Love is in the Air

When I arrived home from school this evening, April and the kids were out in the backyard doing some gardening in the mud. Since it has been raining off and on for the past two days the conditions are almost swamp-like, attracting many amphibious life forms. As they meddled through the weeds and plants, they happened upon a most intimate find.


Unaware of what was taking place, Cayanna told Caleb to pick up the frogs. "No," he responded, adding "they are mating." Justifying his position even more, he argued, "I don't want to disturb their romance!" Cayanna quipped back, "Then where is the music?"

Adding to the love that was already in the air, she then began to hum a little tune: "O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! . . . "

Still Chasing Boston

The rain just could not make up its mind. Unlike the humidity, which was constant and relatively high throughout the race, the rain was quite fickle and sporadic. At the starting line it greeted me with a light drizzle, then turned into a cool, soft mist several miles into the race, and reverted back to a drizzle before meeting me at the finish line with a downpour! Conditions such as these definitely make for a memorable run - especially when the shower sends a stinging reminder from every nook, cranny, and crevice that chafing (I mean, running) builds . . . character. The chafed nipples, though, do not build character so much as stir within an appreciation for those mothers who breastfeed a teething child!

Yes, I love running! The feeling of crossing the finish line after a long, hard-fought race is exquisite! The pain, the cramping, the exhaustion is all eclipsed by a deep sense of achievement, having just overcome the odds and all of the negative self-talk that slowly seeped into my awareness with each passing mile! My counter and source of motivation -- in fact, the very thought that pulled me through to the end -- was the image of April giving her ALL in laboring to bring our last child, Elias, into the world almost three months ago! The effect it had on me was real: the more I saw myself cheering her on and rallying around her for another successful delivery at home, the faster my pace became! In fact, it was this very image of seeing her squatting, pushing, being propped up with arms wrapped under hers -- me on one side and a good friend, Linda Martin, on the other . . . it was this image that my mind grabbed hold of, keeping me tethered to and focused on the finish line when everything in me screamed "I can't". In short, it was the force that propelled me through the impermeable "wall" at mile 24 and across the finish line in a record 3:41:32.

Though my time set a PR, it did not qualify me for Boston. In fact, I need to shave off 26 min before making the trip to the oldest and most prestigious marathon in the world. (The qualifying time for men 35-39 y/o is 3:15:59.) What that translates into is this: I need to run faster -- 1 min per mile faster, to be exact. It is doable, I think. I am hopeful in the fact that I have already brought down my time considerably. Note the following:

7 May 2006, Potomac River Run Marathon - 4:24:27
29 Oct 2006, Marine Corps Marathon - 4:08:31
21 April 2007, Salt Lake City Marathon - 4:00:14
19 April 2009, Go! St Louis Marathon - 3:41:32

It has not even been ten days since the race and the feeling of euphoria has outlived the muscle soreness. The excitement and challenge of chasing Boston has been rekindled; and after taking several days off to recover, I have now resumed my training. Regardless of which marathon I run next, one thing that I look forward to as I run (and train for) another 26.2 miles is the rediscovery of the source of my motivation -- my wife!

Hot Girls; Cold Boy

The following conversation is one more reason why eating dinner together is time well spent. If nothing else, it makes for great entertainment. Enjoy!

Cayanna: "Mom, who is your favorite Pokemon character?"

April: "I don't know; I don't know them very well."

Cayanna: "You know, [forgot his name] likes hot girls!]

Me: "He does? Why do you say that?"

Cayanna: "Because he has heart eyes."

April: "What are heart eyes?"

Cayanna: "You know, when they look at someone and hearts go in their eyes."

Me: "So what is a hot girl?"

Cayanna: "I don't know."

Caleb: "It is a beautiful girl."

Me: "You know, Caleb, one day you are going to marry a hot girl!"

Caleb: "Oooh, no way! Babe is going to marry a hot boy."

Cayanna: "No, I won't; I will marry a cold one!"

Taking the Oath of Office

"Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, Give 'er the gun! (Give 'er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame. Hey!
Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!"

The childhood memories of dressing up in Grandpa Merl's Marine garb are vivid. In the basement of his house was a lone room; and in that lone room was a closet; and behind that closet door lay hours of dress-up fun. So many outfits to wear, and so many battles to win! Given my size, I was not going to beat the enemy (my brother and, often times, cousins) on sheer strength but on stratagem. Even back then, my romanticization of the heroics of war was not entirely found in the bloodbath that often occupies it, but mostly in the fight for the cause that is bigger than life itself, namely, that of freedom!

Now fast forward some 10 or so years to Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn, NY (1995): Just after moving to New York, I found myself walking in to the recruiting office on Amsterdam Avenue & 65th Street to complete what I had already started in Salt Lake. After a fine display of my acrobatic abilities (i.e., jumping through a mess load of red tape), I was finally given clearance to enlist in the active reserve Army. After a dreadfully long day at MEPS in Fort Hamilton, I clearly recall the awful feeling that came over me when reviewing my contract. It was palpable, unbearable, making my stomach twist and turn and cramp up inside. It was a feeling devoid of all excitement and adventure; yet, it was filled with a caveat and regret. When I asked the officer that sat across from me on the other side of the desk if I could have some time -- just a day or two -- to mull it over before signing, he assured me that if I did not sign now I would not sign at all. He was right . . . and yet he was wrong!


Fulfilling my latent and childhood desire to serve my country, yesterday I swore to "support and defend the constitution of the United States" as an officer in the United States Air Force. Yes, I have joined the military and it is official! There is no looking back now; no regrets, no caveats to negotiate and justify away, and no visceral knots to untie. Such a contrast from the experience I had previously! The starkness of the contrast serves as a reminder that making the right decision, especially in terms of one's own life-direction, is as much dependent upon timing as it is principle.