Two! Four! Six!

"Excuse me, excuse me!  Four year old coming through!" Steffen announced loudly as we went through HEB on his birthday.

He is four, and he knows that four is a VERY big deal.  He took his birthday very seriously this year.  What do four-year-olds eat?  What do they wear?  How much should they get for their birthdays?  These were all questions that he pondered in the lead up to his big day.  (He decided four-year-olds eat buttered noodles and wear clothes that say "4" on the tag, and they get LOTS of Hero Factory.)  At the end of his special day, he said, "This was my best birthday EVER!"

Evan sagely remarked that that was because he'd only had four birthdays and two of them he couldn't even remember.

But Steffen wasn't the only guy around here to have a birthday.  After Steffen's birthday on September 30th, Austin turned two on October 9th, and Carsten finally (he's been talking about his birthday since August) turned six on October 28th.  That's right, my three youngest boys have birthdays within a month of each other, and trying to make sure each one had a wonderful day kept us even busier in October than we usually are.

They all thoroughly enjoyed their birthdays this year, despite my failure to invite people over.  (I felt terrible when Steffen got up in the morning and said, "So when are all the people coming over?"  Next year, buddy.) They did get all their birthday perks, though.  I try to let the birthday child have all the choices that sometimes aren't available in a big family.  They pick breakfast, lunch, dinner, the Friday night movie.  Plus, my kids only get sweet cereal if it's someone's birthday.  Much negotiation, bribing, and suggesting goes on before the birthday child finally makes a selection.

Their official "party" was very low-key and combined.  It's hard to believe I'm the same mom who used to pull off huge parties.  That was another life.  Carsten, since he's the oldest, got to pick the venue, so we packed up and headed to the zoo.

There were cupcakes.

 And gifts.

Austin was especially impressed with the snazzy box.

And animals.

Everyone (except for Nathan, who was home sick) had a great day.

Happy birthday, boys!

Summer Reading

Happy Fall!

The days are crisp, the leaves are changing... Wait, this is Texas.  But it is about 20 degrees cooler today than it has been!  Maybe it's not going to be blazing hot for another month after all.  One can always hope.

I came up with the idea for this post as I looked at the growing stack of books on my nightstand.  I used to be the type of person who finished one book before starting another.  Lately, though, I've started a habit of having a few books going at a time- usually each is in a different genre- but I have so little time to read, that I don't like waiting for weeks to start a book I'm interested in.  So I rotate and when I have a free minute, I grab whatever book I'm in the mood for and read that one.  I'm a very fast reader, and that's a good thing considering my limited time.

I kicked off my reading with Rumsfeld's Rules on Memorial Day weekend.  Here's what I read the rest of the summer.

Books to the Kids
I try really, really hard- but not always successfully- to read to the kids before bed.  I have fond recollections of my dad reading to me and I want my kids to look back with the same warm memories.  I have found that it is extremely important that I enjoy the book we're reading.  If I don't, I seem to find a million excuses- too late, too tired, too wild- to skip our evening reading.  Here are a few of that we enjoyed:

Mrs. Piggle Wiggle- This book is hilarious.  Mrs. Piggle Wiggle comes up with all sorts of "cures" for childhood ailments.  Like the Radish Seed Cure for the little girl who refused to bathe.  When she started sprouting seeds, she hopped in the tub with no complaining.  We all laughed and exchanged many a knowing glance as we read.

Raiders from the Sea- This Viking adventure was just a touch slow.  We read a lot about what the characters were thinking and feeling, and the moments of action were few and far between.  I probably wouldn't have noticed that if I had been reading it to myself, but reading aloud is so much slower, that some of the introspection got to be a little tedious.  Justin, though, really loved it and made sure we read every night.

Journey to the Blue Moon-  We've read other things by this author (The Dragon of Lonely Island) and we knew we'd love this one.  In this fantasy, people are transported to the Blue Moon (which only happens once in a... well, you get the idea) to find things that they've lost.  Thanks to some creative villains, the Blue Moon is a pretty treacherous place, and we had a hard time putting this one down at night.

Black Ships Before Troy- This is a beautiful adaptation of the myth surrounding the Trojan War for children.  Once again, Justin is entranced.  We have a nicely illustrated copy and he stares at the pictures throughout the day.  "Mom, I think I like the Greeks better.  The Trojans never should have stolen that woman.  But why does Achilles have such a bad temper?"

Books for the Kids
I don't read everything before my kids read it, but certain things require a little extra research before I hand them over to them.

39 Clues- Very addictive, in a "I can't stop reading this even though I know it's not necessarily the best literature available" kind of way.  I did stop after the first book (okay, maybe the second) because life is too short for me to read endless kids' fiction.  Nathan and Megan like them, though.

The Hunger Games- Because Everyone has read it.  I haven't met Everyone, but apparently, he gets around.  He's the same Everyone who eats McDonald's, drinks soda at school and plays video games all day.  "Can I read it, Mom, puhleease??"  Answer: No.  Just because something has been written- even written engagingly- and Everyone has read it doesn't mean it's worth reading.  From a worldview perspective, this was confused and disturbing.  I'm a little worried about Everyone.

Books to Make Me Think
I went to the Society for Classical Learning conference this summer and there were so many great speakers! I left with a long list of books to read, and I've made varying progress, in between lesson planning and other life craziness, through these three:

All God's Children and Blue Suede Shoes-  Ken Myers, of Mars Hill Audio, spoke at the conference, and I got an opportunity to speak to him briefly in between sessions.  His insight on culture and how a Christian ought to engage it is filled with wisdom.  I was especially fascinated by the way he distinguishes between pop culture (which is inherently wedded to the throwing off of a community's values)  and folk culture (which is firmly rooted in a community's beliefs and standards.)  I'd call this a must read.  I wasn't just encouraged and challenged by this, I actually enjoyed reading it.

From Achilles to Christ-  Louis Markos was another conference speaker, and if I had to pick a favorite (a tough call, to be sure) is would be Professor Markos.  He spoke on CS Lewis and other topics, and I went right to the book table to buy something he had written.  They were sold out.  That's okay!  There's always Amazon.  This particular book is subtitled Why Christians Should Read the Pagan Classics.  He makes some interesting arguments and points to a faint glimmer of God's truth- imperfect, of course- in the pagan literature.  Fascinating.

The Devil Knows Latin-  Professor Christian Kopff led a couple of the sessions I went to at the conference, and he was a close runner up for my favorite.  He made a convincing case for the need for classical, Latin-based education in America today.  (So maybe he was preaching to the choir, but it's always nice to have someone brilliant back up one's convictions.)  His book, after hearing him speak, is delightful.  Some of it seems a bit rabbit-trailish, but his writing comes across just as he does in person.  I liked the book, but it might seem a little like inside baseball to many.  It's got a great title, though!  (The title, since I know you're just dying for me to tell you, comes from a story.  "Ronald Knox, a wise and witty Catholic priest, when asked to perform a baptism in the vernacular, refused...'The baby does not understand English and the Devil knows Latin.'" from the book, pg. xv)

Books for Fun
I admit it.  I am a fan of the thriller.  I do not read romance novels, I do not read books about vampires, but I DO love a good CIA tale. I was a big fan of Vince Flynn and was saddened to hear of his premature passing.  I tried a few new authors this summer to fill the void.

The Kill Artist-  an Israeli undercover operative who restores great works of art.  You can't really go wrong with that.  I enjoyed this, but I still missed Flynn's Mitch Rapp.  Maybe, though, once I get better acquainted with the series, I'll make friends with Gabriel Allon too.

The Faithful Spy- This one was a bit of a twist on the more typical spy novel.  It was interesting.  I haven't decided whether or not I'm a fan of Berenson's John Wells yet.  I was able to take a couple of weeks on this book- not something I can say for Vince Flynn.  I usually read those in a day or two.  The book was engaging, but just not of the "I can barely keep my eyes open but I still can't put this book down" variety.  I plan to read more in this series as well, though.

A Book from the List
I've had a list of books that I've wanted to read for a long time.  Every once in awhile, I finally get around to reading one.  Some of them I've hated (Moby Dick) others I wondered why I took so long to discover such a great read (Oliver Twist.)  This one was in the second category.

The Iliad- I read the Lattimore translation, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I had thought, for some reason, that it was going to be hard to read, but I found it entertaining and beautiful, and the language really wasn't difficult.  (Thanks, Dad, for having me memorize verses in the King James Version when I was three.)  I was delighted that reading it didn't feel like a chore, and I could, in fact, see myself reading this again.

So that's what I read this summer!  I'm always open to book recommendations (although my list is long and getting longer.)  Have any favorites I should try?

Teachers

Teacher are such creative people.  Especially when it comes to homework assignments.  They have so many great ideas.  Like making homemade pizza to learn about fractions.  (Does ordering Papa John's and cutting it yourself count?)  Or making a model of Jamestown.  (Thanks for that one, Mrs. P.)  Last week, though, I fell victim to my own creative lesson planning.

Nathan is in a couple of my classes, and he was especially excited about my weekend journaling assignment.  I had listed forty, that's forty, journaling prompts and instructed the students to choose one.  "Okay," he announced after looking at the list, "I am going to make dinner for the family tonight and write about it."

"Which one did you choose?  The one about your ideal vacation?" I ask.  Surely I heard wrong.  Nathan doesn't even like to make his own sandwiches.

"Nope.  The one with the dinner."

I experienced a moment of terror.  A vision of a demolished kitchen, complete with blackened pans, flashed before my eyes.  Oh, wait, I had included in the prompt that the student had to clean it up himself.  Well, at least my teacher creativity insanity was balanced with a little common sense.  I also realized at this point that I had borrowed the idea for this particular prompt from a colleague I met at a conference.  And he doesn't have kids.  Figures.

Nathan grabbed my cookbooks and started to make out his menu.  As he put his grocery list together, I subtly made little hints to try to minimize the damage.  Olive lentil burgers, mashed potatoes, gravy, and pound cake sounded delicious!  And messy, really messy.  How about Boca Chik'n, baked potatoes, and, well, okay, pound cake?  Coconut Lemon Pound Cake with Lemon Glaze, to be precise.  He went along with that.

I took a deep breath once the groceries were unpacked and tried to plan out my strategy.  When I was growing up, my mom would let me loose in the kitchen and just tell me to make sure it was cleaned up before she came back in.  I wasn't confident enough to pull that off, and personality-wise, I'm probably more like my grandmother, who, looking over my shoulder, once told me I was stirring the batter in the wrong direction.  I decided to go for a balance between the two.  Available, but not intrusive.

And then I got to observe Nathan at work.  He attacked the task very mathematically.  What time are we eating?  How long does each item take?  When should he start?  And how long does it take to preheat the oven?  Once he had made all of his necessary calculations, he got to work.

"Always read the recipe all the way through first," I told him as he started the pound cake.

"Well, of course, Mom, can you imagine if I started to flash a new ROM to my phone and forgot to back up my old ROM?  There goes your data!"  he laughed.

I laughed too, but not because I understood what he was saying.

As he poured in the oil, he said, "Check this out!  Who says vegan has to be healthy?  This cake is like a dirty little vegan secret."

I must say I was impressed.  He measured carefully, followed each step exactly, and was actually very proficient.  Dinner was a hit with everyone, and he DID clean up the kitchen.

Let's hear it for creative teachers!

Trumpets

"So do you think that something Christians would think is significant might one day happen on Rosh Hashanah?" my friend asked, as I bustled around getting things ready for the substitute teachers who were going to take over my classes so that I could be off for the holiday.

"Could be!"  I replied.

The idea that the Old Testament feasts found in Leviticus 23 might have some sort of fulfillment in the future is a somewhat popular one.  It might seem silly- the ravings of so many end times madmen- except for one thing:  It's happened before.  Three holidays (four if you count Unleavened Bread) have actually had a significant event happen that in some way fulfilled their original purpose.

Passover was originally established as a memorial of the Exodus.  "'And it shall be, when your children say to you, "What do you mean by this service?" that you shall say, "It is the Passover sacrifice of the LORD, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt when He struck down the Egyptians and delivered our households."'" (Exodus 12:26-27)  The story of redemption, however, was fulfilled when Jesus, our Passover lamb, was sacrificed for us.  The symbolism of His death wasn't just partial, though.  He actually did die on Passover, on the very date.  Then, He was resurrected on the very next holiday in line, Firstfruits.

These events weren't seen as mere coincidence by the early believers.  Paul explicitly states that Jesus is "our Passover" (1 Cor. 5:7) and also, since He rose from the dead, He is the "firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." (1 Cor. 15:20)  In fact, the entire book of 1 Corinthians is replete with Passover terminology.  Our freedom from sin, for example, is likened to purging out the "old leaven," an important rite during the Feast of Unleavened Bread.  The early believers knew that Jesus Himself had made the feast/fulfillment connection when He shared that final meal with His disciples.  As they celebrated the Passover together, He made sure that they would one day understand the new layer of meaning His death would add to the ancient tradition: "Do this in remembrance of Me."  And even Christians today are familiar with Pentecost, though perhaps not all realize that the Holy Spirit was given on a day that had already been a holiday for thousands of years.

So it's not entirely implausible that the other feasts (there are seven yearly feasts: Passover, Unleavened Bread, Firstfruits, Pentecost, Trumpets, the Day of Atonement, and Tabernacles and one weekly: the Sabbath) might find a prophetic fulfillment at some point in the future.  God likes doing things like that, it seems.  What then, might we be looking forward to on Rosh Hashanah in the future?

Rosh Hashanah means "Head of the Year" and it's currently celebrated as the Jewish New Year.  Some historians suspect that its celebration as the new year might have arisen sometime during the Babylonian captivity, but the evidence is a bit murky.  Biblically speaking, the start of the new year is Nisan, the month of Passover (March or April) and that's pretty clearly spelled out in Exodus 12:1-2.  The Bible's name for Rosh Hashanah isn't actually Rosh Hashanah at all!  It's called Yom Ha-Zikkaron (the day of remembrance) or Yom Teruah (the day of blowing the shofar.)  It was commemorated by blowing the shofar (ram's horn) and, in the book of Nehemiah, reading the Word of God.

When Christians think of the blowing of a shofar- a great trumpet- our minds turn to the day, the "mystery," when "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed- in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.  For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall all be changed."  (1 Cor. 15:51-52)  And on that day, "we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep.  For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God.  And the dead in Christ will rise first.  Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.  And thus we shall always be with the Lord."  (1 Thess. 4:15-17)

And maybe, just maybe, it will be Rosh Hashanah.

In the Rear View Mirror

Were my eyes playing tricks on me, or was something up with that guy's tire?

"Mom, what's wrong with his tire?"

Okay, it wasn't just me.  The driver of the pick-up truck in front of me was clearly losing the tire off the back of his trailer.  "I think," I said, as bits of rubber started flying toward my windshield, "that he's having a blow-out."  I slowed down, anticipating that he would pull off to the side of the road as soon as he realized what was happening.

Except he didn't.  He kept going 65 miles an hour as the tire continued to rip apart.  And then the entire thing came off and flew across the road, the rim of the trailer blazing along the pavement.  He didn't even slow down.  Smoke started billowing up behind him.  I honked several times.  Surely that would make him look in his rear view mirror and see the cloud of smoke.  Nope.  Nothing.

The kids and I started laughing in disbelief.  "Wow, Mom, he must be really determined to get where he's going!"

When he finally pulled over, I thought to myself that there was probably a lesson here.  Everyone knows that you can't drive looking in the rear view mirror.  You can't move forward if you're always looking back.  It's the same with life.  If we focus on the past and spend hours contemplating our childhood and reevaluating past choices, we won't make forward progress.  Ecclesiastes tells us that it is better not to "dwell unduly" on the things that happen in our lives.  (Ecc. 5:19-20)  We have to travel with our eyes forward.

The pick-up truck driver had that lesson down.  No looking back for that guy!  He had his eye on the goal and he was moving forward.  He was off to work and nothing was going to distract him.  But he didn't take the time to realize that things were falling apart behind him.  Every once in awhile, we need that rear view mirror.  A quick glance back here and there can give us information that will help us reach our destination.

After all, how can we learn life's lessons if we don't take some time to look back and evaluate?  There are many who spend far too much time pondering and reconsidering every step, but the hyper-charged people out there- we know who we are- are guilty of the opposite folly:  Moving toward a goal at a breakneck speed at the expense of letting the past instruct us.  I find it's far easier than I'd like to admit to fall into that trap, especially in the little day to day areas.  After all, when something huge happens, you pretty much have to stop and take notice.  If your house burns down, there will be inspections and reports.  What caused this massive disaster?  But in our day to day life, it's easier to ignore the warning signs.

Take parenting as an example.  One of the advantages (other than having a fail-safe retirement plan) of having a lot of children is being able to learn from your mistakes and change tactics.  That's why we firstborn children are all so tightly wound and high strung, parents just have no idea what's a big deal and what isn't.  So with the first child, we usually decide that EVERYTHING is a big deal.  When Nathan was seven, he started lying.  Oh my goodness!  What kind of future con artist were we raising?  And then, he stopped.  And when the next child turned seven and started to lie, we said, "Hasn't this happened before?"  By the third or fourth time, I was able to say, "Well, it looks like it's time to start teaching the required seven-year-old curriculum on the value of honesty."  I could look in the rear view mirror and apply those lessons as I moved forward.

A look back can also remind us of all the ground we've covered in the past.  Sometimes, the destination is too far ahead to even see.  There are just too many turns in the road between us and where we're going.  We have to remember, then, how far we've come, how many times the Lord has sustained us in the past, how we've overcome obstacles that seemed insurmountable before.  And as we look back, we get the courage to move forward.

"A wise man considers well his steps."  (Prov. 14:15)  On the highway of life, we'd all do well to check the rear view mirror every now and again.

Live Fast

I was listening to some great Keith Green music.  I love his songs.  His passion and zeal shine through in his lyrics, and when I sing along with him, I am inspired to follow the Lord without compromise.  His life was short.  He was killed in a plane crash, along with two of his children, at age 28.  He left behind a pregnant wife and one more little one, and a legacy of speaking the truth through music:

"The world is sleeping in the dark,

that the church just can't fight,

because it's asleep in the light.

How can you be so dead

when you've been so well fed?"

Conviction and inspiration, all from a life- though brief- lived well, lived passionately, lived fast.

For some reason, that made me think about how short Bryan's life was.  Just 44 years, and he was a Christian for less than half of that time.  And yet he accomplished so much and touched so many.  He lived fast.  He packed as much as he could into his short life, and I think there's a lot to be learned from his example.

Bryan, you see, was busy, very busy.  He had a job, a family (a big one!), and all of the usual "responsibilities."  And yet somehow, he still managed to teach Bible studies, plan and lead Passover Seders, teach Sunday school, lead AWANA at our church (a Sunday night Bible memory club), and invite people to our home for celebrations and fellowship.  Then, of course, there were the comments he'd make that made people wonder what on earth he read in his spare time (Irenaeus, Tertullian, Justin Martyr, and the like.)

He did all of that while dealing with chronic pain.   Some nights before Bible study, when his ankles hurt so badly that he could barely walk,  I can remember him debating whether or not he should rearrange the room so that he could sit instead of stand.  He usually stood.  One afternoon before a large Passover Seder at our home, he went to the emergency room to get a splint for his wrist.  (Collapsed joints are very painful.)  He had every reason to take it easy.  Oprah would have told him to practice saying no and work in some more "me time."  And no one would have blamed him if he had chosen that path.

But Bryan felt blessed to have so many opportunities to share the zeal he had inside.  He would say, "Well, you've got to do something with your life."  How often do we forget that we're supposed to be doing something with our lives?  How often do we say, "I'm just so busy.  I need to slow down"?

And maybe we are too busy.  But there's a good chance that we're busy doing the wrong things.  We turn down the opportunities for service that are meaningful and eternally enduring, and absorb ourselves in little distractions that won't matter much in the end.  Plus, there's always the chance that we're stronger than we think, capable of doing more than we think we can, if we just choose to follow the passion that God has given us.  Are we squandering years that may turn out to be all too short?

God hasn't called us to an easy path, a path with lots of time to pursue idle pastimes.   He's called us to serve, to reach out, to think carefully about what we can do to impact those around us.  And when we do things for His glory, He gives us the strength, even if it seems impossible at the outset.

A few months before he died, Bryan asked me, "Honey, do you think we can do a public Seder at church again this year?"  I was kind of surprised he asked.  I figured he would have taken it for granted that we would.  (When Justin was born two weeks early, he said, "Oh good, we can invite some people over at Passover.  He'll be 6 weeks old!"  We had 20 guests that year.)  I asked him why he was asking me, and he said, "Because I know it's hard, and I don't want you to do it if you don't think you can."

It's true.  It was hard.  We were busy.  We had an infant and six other kids under ten.  Bryan was putting in long hours at work.  By all the standards of this world, I should have said, "No, it's too much."  But I knew how much it meant to him.  I knew that God had placed a burning desire inside of him to share the wonder of the Word.  And I didn't say no, I said we'd make it work.

And that was his last Seder.  Was it worth it?  I think so.

Walk as children of light...

Redeem the time,

because the days are evil.

- from Ephesians 5:8,16

Tiny Texan

I finished my first sprint tri!

Sunday was the annual Tiny/Small Texan Triathlon in Boerne.  I've had my eye on this race for a few months, and I finally decided to sign up and go for it.  The sprint (Tiny) race is an 800 m. swim, 25K bike, 5K run.

I got there early, got everything set up, and nervously bounced around waiting for the race to start.  The pro triathlete who's helped me with some of my swimming, Travis, was there for the Small Texan (olympic distance race), and he talked me into a short, slow jog before the race started.  That sounded pretty crazy to me, considering that I was just hoping that I'd have the endurance to finish the race, but it was better than standing still, so I went along with it.

The Small Texan racers started first, and Travis was the first one out of the water by a minute and a half.  Then, it was time for the Tiny racers to start.  (You're probably picturing elves right now.)     I had done one open water swim before the race, so I knew I probably wouldn't panic in the water, but I wasn't willing to fight it out with the other racers at the start.  I'm not a fast swimmer and I had no intention of getting run over.  I hung back and started nearly last.  Apparently, I then passed other swimmers, but since everyone was fairly spread out in the water, I didn't really realize that.  I am terrible at swimming straight in open water.  It's harder than it looks.  The buoys were placed 200 m apart, and I stayed on track by looking up every so often and course correcting.  In politics and in swimming, I lean right.  After about 500 meters, I became pretty convinced that I was coming in dead last.  I wasn't really looking for a fast finish, but it made me remember what Nathan had said after his first tri, "You just don't want to be in the water so long that everyone knows your name and is cheering for you."  That made me laugh- yes, even while I was swimming- and I just kept going.  Turns out I wasn't last by a long shot, but since I could see people ahead of me and no one was passing me, it just felt like it.

Coach Eddie, Boerne's swim coach extraordinaire, was there to watch Travis, and Travis' mom and girlfriend came as well.  I got to borrow them to be my cheer squad too!  I ran up the hill (uphill proved to be the theme of the day) out of the lake and into the transition area, hopped on my bike and headed out.  (Thanks, Katlyn, for the pictures!)

The ride started out along the I-10 access road.  It was a little hilly (something I never realized when driving in the car!) but not too bad at all.  I started to feel pretty confident.  We Tiny racers turned around just after the Welfare Country Club (ritzy place, let me tell you) and PoPo's restaurant.  (All the German speakers should feel free to snicker.  No, I've never eaten there.)  We actually had to head back just as things were getting scenic.  The announcer had said before the race that, on the way back, we would pass the lake and go in the other direction "for a little bit" to make it a true 25K ride.  No problem, I could do a little bit.

Well, his definition of a little bit and my definition of a little bit are clearly different.  Oh my goodness, the hills!  I just became determined not to walk up any of them.  And I didn't.  It was beautiful and scenic in a Texas sort of way, with a view of the lake after the turnaround, but my lack of training on the road started to become apparent.  I don't care how much I crank up the resistance on my trainer, it's not the same as actually riding uphill.

I still felt good coming out of the bike, though I knew I had slowed considerably during that last "little bit" (which I think was at least 1/3 of the ride.)  I got back into transition, slipped on my running shoes, and took off up the rocky hill for the run.  And then I hit the dam.  I had heard people mention the dam- how hot it was, how hard it was to run at the end of the race- but now I knew what all the fuss was about.  It was soooo hot!  I felt like an egg in a frying pan, and I was pretty certain that I had used every last ounce of power in my legs biking up those hills.  At this moment, I was really worried that I was going to have to walk the run, but I pushed ahead, and kept going as best I could.  The run revealed another problem with my training- no heat acclimation.  I work out on a treadmill in the air conditioning.  My body had no idea what to do with the temperatures I was dealing with.  The aid station and its cold water seemed forever away!  And I have to admit, I was kind of shocked with how I was feeling.  I'm not a fast runner, but my 5K pace is pretty consistent, so I felt confident that I could handle the run.  Halfway through, my legs were cramping so badly (holdover from the bike) that I could see my muscles spasming.  I stopped to work that out, and then, coming back across the dam, I finally realized that I just HAD to keep an even pace.  There was a lady who was running more slowly than my usual pace, but she was being consistent.  I got behind her and just followed her to the finish line.  Thanks #177!

At the finish line, I picked up my medal and WATER, carefully made my way down to the lake and cooled off!!  My final times were 800m swim: 23:57; 25K bike 1 hr, 9 min; 5K run 37:04.  Total time: 2:13:34.  I actually came in third in my age group, which surprised me because I felt SO slow.  I guess it helps that everyone else was having to deal with the same hills and heat.  (Travis came in first in his age group and third all around for the olympic distance.  The top three finishers were all pros.  And it actually took him just 10 minutes longer to finish twice the distance that I covered.  Ah, well, the joys of being young.)

I had a great time, and there wasn't a single moment during the race that I regretted signing up for it (not even on the dam!)  I had some great inspiration along the way:  On the swim, I could hear Coach Eddie: "Steady, even pace."  Coach Travis: "Ten strokes then look up or else you're going to end up in the middle of the lake." On the bike, "Coach" Dad: "Don't coast- keep pedaling!"  Amanda, who got me started on this craziness: "You've got to start taking these hills, Aimee!" Trust me, after struggling up the hills- I wasn't chickening out and braking on the way down.   And the most inspiring of all, little Carsten, "Mommy, I hope you win your race!"

Not win, buddy, finish.  And that's a win in my book.