Monday, February 15, 2016

20. Take a Class: Cake Decorating

Growing up in our house, birthdays were a BIG deal.  While my mom ran a home daycare, every birthday party was an opportunity for her to celebrate each child and make him/her feel special.  The CAKE was the target attraction. In the days leading up to the celebration, she would let the birthday girl or boy choose whatever character they wanted to adorn their cake.  The rest of us with bustle with anticipation as we waited for the reveal of the confectionery labor of love.  Some of my favorites over the years included: Cookie Monster, Ghost Busters, a 3-D Care Bear, and My Little Ponies.

Going over-the-top for birthday celebrations is still a tradition in our house (ah-hem, i.e. the purpose of this blog) and the importance of the cake has not wavered.  Now that the next generation is rolling in for my sisters, it seems like a great time to step up to the plate to carry on the family decorating tradition.  I signed up for the same Wilton Cake Decorating class that my mom took almost 30 years ago.  She took her class at Sears; I took mine at Michael's. 

Lesson #1: Cake decorating is expensive.  Tips. Pastry bags. Dye. Spatulas.  To be honest, did I NEED all of these supplies? Probably not...but now I get giddy whenever I am in the cake decorating aisle to see what I can add to my decorating set.

Lesson #2: Cake decorating is harder than it looks. Decorating takes a lot of grip strength, patience, a steady hand, and consistency.  I needed A LOT of practice.

  
 


Lesson #3:  Cake is forgiving.  When I mess up (which is often), there is usually a way to fix it.
 Okay, so there wasn't a fix for this one.  Lesson learned: Don't fall asleep while a Fun-Fetti cake is in the oven.

Lesson #4: Mixing cake batter and frosting with my Grandma's Kitchen-Aid mixer makes them taste better.  I am pretty sure it is her love coming through.  It's the same Kitchen-Aid mixer that we used to make strawberry mousse when I was in elementary school.  We think she bought in the late 80s or early 90s, but it works as good as new!


 Lesson #5: Cake Decorating is an art-form.  I have barely gotten started, but have enjoyed it so far.  After practicing level 1 skills a bit more, I am looking forward to taking my Level 2 Wilton Class.


 NB: We're still working on the handwriting...



Monday, August 3, 2015

19. Enter a Contest

Contest - an event in which people compete for supremacy in a sport, activity, or particular quality

As most of you know, I am a highly competitive person.  Ironically, my competitive nature has created a disdain from entering athletic competitions as early as high school.  I loved doing athletic activities, but not performing in them. I didn't like the monster that crept inside of me during competition which led me to compare myself to others - mentally belittling one of the two in the process.  So I opted out.  In swimming, my coach practically had to beg me to register for meets.  In rec sports, I sidelined myself to avoid the pressures of comparing my performance to others.  And let's be honest, I don't have baller skills...so the team captains were probably satisfied enough with this.

Running, on the other hand, has always created a beautiful forum for my competitive ego.  Unless you are intending to finish in the top 5 of your age group, you are just one more face among the crowd on the racecourse.  The real competition is confined to you and the clock.  My performance is independent of every other racer out there (unless you get boxed in...or someone falls and takes you out too...hate it when that happens!). 

Likewise, Crossfit has been an excellent blessing to my life.  Both gyms I have worked with have created an atmosphere of loving encouragement amongst members.  If I am having an off day, but my rig neighbor is on-point, we celebrate her victory, not my loss.  Likewise, when I have been huffing and puffing at the end of the WOD and the clock times out with 25 wallballs left, my roommate (who finished with time to spare) has picked up a wallball and finished the last 25 with me by my side (thanks Linz).  Amidst this loving encouragement, the competition (and my monster within) has remained contained.

With this spirit of fellowship, and encouragement from my coaches, I entered the Crossfit Open.  The Open is a worldwide competition amongst Crossfit athletes.  For 5 weeks, a weekly workout is performed by each athlete, judged by their affiliate, and scored against every other athlete in their division around the world.  It is the ultimate benchmark to see how you are progressing, but also to discover your areas of weakness.

In the words of my coaches, "You should think of this as a celebration, not a competition.  The Open is a serious competition for about 1% of the participants.  For the rest it’s a celebration of their affiliate, the entire CrossFit community, the hardwork they’ve put in and all the blood, sweat, laughter and tears that have been spilt over the past year.  This is a chance for you to celebrate your fitness."

And so the celebration began.  To prepare, I committed to logging in consistency with my work outs at the gym.  I cut out alcohol. I changed to a strict Paleo diet...which lasted 4 days...but overall improvements were made . I forced myself to go to bed earlier. I prepared in all the ways I knew how.

Here is what the CrossFit Open taught me:
1. I am stronger than I thought.  Truly, I hit a few PRs in the work outs in the midst of fatigue, when you would least expect to PR.  Looking down the road, this means no more sand-bagging. It's time to dig deep!

2. My weaknesses are many.  Having someone judge every rep to ensure it was performed to regulation standards was eye-opening.  I've been cutting corners which I hadn't intended to.  Things which should have been easy were made harder when precision was demanded.  Each weakness presented an opportunity for work and improvement.

3. I can dream bigger.  Having only recently mastered minored a pull-up, I had long written off muscle-ups as impossible.  I had never even attempted one. When 15.3 debuted with 7 muscle ups to start, I had to at least try for one.  Did I get it? Heck no...but it was the first time I had ever swung from the rings.  Now the mental seed has been planted.  I can taste it. One day, muscle-ups...one day.

4.  Sometimes it's not you, it's the rope.  I have been trying to get Double Unders (DUs) since I started CrossFit over two years ago.  First, I had to master regular jump roping, which was a feat in itself.  For the past year, I have worked pretty consistently on DUs with my own jump rope to little avail. Finally, someone recommended I shorten the my jump rope by 2 inches.  And like magic, I am finally get DUs. They still aren't pretty, and I can only get one at a time, but progress is being made.  Some days it's not you that is the problem...it really is the rope.

5. Community makes all of the difference.  My affiliate split us into teams to make the Open more fun.  It was a great chance to meet new people who were on my team but typically work out at different times than me.  At first, I was worried that the inter-box competition would make the Open too competitive and spoil the fun.  Thankfully, our team divisions did not diminish the Crossfit spirit of loving encouragement.  The Open just increased our community's fervor for cheering for each other and celebrating our successes.  When the work-outs tried to beat me down, my boxmates were there to cheer me on and push me harder.  

I can't wait for the 2016 Open!
 



 






Thursday, May 7, 2015

18. Do Something that BLOWS Your Mind

I checked with the two people who submitted this challenge...they agreed that this totally counts.  It may not blow YOUR mind, but it definitely blows my mind.
This is not pretty, but here it is.




                         




Okay, some acknowledgements...yes, it is a kipping pull  -up which is notably easier than a strict pull-up.  The army wouldn't accept my kipping pull-up. I am still working on the strict pull-up...but for now, I am basking in the glory of having my chin above the bar.
Secondly, it's not a pretty kipping pull-up.  We are working on that. 

Some of you are saying, "So it's a pull-up. What's the big deal?"  For those of you who have worked out with me, you know this is a big deal!  But let's review the journey of the past two years:


These are resistance bands. They give you a nice boost over the bar. The thicker the band, the more help it gives you.

**Not pictured above is the black band I started with, which is thicker and wider than the green band. (My current gym doesn't even use them.)

When I first started working on pull-ups, using the black band was a struggle.  I probably used a black band for close to a year, before I progressed to 2 green bands. I used 2 greens for about 6 months, before I backed down to 1 green band.  Finally, I used a red and blue band together for about 3 months before tackling kipping pull-ups without bands.  

For work-outs with lots of pull-ups in succession, I am still using a blue band or red-blue combo. Hopefully, the day will come when I can commit to an entire workout of pull-ups without the aid of a band.   

So yes, I still have work to do, but it's been awesome to see the fruits of my labor (with a LOT of help from some pretty awesome coaches, such as: John Champney, Tessa and Steven Waldrep, Gray Tedder, Lindsey Burnette, Ryan Bauer, Cheatham, and Jen Brumfield just to name a few).

Now if I could just master double unders...









Wednesday, March 25, 2015

17. Run a Half Marathon


Yes, I have run a half and even a full marathon before, but this challenge was more than legitimate.  My last solo distance race was the Richmond Marathon of 2010.  It was my fourth marathon.  At the time, I had no idea that I was going to take myself out of running for so long. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but for the past five years it just seems like there has always been a reason NOT to run the Richmond (or any other long race) again.

In fall of 2010, as I was a month away from race day and in the thick of training, my world stopped for a moment.  I clicked the CNN headline about the death of a swimmer, not envisioning that I would read about the death of a swimmer whom I knew.  Fran Crippen was a swimmer at UVA; we met at a student athlete dinner when I was on the crew team. We even took a class together.  I didn’t know him well; we were more acquaintances than friends.  But reading about Fran Crippen,  Fran who was full of life, Fran who I have cheered for in the stands of UVA swim meets, Fran who was a sure contender for the 2012 Olympics, and Fran who drowned during an open water race in the United Arab Emirates, brought my world to a halt.  It was shocking.  It was sad.  It seemed unfair.

Even though I did not know Fran well, his death haunted me.  I don’t know if it was because we were both swimmers, or because he was the first person I knew who died while I was a nurse and having to contend with death on a daily basis, or if it was because he died while swimming, but I could not shake the sadness and the horror of his death. I even had nightmares about it.   

As Marathon day came, I dedicated my race to Fran.  Fran was known for swimming his heart out of every practice and race.  I wanted to honor him by running a race worthy of his legacy. I wanted to PR the heck out of that course. I wanted to leave everything I had on that race course.  Race day came. I felt the most physically prepared I had ever been.  The gun went off. I started well, I was consistent, and when it came time to dig deep and give it my all…I couldn’t.  I can’t explain it. Physically it was there, but mentally it just wasn’t. 

 
Mid-race I changed my strategy.  I decided that instead of crushing the race, I was going to enjoy the race.  I took notice of every smile on the course.  I slapped a high-five to every small hand that was extended.  I noticed the beauty of the leaves I usually rush past.  I had fun.  Instead of the pain being in my legs, it was in my heart as I carried Fran with me.  As I crossed the finish line 4 minutes slower than the year before, part of me was sad that I had disappointed Fran.  Yet, the larger part of me was pretty sure that Fran was smiling down at me from heaven…and not really disappointed in how we had run the race. 

That was my last solo distance race. I didn’t walk away knowing I was going to take a break from running; it just seemed like other things got in the way of running races…until I found some new perspective.

On March 16, 2014, sixteen year-old Cameron Gallagher approached the start line of the Shamrock Half Marathon alongside her best friend Abby Donnelson.  This race was their first half-marathon; it was the completion of a journey to reach their goal they had made months before.  They ran the race well; they fought hard the battle against fatigue.  They crossed the finish line.  And then suddenly, Cameron collapsed into the arms of her parents.  Her heart had gone into an undiagnosed arrhythmia; she died moments later.

Cameron is (and she always will be) the daughter of my dear friend, childhood mentor, and dance instructor, Grace Handy Gallagher.  I encountered Cameron briefly in a chance meeting at my cousin’s birthday party.  Similarly to Fran, her passing was shocking, unimaginably sad, and seemed unfair.  Yet very quickly, the community, led by her parents and siblings, rallied to birth Cameron’s legacy with the SpeakUp 5k.  Cameron had struggled with depression; she wanted to bring awareness to this hidden plight by hosting the “SpeakUp 5k.”  Upon her death, her parents found the detailed outlines of her plan.  Amidst their grief, they turned to her for inspiration in bringing the “SpeakUp 5k” to life. (Please take the time to read more here: http://speakup5k.com/).

The inaugural SpeakUp 5k occurred on a beautiful fall day in September 2014.  Over 3,500 people ran Cameron’s race to honor her legacy.  As I ran alongside my six year old niece, I knew that race wasn’t about the time on the clock, but the beauty of the life it represented.

Cameron’s parents wanted to form a race team to run the Shamrock Half Marathon; the same race course where Cameron’s goal was achieved and her legacy born one year ago.  With this news, it seemed like a great time to come out of distance race retirement.  
 

Seeing Cameron’s parents, David and Grace, at the start line surrounded by over 250 SpeakUp-ers was one of the most inspirational moments I have ever witnessed.  When the race got tough and my legs got tired, I thought of Cameron.  When I felt weak, I thought of the strength and faith of David and Grace and knew I could keep going. When I encountered another SpeakUp-er, we would encourage each other with Cameron’s mantra, “Let’s finish this.” 

I crossed the finish line with a PR and had confidence Cameron was smiling down at all of us running for her that day – PR or not.  Cheering for her now 17-year old best friend Abby, as she crossed the finish line of the Marathon was unfathomably poignant and inspirational.

Fight. Finish. Faith. 

Cameron and Fran were both amazing people.  Even though I hardly knew them in their lives, I have been blessed by their presence immensely.  They both lived lives worthy of inspiration.  I encourage you to take the time to learn more about them and their legacies.  I promise you that you too will be blessed!

Thursday, February 19, 2015

16. Go Belly Dancing

When I asked my friends and family to submit challenges, I warned them to be careful what they wished for, because for outrageous challenges I would force ask them to accompany me.  And so it goes, my fun-loving Aunt Patsy challenged me to go belly dancing...and she happened to find a local belly dancing school that gives lessons  (The Belly Dance School of Richmond found here: http://www.richmondbellydance.com/). 

We decided to have our lesson the Saturday after Christmas to let all of the females in our family join in on the fun.  For some reason, the men did not want to join us...

Our instructor was Ivy. She gave us a quick demonstration of a few traditional dances:


Then she brought on the lessons. We danced to a few songs as a group and then she had every one take turns dancing with me. I quickly learned that the women in my family have some hip shaking skills. I promised that videos would not be allowed...which is probably a good thing...



 
 













NB: Nan is actually a professional; she had some experience in her younger days. She proved those days are not far off.
 

Warning: This is my sister Jenny...she has some crazy good skills. Her hips don't lie.


 


 
 All-in-all we had an amazing time, got a great work-out, started a new family tradition, and made some great memories!

Okay, so not EVERYONE had a good time...


Tuesday, February 17, 2015

15. Re-Read a Childhood Favorite Book: The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles

This childhood classic was written by the great Julie (Andrews) Edwards -- that's right...Mary Poppins herself!  I was introduced to this book in the second grade by my teacher Mrs. Shelley. She was reading the book, her childhood favorite, aloud to our class.  I became so enamored with the book that when Friday came, I was very sad I would have to wait the whole entire weekend before hearing the rest of the story.  My parents took me to Barnes and Noble (in Regency Mall) that night so we could buy the book.  Without looking, I can tell you the book has 277 pages.  In second grade, the thought of reading over 100 pages, without pictures, in a real chapter book seemed daunting.  I started reading where my teacher left off that night; I was finished by Saturday afternoon.  And so began a long history of reading books at night in my bed with the lights turned out, when I should have been asleep...

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles starts as three siblings are sitting in a zoo discussing their favorite animals, when a stranger, Professor Savant, suggests they should consider a Whangdoodle. A whangdoodle is a mythical creature with horns like a moose, bedroom slippers on his feet, and color which changes with his mood.  He used to live in our world, but was forced to retreat to his own Kingdom when man threatened his existence.  There is only one Whangdoodle left; he rules as King over Whangdoodleland, which is home to other now-mythical creatures whose existance was also threatened. 

The Professor trains the children to use their imaginations so that they can gain entry into Whangdoodleland. They set their sights on meeting the Whangdoodle, which requires them to journey through Whangdoodleland to reach his palace where he lives in seclusion.  They encounter several dangers and meet many other creatures during their adventure.

The Last of the Great Whangdoodles teaches several lessons along the way. A few of my favorite quotes:

"Have you noticed how nobody ever looks up? Nobody looks at chimneys, or trees against the sky, or the tops of buildings. Everybody just looks down at the pavement or their shoes. The whole world could pass them by and most people wouldn’t notice." (Pg. 11)

"If you remain calm in the midst of great chaos, it is the surest guarantee that it will eventually subside." (Pg. 98)

"Miracles, contrary to popular belief, do not just happen. A miracle is the achievement of the impossible, and it is only when we put aside our greed, anger, pride, and prejudice so that our minds are open and ready to accept it, that a miracle can occur." (Pg. 166)

“Learn to listen when people are talking. First, it's a great art, and second, it's quite possible that when people say one thing they mean another.” (Pg. 175)

And for the parents, the ultimate chastisement: "Seldom have I seen such a brilliant display of enthusiasm and daring. What a pity that you wasted it on a mere self-indulgence. How much better it would have been had you channeled all that energy and directed it towards something constructive." (Pg. 189)

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles is a fantastic reading experience for both children and adults alike. I highly recommend this classic.





Image result for what does a whangdoodle look like


Friday, January 30, 2015

14. Pray for Something you think is Impossible: Peace in the Dominican Republic


The small Caribbean island of Hispaniola houses two countries: Dominican Republic (DR) and Haiti.  Haiti was colonized by the French and DR by the Spanish.  They have had a tumultuous history and continue to be at odds with one another.  Although both countries are impoverished, Haiti is considered the most impoverished country in the Western Hemisphere. 

For the past three years, I have been blessed to visit DR on January medical mission teams.  The people we serve are actually largely Haitian by descent, though many of them have lived in the DR their whole lives.  In the early 1900s, people emigrated from Haiti to the DR to work in the sugar plane fields.  As their jobs were gradually replaced by machinery, they tried to go back to Haiti but the border was closed to them.  Since then, the people living in bateyes (small communities surrounding sugar cane fields) have been stuck. They are a lost people. Most of them have been born in DR, but they are not granted the rights of citizenship because they are Haitian by descent.  They have little access to health care, they face major impediments to education, and they have few job prospects.

Recently, the government has becoming increasingly less tolerant of the Haitian immigrants. President Danilo Medina, who has brought many reforms to his countryside, has reinvigorated efforts to deport people of Haitian-descent from his borders.  He has continued to blame the Dominican Republic’s financial problems on the Haitians by stating people of Haitian descent are stealing jobs for little pay, draining the country of resources for education and healthcare, and blaming them for the ills of the country.  His attitude and actions have inspired other government and non-government agencies, which have previously sympathized with people of Haitian descent, to publicly testify to “the burden” the Haitians are causing.  These feelings have reinvigorated passion for mass deportation. From what our team of missionaries was told by several sources on the ground, within the next two months people of Haitian-descent will have to possess a national identity card or they will be deported.

 The government has been holding registration days where people can bring their birth certificates and supporting documents to get their registration cards.  From what we understand, these registration days have been a sham.  Each time someone of Haitian-descent goes to a registration day, they will find that the requirements for the supporting documents have changed. The Haitian night guard of our resident missionaries has had to make over six trips to Haiti to get the supporting documents required; he has tried for several months to get his registration card to no avail.  Each time he reports to a registration day, he finds that he is lacking some new document, of which he was not previously informed, that will require another trip to Haiti to procure.  These efforts have cost him over $1000 USD; resources he has only because he is employed by an American missionary.

I am also concerned that there is much confusion amongst Dominicans and people of Haitian-descent as to who faces deportation.  Several people have told me that all people of Haitian-descent who were born in the Dominican Republic are safe from deportation and that the deportation will only affect newly arrived Haitian immigrants; others have stated that all people of Haitian-descent, even those born in the DR, need papers.  I am concerned that so many people are confused by the new regulations and that many people who could be facing deportation are unaware that they need to be taking actions to prevent such an occurrence.

We have heard that even people who were born in the Dominican Republic are still facing trouble getting their national identity cards. If they were born in a hospital in the DR it is possible that they were issued their paperwork; although there are many cases of such people not being issued official paperwork or of them receiving paperwork with inaccuracies (such as the wrong name) which is barring them from getting their identity cards. For those who were not born in the hospital, they have been told that they need seven Dominicans to testify that they witnessed their births in the DR in order to get their papers. I do not have to tell you how impossible that feat will be.

My concern is also fueled by the following observations:

First, many of the bateyes that we have visited over the years have seen drastic improvements in the past few years due to government money: they have new paved roads, their houses now have tile floors instead of mud, and a one of the bateyes we frequent even has had a fish hatchery installed there.  All of this sounds well and good, except why would the government be investing money in these communities for people they are about to deport?  My concern is that they are investing money in these communities so that as soon as the people of Haitian-descent are mass deported, they can move Dominicans into the bateyes in order to permanently displace the Haitians.

Second, many of the missionaries we know who have been living in the Dominican Republic for several years are all of a sudden unable to get their visas renewed.  Many of them are being forced to return to their native countries because they cannot get visas.  I am concerned that the government is forcing them out because they do not want witnesses for what is about to occur in the next few months.  I have been told that the Dominican Archbishop of the Catholic Church has been quoted as warning the missionaries “to mind their own business” in regards to the government’s treatment of people of Haitian-descent.  I am concerned that some Dominican religious leaders are organizing against people who are sympathizing and working with people of Haitian-descent.

Finally, what I find most concerning is a report from our translators about events that happened in the small village of Polo while we were there.  As our team held a clinic in Polo, our translators were graciously fed lunch by a local woman.  She told them that the night before a government vehicle had entered the village, rounded up 15 unsuspecting people who did not have identity cards, and deported them.  This action defies the government’s own timeline; they have been telling people that they still have two months to get their documents before they will be deported.  I fear that it foreshadows events to come where the government will not play by its own rules.

With a reported 800,000 people of Haitian-descent living in Dominican Republic, I am concerned as to what will happen when these people face deportation. We know that families of people who have inter-married face being split up.  What will happen if people who have lived in the Dominican Republic their entire lives (mostly in impoverished conditions) are forcibly removed to a country where they have never lived without any resources? Furthermore, if Haiti closes the border to the people who were born in the Dominican Republic, I fear violence could ensue.

Tensions are mounting in the Dominican Republic. The government is mobilizing.  I think expedient action is needed to prevent violence and chaos from ensuing. How can we prevent this from happening? 

The most obvious way is by prayer.  Changing governments and affecting international politics are going to take divine intervention.  Praying for peace on the island of Hispaniola is a way to dialogue with God to change the hearts of leaders there and to help change our hearts towards compassionate action on behalf of them.

Prayer is a place to begin; it is not an ending to our actions. By praying, we are asking God to use us to be His agents of change. Prayer is a call to action with God’s wisdom, provision, blessing, and Holy Spirit guiding our actions and preparing the path before us.

What can we do?  We can notify our legislators of what is going on.  I have already written my Congressman U.S. Senator Tim Kaine, who served as a missionary in Latin America before law school. I have also contacted the Human Rights Watch – an organization with the mission of not letting actions like this go unnoticed. Their last report on Haitian immigrants in Dominican Republic is from 2002 and can be viewed here: http://www.hrw.org/reports/2002/04/04/illegal-people.  I am awaiting replies from both and looking for other people to engage in what I hope will be a fruitful dialogue.

Please join me in praying for peace on the island of Hispaniola!  Our God created the Universe, the island of Hispaniola, and the soul of every single person who lives there.  He can move hearts and restore peace.  Please join me in praying and be called to action!

I would love additional suggestions of people to contact. I encourage you to contact your Congress-people too!

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has. – Margaret Mead

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hears and your minds in Christ Jesus. – Philippians 4:6-7