San Rafael Classic Triathlon

The 4 of us after our race. I love my Tri fam!

It's the middle of another triathlon season. We've done this for 6 seasons now and every season, we get to do something we haven't done before. This year, for the first time, we were able to do a triathlon where all 4 of us competed!

San Rafael Classic Triathlon is held in Huntington, UT- a tiny little town in central Utah. It just so happens to be the same tiny little town that I grew up in. I did this race once before, back in 2009. That year, I just did the sprint distance because I had an Olympic distance coming up soon after. This year, however, we chose to do the Olympic since we didn't have another tri for 3 weeks.

This race was special to me. My children have never had a chance to see where I grew up. I rarely visit. When we left in 1994, we had no family there. Most of my friends have since moved, and since we were living in Idaho until a year ago, it just didn't seem worth the trip. However, now that we are closer, I wanted a chance to show them where I grew up. It was the icing on the cake that this race also happened to have a junior triathlon that my kids could compete in.

Daniel and I registered for the Olympic distance, along with our good friend Melissa (who grew up in Ferron, a neighboring town. She and I attended the same high school). Two of our other friends, Shari and Sarah, registered for the sprint distance. My two older kids registered for the junior triathlon.

I made plans to meet up with one of my childhood best friends, Melanie (Holdaway) Bernard. While she and I were discussing plans, she reminded me that our other best friend, April, might be coming down, since her husband, Jeff, was interested in competing in the race as well. I got in touch with Jeff and April and was beyond thrilled that Jeff was indeed racing. This meant that April, Melanie and I would be able to get together for the first time since high school. We made plans to meet up after the race on Saturday. April also invited us to stay with them, at her parent's house. I think I spent more time in that house during my teenage years, than I did in my own home. Her parents were like my second parents and I was excited to be able to see them again.

We arrived in Huntington on Friday evening. After checking in for the race and getting our race packets, we spent a little time at the lake. Our kids enjoyed skipping rocks on the beautiful lake, and I was caught up in the childhood memories.

The family skipping rocks on Huntington Lake. I grew up swimming in this lake.

When Jayden saw these Great Danes, he said, "Mom, are those camels?" Love that kid!

Daniel, Jayden and Savannah looking over the lake the night before the race.

It was obvious that our swim would be a beautiful one.

 Later on, we headed over to the Nielson's to get settled for the night. On the way, we drove by my childhood home. I showed it to my kids and told them a few things I thought they might enjoy hearing about. We also drove by my old elementary school, the local grocery store and a few other places that hold fond memories for me. When we arrived at the Nielson's, I was so happy to see Boyd and Maryellen again. They were always so good to me. We spent a little while catching up with April and Jeff and then headed to bed to get some good rest for our race in the morning.

At 5:30am, we got out of bed and headed to the race. The little boys stayed at the house with April and her kids, while her husband Jeff, Daniel and I headed to the race. April brought Mason and Savannah over with her a little later so they could watch some of our race without getting up quite so early.

The race was fantastic. We thoroughly enjoyed the course and felt it was well run and enjoyable. The weather was perfect and the water was amazing. There really was nothing to complain about. Daniel's wave started first. My wave was 5 minutes behind his, and our friends who did the sprint started 10 minutes behind me. It was fun to have the waves so close together because it meant we got to see everyone at some point during the race.

When all was said and done, we couldn't have been happier. Daniel took first in the Clydesdale division. I took first in the Female 30-34 division and 5th overall. Jeff took first in the male 35-39 division. Our Saratoga Springs friends all placed in the top 3 of their divisions as well.

Daniel and I after the race.

Melissa Brown, Sarah Smith, me, and Shari Wycherly- our good friends from Saratoga Springs.

As soon as we were done, we had to rush to get the bikes and transitions set up for Mason and Savannah. They were both nervous and excited. Mason was finally tall enough to ride my road bike instead of his heavy bike. Savannah is still much too small, but she sure looked cute on her pink, shiny bike! Both kids did fantastic. They didn't have the kids divided out by age, which bummed Savannah out (since she knew she couldn't really compete with 17 year old boys), but Dan and I couldn't have been more proud of either of them. Mason ended up coming in 6th overall, which was exciting! There were so many kids this year. They really enjoyed themselves and we enjoyed sharing such a fun race with them.

Savannah coming out of the water- Can you believe that grin?

Mason coming out of the water- he swam strong!

Coming in to T2 after the bike.

Savannah on the very tail end of the run- sprinting to the finish.

After the awards ceremony, we headed back to the Nielson's for some much needed food, showers and rest. Our kids were having the time of their lives playing with the Mower's (April and Jeff's kids). After a little while, I got a message from Melanie that she was on her way over. It's hard to describe how great it felt to have the three of us together again. I moved after our sophomore year of high school and hated leaving them behind. While the move was a positive thing for me, and Idaho quickly became my home, I never replaced April and Melanie. Being together again felt like coming home. I love them both so much.

While there is more of that story to tell, I want to post that in a separate blog, complete with pics from then and now....soooo, that's all the girlfriend reunion talk for now!

Saturday evening, we headed back home. Everyone had a perfect weekend. We enjoyed our time together as a family, as well as catching up with old friends. I am so thankful for a healthy body, a healthy family, and the ability to do these things that we love so much. I am thankful that I can share these things with friends, old and new. It truly was a beautiful weekend.

15 Years

This is the picture that went with our wedding announcement. I only have the teeny tiny file uploaded so it's really poor quality.

May 31st 1997- I woke up with a migraine and took some medicine to help with the pain. Because we had to be to the temple so early in the morning for the 8:30am ceremony, I didn't have time for breakfast.  My dad ran back to the house to get the ring- because I forgot that little detail. The rest of the story has been told many times (how I puked on my dress, how there was a tornado that day...) but as entertaining as that all is, it isn't what matters. That day was the start of everything we have built for the past 15 years, and everything we'll continue building throughout eternity.

A year after we were married- our trip to Lake Powell- May 1998

On May 31st, Daniel and I celebrated our 15 year anniversary. I could write a sappy blog about how amazing it has all been and how perfect everything is, but those who know and love us know that that isn't the reality of how our story has been written. The past 15 years have mirrored our wedding day in so many ways. Not much has been perfect. Sometimes one of us was ready for what was coming next while the other one drug their feet. Sometimes one of us- or both of us- forgot what was important. And yes, there has been plenty of puking ;-)  We've been through some really rough stuff. It's been touch and go for us at times. But here we are, in a great place. We are happy and in love and we have a beautiful family. I love our story. I love it because life isn't always about everything magically falling into place. Sometimes life is about fighting hard for what matters most. And fight we have ;-) We've gotten where we are with blood, sweat, tears, prayer, faith, and a lot of love and hard work- and it has been worth every single minute.

The birth of our first baby- Mason Wade- October 1999

Savannah's blessing day- October 2003

Family picture- December 2003

 

Family picture- June 2005

Looking back and reflecting on the past 15 years- all the good and bad- I would do it again in a second. The beauty of our story far outweighs our struggles. We are surrounded by so many blessings and so much joy. We have never been as happy as we are today. I don't expect the next 15 years to be a cake walk. We're knee deep in kids who will soon be teenagers. We're still going to be us- stubborn, spoiled and completely opposite in every way. We will have good days and bad days, good months and bad months, and most likely, good years and bad years. It is marriage after all. But what I know is this- I married the love of my life and I am incredibly lucky. There is not a person on this earth that I would rather be married to. He makes me laugh every day. He makes me love him more every day. And every time I look into those bright blue eyes, I still get butterflies.  Every memory we have made together is a piece in our own unique story. So while it hasn't been all rainbows and sunshine, it has been OUR story. It is beautiful.

In front of the Emperor's palace in Japan- 2004.

Jaxon's blessing day- Feb 2007

Jayden's birth- June 2008

Daniel, thank you for the past 15 years- and thanks in advance for the next 1,000. Thank you for loving me enough to see through the weaknesses, to stick by me when it's not easy, and to laugh sometimes, even when I'm not funny. Thank you for building a life with me. Thank you for teaching me so many things, and making me a better person. Thank you for trudging with me, hand in hand, through the mud, to the other side, where we have found so much happiness and true joy. We've made it here- together- and I love you with everything I have.

Our family as we are today <3

"This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you"

Curled up on the foot of my bed, I buried my face into my baby blue comforter and sobbed. My heart was broken. I was all of 13 years old, in 8th grade, and I KNEW that this was the boy I wanted to marry. But he had just dumped me. We'd been "dating" all of 2 weeks. He was in high school *swoon* while I was still in junior high and he was SO cute! I'd even held his hand (a first). He dumped me for my neighbor, who was a junior in high school- with a license! How was I supposed to compete with that? And so I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried. After a while, my mother came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. She rubbed my back and tried to comfort me. I don't remember the entire conversation, but I vividly remember this one thing: "Honey, you're heart is going to be broken a lot more times before you find the person you're going to marry." I don't remember if or how I responded, but I remember thinking she was crazy because that boy (the only one I'd ever held hands with- I'd still never been kissed) WAS the one. She knew nothing....

I'm sure it took me all of about 4 days to find a new "boyfriend" and forget the hurt that just a few days earlier had seemed so life altering. Looking back, that boy wouldn't even make the list of "Who's Who in Adolescent Anna's Life". Until I became a mother, I never gave a second thought to what my own mom was feeling at that moment. I know that she could clearly see how insignificant that moment would be in my life, yet it's never easy to see your child hurting.

I don't yet have teenagers. Our big hurts are still limited to "he called me a doodoo face" or "She won't sit by me". And yet, as my children get older, and I slowly see the hurts start to grow, I find myself hurting for them more than they even hurt for themselves.

A few weeks ago, my daughter was invited to a birthday party for one of her sweet friends. She was ecstatic about it. We went out and bought the perfect gift, wrapped it, and made sure everything was ready to go. The night before, we had an unexpected late night with family rolling in from out of town, and then an extremely early morning. I was exhausted and laid down for a few minutes. The next thing I knew, Savannah was shaking me awake, "Mom! My party!" I asked her what time it was and she said it was 10:45. The party had started at 10:00. It was a spa party and they were planning to leave for the salon right at 10. For some reason, my phone had been turned to silent and when I checked it, I had multiple messages from people asking if she was coming, if she needed a ride, etc... She had lost track of time and I had fallen asleep. I tried calling but couldn't reach anyone, so she missed the party entirely. She was slightly bummed. I was a basket case. I felt like a failure as a mother. I knew she wanted to go to this party and I had a hard time saying to myself, "It's just a party." And yet, by mid-afternoon, she was right as rain. Why did I let it bother me so much more than it bothered her?

Today, Mason stayed home from school, sick. He had been running a fever and not feeling well for a few days. When I woke up this morning, I took one look at him and knew he should probably stay home. He was all dressed and ready, but it was apparent that he needed to rest. I talked him in to staying home one more day. About 9:15, I got a call from his teacher. She asked how he was doing. I told her he was still sick. She said she was calling because today was the school spelling bee. Mason had won his class spelling bee and qualified for this one. He had been so excited about it, but was unsure what day it was on. I knew he wasn't going to want to miss out, so I asked her to hold on while I checked with him to see if he wanted to go to school just for the spelling bee. As adamantly as he could, he said yes, he wanted to be there. I let her know I would run him right up. We were out the door in 5 minutes flat and he was in her classroom in less than 10 minutes. However, I got a call 20 minutes or so later saying he had arrived too late. They had begun giving instructions already and would not allow him in. Holding back my own tears, I told him I would be right up to get him. My heart hurt for him. I knew how much it would have meant to him to do well. It was something he had been looking forward to. I made plans in my head as to what I would say to make it better for him. I told myself to plaster a smile on and make as light of it as I could to make it easier for him. When I pulled up to the school, he was waiting on the curb. As he hopped in the car, I asked him what happened. He told me, without the least bit of emotion, and then said he was happy to be going home so he could get some rest :) I breathed a sigh of relief. He was fine.

I don't know if all parents get so emotional over every little thing in their children's lives. My guess would be that some are far more rational than I am :) I'm a highly emotional person. That said, I would guess that most parents, particularly mothers, find themselves in these same situations, just perhaps not to the same degree, over things so insignificant. There is something about being a mother that makes you literally FEEL the hurt your child is feeling. You don't just understand it, you actually feel it- and you will do just about anything to make it better for them. Each time I face one of these moments with one of my babies, I can't help but reflect back on my own parents and wonder how they did it. How did they keep it together when we were falling apart? Heaven knows we went through a lot bigger hurts than these (some as consequences of our own choices, some as just part of life). How were they feeling when we got cut from the basketball team? When we made poor choice after poor choice and they had to sit back and watch us face the consequences we brought on ourselves? When our house burned down? When we were in an accident? When someone we loved hurt us deeply? When as much as they wanted to, they couldn't protect us?

My mom and I have talked a little about these sorts of things in the past. She has told me how hard it is to know we are going to crash and burn, but to have to sit back and watch us do it. I'm not quite sure I'll be able to do it quite as well as my own parents. I have a feeling my tendency will be to jump in when I'm not needed, to try and rescue my children when they need to learn to stand on their own two feet. I'm thankful that my parents gave me the chance to learn, to fall and to fail. Because that is how I became me- and I am strong. In these same moments, I can't help but think it must be like this for our Heavenly Father. He loves us so deeply and while He has the power to rescue us from our hurts and pains, He knows that what is best for us is to learn and grow from our own choices, and the choices of others. Sometimes He has to sit back and watch us crash. It must be so hard.

As my children-the loves of my life- grow and make their own choices, I hope I can learn a lesson or two from my own parents and my Heavenly Father. I hope I can be the shoulder to cry on, the words of wisdom, a tight hug, when it is needed. At the same time, I hope I can learn that at times you have to take a step back and let them learn to fly- even though it will mean many falls before they find their wings.

The gift of Music...

Growing up as the oldest daughter of a piano teacher, I was destined to learn to play. Not a day has gone by that I'm not thankful for this. My mother taught me, and my father impressed upon the importance of being willing to share this talent with those who needed it, particularly at church. My parents knew all too well that there are never enough people willing and able to play :)

I began teaching myself right after Savannah was born. She was the happiest baby and would sit in her chair and just listen. She didn't cry. She didn't squirm. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it. Imagine my surprise when at just 3 years old, my tiny little girl came up to me and told me she wanted to learn. Three year olds do not play the piano. 4 year olds do not play the piano. Most 5 and 6 year olds are still not ready to play the piano. And here was my three year old telling me she wanted to learn. I told her frankly that she was not old enough- she didn't even know her letters- how could she play the piano? Just a few days later, that sweet little 3 year old came to me and told me, "Mom, I've learned A-G and that's all I need to know to play the piano." I was amazed that she had picked that up just from listening to me teach other students, and thought I would humor her a little bit since she had put in so much effort. I told her I would teach her the finger numbers but that was it. She would have to wait until she was older to learn more.


And so I did. And it wasn't good enough for her. She took it upon herself to move along- to go ahead of what I was showing her. She had listened and learned enough just by watching me teach others, that she was able to pick up much more than she should have been. And so, my tiny little 3 year old daughter began reading music. At 4, she played in her first recital. At 4 1/2 she competed in her first piano festival where she got a 97/100. Students aren't allowed to enter unless they can read music on the grand staff and play with both hands simultaneously. You should have seen the look on the face of the judge as I walked her to the classroom to play her songs. You should have seen the smile on that judges face as she walked her back out to me.

I stopped teaching when I had my boys. It was just too hard to teach and juggle 2 babies. They didn't sit there, happy, like their sister had. They wanted my undivided attention. To everything there is a season, right?

My boys are older now. Mason is now old enough to help out with them. I also now have a room with locking double doors where I can teach, in peace, without interruption. And so, after a few years off, I decided to begin teaching again. I initially said I would just pick up 5 students. I don't have a lot of extra time but it's something I wanted to do. I was surprised when word got out that I was teaching, and I was bombarded with phone calls. I ended up taking quite a few more students than I had planned, but I still kept it manageable.

 As I've begun teaching again, and loving every second of it, I found myself reflecting back on my sweet little girl and her amazing ability. If someone told me they had a child that age who could actually play the piano- I'm not sure I would believe them. So I'm sure glad I took videos of that little girl doing her thang :) Here are 2 videos of Savannah playing, right before her first recital in 2008. This wasn't the actual performance and she's kind of in her own little world- she looks around the room and makes a few mistakes, but even so, I love watching these videos :) I can't wait to see what she does in the future!

For Old Times Sake

I was cleaning out my computer, getting rid of any pics I no longer need when I came across this beauty!!!

Some of you that read this are in this photo :) Remember back in the day hehe...

Okay, so this photo is from my 9th grade graduation. In this photo are some people who I still consider some of the best friends I have ever had- whether I've seen them recently or not. There are some people who you will always love, always feel lucky to know- and this photo reminds me of some of those people.

Anyway, so I was cleaning out the photos on my computer and I came across this, so I thought it would be fun to blog about it and tell some of the story to go along with it. In fact, I think I will periodically post on old pic from my childhood and do just that. So we'll start with this one. Forgive me for making fun of myself, please.

I know you are all LOVING the dress. Oh, in case you didnt know, I am the one in the front row, middle right. I know, what's up with the brown hair? I'll get to that.

So this was such a big day :) LOL. My mom took me to get my hair done. My boyfriend at the time, Doug (yes, you all remember that one, dont you- we totally "went" together- for like a week- which just so happened to be THIS week) was going to meet me and my friends at the dance (since I wasn't 16 it was he and his friends, who I also "went" with for like a week- just a different week), so I was all excited to get dressed up with my new dress that I drove 3 hours to find (no, I couldnt drive- my MOM drove me 3 hours). Im drifting here....so anyway, my mom said I could get my hair done at the- warning here- beauty school (this is your first hint of trouble in case you didnt pick that up). I had been there before and gotten what they called "clear" something or other that was just meant to make your hair shinier. So when we got there, we told them I wanted the same thing I always got. The girl who usually did my hair was on maternity leave. So her substitute pulled "my" card and got to work. To shorten this up a bit, a supervisor was called over somewhere during the process, at which time she asked me what color my hair was when I came in (to which I responded "blonde") and was told it was now brown with green streaks. The dear lady had pulled the wrong card and colored my hair a nice color called "Moroccan Sand". I stayed for several hours while they bleached the heck out of my hair and by the time I left, it was a reddish brown, but at least the green was gone. Oh well, I still had that FABULOUS dress :) So we had graduation. I met up with my BF at the dance and his first question was "wasn't your hair blonde when I saw you earlier today?" Ummm, yeah it was. But anyone who knows my luck could have seen that one coming a mile away.

So then I got this pic, which makes me smile all these years later.

To April, Melanie, Stephanie, Melisa and Jessica -and Karen (why weren't you in this pic?)- this goes out to you guys. Thanks for such great memories and for being incredible friends. For the love of LA Gear, splatter painted jeans, Girbaud, FHA, Cougarettes, the Dungeon, Vanilla Ice, greased lockers, red gym shorts, the ramp, Mr. Fehlberg and Coach Fielder. To Mr. Auva'a kicking over Aaron Mecham's desk. To Kathy Cowley getting mad at me for hanging out with a boy on our FHA trip. To growing up in a town that was 1 square mile. Here's to the times we had at Canyon View Jr. High :)