The Seven Paths of the ANASAZI Way

The ANASAZI Foundation

Far Too Long

The weather in Idaho recently has been much less than ideal for normal spring/summer weather. We're a month or so behind the rest of the world, it seems. We have psych-summer weather spurts - just as we get out the door to enjoy a beautiful day the wind starts blowing really hard, dark clouds begin to roll in, and then rain (or snow) will begin to fall. Gotta love Idaho; if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes.

With all of the random and unpredictable weather conditions that has been toying with our minds I have had a growing itch to get outside...for longer than five minutes. It's like a bag of popcorn - and I'm the corn kernel. Hear me out on this. The popcorn bag is thrown into the microwave and turned on. As the heat rises the corn begins to do a little exciting jig because it's about to pop. And just when the temperature is right, POP! It becomes popped-corn. That's how I am when the seasons begin to turn from spring to summer, minus the little exciting jig part. My excitement comes out in the form of a little kid getting an ice cream cone. Pure glee. Long story short, I am excited when Idaho gives us a really nice day that lasts longer than five minutes. Today was one of those days.

It has been far too long since I have been able to get a really good ride on my bike, so today I set out to fill this void with three distinct purposes. And with temperatures estimated to be in the low 80's I couldn't pass this opportunity up. The purposes for my ride were 1) getting out to do something that I love and that brings balance, 2) learning how to ride with my sweet new slick aero bars, and 3) to learn how to ride with clip pedals. The third purpose would be taken on after my ride. I'm not as hardcore as some people I know (Sandra) that go out to learn how to use clip pedals on a ride. I'll take my time in a parking lot.

With no real direction or route in mind except the country roads I headed south. Getting out of the hustle and bustle of the city and into the country was wonderful. The wind wasn't calm, but definitely not a bother either. The sun was shining bright keeping me at a perfect riding temperature. It was almost perfect. Without having my odometer on my bike I had no idea how far I had ridden so I decided just to do a big loop instead of retracing my route. It ended up being 23 miles, which was more than I had expected or felt like I had biked. (Take a look at my route here).

I stopped off at the local bike shop on my way back home to see about having the stem switched out. I'm a bit stretched out across my bike, which causes some discomfort on extended rides. Stan, the owner, taught me how to determine the right stem length to get and helped pick one out for me. He had the mechanic trade them out even though I did not have my cards to purchase it. Somehow I earned Stan's trust and he allowed me to take both stems with the promise I'd come back next week to pay for it. I was shocked and very pleased. Just the quarter mile ride back to the house I noticed a substantial difference.

I walked out of Bill's bike shop and was hit with a wall of wind. The sun had been masked with dark clouds and the temperature had dropped because of the wind. I was glad that I wasn't too far from home, but was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to learn how to ride with my clip pedals. Overall, it was a fantastic ride; exactly what I needed. And done within the perfect window of time. I'm looking forward to another summer-like day to get out on my bike again; it's amazing what a bike ride can do for you.

Don't You Quit!

This is one of my favorite talks and have had a copy of it in my scriptures since my teenage years. His message rings more true to me now than it ever has. Don't you quit; keep walking. There are good things to come... It brings a quote I once heard into mind, "If you're going through Hell, keep walking!"

Triathlon Trailer

I went back to the Rigby Triathlon website to see if there was anything new posted and I saw a link to a promo video of the race. Curious, I clicked on the link to watch it. Thought you might like to see a short video footage from the actual race too.

WHOA! Did you see that!?! Yeah, that was me at the very end!! I'm also in there for a split second at 0:44. I'm person walking in the water with the sleeveless wetsuit. Go ahead, watch it again. I won't mind. I'll just pretend for a second that this makes me famous. Ahhh, the lime light.....

Seeing Past Limitations

I get a lot of comments from almost everybody I talk with about my love and ambition to participate/compete in triathlons. The majority of these comments include words like, "crazy," "nuts," "insane" ... well, you kinda get the picture. I usually just smile and laugh at these unfounded comments and think to myself, "They just don't know how fun it is!" But my most recent triathlon in Rigby, Idaho had me think twice about everybody's comments and question why I love triathlons and what it means to be a triathlete.

Twelve days prior to the triathlon I checked the weather conditions for race day to get an idea of what to expect. The day prior and the day after were cold, rainy days but Saturday's forecast was warm with clear, sunny skies. I was excited because that meant I would be able to wear my new triathlon wetsuit: a thin, sleeveless, knee-length official triathlon wetsuit. This was exciting to me. So exciting in fact that I didn't consider anything else or pay close attention to the weather thereafter. It was set, rain or shine, I'd be wearing this wetsuit.

Race day was preceded by a week of constant rainfall, wind, and 40 degree weather. Why would race day be any different? For some reason I had it in my mind that race day was a special and magical day, so of course the weather would cooperate and be perfect for this event. To think otherwise was absurd.

The morning of race day I woke up to the same thing I had been waking up to all week - nasty weather. In a fury of gathering everything up I needed for the race while making sure to leave in enough time to arrive in Rigby to get my transition station set up I didn't even consider the weather and how I would need to adapt to mother nature's given conditions. Driving to Rigby with my windshield wipers on high I desperately looked across the sky for some sign of relief or break in the clouds. There was none to be seen. When I stepped out of the car upon arriving at Rigby lake I felt how cold it was outside for the first time, but I put it aside as I took a few extra minutes to add some layers for warmth.

While setting up my transition area and surveying the competition around me I noticed that everybody was putting on full-body wetsuits. "Interesting" I thought as I brushed the foolishness of it off. Finishing my transition set-up I made my way over to the lake to watch the Olympic distance triathletes begin the race and to wait for my two awesome supporters to arrive. It was soon after that the Sprint distance triathletes were to begin the race. I made my way to the water's edge and stripped down to my wetsuit. I was instantly cold as the rain hit my skin and the wind blew around me. I thought maybe I'd be warmer in the water. Ha! Can you tell that I had remembered everything but my brain!?! I stepped through the mud to get into the water and found colder temperatures. (Nooo waaay!) Quickly scanning and sizing up my competition while uncontrollably shivering I again noticed that I was the ONLY person with more than hands and feet not covered by a wetsuit. A lot more! The count down began, the whistle blew, and we were off!

Do you see something terribly wrong with this picture?

I had noticed that some of the triathletes during the Olympic distance swim were walking parts of the swim section. The water in Rigby lake was shallow enough in places that one could touch the bottom. There were no rules against it so for one reason or another people were doing it. Once I went rushing into the lake and the frigid water crept higher and higher around my body I decided that I would walk as far as I could before being forced to submerge the rest of my body into the freezing water. With each step I took and with every second my body was exposed to the water I found it more and more difficult to breath or feel parts of my body. It felt as though my muscles were constricting around my rib cage preventing my lungs from expanding as normal. My hands and feet were completely numb and the numbness continued to crawl up my arms and legs until my entire body was void of any feeling but complete frigidness. I began to become scared. I feared drowning due to my lack of ability to breath normally and the lack of feeling throughout my entire body.

My fear was mentally almost too much for me. As the water got chest high and I knew walking would no longer be an option in a very few short steps I began making my way over to the side of the lake. Standing in waist high water, shivering wildly I debated whether to keep going or throw in the towel and walk away. Two young female safety volunteers in a canoe saw my distress and came to see if I was ok. After telling them my thoughts and condition (mentally and physically) they gave me the options: One, if I got out of the lake I would automatically be disqualified from the race and be unable to continue onto the biking or running portions. Or two, to just keep swimming. They highly encouraged me to keep swimming and told me that I needed to get my body moving to keep the blood flowing which would keep my body temperature up. If I just stood there my body temperature would continue to fall, which I knew would bring on a series of undesirable conditions.

After several attempts and lots of encouragement and reassurance from the gals in the canoe I finally submerged myself in the lake to begin the last two-thirds of the swim. The gals in the canoe stayed next to me as I doggy-paddled my way around the lake. They were my saving grace; without them I would have most likely walked away from the race after only a few minutes into it. Their encouragements became the strength I drew from to keep swimming. Surprisingly the distance and time it took me to finish the swim didn't seem like that long at all despite my doggy-paddle pace. I stumbled out of the lake like a drunk because I couldn't feel the ground underneath my feet. I was numb head to toe...and purple.

Race volunteers stripped the wetsuit off of me. After several futile attempts of taking my goggles and swim cap off my head I had to ask for help because my hands were completely useless. I got to my bike, quickly grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me in hopes that it would almost instantly warm me up and thaw out my frozen limbs. No such luck. I knew I needed to get dry clothes on to help the process so I started to put on my biking pants. After struggling with this seemingly simple task I realized that I needed to get my biking shorts on first before my biking pants. I felt defeated; my own arms and hands were useless to me and had become a handicap. While looking at my two cheering supporters just outside of the transition area for some kind of motivation a race volunteer saw the despair in my eyes and quickly came over to help me. She took off her jacket and beanie and put them on me before helping me get into the clothes I would be wearing the remainder of the race. My friend also took the coat off her back and gave it to me as an added layer for warmth. Every layer was crucial for warmth and protection against the elements.

I may have looked incredibly ridiculous but I was more concerned about my body temperature rising and finishing the race than how much 'race fashion sense' I had. Despite my nervousness riding my bike with numb limbs I cruised through those 12 miles with ease. My upper body warmed up, but my legs become more numb to the point of having no feeling. I could see that my legs were pedaling my bike but I couldn't feel anything waist down. This only made me a little weary about my next tasks, running. My thoughts went back to my first triathlon last year when I made the transition from bike to run; I almost collapsed to the pavement when getting off my bike because my legs were numb.

My transition from biking to running was a little more graceful than I had expected, which I was grateful for. I quickly racked my bike and took off all of the extra layers except a light rain jacket. I was off again for the final portion of the race, a 3 mile run. I had the same experience running as I did last year. My legs stayed numb for the first mile before I got feeling in them again. And for the record it is such a wonderful thing to have feeling in your legs again!

I always give everything I have left in the home stretch to the finish line, but because my body had used up so much energy to try to keep my body warm during the swim and to warm up my body on the bike and run that I literally had nothing more to give than what I was already expending to just run. I gave this race everything I had.

I want to give a huge THANK YOU shout out to my two amazing supporters who sacrificed much to be there for me in so many ways. And a big THANK YOU to the two canoe gals and the girl at the transition who literally dressed me. These five individuals gave me the strength to keep going!

Official Race Times:

Final Time: 2:15:32

Time Back: 0:51:31

Swim: 0:22:47

T1: 0:17:53 - HOLY ETERNITY!!

Bike: 0:52:01

T2: 0:02:01

Run: 0:40:48

Place: 17/18 (age division)

Place: 84/91 (sprint overall)

So, why do I love competing in triathlons and what does it mean to me? My short answer is simple: It's a good excuse to help me stay in shape. But in all seriousness, the quote at the top of my blog says it all, "Limitations are only a creation of the mind." I strive to stretch my limitations to see how far I can really go or how much I really have to give. People say, "The sky is the limit" but I ask, "Why does it have to be?" This triathlon really proves this belief. I could have easily given up during the swim and I almost did. But was I going to limit myself to that or push myself to see how far I could go despite the conditions that I faced and discover what I had in me? Being a triathlete is one of the many limitations I am drawn to try to stretch. It's different for everybody. But there's always a greater potential that can be reached, it just needs to be discovered. One never knows their potential until they see past their limitations.

Wisdom and Emotion Collide

In the summer of 2007, after months and months of researching and searching, I bought the vehicle of my dreams - a Toyota Tundra. It was love at first sight and I was thrilled to have it. This vehicle provided me with the ability to go and do so many things that I otherwise would not have been able to do. It also provided many opportunities for me to serve others, which I felt had become a positive obligation; I enjoyed very much helping people in all sorts of circumstances and situations because of the fact that I had a truck.

I never in my wildest dreams thought of selling or getting rid of my truck. The thought made me shudder. I was planning on keeping my truck until 'death do us part.' I had become emotionally attached to it. And as dumb as that sounds - becoming attached to a beautifully shaped piece of metal with a roaring engine - it's true. I admit it. So you can imagine how I felt when I came to the decision to sell Squirt, my truck. H.E.A.R.T. B.R.O.K.E.N.

With the amount of driving I do for my job I got sick of listening to the variety of music stations offered in southeast Idaho. My favorite CDs were even becoming drab to listen to. I flipped from FM to AM and found my new 'radio addiction' - the Rush Limbaugh, Laura Ingrahm, Glenn Beck, and Dave Ramsey programs. This is where it all started - the Dave Ramsey program. For those of you who don't know who Dave Ramsey is or know anything about him, he is a financial advisor who helps people get out of debt and become wealthy through a very basic, simple, straight-forward process that is tried and proven a million times over. (Check out his website to get the whole gig; it's awesome stuff if you're serious about getting out of debt).

Before listening to Dave I was ho-humming my way out of debt, which was beginning to prove to be unprofitable unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life in debt. I got hooked. I wanted to become serious about getting out of debt. After crunching some numbers and looking at all of my debts I realized I was in a lot deeper in debt than I had been kidding myself to be in. I was determined to do everything it took to get out of debt.....except sell my truck that is. It really wasn't that big of a debt or that expensive to keep. (Did I mention something about kidding myself?). I was. It took me about a month to finally stop kidding around and make the decision to sell my truck - my biggest debt and monthly payment, not to mention the $300+/mo. in gas. This is where wisdom and emotion collide.

Wisdom won, as you might have suspected. I posted my truck on Craigslist on April 26th. An interested buyer came to look at it and take it for a spin on May 2nd. It sold on May 7th. Heartbroken? Very. Blessed? Undeniably. And I might add, strangely happy knowing I had just made a BIG step towards my financial freedom.

I was even more blessed by being able to buy a very reliable, fuel-efficient vehicle - 2004 Hyundai Elantra. I bought this vehicle from a good friend who also jumped on the getting-out-of-debt bandwagon. Her mode of transportation now is a bike. (How fuel-efficient, green, and awesome is that!?!). Totally the way to go. I'd jump on that bandwagon in a heartbeat if I could. Anyway, I am saving hundreds of dollars now just from selling my truck. It's amazing to see that money go towards my other debts making them smaller and smaller each paycheck instead of seeing it go into a black bottomless pit. Even though a part of my identity was taken (as a co-worker stated) and even though I miss my truck a lot I know that it is worth it in the long run. As Dave Ramsey says, "Live like nobody else now, so you can live like nobody else later."