Stronger

I need to exercise. This was repeated twice in a blessing I was given after Charles died. I was told to exercise daily, and to get outside in the fresh air. This was something I already knew I should do, and I was doing pretty well, but it became something God personally counseled me to do -- and that has made all the difference. 

I have been diligent in my efforts to obey. :-) 

I have been running and working-out daily. I love it! If I go throughout my day without exercise, my mind becomes weighed-down with worry, and my body begins to feel antsy and irritated. Actually, I am starting to feel that way right now, so I only have a few minutes, and I am outta here! 

I know that if I start to feel cranky, sad, and full of fear, then I need to get out and run, and breathe. I felt that way last night. I have a LOT on my mind right now, and instead of wallowing in my discomfort, I told the kids to load-up on their bikes, and we had our Friday Family Night outside, exercising. It was the right thing to do! We had a great time, and I released my fear and worry on the trails. We all felt amazing afterwards -- as we always do. 

I just have to go and exercise, even if I don't feel like it -- especially if I don't feel like it! I ALWAYS feel better after, and never regret it! 

Bodies are made to MOVE and BREATHE!

I always think of Charles when I am on the trails. I feel the closest to him when I am outside. Probably because they were our trails we would travel together, and so old conversations come back to my memory, and make me smile (and sometimes cry). Being out in the weather, fresh air, and changing perspective is so freeing and rejuvenating… rain or shine! When I go on a little outdoor journey daily, it makes everything better. My brain becomes alive and happy, instead of frenzied and sad. 

What a blessing it is to be able to breathe! I am so grateful for a body that can move about freely, and take me where I need to go. 

Last night on our journey, we stopped for a minute at a potty, and played on the bike racks. The kids loved it, and said it was AWESOME! 

It is the simple things… 

Running for My Soul

I love to run. Sometimes I run for my body, and sometimes I run for my soul. No matter which I am running for -- body or soul -- running ultimately affects both. It is my favorite form of connecting with both my physical body, and my spirit. For me it enlivens me like nothing else can. Running is when I receive inspiration, and revelation. 

Today I went on a run specifically for my spirit. Sure, my body came along for the journey too, but my purpose was to exercise my spirit. 

Sometimes when I run, I listen to music. Sometimes, I don't. Today I decided to turn on a Pandora station that would play only uplifting, heavenly, music. I chose the Hilary Weeks station. I have a special love for Hilary, and her music. She was my primary teacher in Alaska, and I would listen to her practice singing and playing the piano in my house. Her music has had a profound influence in my life -- but that is another post entirely. I knew that I could count on this station for really wonderful and inspiring music. 

I was feeling pretty great out there today. I felt good. I have been working out a lot lately, and I am feeling stronger. 

But there was one point, while I was running out in the middle of an open sagebrush area, that I felt so alone. It was so barren, hot, and harsh -- August in Idaho -- the tall grass looked like dry, uncooked, spaghetti noodles. The sun was flaming, and I felt myself growing tired and weary from the heat. I didn't have water with me.  

As I continued forward feeling small and insignificant surrounded by an unpleasant landscape, the song, "His Hands," started to play. It is a song about Jesus. At one point the song describes His hands being pierced, because He let them, because of love. I was familiar with the song, so I knew that powerful part of the song was coming. I thought surely I would not cry, but as soon as the word "pierced" was sung, I lost it. I continued running, but I could barely breathe, I was crying so hard that I was gasping for air. 

My thoughts turned completely to Jesus. 

At that moment, I felt the weight of my sorrow, and even my sins. I felt the weight that I caused the Savior to suffer on my behalf. I could not help but cry out loud, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" I continued struggling to catch my breath, grateful that I was alone for my emotional display. 

As I apologized for myself and my imperfect ways, out loud, towards Heaven -- I knew He heard me. 

Not long ago, I was given a priesthood blessing. One of the phrases that caught my attention was that I would come to know, suffer, and understand the loneliness and pain that the Savior felt. I have been terrified to find out what that feels like. As time has gone on, I can see the words of the blessing come to fruition. 

Up until this point in my life, I have never experienced the level of loss and sorrow that I have had to endure, and carry on through. I have read that the death of a loved one -- particularly a spouse -- is the number one trial you can endure in this life. I can testify that it certainly makes it somewhere on the very top of the difficult-to-endure trial list. 

As I was running and experiencing the deep, aching, sorrowful, feelings, I was encouraged to "look up." What I saw was one of the most beautiful displays of the sun and clouds that I have ever seen. It looked simply Heavenly. I felt as though it was a smile from God, just for me. I even stopped running for a moment, and sat on a bench just to enjoy the moment thoroughly. And to express my gratitude to my Heavenly Father for being aware of me, and watching over me. 

When I feel my feelings of sorrow and loneliness, Heavenly Father always swoops-in, and saves me from myself. Sometimes it takes time (even days), and sometimes the response is immediate. But He always comes. 

He allows me to feel the pain, so that I might more fully feel the joy of His Omnipotent light, and love. Without pain, there is no joy. I have these pain-to-joy experiences almost daily now. 

With God's help, I picked myself up from my sorrow, and I continued running. And then a song called, "Sometimes He Lets It Rain," began playing. As soon as the song began, rain fell from a little cloud that seemed to be only right over me. It was sunny outside, with white wispy clouds -- it appeared water was falling from blue sky -- but the rain was freely falling where I was. I put my hands out to catch the raindrops, and my tears fell once again. But this time, they were tears of joy.  It just could not be a coincidence in the timing of the song, and the rain. 

It was no coincidence. Not for me. 

Here are the words to the song… 

Sometimes He Lets It Rain

By Kathryn Nelson 

She sees the storm clouds gather
The sky is turning cold and gray
She knows that something's coming
When she starts to feel this way
She pleads for intervention
But heaven offers no relief
And she would understand if she could only see that

Sometimes He lets it rain
He lets the fierce winds blow
Sometimes it takes a storm
To lead a heart where it can grow
He can move mountains of grief
And oceans of pain
But sometimes he lets it rain

When her heart surrenders 
To the Master in control
Her spirit learns the lessons of the tempest in her soul
When it's no longer raging
She can see how far she's come
Through the wisdom and the mercy of the Son

Sometimes He lets it rain
He lets the fierce winds blow
Sometimes it takes a storm
To lead a heart where it can grow
He can move mountains of grief
And oceans of pain
But sometimes he lets it rain

I knew the song was for me. I knew the rain was for me. 

I know that God loves me, and that He is aware of my life, and my needs. 

I have been walking through some serious rain lately, but I have also felt my heart growing, and surrendering to my Master -- Jesus Christ. I know that this experience is meant to bring me closer to my Savior. It is not that I was not close to Him before, because I was -- but now, well, it is different. I am different. 

I know that I need to walk through this "rain" in order to learn and grow, and to understand Him even better. We are all here for a reason. We all serve a special and unique purpose. I need to walk through the rain in order to become who I am meant to be. I need to walk through trials, so I can become who God needs me to be. 

Without trials I would be a spiritual wimp. 

We all have trials that we experience in this life. Some are more challenging than others, but one thing I have learned is that pain is pain. Whether you experience pain from the loss of a loved one, from divorce, a wayward child, abuse, childlessness, depression, illness, loneliness… whatever the trial is that you face, pain hurts. That ache in your soul from whatever your personal challenges you face -- is as painful for you, as my pain is for me. 

We all have pain, we all have sorrow. 

Jesus not only suffered for our sins, but also for our sorrows. I have felt the healing power of the Atonement in my life, more now than ever. He took upon Himself our sins and sorrows. He knows the pain you suffer. He is the Only One who can truly heal you, and offer relief from your unyielding pain, and heartache.

With Him you can be whole. With Him you are never alone. 

And that is what I was taught on my run for my soul today. 

The rain will fall. Jesus is always there. He can heal you. Healing does not mean He will take your pain away, but He will endure the pain with you. He will carry you through it, if you let Him. If you turn to Him. He can make your burden light. I know what that means now. 

Your trials are making you worthy of Heaven. Endure them well. 

One day you will look back and be grateful for the rain, and even the pain. 

Heaven is worth it. 

I promise. 

“Our Heavenly Father … knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.” - Thomas S. Monson 

Touch Here for Power: Alaska Mayor's Marathon

While in Alaska, we went to a Marathon. (No, I did not run it… though it was tempting, maybe one day… !) My sister, Kary, and her husband, Ray, are avid runners, and they had prepared to run in the Mayor's Marathon. It takes place in Anchorage. (The big city in Alaska.) 

It was a horribly wet and gray day, as Kary and Ray headed out from Wasilla to Anchorage super early in the morning. (An hour drive.) And it was wet and pouring rain for most of the Marathon. My mom and I drove into Anchorage a little bit later, with some of the kids, so we could be their cheerleaders at mile 18. (Many people "hit the wall" at mile 18.) We were there with signs, and to hand Kary and Ray off some special items, such as clothing, drinks, and pickle juice for Ray. (Nasty!)

We got to mile 18 early enough that we could see the very front runners. It was very inspirational. They were many minutes ahead of everyone else. Puddle… what puddle? They just flew through it like nothing… these guys were fast!  

The kids were so excited to stand on the sidelines, and cheer for all the runners. McKinley, my sister's daughter, would not move from her spot. She was determined to stand there, and hold her sign. 

Here comes Ray! If you ever wondered what an Ultra-Marathon runner looks like… you are looking at one! The week before this marathon, Ray ran an Ultra-Marathon. He ran for over 12 hours straight, and over 50 miles in one day. Why, you ask? Apparently, if you have to ask "why" then you will never understand the answer. Ray has become a super-hero. A few years ago, Ray had serious issues with his back -- a ruptured disc -- and he could barely walk straight. He had surgery, and serious pain, for a long time. But he was determined not to give in to being broken, and now… well, he has overcome! And this once broken man is now defying his body, and running longer than most humans will ever run… Pretty, darn, amazing. Way to go Ray! If you are broken… don't give up! Never give up! Show your body who is boss!

 He stopped briefly to kiss his kids… Stephen and McKinley.

 Woo! Mile 18… Ray is just getting warmed-up, and ready to run 50 more!

He told me to take a picture of "this" and then he slapped his bum… and gave his famous Ray cheese smile. I was just a young girl -- I think I was 11 -- when Kary and Ray got married. I have known this guy for a long time…

You can see how wet it was -- not fun running weather. It was so inspirational to watch people carry on in the rain. Ray doesn't care about the elements, though… he has run marathons in sub-freezing Alaskan temperatures. He has the ability to shut-out everything around him and just go -- I have got to learn that kind of focus!

There were some other cheerleaders next to us, and they had made this "Touch Here for Power" sign. When they left they gave it to us to hold. It is an amazing sign, and if I ever go to other events, I will make one to bring. So many people would see it, smile, and touch it, and carrying on with a bounce in their step. Some people would see it from the other side of the trail, and run all the way over to touch the sign. It was so fun to watch. It was a great pick-me-up for the runners. And it was so fun to connect with people like that. The runners would often touch the sign and make the sound, "POW!" or say, "Thanks, buddy!"

I learned that people need cheerleaders. People need POWER from others, encouraging them to continue. And not just to keep running… but to continue on in life! We all have to keep moving forward -- no matter what we are going through! What kind of "POWER SIGNS" can you create to help other people keep going?

 "POW!"

 Awesome.

My Mile of the Marathon...

I do not have any pictures of my sister Kary at mile 18. As soon as I saw her, she was running past us, without stopping, and she was yelling that she needed her drink. She yelled it, crying, and she kept running. "I need it! I need it!" she said through tears. I thought as quickly as I could. It was up to me to get it to her! Luckily, I had my running pants and shoes on, so I dropped my big camera on the ground (this proves my love for Kary), I grabbed her bottle, and without my shoes being tied properly -- I took off into the running crowd.

As I ran, everyone around the area cheered for me, and encouraged me to run fast and help her. I ran as fast as I could, dodging puddles and people, and eventually I caught up with her. I had just told my mom that morning that I had pulled my hamstring while running sprints with Kary earlier in the week,  so I would not be running that day. But that was beside the point in that moment -- Kary needed me! I ignored the pain, and as we ran together -- me at my 1st mile, and Kary at mile 18 -- we talked, and cried together, and gimped along.

Kary said she never cries during marathons, but when she saw me there holding my sign, she lost it. There I was -- a few months after losing my husband -- encouraging others to continue. I was holding a sign that said, "Remember who you are!" What was even more interesting, is that it felt REALLY GOOD to be cheering others on. It somehow washed my own pain away… while clapping, cheering and encouraging others -- I felt happy!

I ran with Kary for a mile, at which point I had to turn back, since I was getting too far away from my family, and my ride -- I thought about running the rest of the marathon with her, but there was no way to communicate that to my mom. I had to leave my sister, alone, to carry on by herself -- that was really hard to do, but I knew she was not really alone. (Kary is really close to Jesus.) And I had to turn back and run backwards into the marathon runners.

As I turned around to run back, I had a really interesting experience. I felt the desire to just encourage everyone I saw. In a very uncharacteristic like manner, I would shout-out to random strangers, "You can do it!" "You got this!" "You are Awesome!" and I would smile, clap, and give thumbs-up to everyone I passed. It helped that I was wearing a shirt with a big smiley face on it. It was amazing how people with their heads down would perk-up with some encouragement. It was also funny when some people would smile and say, "Hey, you are going the wrong way!" Yep, I knew that. Man, I wanted to keep going with my sister…

I made it back to my family and the car, and we headed towards the finish line, downtown.

As we waited, it was inspiring to be around so many people who had just overcome many, many, miles of running in the rain. I watched others as they crossed the finish line. I saw a lady cross the finish in pink spandex who fell to the ground crying. And I saw another man who did a side-jump-kick at the end, and then fell and blew-out his knee. (Ouch!) The finish line is a pretty uplifting, and fascinating, place to be.

What I really loved was seeing these shirts at the finish line… they were the volunteers helping with water, and passing out medals at the end. Very appropriate job for them, if you ask me.

This lady in particular was so fun to watch… she is so beautiful, and happy.

Way to help, Mormon Missionaries!

We also happened to see some old friends from a distance, they disappeared before we could get to them, but I got them with my long lens… Recognize them, Melinda? ;-) 

We missed Ray at the finish line, but we were in time for Kary… (She is in the purple jacket.) 

Giving hugs to her son, Stephen.

Getting her medal from a missionary. She told the missionary, "The Church is true!" (And it is!)

A well-deserved medal… running a Marathon in the rain is not for wimps.

Ray finding Kary at the finish line…

The Mormon Elders passing out water and high-fives.

Kary and Ray smiling every mile.

Kary and Ray are an inspiration! It was awesome to be there, with them. Loved it!

Kary is one of my favorite people on the planet. Perhaps it is because we are sisters, or perhaps it is because we share the same blood type of B+ (we say our blood type is to remind us to Be Positive!), so our connection runs super deep. But being around Kary, for me, is like being around joy. Maybe it is because she used to change my diapers, and she was a second mother to me (she is 12 years older than me). Whatever it is, I am grateful that she is my sister. When I am with her, I can talk about anything and everything, and we just have so much fun. She is perhaps the only person I am truly myself around… we even do the snorting-laugh when we are together -- you know, pure happiness that comes out your nose.

Kary is amazing. When I ran up to her at mile 18, that is all I could say, I had no other words. I just kept saying, "Kary, you are amazing!" Because she is! A few years ago, I was getting phone calls from her, and she was wondering if she could make it another day. She was sick. So sick. She was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue. She went from being an energetic Physical Education teacher, to being thrown flat on her back from weariness, and fatigue. It was so sad to see her in that condition -- so unlike her normal peppy-self.

But she never quit. She could not run, so she would walk. She would walk for just a little bit each day, despite her weariness. Her story is amazing and I am hoping she will share more of it on her blog, eventually. But from what I know, she went from sickness and chronic fatigue, to running marathons -- and to me, that is AMAZING!!!!

YOU ARE AMAZING KARY!!!!!!

(If you would like to view Kary's blog go to: www.karyskorner.blogspot.com. She is going to start blogging more often... right Kary? :-) )

The guy in the shorts kept finding his way into our pictures… 

As Kary likes to say, "Smile every Mile!" 

*Just a reminder that your comments are welcome -- even if you don't know me personally -- as long as they are nice comments. :-)   

Thanks! - Mari 

Running Away

Charles bought me new running shoes. We had gone out shopping together for new shoes on the Saturday before he died. We had also spent some quality time at the Whole Foods store, picking out some healthy food items, in an attempt to help Charles feel better, and healthier, and help heal his insides. He had not been feeling well for awhile. He felt like he was out of shape ... but it was so much more than that. (I will blog about that another day.)

I wore these shoes on a walk that Charles and I took the Monday night before he died. It was our last walk together. He requested that we be alone for our walk, so it was just us (and the baby in a stroller). We walked for a few hours. We walked, and talked, and enjoyed the beautiful Spring evening full of flowers and freshness. I loved walking with Charles. We seemed to solve all of the World's problems while we were together on the trails. This walk was no different. We talked about everything, and just enjoyed our time together. I had no idea that this was to be my last walk with him. There was no warning in my heart, no indication that I only had a matter of hours left with my sweetheart. I had no idea he would be gone from this world in the morning.

I wore my new shoes again the following morning, Tuesday, April 1st. The children had just left for school, and I was doing TaeBo in the living room. While I was kicking and punching, I could see Charles' reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was getting ready for work. I could see him brushing his teeth, and smoothing his hair. My body was burning, while trying to keep up with the intense workout. I cried out to Charles, "I am so tired of being chubby... I should not be this chubby!" And then Charles said words I will never forget, and I will always treasure. He said...

"Mari, you are beautiful. I am so proud of you."

Those were his last words to me before the ticking time-bomb -- the clot -- lodged into his lungs, and the morning took a turn from normal, to chaos. (I will write all about it soon.) I wore my running shoes to the Emergency Room.

These shoes -- my special gift from Charles -- have been carrying me out the door to go running almost everyday since April 4th. These shoes have been saving me.

I knew the moment I got home after leaving Charles' body at the hospital, that I had a new responsibility to take care of myself. I knew that I would need to get enough sleep, and water, and exercise, so that I could be as healthy, and happy, as I could be -- for my children, and for myself. There is one parent down, and only me to go -- I HAVE to last.

Each time I lace-up my running shoes, I repeat Charles' words in my head, "Mari, you are beautiful, and I am proud of you." As I pound my shoes on the pavement, and skip over rocks on the dirt trail, I can feel the power of Charles being proud of me. It is as if his love blankets my body with strength to move forward. The other day I was out running, and I just kept going and going for a few hours, because I felt so close to him, I did not want to stop.

As I have been out pounding the pavement, and the dirt trails, I see so many people along the way. I exchange friendly waves, nods, and I say, "Hello." Little do they know I am a recent widow trying to keep it together. I find myself wondering, as I see people running by, "What are they running away from?"

Aren't we all running from something?

For me, I run from fear, and worry, and doubt concerning my new life. I run to set my tears and emotions free, and to allow my body to feel alive after witnessing death. I run because it is when my spirit somehow conquers my body -- as if my body disappears for awhile -- and my spirit is set completely free. I run because I can still breathe, despite seeing my sweetheart's last breath.

I run away to be with Charles. It is my "alone time" with him.

I run so Charles will continue to think I am beautiful, and so he will continue to be proud of me.

I run to be free.

What do you "run" from...?