be the officiant for the ceremony. 

Today's flyings have been relatively uneventful (the way I like it) including, but not limited to:

- Some car time with my hubby who got back from an amusement park trip worn the youth at midnight last night. 

- A Tudor's Peppi biscuit. (Don't listen to Dewayne Chapman, They're amazing. 

- Absolutely nothing fun happening in Detroit

- An incredible lunch at a French bakery that had a side greens salad (VEGETABLES?! In an airport?!?!) and a curry chicken salad on a croissant 

And I would be lying if I didn't admit my purchase of a chocolate croissant (imagine my beautiful French accent)

The flight from Minneapolis to Anchorage has been long but not miserable. 

(Forgive my face squish resulting in 30 chins)

I have occupied myself by alternating between 3 awesome reads:

- The Boston Marathon edition of Runner's World 

My mind is completely blown by this issue and completely inspired. I think it is time I schedule a few road races!

- Cutting the Sweet with the Salty by Sophie Hudson. Such a hilarious book about growing up in the Deep South. A must read in my opinion (it's on Kindle. So, if you see a picture of the book, it is because I remembered to take one once I got back to phone service)

- No Other Gods by Kelly Minter. I'm only 30 pages in, but Kelly's insight, interpretation of scripture, and communication is preparing my heart for some awesome God time in the next bit of time in my life. So excited. 

Here are a few pics of us coming into Alaska!

More to come!!

(Whisper a prayer for me. This is the longest I've been away from Nina and I continue to ugly face cry over missing her already)

A Run to Remember

In 2009, our church took a group of women to Gasaway Baptist Church for a Beth Moore simulcast. We took a group of women in the church van (because, let's admit it: it's just more fun that way) and there was a woman with us I had never met before. During the weekend, I came to find out that her name was Melissa, she was the mother of two daughters (one of which had Trisomy 18), and that she was legally blind. She was relatively quiet, but we felt like she belonged with us. 

Several weeks later, I started an in-home Bible study, on Saturday mornings (what were we thinking?!) where we studied "Breaking Free". I came to hear about the marvel of my friend, super woman. Melissa would awake every morning at 4:30 to begin getting ready to feed Julia. She required medicine before eating, was fed with a syringe, and had to remain upright for a while after her meals. She required breathing treatments, chest physical therapy, and never turned down a good cuddle. Melissa would spend around 9 hours a day showering love and careful care on her sweet firstborn. Even though Julia was never able to communicate, we lived for the rare smiles and sweet eye contact (and those curls!! Loved her curls). 

Since our first meeting, in 2009, Melissa and her family have become some of our dearest and best family friends. When I was awarded (sarcasm) the gift of bed rest when I was pregnant, Melissa occupied me with a nearly continual string of text messages for the whole six weeks. In 2010, our Nina inspired to have the crazy, wild man, Elliot in 2011. (The story behind Melissa telling me she was expecting was just too precious. It included a sausage biscuit, a smiling 3 month old, and me dancing. Kind of like a modern day John the Baptist leaping in the womb story. But with a biscuit. And not our Savior... Anyway...)

This past January, our sweet Julia went to be with Jesus and was able to get reprieve from all of her earthly ailments. She truly was a miracle when only given 3-6 months to live at birth, she was able to spend 16 1/2 years spreading joy to us lucky folks here. Here is a pic of Nina and "Hoolie" as Nina loved to call her.

(I nearly cropped the photo, but was overwhelmed by Elliot's adorableness and Cami's creepiness. And the fact that Brad and Lee are completely unmoved by either. Due to Julia's suppressed immune system and Nina being a grubby toddler, I rarely let her touch Julia's hands. I must have been a slow mover that day, bc she is totally sneaking a hand-hold there)

Today, we ran the Race to Remember 5K in honor of our sweet girl. Melissa started training early and worked through asthma attacks to make it happen. We had more than 30 people get together to run and walk to show our love for Julia and our support for Brad, Melissa, Cami, and Elliot. 

There were a ton of awards given out (Even Brad got one for walking. And he walked with our friend, Yancy, who had a backpack full of peanut butter cookies and a thermos of coffee. Serious competitors here, people. Serious.) Besides bookoos of individual awards (I got second in my age division to my dentist. Probably smart that I didn't beat her since she has sharp instruments in my mouth), our group won 1st for most participants and 1st overall team score. 

Here are the trophies on the Dorsey's mantel 

Here is Melissa finishing her first 5K (that she worked super hard to accomplish) and our friend, Marlo who was her running coach! (Look how cute their shoes are!)

So proud of my friend and loved being with people who loved our Jules! Miss you, sweet girl! 

Team Julia! We run for those who can't!

The knoxhills half-marathon

Well, I did it. I ran my first half-marathon. And I loved it. This past weekend, Lee and I took off my old stomping grounds of Knoxville, TN starting at World's Fair Park, winding through campus, past the Torchbearer, along the TN river, through the old, gorgeous Cherokee neighborhood, along a covered trail path, back through campus and ending on the football field. Seriously, could they make a half-marathon more catered to me?! (I mean, maybe if they gave you a cup of coffee instead of energy gel. That would be amazing. Maybe we should work on that.)

Saturday, we headed to the runners' expo to pick up our race packets and to shop around. While there, I saw a shirt that said "The Knox hills marathon". Many people warned us that the Knoxville course was very hilly. We politely thanked them, then went on to say "We've been training in Summersville! It seriously can't be that bad!" We laughed at the shirt and went on to explore downtown. (Which has really turned super fun! When I was there, it was nothing more than some swanky hotels, an art museum, and a bunch of banks. Now, it has boutiques, theaters, cafés, restaurants, and on Saturday, had a sidewalk chalk competition! Where was that 8 years ago?!)

Saturday evening, we had dinner with one of my best friends, Rachel, and her family. Our kids hadn't met each other before, so it was a super sweet moment for us. (But we were too busy wrangling kids to take a picture.)

Sunday, I woke up with a pit in my stomach. I did NOT want to do this. After I ate and had my coffee, I realized it was time to get dressed. The nausea grew. We headed downtown to the start line and saw all of the people (7,500 total runners for all of the races) and got more dreadful. We immediately hopped in line for the portapotty and I began to appreciate what challenges most people had to endure to be there that morning. The start times were the same for the half and the full, so I was surrounded by people who were excited and nervous. Some wearing wacky outfits, some wearing shirts for an organization or a cause, many taped up and wearing braces. For most of us, the start line was months before and the finish line was simply showing up to the start line.

Once the race started, the excitement was everywhere. The UT band was our send off and we were off and running! With water stops and portapotties every 2 miles, I was wondering where these people were when I was training?! As we went through an old neighborhood, encouragement signs were everywhere. My favorite read "You can't quit! You're not the pope!"

We had driven the course the day before and were sure that the "hills" were merely "inclines" an we'd be fine until mile 11. I quickly laughed at this philosophy as we climbed hills most of the race and realized that "Knox hills" was a well-earned name for this course!

Between miles 8 and 9, a familiar pain that I experienced on my 11 mile run sprang up into my right hip. I stopped several times to stretch, but was getting little relief. As the race progressed, a blister formed on my left foot from trying to compensate for the pain on my right. At this point, my times were slowing and I knew I was going to miss my 2:15 goal, but knew if I could run through the pain, I could not exceed my ceiling of 2:30. In the middle of my 9th mile, I looked at my watch and knew that Lee (if finishing in his projected time) should be crossing the finish line (an impressive 1:45:57!), and this gave me a push. I was close. Really close.

I had my playlist on "shuffle" and was wishing I could have arranged my songs before the race started. As I was entering my 12th mile, God decided to show off and "Whom Shall I Fear?" began to play. It was the pinnacle. Tears steamed down my face as I began to not think about what others had done to come this far, but what God did in my life the last 12 weeks of training and all of the time we had together and He was there to carry me to the finish line. A 2:26:21 finish was my official time and I was proud of it. We sat in the stands, eating the awesome food they provided to the finishers as I soaked in the TN sun, enjoyed my family (including my brother), and loved talking to one of my by-chance-not-by-blood sisters and seeing our children interact. Full circle as I am in Neyland stadium.

At the 3:15 mark, we witness a woman l enter the stadium and she literally danced her way to the finish. Why hadn't I thought about that?! (Maybe bc if I had stopped to do that, my hip wouldn't have made it to the end?!) It was the perfect moment to soak in.

I can't wait for my next half (and am not sure I'll ever want to tackle a full). Now, to find a flatter course...

The morning of the race

After the race (and one of my favorite family pics)

The double blister

Even the man running on the medal knew about the hills

After the run, Rachel and I went to explore the new ADPi house (we're totally jealous)

My Deep Running Thoughts

Today, Lee took the senior high youth to Marshall University to explore the campus and attend Baptist Campus Ministries. I left early this morning to take my car for an oil change and Nina to her first dentist appointment (with my mom being nothing short of the best hygienist ever)

(Nina was awesome and was fascinated by Gigi's office)

 The glasses were to help with the bright light, but Nina is convinced it's so she matched Gigi.

The longer I was alone today, the more I had nervous time to think. Those of you who have been subjected to listening to my constant internal dialogue know that when left alone with my thoughts, constant worse-case scenarios play in my mind. And you, my dear readers, are about to be subjected to a censored, less dramatic version of my internal thoughts from today.

(You have been warned. You can stop reading at the cute kid in the dentist's chair)

This Sunday is my first half-marathon. When I set out for this half, I'm not going to lie when I say that I thought I would probably get hurt, fall behind on my training, or develop another sinus infection (only one in the whole 12 week plan; I'm pretty sure that's a new record for me!). Due to Lee's very busy Saturday schedule, most of my Saturday, long runs have been on the treadmill (If it hadn't been for The Bachelor, I would have never gotten through). So, my 10 mile run comes about and I KNOW it's time for me to hit the pavement, not the basement. 10 wasn't too awful. Had some noticeable hip pain from hills, but nothing too bad. Even wore my favorite heels to a wedding that afternoon

  Then 11 mile day came. I left the run thinking it was awful. (I have to walk a lot because I believe I'm more ADD than I ever imagined and non-stop running for 2+ hours just drives me nuts.) I finished it in 2:17. Not bad at all for hoping to be around the 2:15 mark for the race (Especially knowing how much worse the hills are in Summersville than in pretty much anywhere else). Then 12. Dear heavens. I'll spare you the horrible details of walks, boredom, and even stopping off at Dairy Queen. (Just to fill up my water bottles, I swear) I will tell you that there was a ginormous, dead fox on the side of the road that I almost took a picture of (just another excuse to stop running for a bit), but didn't think y'all would want to see a squished road kill with brains and intestines bulging. However, I finished 12 miles in 2:43. Humiliating. I nearly didn't post my run to RunKeeper to hide my slowness.

The panic button had been pushed. Could I finish 13.1? Yes. May my time just disappoint me so much that I wish I hadn't run? It's possible. I immediately start texting my seasoned half-marathon friend, Cindy (who is an English teacher and I know she reads my blog. Totally makes me paranoid about punctuation. When in doubt, use "...") She assured me that nerves are normal and that I'll surprise myself with completing, not in last place (Still not sure I'm buying her on that one). My doubts have continued to get a hold of me and have completely been stalking my brain. But in the last 24 hours, I have been given the best advice yet 1) From my sister-in-law: "This is just you. Not Lee and his times. Just you." Anytime I would start to tell her about my insecurity of running the same race as my husband who has gotten much faster since his first half-marathon, she countered with "Nope. Just you." (Love her.) And from Cindy 2) It's not going to get cancelled. This is going to happen. No backing out now.

This week, I have a few light runs to keep my legs moving, but let them rest. Today, was a 2 mile at race pace and I finished with the Christian battle cry "Whom Shall I Fear" by Chris Tomlin. "I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of angel armies, is always by my side." This week, I am determined to not let the enemy tell me what I can't do. My running time is my favorite worship time (even though I have to keep my hands down while doing long runs. I'm always afraid people will think I'm flagging them down instead of worshiping.). Karen speaks the truth that it isn't about Lee, but it's also not just about me. I have a date with my worship playlist on Sunday morning to prove to Him that I will "present my body as a willing sacrifice, holy and acceptable to Him". (Romans 12:2) That "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13) When I hit the hill on Sunday, at mile 11 and I start to think "I can NOT do this for 2 more miles" I'll remember that 1) that hill has 100' less than the awful hill we run on 19 and 2) "Nothing formed against me shall stand. You hold the whole world in Your hands. I'm holding on to Your promises. You are faithful. You are faithful." Therefore I will be.

Traditions

As a preacher's kid, in a small town, traditions defined so much of our lives. As a kid, it was the traditional things that bothered me. We lived 30 minutes away and were the first and last people at the church. Now, as a pastor's wife at a different church, I find it's the traditions that I find myself missing the most. I think this began in college, when I found myself missing the church's Easter egg hunt and would insist that my dad took me to visit and reminisce about my days where I was so excited to find a smashed, colored-so-much-it-was-brown egg in a field that I could barely stand myself.

Tonight, as I was cooking dinner (when I do most of my thinking), I started to think about the traditions that surround the church I grew up in and this weekend: candlelight communion at Good Friday service, the Easter Egg hunt tomorrow, packing up our bags and the car for a very early Sunday, waking up, getting in the car to the Easter baskets (the Easter bunny was so intuitive to know that our baskets should be delivered to our back seats), Sunrise service, breakfast at my adopted grandma's house (oh yummy ham and biscuits!), Easter Sunday service, and then heading home (exhausted, after already putting in a huge day), eating some lasagna, and crashing for a nap.

(Except for the year we made my mom and Nannie jump on our trampoline. Amazing.)

(You have to nap, so you can stay up for endless hours to watch The Ten Commandments. So let it be written; let it be done)

(I'm still not sure why they show The Sound of Music and The Ten Commandments at Easter?!)

On top of traditions that are set-up, the unintentional things that happen often become a more engrained memory that any others. Like, getting my Granny Mary's house for Easter breakfast and calling one of my best friends, Matthew, to get him up to come eat breakfast with us (it was his real Granny), or Amanda locking her mom's keys in their running van (still laughing), or choosing the ribbon for my Easter hat (oh yes. A pic to come). I don't think my mom, my Ma T, or I will forget the year I had strep throat and tonsillitis at the same time. I'm pretty sure I slept that whole Easter. Or the year we didn't know all of our potatoes were rotten until we sat down at the dinner table and cut into them.

Now, that I'm married to a pastor (who serves in his childhood church), I'm learning that every church has their traditions that are as near and dear to their hearts as ham and egg hunts are to mine. (I've learned that SBC's big tradition is a wonderful Easter breakfast made by the deacons)

The older I get, the more I realize the importance of being involved in a body of believers and embracing the traditions. Was I irritated that we had to be up before the roosters to get to Sunrise service and my folks weren't keen on jamming to my Dolly Parton and Billy Ray Cyrus tape single "Romeo" at 6:15 am??

(Seriously, best. Song. Ever.)

Yes. Do I treasure every memory? Yes. Above all, I feel so blessed to have my memories (and a plethora of Reese's eggs)

There's an app for that!

It seems as if all of my blogs recently (if you can call the last few years "recently") have started with some rendition of "it's been forever since I've blogged, but I'm going to do better" and here we are, nearly a year later and I still haven't done better. However, I have found the holy grail of blogging: an app! Congratulations! You're about to be completely enthralled with my very boring life (and I like it that way)!

This past Christmas, I found a Christmas card that was a picture card, but it had "Top 5 memories of 2012". I could think of at least 5 just for Lee and 20 for Nina (unfortunately, potty training was NOT accomplished that year). Sadly for me, all I could come up with was "a full-time working mom/ pastor's wife who met her goal daily of holding it SOMEWHAT together and neither killing myself, nor innocent bystanders" or "I mastered the art of making a weekly menu" (cue the whistles and confetti).

The good news is, yes, my life can be mundane and totally uneventful, but the truth is that I like it that way. I love the routine of 5:00 am workouts (I MUST be crazy), 3:40 homecomings, playing blocks, cooking dinner, and being in bed by 9:00. I love that the high point of my day is coming upstairs from doing my long run on the treadmill and seeing that Lee built a fire.

So, yes my blog will be about my recipes, my training for my first half-marathon, my women's Bible study, TurboFire, the hilarious and sweet things Nina does (followed by a thousand pics) and the simple things of reading by the fire with Lee.

Stay tuned, sister has an app!