FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL? The End of Summer 2011

Hawaii and Family Time: 
Yeah, it's weird to reunite with people that you haven’t seen in six years. It's particularly strange to have dinner with people who were once your best friends and enemies (depending on the season) during middle school across the country when you are all 19 and 20 years old. Nonetheless, I planned a Moanalua Middle School reunion when my family and I journeyed back to Hawaii last week. Boy, it was such a relief to know that while we’ve all "grown up," changed haircuts, embraced new lifestyles, changed and yet stayed the same, we can still have a darn great time together. It made me realize lots of things about myself, as I finally end my “teen” years.

This trip to Hawaii was a beautiful time to reconnect with the place that forms part of my piecemeal geographic identity. I rediscovered how hard it is to run on loose, sandy beaches. There are more Asians than I remembered. Time changes really are irritating. It hurts to enter the water altering jumping into the water from the famous rock at Waimea Bay. Elevators can be slow and awkward, but the Hawaiian breeze in August is absolutely perfect. Wearing a feather in my hair is my kind of “edgy." It’s surreal to realize that your first babysitter really is a mom now. Though it's steep, it doesn’t actually take THAT long to run up the Diamond Head road. It is wonderful to not have to watch your feet for snakes while enjoying the perfect combination of ocean and mountains. Kahlua pork and shaved ice really are that delicious, no matter how unhealthy they may be. "Soul Surfer" can bring me to tears. And big shock: it is actually possible to fall asleep around 9 pm and wake up around 7:30 am on a regular basis. All in all, I’d say our Aloha family getaway was a success.

After returning to Florida Wednesday night, sleeping 13 hours and doing not much besides outrigging for the first time in at least a year, we headed out Friday morning for Mimi’s funeral five hours away. She was ready to go home to Jesus, even though it breaks Papaw’s heart for her to leave. The flower queen went to hang out in heaven on my twentieth birthday, of all days. Somehow, I wasn’t sad at the service that she planned for herself (special grandmother that she was). We had time to remember how wonderful she actually was and then we headed back the way we’d come in the family van, third edition. Oh hey, that’s where I am now: goodness knows there’s nothing like being stuck in the car for a bunch of hours to make you think and want to write (unless you’re reading David Sedaris’ “When You Are Engulfed in Flames”--I finished that hilarious and strange book an hour ago).

Time in Florida with the family, the subsequent family trip back to Hawaii and somewhat last minute all-day trek to my first funeral were an interesting finale to quite a busy summer. May 7th until August 29th: the summer of potlucks and cats and road trips and drama; the summer of studying Hebrews and colorful walls and the J.Crew sale and babysitting and picnic dates; the summer of Table Rock and a Disney Movie Marathon and “the last movie of our childhood;” the summer I learned to racewalk, learned that middle school is always nearby, and discovered an awesome old bridge; the summer I acquired a fancy camera that I still don’t really understand, I met my fairy godchild, and crafted like crazy using Great Grandma’s old buttons. Decided I never want to do a trail marathon, listened to “Remind Me” over and over (and over), and had a wonderful glimpse into the non-profit world I think I’d like to join.

My Hopes for This Year: I want to spend time with the people who are most important and who are willing to make an effort. God and I are going to hang out on a regular basis, and not just at FCA, bible study or church. I want to send handwritten letters just because. I want to enjoy some of my favorite TV shows and maybe even get my abs back while I watch them. I want to remember that every (EVERY) person I come into contact with is there for a reason. I’m not going to complain as much, I’m finally going to bike to downtown Greenville, and I’m going to wear flowers in my hair more often. I want to be a mentor for my little freshmen interested in joining sororities, yet still remember that I’m really no different than they are. I don’t want to whine about not wanting to “grow up”, because it really is so much better than the alternative.

There are so many more things I want to do. But it’s His plan and not mine; I'll try to remember that one this time around.

Workin' Hard, Hardly Workin': An Exercise Class with My Mother

Exercise: it's an amusing endeavor. Like a lot of things, it only works if you do it regularly, and yet, there are so many different forms and methods of exercise that every now and then, something can surprise us. Last week, I joined my mom’s exercise class at the tiny but nonetheless well-patronized local gym. Somehow I willingly woke up at 7:45 am (easy compared to the 3:55 am alarm for the flight to Hawaii, but still semi-painful), grabbed a couple of honey-wheat pretzels and a juice box, and made it to class. Hey, with our brilliant track record of being late for oh, everything except business meetings, we were only the second-to-last there. I grabbed an available spot that wasn’t next to mom, but wasn’t front and center either—success.

I was most definitely the only person under 40 years of age in the room of about 15 people. The instructor, Karen, seemed as energetic as any twenty-something, and very much ready to teach “Power Sculpting." My favorite people instantly became the two old men behind me who assisted me to set everything up (weights? Step and risers? Rubber band AND medicine ball? What is this?!) Now, my mom is certainly the slowest runner and hiker in our family (of semi-overachieving varsity high school/college athletes), but she is tough. I winced more than a few times and intentionally hid the fact that I was a division 1 athlete. Somehow, the hour was eventually over. 

I learned a few things as I regained a healthy sense of humility. Older people call it a “seat”; not a butt, not an ass, nor a bottom. I have to say, I normally like seats a lot more than I did during that class. Also, I think I now understand why people of older generations hate "obnoxious" (yes, some of it certainly is--Exhibit A: "it's Britney, bitch") top 40 music; that’s what they have to listen to while they do unenjoyable exercises over and over, about seven repetitions and one set past what anyone would “enjoy”. Anyways, I promise I didn’t hate it as much as this rant might suggest. It was nice to complete a decent core and weights workout by 9:30 am. I even decided to do 90 minutes on the elliptical afterwards in place of  my “long run;”so what if its Thursday and long runs are supposed to be on Sundays? This rule-follower would allow a lot of rationalization to avoid that famous Florida sunshine for more than an hour. Bonus: I was able to indulge my deep love magazines. You can’t take those on long runs because you’d look really weird if you did and you might even incur something worse than the scars I have from that lovely running-and-texting incident (yes, it happened).

I also found out the other day that my dad recently cracked several ribs waterskiing: another acknowledgment that hey, nobody wants to grow up. I currently embrace this mentality--silly as it may be--by listening to Taylor Swift's “Never Grow Up”, Kenny Chesney's “Young,” and most recently by loudly singing along to the chorus of “Barefoot Blue Jean Night” by Jake Owen (“Never wanna grow up, never wanna slow down”). On the cusp of my 20th birthday, I have definitely put up more than my fair share of whining about “getting old.” I’m kind of worried that my knees are going to be very pissed at me in the next five years or so...just like my boyfriend Jay, I guess. Poor guy: he only has four total knee ligaments although I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to have three in each. I do have to yell at him because he typically doesn't consider this. At least he can keep up with my brisk-to-others-but-normal-to-me walking pace as we pursue as many adventures as possible.

One last musing: it really is great to do ab workouts while watching a movie. Also, I hope the rest of humanity didn’t judge me too much for my yoga and calisthenics stint in the airport yesterday at 8 am. Well anyways, off to run…I’ll shut up now.