A Weighty Goal

I have a confession to make...I am overweight. I don't look it, but that's because I carry weight evenly. So I don't have an obvious belly, butt, puffy face, or any of that. But I know it. How much do I weigh, you ask? Well, I'm not telling you! It's not like this is my private diary or something!

But I have a goal: get to my prime weight by December 15, 2010. What's my plan, you ask? Eat better balanced meals with correct portion sizes and exercise. My exercise of choice? Running--and not just any kind of running. Barefoot running (well, almost).

My mom, my brother Jacob, and I all bought Five Finger Shoes yesterday (don't ask me why they're called Five Finger--after all, feet have toes). These are shoes that give you the experience of running barefoot without the pain of stepping on sharp rocks. Most running shoes have so much extra sole support--especially around the heel--that they cause runners to run incorrectly. That is why so many runners get running-related injuries.

I don't know how many of you run heel-toe. I know I do. You can hear me pound, pound, pounding on the pavement long before you see me. But the correct way to run is lightly on the balls of your feet--your heels shouldn't even touch the ground. If you run this way, you have less impact on your joints and tendons, and, best of all, you'll develop llegs. (If you know me, you know I am very disappointed in the appearance of my legs, and this is one of the things I hope to change by running "barefoot") I ran (well, ran, walked, ran, gasped, ran, walked, ran) for two miles yesterday, mostly focusing on changing my running style to ball-of-feet, and my legs (not llegs yet) huurrrt. Today I forced myself out of bed and ran a mile (I want to run at least a mile a day)--well, ran most of the way with short ten-second breaks every hundred feet or so. It's amazing--my legs didn't hurt while I was running, but each time I took a break they did. I know I can run; now my brain just has to believe me.

How am I coming with my goal? Well, I know I have to set mile-markers, so to speak. I started my goal last week, and I weighed myself mid-week. I was already at my weekly goal! So I weighed myself today, and wow! I've passed my weekly goal! I don't know if that's because last week was my heavy part of the month (girls have that, you know) or if my smaller portions are helping. I wasn't able to start the exercising portion until yesterday, but at this rate I'll meet my December goal--no problem!

And if I can do it, you can do it too!

September 11, 2010

photo found on blogs.villagevoice.com

It wasn't until I left my apartment and saw all the flags lining the streets that I remembered that today is September 11. It is strange to think that nine years ago our nation was attacked. I remember the morning of September 11, 2001. I was rushing to get ready for school. The television was on in my parents' bedroom, and I remember seeing a picture of the twin towers on TV. But I was in a hurry, and I continued on my way.

At school--I was in junior high--all the televisions were on. I knew then that something was wrong. In a daze, I went from class to class. I watched planes crash into the Towers. The first tower fell, then the second tower, over and over again. It was an evil cycle--over and over one building would crumble in a cloud of cement-gray smoke, soon followed by the second tower. Reports kept coming in: tens of thousands dead or missing. The actual death toll would not be known for months. I kept thinking of the nearby Hill Airforce Base--what if whoever attacked the Twin Towers attacked here?

More and more reports came in: the Pentagon was hit by a plane, and another plane fell in Pennsylvania. A strange face appeared on the television in the afternoon--a man named Osama bin Laden, who had claimed responsibility for the attacks. All of it was overwhelming--it was too much for a fourteen-year-old girl. I walked, breathed, lived in a shocked daze.

I remember in my history class the lights were off and the television was on. I watched for the hundredth time the first tower fall. One boy cried out, "Cool!" It took all my self-control to keep from lunging over my desk and pummeling that boy. Didn't he realize that thousands of innocent lives had suddenly and hideously been snuffed out?

When I got home, I met up with my oldest brother Dustin. He was in his first year of college. I remember him saying something along the lines of, "If they start the draft again, I could probably get out of it because I'm in college or because I'm going on a mission soon, but I won't. I'll go protect my country."

That frightened me. I couldn't imagine my gentle brainy brother fighting, killing, even to protect others. I didn't want it. Luckily, the draft has not been reinstated. My brother has not had to fight and kill, though others have fought and killed and died.

So, nine years later, what have we learned? Have we beat the bad guys? Have we become closer as a nation, become a more God-fearing people? For a time, it seemed we would. Now, nothing is certain. I pray that we may learn from September 11. Let us learn to be a more God-fearing people. Let us learn to reach out to one another, to care for and lift one another. Let us make sure that we keep September 11, 2001, in our hearts so that we may learn to become better people.

Wishing for Christmas

Is it pathetic that it's only the beginning of September and I wish it were Christmas? Well, I do, and I'm not ashamed.

Photo by Steve Jurveston

I love the magic of Christmas. I love the snow, and the music, and the feeling of stillness that comes with Christmas. All of it can be drowned out if we get too frantic in our lives, too worried about the shopping or the decorating or holiday traffic. But if we take a moment, the stillness, the peace of Christmas can penetrate our hearts. We reach out to others more during Christmas at any other time of the year, spreading goodwill and well-wishes. We draw closer to our families at Christmas time. I love that. I love how close my family is at Christmas (and we're pretty close anyway).

Have you ever gone outside on a winter's night when a light snow is falling and soft white snow already covers the ground? Have you ever stood under a streetlight and looked up to see the white flakes swirling towards the ground. Have you ever listened to the utter stillness of the world when this happens? This winter, try it. Get out your earmuffs and your mittens, bundle up, and step out into that world of white and black. Let yourself go still. Feel the cold nipping at your cheeks. Just listen to the world. There is a magic in it that I cannot put into words.

Photo by Kenneth Libbrecht

So, I guess I'm feeling a little homesick for Christmas. Don't be afraid to admit it's happened to you too--wishing for Christmas at the wrong time of year. Or you can just think I'm crazy. It doesn't matter if you do.