Highway 29

I think everyone is officially ready for my feast week aka my birthday to end.  If I eat one more sweet or fried piece of delicousness I might as well kiss my months of training good bye because I will likely not move from the couch for a very long time.  Needless to say...birthday 29 was pretty epic and I've been thinking all week on how to capture it all into an epic blog. 

Turning 29 was not nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be.  I remember when I turned 25 I was almost depressed.  Hitting 25 meant I could no longer claim I made stupid mistakes because I was young and dumb, and I was no longer in my "early 20's".  I was ever so much more closer to the dreaded 3-0.  Just like that song, "... I remember when 30 was old."  I had been married, working, and doing post-graduate studies work for 3 years.  I joked with my friends in graduate school that I would turn 25 again every year until I turned 30.  This past Tuesday I opened my arms wide and embraced 29 wholeheartedly.  I have had 29 wonderful, blessed, challenging years and I'm looking forward to seeing what God has in store for me in the next 29.  30 is going to be even better.  :) 

This year my birthday fell on a weekday and unlike last year I had an important meeting scheduled for work that night.  Everyone asked if I could take vacation or have someone else cover the meeting, but it just wasn't a responsibility I could blow off.  I took the morning off to basically hang out and do some things that I wanted to do.  I had breakfast with Katie Murray, I did a 4 mile run, had lunch with my mama and brother, took a nap... and maybe most importantly I let all of the stress and anxiety of the past few weeks fall to the wayside.  When it came time for me to head to my meeting I didn't dread going or wish that I was anywhere else but there.  My night was spent with the Board of Directors of the Caswell Co Farm Bureau.  Years ago before I ever dreamed that I would work for the Bureau, this same group of men and women supported me financially and otherwise in most of my high school FFA experiences.  My family was poor.  I didn't play sports, wear namebrand clothes, drive nice new vehicles, and we didn't have money for me to trapise off on school related trips every few months.  Without the support of this Board...and some others... I wouldn't have had many experiences that have totally shaped me and placed me where I am today.  Tuesday night wasn't work... it was going to spend time with a very important portion of my Bureau family...my home folks.  The ones who knew me and supported me before I became their field rep.  They bought me a beautiful cake and we had a smooth meeting.  Other than a bellyache from all of the crazy food I ate that day... I can't remember a time where I felt more blessed and divinely favored.

Caswell Co Farm Bureau Board of Directors and me on the Birthday :)

 

Chicken Cake

Over the years I've had other great birthday experiences.  When I turned 16 I had just competed on the State winning Poultry Judging team for FFA.  My Mama thought it would be fun to put a chicken on my birthday cake.  The lady who baked and decorated my cake gave my chicken 4 legs because drumsticks were sold in packs of 4 at Food Lion.  We laughed and laughed for years about that.  When I turned 18 my suitemates put flyers all over NCSU campus about me turning legal.  At 26 my office wife and company (Michael Coley) seran wrapped my desk and filled it with balloons.  Some of the best birthday celebrations I've had were not actually held on my birthday.  Several birthdays have been celebrated at National FFA Convention, the State Fair, group dinners, coffee dates, lunches, and get togethers.  For the past 2 years, my office wife has come up the weekend after my birthday and we've had family dinner with my Mikey, Mama, and Phillip. After 2 years of skyping on birthdays my boo was here to join this year too. My family will hold it's annual Octoberfest next weekend to celebrate all of the October birthdays with cake, skeet shooting, maybe a little beer, brunswick stew, and BBQ.   

Suites on my 18th Birthday :)

Epic little Birthday prank by my grad school fam year 26!

Every year people give me junk about not knowing what to get me as a gift.  I'm here to tell you that after 29 years the common theme is cake and quality time with the people I love.  I received so many, many Facebook posts, phone calls, texts, tweets, messages, and e-mails from people wishing me well throughout the day. You have no idea how much those sentiments mean to me.  Those are the only gifts I could ask, want, or hope for.  No jeans, earrings, gadgets, thumping music, expensive dinners, or fabulous trips can compare to the love and memories I've been blessed with.  Thank you :)

Year 29...best yet!

       

Taking Inventory

Guess what... I'm procrastinating.  Procrastinating from writing mounds of thank you notes.  I've already penned 20 and have at least 20 more to go...oh thank you notes.  I've been putting off writing the thank you cards for the family and friends that brought food, made a memorial contribution, sent warm thoughts, visited, or prayed for us through Mikey's mama's illness and death.  There isn't a how-to manual to help you prepare for the necessary etiquette that should take place when an immediate family member dies.  I've never been much on etiquette anyway but I've learned that in the traditional backwood south if there is a wedding or a death then it's mostly up to the women to take care of writing the thank you's and taking care of the formalities.  I've spent more than one night leading up to and during the week of Mrs. Johnson's death.... sitting at the the kitchen table crying because I feel like such a kid and that no one should have to face such a thing... especially my sweet sensitive husband.  And I cried over how blessed we both are to have God given amazing friends and family to support us through something like this. So why can't I get the gumption to write these cards?  I'm just not sure.

Approximately a week after we put Mike's mama to rest I was standing at the front of a church serving as a witness as a dear friend pledged her life to a great man in the presence of God and His church.  We were all wearing our cowgirl boots...the most comfortable shoes I've ever had for a wedding.  None of the dresses matched...no tuxes...nothing about the ceremony was excessive but everything was laced with divine love.

All these life events...coupled with multiple surprise pregnancy announcements... have made me want to stop and take inventory.  Yesterday as we drove home from my office wife's wedding I had 8 long hours to reflect about pretty much everything.  I thought about how often in the past 4-5 months I can only see how things are going wrong, how people have slighted me or someone I care about, how hurt I am over things that happened in the past, how people have changed and our relationship is no longer the same...and it hit me that there was a common theme... the word "I" and that my friends is a problem.

I've been taking a disciple class on Monday mornings with a group of women at church.  I am the youngest lady in the class but you would never be able to tell by the way the other ladies act towards me.  They are so inclusive and encouraging and being with them is such a blessing.  We happen to be studying the Holy Spirit and one thing I've learned is that the Holy Spirit can not fill me up and use me if I am already full of myself.  I can't be the wife, family member, and friend that I want to be and God intends me to be if all I can focus on is myself and my self righteousness.  I used to think that I was selfless and that when bad things happened or people hurt my feelings I was strong enough to handle the pain and pressure and move forward.  After multiple face plants, tears, blessings, and finally in big bold print at study hour I am learning that the strength to move forward and to truly love others is only through the power of the Spirit.  As we study about being bold in our witness to others I have to say that the love, support, and kindness of the many people... especially my closest friends and family... and all others that I've visited with whether it was in the memorial line or in the wedding receiving line, have been a testimony to His divine love and and truly an inspiration for me to want to be better than I am.                

An uncomfortable subject...

If you're faint of heart or do not like to deal with unpleasant thoughts go ahead and change channels.  This blog may be a tough read, but probably not as tough as it is to write.  Few people want to talk about what they would do if they were faced with their demise or the loss of someone they love.  Death is a given in our lives like breathing or eating or any other mundane thing that we may take for granted but it doesn't make for pleasant dinner conversation does it?  

Mike's mama has had an extremely difficult year.  They unexpectedly found cancer growing in her uterus right before Christmas and she immediately underwent a complete hysterectomy and began preventative radiation treatments.  Up until that point, she had served as the caretaker for Mike's dad who has been in fairly poor health since Mike was in college.  He has been in and out of the hospital since July, 2012 with heart issues in addition to dealing with the after effects of a transplanted kidney and liver.  She is a tough lady!  I've never thought she particularly cared for me...I stole her only child...her baby boy!! That being said...I've never developed false hope that we would become big buddies and go shopping together or trade recipes or do things together but in rare moments of intimacy she confided in me about things that happened in the past and how she was never one to be warm and fuzzy but she loved me anyway.  She definitely has never held back about how I'm not popping out any grandchildren for her!! Since her surgery Mike and I have visited with her twice and she seemed ok until we received news that she was in the hospital for an emergency procedure to open a blockage in an artery that runs to her brain.  She came home but just this week was put back in due to dehydration which come to find out was caused by a tumor pressing on her colon and making her not want to eat or drink.  My wifey put it best, "How much can one person go through?"

Mrs. Johnson is absolutely not one of the most positive people in the world so she has already begun to make plans for the what if's that no one wants to talk about, which is a logical step I guess.  This is what kills me... She doesn't want a funeral or a service.  She just wants to be cremated and be done. No friends or family or worship.  That's it....Done.

When Mike told me this I was pretty taken aback.  My first question was why? I get that your life house has expired...you're no longer there... but I guess part of me thinks that there should be more closure than that.  Your final send off isn't exactly designed for your enjoyment.  It's more to to allow other people to come pay their last respects and show love and support to your family.  I know there will be people that read this and say that it's none of my business...these are HER wishes and not Lendy's wishes, and I'm sure she has her reasons for this decision.  Regardless it completely unnerved me.  Her life...which is still not over btw....has made a difference to countless Kindergartners that she helped color and learn how to count in the classroom.  She is known throughout the community, has friends, and of course her family.  Her life has made a contribution and it deserves some form of public acknowledgement if things do not work out in my not so humble opinion.  I have to say it here because I don't have the guts to tell her in person...I think she could still take me if she wanted to.  Doesn't have to be a blowout bash or sad funeral dirge.  Which while we're here let me just say I want all of y'all to celebrate if something happens to me.  Either celebrate that I've gone to meet my King and any positive things...love, laughter, and fun that we had....celebrate that you're alive and the Lord still has a purpose for you to fulfill....or just come to celebrate the fact that you're rid of me haha...either way.  I told Mike to be sure y'all ate lots of fried food in my honor and to bury me in Pelham next to the train tracks so my body will return back to the red dirt with the trains hollering nearby...exactly how me and multiple generations of my family grew up.      

The prognosis for Mrs. Johnson is seemingly not good.  This tumor is aggressive and her body is weak. Mike and I have faith that we serve a BIG God...one who is bigger than broken bodies and crushed spirits...Eternal and Almighty.  He is going to take care of this situation whether it be physical healing or the ultimate healing.  Then there's the selfish moments with me crying in the corner because I'm weak and I don't know how to respond to the demands in this moment.  Yeah I'm dramatic but it's true.  I told my boo today that I'm a wreck...I'm not mature enough to deal with what is going on and what could be coming ahead.  I have no idea how to comfort Mike who always seems so strong and typically holds me together, and who is also an emotional avoider.  I'm desperately coveting your prayers.  Please pray for Mrs. J and her healing, and wisdom for the doctors that are trying to help her.  Pray for comfort for Mike and his Daddy as they have to face all these what if's and please pray that I will be lead to be the wife that Mike needs me to be in the days ahead no matter what happens.

Antsy August

As a reward for my insane productivity today I am composing a second blog in one day.  I figure that while I have the chance and I can take an extra breath I might as well.

This afternoon I met with the Young Farmer & Rancher (YF&R) program team leader (Shon), the committee chairperson for the NCSU YF&R program, and the two university supervisors to discuss the upcoming schedule of events for our collegiate program.  Collegiate YF&R at NCSU, Mt. Olive College, and NC. A&T are "clubs" designed to tie young people back to agriculture, introduce them to bureau life, and are managed by the team that I serve on at work.  We had a lovely lunch but I must admit that I was distracted the entire time.  We were meeting at a little restaurant in Cameron Village near NCSU campus and with it being the first day of class all I could think about was how badly I wanted to at least walk through Ricks hall.  After lunch I walked over to my fave running store just to look around and then drove over to my favorite coffee shop to work but all I could think about was school.  To be honest I haven't thought much about school since May of 2011.  With the exception of keeping up with my grad school friends much of the research and coursework that I completed is hazy at best.  But today my heart longed to be working on a project or studying for some kind of exam.  I tried to remind myself how much I loathed moodle discussion posts and how much sleep I lost typing out 110 pages of seemingly pointless research, but nothing seemed to dull the ache.

I truly have no desire to go back into a teaching role but I've found myself pondering if there was some kind of course(s) or advanced certification or something I could get hooked into.  An advanced degree at this point in my career wouldn't do me much, if any, good.  While I am appreciative of my agricultural education roots I truly have no desire to pursue doctoral studies in that discipline.  I've thought long and hard about random things...like learning a second language...or becoming a registered parliamentarian.  Go on and laugh... I know it's lame but it's something I'm interested in!!!! I probably should try to get hooked into a church small group or bible study, but with my extremely odd work schedule I couldn't guarantee regular attendance except on certain nights / times.  I need a flexible learning environment.

I was telling someone the other day about how much I love a challenge.  Post-grad school my challenge / hobby became running and travelling for races.  This is still a challenge but now I'm seeking an interesting, intellectual challenge.  One that provides some brain stimuli with a side of socialization. Anybody have some suggestions?      

Built for comfort, not speed...

Skinny jeans versus sweat pants.  A Ferrari versus a mini van.  Ladies and gentlemen after Sunday's triathlon I have discovered that I am built for comfort and not speed.  I would love to tell you that I'm totally accepting of this new self realization but I would be lying to you and to my ego too.  Regardless of whether I'm in denial it's plainly obvious that my natural talents do not lie in the realm of athletics, but I am a darn fine encourage-er and cheerleader.  :) 

Run to the bike Katie Murray!

After the Smile Train triathlon in June I decided I was not going to wallow in annoyance with how frustrated and discouraged I felt in the water.  Just FYI everybody, I do have an ego and I'm guilty of the sin of pride... I decided it was time for me to get over my pride, be an adult, and yep...take a few swimming lessons.  My swim instructor is very encouraging and she actually spends the majority of her time with children so she totally gets my mentality also.  :) After several lessons and lots of practice, I felt ready for Sunday's "short" swim.  I signed up to go at the back of the pack again.  I had no desire to 1.) Embarrass myself... 2.) Hold someone else up because I swim slower than molasses rolling up hill... 3.) Did I mention embarrassing myself? The pool swims are seeded and with 400+ people I knew it would be awhile before my turn in the water.  I spent 30 minutes talking to a lady whose husband was a competitive swimmer but could not bike or run well.  She had wanted to do the triathlon with him but had reservations.  She told me what her fears were and I told her some of mine....it felt good to confess so close to crunch time.  I felt convinced when she left me that she would likely do a sprint triathlon in the next year.  I had a very similar experience when we did the Smile Train.  In the water I took on all 10 laps just trying to stay calm.  Some dude almost knocked me into a wall because he was going the wrong way in MY swim lane.  That's what I get for going at the back with all of the other people (like myself) who do not know what they're doing. 

My Em always says swim like a fish Lendy!

I'll be riding dirty.

Following the swim I had a rather uneventful bike ride.  The course was fairly hilly compared to the flat, smooth greenway that boo and I ride every week.  I passed a girl going up one of the hills and she yelled, "Go on...these hills are going to catch up with you!!" I made sure to wave at her as I passed her on my return back to the transition area.  I honestly couldn't help but laugh.  Neither one of us were setting the world on fire with fabulous speeds...Why be a jerk about it? 

Heather going out on the bike.

 

Number One "clean riding"

Back in the transition area for my run I totally ran by my bike rack and had almost made it to the other side of the area before I realized it.  I felt like a total goob turning around and almost taking people out as I ran back toward my assigned rack.  Smooth...real smooth.  

Again, the run was uneventful.  A guy that I followed on the bike ride...I called him yellow jersey....ran with me most of the way.  Yellow jersey made me think of the Tour de France so I joked the whole way that he should take the lead and run for a little bit while I drafted him.  I finally left yellow jersey and came up on a girl my age that had been walking ahead of us for awhile.  At the base of the hill before the finish I told her I was tired of running in wet socks and she responded back me too.  We ran together to the finish.  I could have out sprinted her at the end...I'm good at picking the pace up at the end... but I just cruised in behind her as her family and friends snapped pictures and cheered her on.  I made sure to smile although I'm hoping they photo shop me out.  I finished in 1 hour and 27 minutes.  Not too shabby for someone who hasn't been working at this for too awful long.    



The real story of the day was my boo and her magically getting seeded as the number 1 swimmer for the triathlon.  She inadvertently entered the correct swim time for the wrong distance.  She didn't lead the race but she still got to be number one for the day.  Number one ended up finishing 3rd overall in our age group which is an excellent accomplishment and I was so excited and proud to be her paparazzi for the day.  Like I said... I'm a much better cheerleader than an athlete.          

3rd overall in 25-29 GET IT

My number one boo haha :)

Taking it to the mattresses....

I have only heard the phrase, "Taking it to the mattresses," used in the 1990's Meg Ryan blockbuster (*sarcasm*) "You've Got Mail." Apparently it's a famous line from one of "The Godfather" movies and it references mafia members hiding somewhere other than at their house. I thought it could also be a great lead in to one of those little novels my mama used to take to the beach. Either way I just ripped it off because I've got an entertaining story and it happens to involve...you guessed it...a mattress.

For the past two days I've been taking one of my team members out into the district to meet with some very important volunteers. Yesterday we drove all over the northern counties and tomorrow we will finish up in the western counties. Today we both had various errands and tasks to complete so we drove separately most of the day. This afternoon we left Durham together and were both headed back to Raleigh on Interstate 85. Meg was right behind me because she's from down east and has no idea what's heads or tails in Durham and traffic was pretty intense. Right before our exit the large box truck directly in front of me slammed on brakes and before I really had time to get the words, "What the..." out of my mouth a full-sized mattress blew around the back of the truck and landed directly in front of me. Now, everything happened in a matter of 3 seconds but just like in those cheap made-for-TV movies time slowed down and I saw myself from the outside processing the situation. My options were to swerve left or right or hit the mattress. With two lanes of traffic on my left and two lanes of traffic on my right at 70 mph it could have / would have been extremely messy. My greatest fear period was that whether I hit it directly or just glanced it that the mattress would throw my truck into another lane of traffic or cause it to flip. Having only driven smaller cars my entire life I totally underestimate how tough and heavy my truck is. If by some luck I drove over the mattress with no issues then it would still likely be right in Meg's path. My options did not seem all that great.

I did what I thought to be the lesser of all the evils and made the decision to hit the mattress. I gripped the steering wheel, sped up a little, and slammed that mattress like a champion. Go big or go home people. I heard it busting all under my truck but the truck never swerved or even bounced really. After actually hitting the mattress my brain sort of began to slip into a haze of fear and relief that is until I heard the distinct sound of metal dragging behind the truck. First thought, the back passenger tire has busted. Everyone on I-85 immediately slowed to a crawl as I gradually took the lap of shame over to a sketchy median. I jumped out of the truck expecting to see my back tires slashed from the metal in the mattress but was quickly surprised to find the mattress was still wedged up under the truck.

Meg pulled in behind me, jumped out, and immediately began to laugh. She had watched everything happen from right behind me. After seeing that I was ok and had only gained a mattress landing gear, she was laughing at the craziness of our situation and at least a little out of relief. Still shaking...I swallowed the huge lump in my throat and I began to laugh too...I was alive, my truck wasn't damaged, and no one else got hurt in the process. Divine favor.

Traffic was whizzing by on either side of us as we tried to pull the twisted metal and stuffing out from under the truck. Meg and I were using all of our weight pulling and pushing with little result. I was debating whether to call the troopers. I've never had a good experience with a trooper so part of me almost just wanted to abandon the truck and just head home. A beat up black truck backed up the exit ramp toward us and this super kind man crawled under my truck and within a few minutes he was able to jerk the mattress out. He even loaded it on the back of his truck saying that he did not want someone else to have the same trouble. I really wanted to hug this guy. All he said before he jumped in his truck was, "There are still good people in the world."

I've been run down for the past week it seems ...my patience has been thin...my feelings have been hurt...the to do list seems never ending. After our little adventure I came home with the weight still on my shoulders, took a nap, and woke up with a song on my heart. We laughed at this story over supper but the fact that this could have a much more serious outcome is impossible to overlook no matter how much I don't want to dwell on it. I'm not afraid to die, but I'm not itching for death to overtake me or to cause harm to anyone intentional or not. It could have happened to anyone out on the road but today I was given a second chance to adjust my attitude and a reminder that there are still good caring people in this world regardless of the hurt others cause and that I need to try to pay that goodness forward. I stopped on the side of the road on the way home from supper and offered a poor runner my rain jacket in a downpour...She waved me off annoyed...I should have realized I was interrupting her pace and keeping her further from getting dry. Gold star for effort right?

Water Woosies

Today has been a less than stellar day...regardless I want to write about something positive, but hopefully not boastful. I need to go ahead and change my blog title to reflect something about running or being active. Several of my posts are about my attempts to become an athlete at age 28. Notice I said, “attempts." Who would read the running blog of a wannabe runner? I'm sure other poser runner people would understand.

In the past 2 weeks I have had 2 people ask me if I was a runner. My first reaction is to laugh...really hard... but somehow I manage to choke back and just smile and say, "Well...I try." Then there's this magical moment of me wondering what about me made them think I was a runner??? Dang do I look in shape?? Neh....

The first lady was a nurse at the allergist. She took my pulse and it was a whopping 46 beats per minute at 9am. She did a double take and quickly asked me if I was a runner. I told her I ran some and she seemed to relax. Apparently people that run are calmer and have lower pulse rates. It's likely because I only drank one cup of coffee that morning and I was technically still asleep. Or I was holding my breath in anticipation of all the needles I was about to be stuck with. Either way.

The second time was this morning when I went for a swim. My blog is my confessional...so here you go people... I am afraid of the water. Not so much of drowning or getting it in my ears or up my nose, but the fact that I struggle as a swimmer and I cannot take failure. I've been working on my swimming since the first triathlon in June. I went ahead and signed up for the second one in August despite my water woosies. Today I was swimming next to this beast of a lady who easily swam like 4 miles and made it look effortless. When I came up for air I just gawked at how easy she made it through the water. I did 35 minutes in the pool and then on my way out she stopped me. "You're a runner aren't you?" My jaw dropped. This crazy athletic woman recognized that I run...OMG!!!! My gold star for the day!! Then she politely informed me that most people that run point their toes down when they swim...big "no no" according to my swim instructor. Dayum.... Come to find out this lady is a certified triathlon coach, has done 3 Ironmans, and is on her way to doing a fourth. That's like 140 miles of swimming, biking, and running people. She confessed to me that her workouts were getting boring but her race was getting closer. She complemented my stroke and breathing...big surprise there... but the biggest thing that struck me was that she held no reservations in telling me that she was 36 when she started training. She also told me she had only been swimming for 8 years. For some odd reason...this gave me hope. I'd really appreciate some prayers over the next week for a strong finish...mainly that I just come out of the water.