j . a . m . k . m . b: Hello Saturday, October 2

Pres. Thomas S. Monson, Oct 2008

"This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and non-existent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now.

... Professor Harold Hill, one of the principal characters in [The Music Man], voices a caution that I share with you. Says he, “You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you’ve collected a lot of empty yesterdays.”

f you have children who are grown and gone, in all likelihood you have occasionally felt pangs of loss and the recognition that you didn’t appreciate that time of life as much as you should have. Of course, there is no going back, but only forward. Rather than dwelling on the past, we should make the most of today, of the here and now, doing all we can to provide pleasant memories for the future.

Stresses in our lives come regardless of our circumstances. We must deal with them the best we can. But we should not let them get in the way of what is most important—and what is most important almost always involves the people around us. Often we assume that they must know how much we love them. But we should never assume; we should let them know. Wrote William Shakespeare, “They do not love that do not show their love.”³ We will never regret the kind words spoken or the affection shown. Rather, our regrets will come if such things are omitted from our relationships with those who mean the most to us.

Send that note to the friend you’ve been neglecting; give your child a hug; give your parents a hug; say “I love you” more; always express your thanks. Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved. Friends move away, children grow up, loved ones pass on. It’s so easy to take others for granted, until that day when they’re gone from our lives and we are left with feelings of “what if” and “if only.” Said author Harriet Beecher Stowe, “The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.”

In the 1960s, during the Vietnam War, Church member Jay Hess, an airman, was shot down over North Vietnam. For two years his family had no idea whether he was dead or alive. His captors in Hanoi eventually allowed him to write home but limited his message to less than 25 words. What would you and I say to our families if we were in the same situation—not having seen them for over two years and not knowing if we would ever see them again? Wanting to provide something his family could recognize as having come from him and also wanting to give them valuable counsel, Brother Hess wrote—and I quote: “These things are important: temple marriage, mission, college. Press on, set goals, write history, take pictures twice a year.”

Said one well-known author: “Both abundance and lack [of abundance] exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend . . . when we choose not to focus on what is missing from our lives but are grateful for the abundance that’s present—love, health, family, friends, work, the joys of nature, and personal pursuits that bring us [happiness]—the wasteland of illusion falls away and we experience heaven on earth.”

Said the Lord in a revelation given through the Prophet Joseph Smith, “In nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things.”¹⁰ May we be found among those who give our thanks to our Heavenly Father. If ingratitude be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues.

Brothers and sisters, my sincere prayer is that we may adapt to the changes in our lives, that we may realize what is most important, that we may express our gratitude always and thus find joy in the journey."

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Hello Saturday, October 2

Six months ago today I had my knee surgery. Seems like it hasn't been that long, but I'm definitely glad to be on this side of it than the other. While it generally feels good, I have only just started going out on some tentative, short runs this past week. It's ok that it takes a while to heal fully, as long as it does...

This morning is a big tradition for our family. For many years we have been in St George, UT for the wonderful and challenging St George marathon. I have run it 8 times, Angela has done it 6. It's funny how we really miss being there this year. So in honor of our good times there, and in early preparation for next year when I WILL be back there, here are my favorite memories of STG:

The training - it has to start with the training - long, laborious, fun when with good running partners
The anticipation - starts really building on the drive out there
The Expo - fighting the crowds and parking congestion (especially if you go late in the day on Friday), always seem to see old friends, fun to browse the booths, and of course, getting the race packet & timing chip mean it's finally real
The dinner - fretting about what to eat, and where - in the end being happy to stay at the condo and cook a good normal dinner
The race prep - laying out clothes and gear, pinning number to jersey, arranging gels, maybe going over a pace chart if feeling like the next day could be fast
The down time - hard to go to bed too early, so maybe watch a movie, a game, anything to relax
The fitful night - not too much sleep, seems like as soon as you start actually sleeping the alarm goes off in the total dark
The bus - getting to Worthen Park, usually with some degree of stress to not miss the buses, boarding a bus for the drive up Snow Canyon, wishing I hadn't started hydrating already, wishing I had an empty Gatorade bottle for emergency use because I had started hydrating already
The starting line - music, lights, bonfires, a long row of port-o-lets, people everywhere, lots of nervous energy and jitters, sometimes freezing, sometimes not too bad, meeting friends, waiting in line at the 'Lets, stripping off layers, throwing the clothing bag into the Uhaul, feeling uncomfortable in all my lubed regions, stretching cold muscles, fighting into the crowds all cramming over to the road, trying not to lose friends and running partners, getting watch ready, wishing I'd used the 'Let one more time, wondering how I was going to actually run with all those people around
The Horn - hearing the horn go off, the crowd slowly starting to inch forward, the surreal feeling of "wow, I guess this is when I start running after all these months...", seeing the starting banner and timing pad approaching, hitting Start on my watch as I cross the start line, and here we go
The race - starting in the dark wishing it was a little lighter, winding and gently rolling hills for the first 6 miles, pulling over once or twice to water the sage brush, coming down into the tiny town of Veyo for the first spectators, Veyo hill looming, slogging up Veyo hill, cresting Veyo hill and feeling the sun for the first time, realizing it's going to be a hot day, dreading the long slow 3-mile steady incline through Dameron valley, wishing it was darker, making it to the top of Dameron Valley, anticipating Snow Canyon where family and friends will greet you, running down into Snow already feeling tired and maybe a little cramping starting to peak through, stopping for a quick drink and hug from the fam, pushing through the wall at mile 18, starting to anticipate running down into the city as you near miles 21 and 22, super steep hills - both up and down - that really hurt, some years hitting full leg cramp mode that requires a few unplanned walking sessions, dropping down into St George amid the spectators and heat, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, seeing runners sitting on the street or curb, pushing on because you have to, rounding seemingly endless twists and turns, and all of a sudden there's the finish line, the longest slightly uphill finishing straight known to man, the crowds cheering wildly on either side of the barriers, the announcer calling out names as you near the timing pad, crossing the finish line with arms raised, the glorious feeling of being able to stop, volunteers cutting off your timing chip, putting a medal around your neck, enjoying the coolness of the misters, heading for the food
The food - Great Harvest bread is my favorite if I have the energy to eat, more liquids, a banana and other fruit
The park - grabbing a massage ticket, searching for family and friends, taking pictures, staying cool or staying warm - depending on the year, rejoicing or agonizing over the run - again depending on the year
The massage - painful, heaven
The end

j . a . m . k . m . b

Pres. Thomas S. Monson, Oct 2008

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Hello Saturday, October 2

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