More lessons from the Run-rise

 

On Saturday morning I was struck by the sky. I counted my steps, my breaths and my blessings as I ran an easy four with friends, and the life lesson painted by the sunrise definitely made the list.  

As usual, we arrived at the beach when the world was still enveloped in darkness. In a perfect world we could run mid-morning followed by a leisurely brunch, but as it is we are lucky to shower our sweaty bodies after an insanely early work-out before racing to soccer games, STEM camps and birthday parties. Saturdays, amiright?

We had just passed the pier and clocked our first mile when I noticed a change on high. On my right I found night's remaining darkness. It was black, blue and heavy. Dark and moody and difficult to decipher; there were shadows and silhouettes but no sureties. 

And then I looked left and was met with bright morning light and hope. Yellows, pinks, oranges, happiness. It was glitter on the Santa Monica mountains and steady waves at sea. It was soft sand rippled by the breeze, and birds stretching out on their first morning flight. It was peace.

The darkness and the light were in the same sky, important parts of the same story, and made me consider how often this is the case in my life. I'd like to believe that my life will be as expansive as that morning sky and even when things seem darker than usual and confusion abounds, brightness is rising nearby in all it's glory. The darkness is not the enemy, but there's also hope in knowing that it's not forever.

Thank heavens for the sunrise.   

An Unexpected Temple Feast

This morning I went to the temple, starving for some Heavenly assistance and peace. There were only four people in my session—two men and two women—and I was so excited to worship with them in such an intimate setting. Things were going along quite nicely until I went from kneeling at an altar to blacking out in front of everyone. I wish I were joking, but I'm not. I didn't go all the way down but it was far enough that everyone was worried, including yours truly. Before long a nice older sister named Charlotte was at my side, feeding me saltines and helping me sip water. I was embarrassed of course, but more than that I was just upset that the time I had so diligently and difficultly set aside for my spiritual feast was turning into such a mess. I limped through the rest of the session and before long I was sitting in the Celestial Room with Charlotte by my side. She lovingly patted my leg and provided ample tissues so that I could dry my tear-drenched cheeks. I told her she was my angel, and she told me a story. 

Last night before Charlotte went to sleep she specifically prayed that she’d be able to help someone in her temple session this morning. She showed up ready to serve but saw only two women—one who she knew well, and me skipping in with a smile on my face—and thought her services probably wouldn't be needed. Cue me falling over! Charlotte had treats in her cute little temple purse and a heart of gold, both of which she shared liberally with me. We cried together as she looked me right in the eyes and said, “Heather, Heavenly Father knows you and loves you. He sent me to help you today, and I was ready.” The anxiety and disappointment that had continued to fill my chest were quickly washed away by the peace those truthful words delivered. I am a daughter of Heavenly Parents, worthy of love and revelation and happiness. They love me and know me and want me to know they're close. I almost couldn't believe how light I felt, how grateful, how calm. And how humbled that Charlotte was ready to serve when I needed her most, to bring me that message my soul so desperately desired. 

My temple experience this morning was not at all what I was expecting, few things in life ever are, but I am so grateful that Charlotte helped me finally feast on the love of heaven...even if it started with saltine hors d'oeuvres.

Babies, babies, everywhere!

I watched a couple of babies last week and couldn't stop taking pictures of my substitute mom-boss-ness, haha! Gone are the days of having babies of my own (besides that cutie in the background) but I'm always happy to borrow some from my friends and kiss their little cheeks off!

Injured List

{This picture was from Saturday morning when we ran for over an hour in the darkest of mornings and then were greeted by the most beautiful and colorful beach sunrise.}

I'm on the injured list. I better not stay there for long--pray that I won't stay there for long--but that's where I'm finding myself at the end of this week. Benched. Foot elevated. Ice packs and Ibuprofen. Compression socks. Tears.

The annoying thing about this whole thing is that I'm hurt but I don't know what happened. 

Well, not really.

I was mid-run on my Monday 4-mile loop when my heel started feeling funky, completely out of nowhere. I didn't step wrong, I didn't trip, I didn't roll, just instantly my heel was not happy. I chalked it up to something in my sock and finished my last two miles strong, figuring that I'd feel better when I took off my shoes. But that didn't happen. In fact, that day my foot got progressively worse until I was limping everywhere I went. It's been five days and I'm still limping. It's bad.

If I wanted to play Google Doc, I'd tell myself that it's an overuse injury, probably a tired tendon. And why after a year of running did I get an overuse injury? Because I made some bad training choices last week and pushed myself way too hard. I did back-to-back runs on the same day (my regular 5 on the road but what really killed me was a 3.5 mile trail run less than two hours later) and then two days later, when my body was sore and tired, I woke up early for another 6-mile run. And that was after a considerable amount of running earlier in the week. More than usual, if I'm being honest. I'm a goer, a doer, a never-sit-stiller and maybe this injury is my body's way of screaming ENOUGH ALREADY! I think I did too much. (I know I did too much.) I think it needs a break. (I know it needs a break.) 

(A short break? Fingers crossed?)

When I first started running I hated it. I told myself I wasn't a runner, and honestly I only kept doing it because I was too stubborn to give up when my friends were still going strong. But then that hate turned to toleration, and then it grew to respect for the sport, and before long running became something I loved and craved, my favorite form of therapy and a part of my identity I viewed with pride. Running is my thing now, and the fear of losing it feels immense. 

I've spent this week canceling plans and patiently babying my body, desperately hoping that this unfamiliar-to-me form of self-love will heal my heel. 

Depressed Dodgers Fans

All I'm saying is that these smiles are not on our Dodger-loving faces right now. Our boys lost last night in game 5 after being ahead for 7 innings, tying it up in the 8th, and losing by a Grand Slam in the 10th. I think I may be in shock...I really thought we were going to get our parade this year. Feel free to send condolences and chocolate, I need buckets of both! 

Matching Brothers

Of course they have moments where they annoy the heck out of the other but normally, and thankfully, they are the best of brothers and silliest of friends. It was late one evening and I was finishing dinner dishes when their bedroom giggles quickly joined me in the kitchen with exciting news: "WE MATCH FROM HEAD TO TOE, EVEN OUR UNDERWEAR!" Believe me, that was not written all in caps for nothing, they were LOUD and thrilled and proud. I immediately took out my camera because you know what, I'm thrilled and proud too (but at that moment I was probably more tired than loud!) They are good boys, I love them, and more than anything I am so grateful they have each other.

Westwood Charter hoodies, I love NY shirts, star pajama pants and black socks...plus some matching underwear too!

Underwood Pumpkin Patch

Our school had the day off for a Jewish holiday so I sent an email seeing if any of our buddies wanted to join me and my crew at Underwood Family Farms for their Harvest Festival. Imagine my surprise when the guest list quickly reached the 70's! I have big love for Los Angeles and all the mama's who are excited to adventure and explore. We ended up having a wonderful day picking pumpkins, getting lost in the corn maze, eating treats, feeding animals and playing in nature. 

This is only one of the two tractors we filled with our group of friends, how awesome is that? 

Cora was afraid she'd hate the tractor ride because, "I don't wike bumpy and I don't wike fast because it's scawy" but luckily, the driver took extra care and it wasn't bumpy, fast or scary. She had a great time with her buddy Maxwell!

My friend was out of town so I ended up taking her three boys to the farm with me. Keeping seven children close was often a losing battle, but the kids were so good and they all had so much fun together. 

Can you tell the sun was bright?! Hahaha...oh well, these are cute anyway!

I wanted to bring cupcakes to celebrate Quinny's birthday with all of our peeps but the thought of hauling 75 cupcakes to the farm was more than I could handle. Luckily I had the idea to make cookie "cakes" and the kids thought they were the coolest things ever. We sang to Quinn and then everyone got to choose between a pack of Oreos or a pack of Nutter Butter. Happy birthday baby girl, we love you!