Oh, By The Way...

I forgot to tell you.
Guess what I did!
This summer I got to run two half marathons and I want to tell you about them.

The first one was, at first glance, a bust.  After only 1.5 miles I conked out.  I got too excited and messed up my pre-run routine, and started out too fast.  Going up a little hill, my friends took off.  My mentor/coach/Mr. Miagi stayed with me and never left, but I was so upset about doing poorly and not keeping up.  Finally she told me to get over it, and I wouldn't have wanted them to stay with me and wait anyway.  I knew she was right, but I still couldn't enjoy my run.

My Mr. Miagi, Sheri

I started to get all philosophical and began to think about how I've also felt left behind by friends who have all gone on and started families, even though I started the race before many of them.  It was an emotionally exhausting run, as well as a physical one, but I don't think it was as much of a failure and here's why:

My mentor helped me realize that I wouldn't want anyone to wait to start families as I wouldn't want these girls to slow down, and neither did the race end at the finish line.  I didn't stop running, and I've only gotten better.  I've gotten healthier and even ran another half marathon since then.  And this is life too; we are all called upon to exercise our endurance at many different times, and we are all forced to run.  But how we react and become stronger from these events is where the true success lies.

So my excitement at their finish on race day is just as genuine as my excitement when dear friends and family announce pregnancies and have baby showers.  There is nothing that will ever keep me from sharing in their celebration, and knowing that their victory is also my victory.  The God that is writing their story is my God too, and I love that he works in the people I love.

This first race was the Laguna Hills Memorial Day Half, and the second was the Freedom Half in Salt Lake City on Independence Day, which I ran during my recent vacation there.

Night and Day.

It was me, running it myself.  No comparison, only enjoying the ride.  Much of it was downhill, and I had no goals but to enjoy it.  I finished 8 minutes faster than the other one, and I had a blast.  My family was so supportive, and my dad even came out and met me at mile 10 on his bike and rode with me for a while.

I've been reading Ryan Hall's Running With Joy, and I finally got it this time.  This is my run, I am not running it in competition with anyone, this is my story and I'm running it at my own pace, my best pace I can.  I love that I have companions to pull me along and encourage me to do better, but ultimately, this race is my own and no one else's.

I have learned so much about life from running, and I have so much more to learn, in both areas.  But one thing is for sure: I am hooked.  And now, I am training for a full marathon in Long Beach this fall.  I can't wait.

Cold, White, Magic

When I was very young my family lived in South Florida.  I would watch Christmas movies and dream of places that had white winters, icicles, foggy windows, and just a few steps removed from the North Pole.

On my birthday, December 21, 1991 my family moved to Salt Lake City.  I longed so much to make my first snowball that as soon as a glistening embankment was spotted on the highway, we stopped just to touch.

I think that to celebrate my birthday next week I'll watch my favorite Christmas movie, Little Women, and imagine putting on my winter skin on a snowy hibernation day.

Merry Christmas.

Simple Thing

We've all heard it said that it's the simple things in life that really count. But only if we take the time so appreciate them.


Mom called this week while I was looking at recipes to make some freezer jam and she said, "No, don't do that! It's time you inherited my canner and made some real jam!"

That immediately reminded me of the narrow pantry of my childhood, filled with Ball jars that sparkled with shimmery peaches, homemade applesauce, and spicy grape jelly. Mom learned to can from her mom who had the very best pantry, which was perfect for one chair that held a little girl and all her imagination. I used to sit in there when I just wanted to smell the canned goodness, make up songs or plays, or listen to Bobby McFerrin on my walkman.


Grandpa had a cherry tree over his workshop out back, and us cousins would climb up and pick cherries all day while the adults would cheer us on, pointing out the biggest clumps. Mom and Grandma canned those too.


One summer, Mom and I picked peas from Grandma's garden. Now, I hated peas, I still do. I think it's because mom served them, from a frozen bag, almost every night. But there's something about sweet fresh peas from the garden, warm in the morning sun, like candy in your mouth, that can turn a girl to a pea-lover in no time.

I don't have a garden yet, nor a cherry tree (my lemon tree looks promising, though), but as far as appreciating the simple things, the sparkling golden sun from our sky light on my very own hardwood floors really just sent me over the edge today, so I thought I'd share.

That's my simple thing. What's yours?

Snow Some Love

I love the snow.


{I'm just sayin'.}

Images from my trip back to wintry SLC this Christmas.

Down The Rabbit Hole

Little brother and I are exited for it. We made our own Wonderland this winter.

Can't wait. March 5.

Life at the Farm, Take 2

Photographer, I am not.

Watercolorist, I am.Often I take photos to use as references later. I love to have a watercolor record of my visit to special places like Wheeler Farm in Murray, Utah.

My husband's favorite thing in my Esty shop are my little watercolor postcards...remembrances from days like these.Which would you like to see as a watercolor postcard in my shop on Etsy?

Life at the Farm, Take One

Wheeler Farm is a little bit of somethin' special. This corner of yesteryear on ye ole farm was right in our back yard growing up in Murray, UT, and it wasn't until I moved away that I realized just how wonderful it really was. I mean, I always loved it, but last month I revisited this page of nostalgia in my book of memories and fell in love all over again. Come see the Farm with me!Lucy goosey...the farm hosts quite the gaggle and I couldn't get enough.

That's the old farmhouse. How much would you love raising your kids there? We used to come to Easter Egg Hunts on the lawn.

I think I could use one of these planters. That would be so easy to make...all you need is an old ladder, which we have. Can someone say PROJECT?

This was the giantest pig we had ever seen! Oh, and check out the cute sister's cute headband from my shop.

Honestly, blue collar or white, nothin' gets done in Jon's world without a Coke.

I always have conflicting feelings about the zoo, but the farm is nothing like the zoo, although they boast a range of animals and the kiddies love the petting zoo. There's a dance hall, a museum, a real working smithery, and in the fall they give hay rides and have a corn maze.

Ah, be still my beating heart. Wheeler Farm, I love you.

Did you like the zoo as a kid? I could definitely live on a farm if I never had to deal with meat, animal first-aid, or feces; could you see yourself on a farm?