I Run, Therefore I Am (Crazy)

She's done it again. My oldest sister, Angie, conned me into - I mean, persuaded me to commit to training for a half marathon. Not to mention the actual running of the race with the expectation of finishing part. Oh, yeah, and coughing up 65 bucks to do it. Seriously? Who pays to run? (The definition of "run" in this sense being "to put yourself through unnecessary, grueling torture for an extended period of time. . . in running shoes"). Apparently I pay to run, in more ways than one.

First, I may need to provide a bit of background. My relationship with running has gone a little something like this:

(Somewhere around the age of 12ish)
I hate you running. I can't fathom why anyone would like you.

(Age 14-17)
I still hate you running, but I'll tolerate the smallest amount of you to get a good grade in P.E. But don't expect me to like it!

About this time I asked for Billy Blanks' Tae Bo videos for Christmas. I punched and kicked and round-housed (double time!) like nobody's business. We were as tight as his ridiculous and uncomfortably revealing uni-tards. But it was pretty great. It seemed running would never show it's face again until...

(Freshman year at Ricks College)
Running calls and I say I'm busy. Calls back later and I say I sprained my ankle in volleyball. Calls a third time and I'm out with Billy. (These are all real reasons, by the way) I don't hear from Running for a while until it catches me off guard and corners me. This was before I learned the art of saying kindly but firmly, "No, but thanks for asking" and Running and I go out. Hm. Not as bad as I thought. We go out a few more times and my vicious hatred begins to lessen...

(Age 20-23)
Running follows me to BYU. It becomes so persuasive that I decide to sign up for my first 5K. I thought I was going to DIE (as depicted below)



When I reached what I thought was the last home stretch into the gate of the track and field area on campus, I mustered that last bit of strength in me and sprinted to the end. Come to find out there was still one lap around that evil black track to finish. I felt like I could barely walk but somehow managed to heave myself across the finish line, yet not without cursing that last 1/4 of a mile surprise. But once the misery (and string of curses) ended, something happened: the pain quickly morphed into relief . . . then satisfaction . . . and finally an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Kim, the non-runner that I was, actually ran a whole 3.1 miles without stopping. A feat I had never imagined in my life, nor ever wanted to imagine, for that matter. But it was a turning point.. or really, a starting point, for the road ahead.

Over the next few years, I continued to run a few 5k/10k races here and there, ran outside in the summer and on the treadmill at the gym in the winter. Keep in mind, I never loved the act of running (it felt like torture every time) but enjoyed the feeling afterwards and overall fitness it provided. As Angie continued to run more and more until she trained for and ran her first marathon, the thought of me ever running 26.2 miles was complete craziness -- a thing only real runners do who really love running. My running was more like a slightly-quicker-than-a-stroll at best. But I did it for the exercise and that was good enough for me.

Fast forward to now. I've got a few more little races under my belt (some 5ks, 10ks, a relay marathon completed with all my four sisters (five miles each), and *gasp* one Salt Lake City Half Marathon in 2008, thank-you-very-much). I kind of oscillate between running consistently and working out at the gym. About two months ago, Angie called me up to see if I was interested in running the Canyonlands Half Marathon in Moab this March. Somewhere in my mind the echo of my 12-year-old loathing softly played out. But then I surprised myself: I said "yes". And not just a "Well... I guess I could think of maybe, possibly considering it... meehh" I said "Sure, I think I'd like that" and I meant it. Who is this? Who have I become? Part of my 12-year-old in me died (not without an "I'm meeeeeltiiiing!" -esque screech) but I think it's a good thing. No, I KNOW it is.

What else teaches me to work harder, to reach then quickly pass limits that seemed so daunting in the beginning? What else has kept me going, day by day, week by week, and challenges me in a way that no other physical activity has done? Not to mention the mental and emotional obstacles that stretch and strengthen my mind and heart while I'm out on the road. Running is such a personal thing and can mean something so different from one runner to the next. For me it has become a way to lose weight (15 pounds since Jan. 4th!), a more and more enjoyable activity when I do it right, and a reason to push myself towards goals on foot and in life.

So, I guess I can thank Angie for the suggestion. She's my inspiration and fellow partner of perspiration (for reals.. you should see us. . . actually, no, you shouldn't). Maybe some day I'll work up to a full 26.2 miles of craziness. But for now, I'll take half the crazy. If only I could pay half the money. I'll keep on hoping... and hopefully keep on running.


Sorry, Billy.

Karma Must'a Forgot About Me

What is luck, anyway? Does it really exist? What about good fortune, karma, or destiny? Luck by any other name would smell as sweet. . . Ok, I'm not going to get all Shakespeare on you. I'm just posing these philosophicals because I can't think of a better intro to this post. That reminds me of a movie quote, "What's with you today?" "What's with today, today?"

But I digress.

I've never really been a believer in the attitude of, "Well, if it was meant to be" dot, dot, dot. I remember discussing this with The Becca years ago and agreeing that it is a cop-out attitude that takes away our responsibility. You are in charge of your life, not Mr. Fate or Señora Suerte (translation: Mrs. Luck -- I also wonder why she's Spanish). No offense to any of you who believe in such crazy antics. I guess I opt to create my own destiny, if you must call it that. However, I do concede to the notion that sometimes crazy coincidences occur that can either be positive or negative depending on the person, place, situation, etc. So what am I babbling about? Well I'll tell you.

Not long ago, Kyle and I bought a few items at the grocery store. As we walked up to the self check-out station and started scanning our schtuff, I noticed a $20 bill eyeing me from the cash return slot. What did I do? (This would be a great "Choose your own adventure!" blog but you have to stick with the "I'll just tell you what I did, 'aight?") I immediately took the $20 and handed it to a store employee explaining it was left by the previous customer. I didn't really give it a second thought. We finished our purchase and were out the door only moments later.

Later that night, we were given free tickets to a Jazz game. We had fun, they won by three in OT (luckily... I mean, wait - never mind) and we were in the process of leaving the Energy Solutions Arena when I realized I left my jacket on my seat. I retrieved my jacket but realized my phone fell out of my pocket in the process (in the midst of a herd of exiting fans). We immediately checked Lost & Found, called my phone about a zillion times in case someone heard it. . . but nada. The phone was stolen - in two measly minutes.

The fact that my phone was stolen irked me quite a bit (and I don't really get irked too easily). The cold truth is some people care less about doing the morally right thing and more about personal gains. Sad, but true. The irony to me is the amount it cost for me to buy a new sim card for a previously used phone provided by Kyle's bro was, yep, you guess it - $20 (give or take a few but come on, go with me on the poetic injustice here). Remember the $20 I returned from the grocery store? Was it fate . . or luck? Should I have taken the $20 since it's not really the store's money but some forgetful customer? They were probably long gone anyway. . . right?

I don't tell this story to pat myself on the back while griping about my loss of faith in the goodness of humanity. I guess I tell it because I think Karma owes me one. I try to be a good person, be honest, smile at strangers, and, you know.. vote. Can't I catch a little break? But then again, if I wonder why people do bad things, why do I do good? To feel good? Isn't that a personal gain? The funny thing is, as I grumbled about the punk who stole my phone and all the reasons why and how I thought most people were over being petty thieves, I wondered what I would have done if the $20 presented itself AFTER the cell phone heist. Would I have been annoyed and angry at the world and decided it was a measly $20 that no one was going to miss and, hey, I deserve it, don't I? . . .

. . .

No. I know myself. I would have done the same thing I did before. Not because I'm a saint but because it's not mine to take. One could call it luck, or fate, or good fortune giving me a chance to break a little even. But I wouldn't because I can always choose the good. I'd rather have that than the $20.

And it wouldn't hurt to have my cell phone back, too. (I miss you, little guy)

The Top 10 Reasons Why Online Dating Worked For Me

Yes. It's a fact. Yours Truly and Yours Truly's hubby actually met, went a-courtin', and shared nuptial vows on the World Wide Web. Ok, not really all that - just the meeting part. For most of you readers, this is old news. But for some, it may be a surprise. To those I say, "Uh... surprise!"

Since Kyle and I started dating seriously, conversations with other people usually went something like this:

"Wow he's 6'8''? That's so stinkin' tall!"
"Yeah, it is."
"But you're tall too, so that's good."
"Yeah. . . it is" (I was rather eloquent back then)
"So, how'd you guys meet?"

This was the inevitable moment of the conversation I dreaded. I'm not really sure why. I wasn't ashamed of how we met, but when you reveal that you met someone 'online' you can get a myriad of responses ranging from mildly curious to rather appalled. Actually, to be fair, no one really freaked out when I told them but there were definitely a few that became uncomfortable with the idea and regressed back to how tall our kids were going to be (we've already had several dibs to be their agents should they play for the Jazz . . . and if they turn out to be black). I can't really blame them. I think online dating used to carry a negative stigma that people who set up profile of themselves were desperate, couldn't find a date in the "normal" (offline) world, or only the social rejects did that sort of thing. The key words in this sentence are "used to". Times have changed, yo (fo' rizzle). This is the 21st century where one can practically do anything and everything by clicking a few times here and typing a few words there. Some businesses rely solely on selling their product online. Families and friends stay connected better than ever before in history. It's no wonder the Dating Scene has also been effected by the Dot.Com industry.

My mind has been on the subject as of late because three friends of mine (you know who you are:) unbeknownst to each other, asked me for advice and/or about my experience with online dating. One even called me the 'Resident Expert'. Well. . .ahem. . I wouldn't say that (yes, I would) but I have had experience on the matter and some advice to go with it (really good advice, too.) That's why I came up with The Top 10 Reasons Why Online Dating Worked For Me. I realize this is based uniquely on my opinions and real-life experiences. But hey, inquiring minds want to know. OK, they don't really but this is my blog, dang it, and TRAX told me to do it:

#10 I wasn't an idiot
Plain and simple. Though I have to give credit to Jodie as she gave her sisterly advice so frequently when we were living together (thanks, Jo!). If I decided to meet someone in person, I met them in public, provided my own transportation, and kept it short and sweet. I heard about a true story in the news of a girl meeting up with a guy she met online at 3AM in a KMart parking lot. . .then was surprised when he didn't have the best of intentions. Seriously? Was she an idiot? Most likely.


#9 I was myself
Precious, I know. But true. I never tried to make myself out to be something more or less than I was. I mean, I'm awesome, but I didn't fabricate over exaggerate any details of my awesomness. I just was.


#8 I didn't take it too seriously
Just like most things in life. I tried to keep things light and fun and tried not to expect anything more than meeting someone new. Which segues into #7..

#7 I didn't set too high of expectations (or too low for that matter)
Jodie and I joke about always setting low expectations for things you do and you'll always be pleased. Though it's all in fun, relating to meeting people online, I didn't try to expect anything amazing. I definitely expected to be treated right, but I didn't expect to find an instant husband.


#6 I learned to discern
It sounds like a inspirational statement D.A.R.E officers teach kids: Learn to Discern! I always felt I could detect sincerity (or lack thereof) and motives from those I met. Some may disagree with me saying there are people out there who can deceivingly paint any picture they want. But, and don't take this personally any of you men out there, men are not very subtle creatures. They usually say exactly what they're thinking and don't skirt around issues as much as us women do. If there were ever times I felt uneasy about someone, I didn't continue the correspondence, easy as that.


#5 I took chances
Again, some may disagree saying, "It's too risky! Too dangerous!" To that I say, refer to #10 and #6. I'm talking about the chances I took on some that I didn't really think we'd mesh with well or maybe he wasn't "my type". I met some great people, found out a lot about myself and what I wanted/didn't want in a partner. I wouldn't have been able to do that if I didn't take some (safe) chances. (p.s. Though I didn't do it often, I was the one who saw Kyle's profile and wrote him an email first. . and now here were are).

#4 I only had profiles on LDS websites
This is just for me. There are many other reputable and good dating sites that are not LDS sites. And there are some LDS sites that *gasp* have some not-so-great people on them scoping out the prospects. But for me, they worked well and I felt it worthy to use as a reason.


#3 I was patient
At times I felt it wasn't worth my time because I didn't see very much success. I took off my profile a few times then would put it back on. But overall I started to realize patience was the key and to just enjoy the ride.

#2 I didn't spend all my time online
In other words, I had a life. I spent a lot of time with Jodie and Becca while we lived together and we were involved with a lot of friends. We were also active in snowboarding, biking, and I trained for and ran a half-marathon. I didn't wait around on the computer. They might have said a bit otherwise (the roomies) but I did these things for the most part.

#1 I only went for the tall ones
. . And look which tall one I got! I've heard people say that when you meet someone that is right for you, it's not complicated or difficult or hard. . it just works. And that's how I felt with Kyle. Since the beginning, I always felt comfortable with him and loved that we seemed to mesh well. And it didn't hurt that he was a good 8 inches taller than me.

So there you have it. I may not have been perfect at each of these reasons, but overall I tried to implement them and found it was worth it in the end. Now I don't mind so much anymore when people ask how we met. It's not a typical story but it's our story (awww). I know that internet dating isn't for everyone, but it worked for me. . .as well as our future, giant, NBA-bound children. I'm sure they'll thank me one day.

Caught Red Cupcake'd

Have you ever tried to be super sneaky about something. . .or better said, you're in the act of sneakiness when you're totally and utterly caught? You know, the whole 'deer caught in headlights', 'this isn't what you think!' reaction? Yeah, that happened to me today. The funny thing is, I didn't even have the need to sneak, I was completely justified in my actions. And yet, when I was 'caught' I felt extremely guilty. Let me explain.

I work 10-hour days. They get long, and I get hungry. Every single day. Imagine that. I don't always pack myself enough food to last me through the day before my stomach starts eating itself. And trust me, it can get ugly. I strategically staggered my intake of fuel for the day so I didn't end up starving by quittin' time and around 11am-ish, I was grabbing my goodies for 2nd breakfast in the break room. I saved my last oh-so-delicious pumpkin cupcake which Kyle made (for reals) delicately on the shelf in the fridge and patted it endearingly like you'd pat a four-year-old's head for doing something good. Just then, I had this sudden Gollum-like obsession for The Ring (a.k.a Tasty Little Cupcake) surge into me from no where (Kim's stomach: that "no where" was me). There was no one in the room, of which I didn't consciously note previously, but maybe subconsciously it triggered the subsequent action. I literally dove for the cupcake with aforementioned Gollum-crazed lust. I'm pretty sure the words, "My precious!" sizzled from my quivering lips. I shoved the innocent cupcake in my mouth thinking, "I deserve one measly bite" and began to devour. I was even hunched over the fridge in my maniacal moment. But it was a moment of cupcake bliss. . . and it was also a moment. Suddenly, a fellow hospital worker walked in. Cue deer caught in headlights. It was ever so brief but in that brief I felt like the room went pitch black and an unforgiving spotlight exposed my baked goods rampage. I quickly looked at my cupcake which seemed to blankly stare back at me stating, "don't look at me, ya freak". From every vantage point, even from my own, it appeared as if this was not my cupcake and I was taking it for my own. But I wasn't'! It was mine! All mine, dangit!



I mumbled something about how I was just chomping on my cupcake and she smiled and said, "Chomp away" while directing her attention elsewhere, purposely or not, I'm not sure. But I could see something in that smile. I would have made that smile if I were in her shoes. Partly because she usually wears really cute shoes, but more for witnessing this moment of mine. Thankfully she is very friendly and seems unassuming so it wasn't a big deal, but I was glad to swallow my remaining evidence and quickly retreat to my office.

I don't get embarrassed too easily but I have to admit, I was a little. I laughed it off and started thinking about those moments. The moments we all undoubtedly have where we throw caution to the wind and, knowingly or not, expose our true-yet-extreme selves. Do you have any of those? Was it satisfying or embarrassing? Mine was a little of both. In this case, the experience was induced by my obvious hunger, but for others it may be something else. A range of different emotions may be the instigators as well as a big one, fatigue. (Case in point, this morning it took three attempts for me to push the right button to the floor I wanted to exit from the elevator because I was so tired and not thinking straight. I laughed about it but the woman with me didn't think it was so funny. Great day for me, no?).

I guess my point is. . . embrace these moments. Laugh at it, enjoy it, poke fun at it if you have to. I'm mainly telling myself this, of course. And, if you find yourself the deer in a moment of awkward and/or paralyzing exposition, be sure to have a cupcake on hand. It will taste much better.

Buckle up, here we go...

I heart TRAX. I really do. Ever since I decided to sell my car and thus rid myself of such nagging grown-up responsibilities like the monthly car and insurance payments, gas fill-ups, regular oil changes and washes, with the occasional vanilla tree air freshener (I know, it was very needy), it has been, in the words of my sister, Lynde, "just lovely". Even though I am anti-early-morning-riser all the way (I have a lengthy pros and cons list on the subject. . .sans pros), I actually don't mind getting up a little earlier than needs be to ride the Utah Transit Authority's Public Transportation System to and from work. And that's saying A LOT because I also heart sleep. Like, double heart.

Whilst aboard TRAX, I have been enjoying a roughly 35 min. (give or take a few depending on the level of the train operator's compassion meter for the frantic student/businessman(woman)/cyclist sprinting to the doors before he/she closes them) worry-free, ever-so-jostly oasis of free time all to myself. And about 20 strangers. Today would have been 21 but apparently the meter was low. Usually I take advantage of said moments by reading. Morning is for the spiritual jump-start before a busy day; afternoon is for whatever library book I've undoubtedly renewed and at least once. I would return them sooner if I didn't pontificate so frequently with my fellow TRAX riders about the book's contents. . . ok, fine, I like to look at the pictures. When I finished my latest book last week, I considered which paperback to be my next TRAX time-passer victim. I took too long considering because when I boarded today after a long day at work, ready to dive into some good literature and let the commute float by, I was unprepared -- no book. I foresaw two options in my immediate future: 1) Initiate an extremely awkward and uncomfortable staring contest with a complete stranger (you'd be surprised at my "Blue Steel" capabilities), or 2) Read more from the Good Word (remember from the morning routine?). As I scoffed at the idea that I could become even MORE enlightened than I already am (shifty eyes scanning for lightning bolts) a figurative light bulb illuminated above my head, "You should start your blog!" After realizing it was more of a neon sign bearing the message than a light bulb, I started to think. . . Kind of bossy but not a bad idea.

For a few weeks I had determined to join the World of Blog and start one of my very own, but I was struggling with choosing the right name. Also, the right idea. What did I want to write about? I just got married this year, I could be "KSqaured" inspired by the Ks in Kim and Kyle and write about the wackies and wiles of our married life. Or, I thought about titling my blog, "The Nice One" from a nickname my family gave me and expose the truth that I'm not so nice after all (surely riveting, I know). Although an entry about that story will likely ensue, I decided not to go for it. And besides, it was taken (dang you, other nice one!). As I took my seat on TRAX, it all started coming together: Instead of reading on the TRAX ride home, why don't you write your blog? You always complain about having no time to do it. Well, here's your chance. And, hey, your last name is Day, you could play with that. . . (wheels a-turning)

. . . And so it begins. From the weird, to the funny, to the random, to the delightfully clever and yet surprisingly poignant.. this is me. . on TRAX. Any questions? I can't promise anything but I can promise it will be written while I ride TRAX. Don't be confused, I'm not writing about TRAX, I'm writing while on TRAX, but riding at the same time. Makey sensey? It's kind of like the saying, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade". Well, when life hands me TRAX, I turn it into a blog. Take that, lemonade.

Hope you enjoy the ride!