tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87091441248788133182024-02-21T08:52:37.237-06:00Leaving a PathMine the darkness and see by the path you leave behind. -Andy YoungCarrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.comBlogger331125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-26515734292948853682015-02-01T14:23:00.000-06:002015-02-01T20:49:26.255-06:00The Language of Tears<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last night we watched, "Land Before Time" with my sweet seven and a half year old, Cate. While at Target picking up a birthday gift, we saw the movie on sale for $5 and bought it immediately. It is a favorite childhood movie of mine that reminds me of collecting the hand puppets from Pizza Hut of the characters and quoted the lines of the adorable rag tag dinosaurs who ended up unlikely friends. "Yep, yep, yep!" I couldn't wait for Cate to see it.<br />
Normally, Cate spends part of her evening watching her iPad or playing games on my phone but tonight I convinced her to watch the movie with us, and as she snuggled in my lap I was excited to spend quality time with her. Like many movies of its kind, there is always an event that propels the protagonist to an early self-actualization, generally in the form of the mother being killed off in some horrible fashion. In my <span style="line-height: 19px;">excitement</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> to watch it, I nearly forgot that part of the story. So... as the</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> harrowing battle between sharp tooth and Little Foot's mother unfolded, Cate grabbed me tightly and her eyes were wide with fear. Then something incredible happened... </span>As the mother lay dying on the rocks sacrificing herself to save her young son saying her good-bye's and comforting him as she knew she was going to die, Cate began to openly weep. <br />
It got me thinking...<br />
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Tears are the language of the soul. The expression of something do deeply felt we can only weep at the thought. How often do we actually look at one another and feel something so completely soul crushingly strong that we are reminded of the fragility of humanity or see something so beautiful it renders us speechless? It seems so rare these days... especially for our children being raised in the information dynasty where communication is choreographed 160 characters at a time.<br />
As human beings, we are becoming conditioned to retract when things become unbearable and even just mildly uncomfortable these days. We don't want to face the things that are hard. But you can't have the good without the bad. The bad is what makes the good so good. You can't have one without the other. You can't have the love without the loss, or the light without the darkness that overtakes it each night - the burnt ends of a sunrise holding on as long as it can before relinquishing the color to the night... it is why we love to see the sunrise, when the light returns to our eyes. Things are only beautiful because they are not permanent. You can't appreciate your life without knowing that one day it will end. You can't love deeply without the knowledge that it won't always be there so it must be treasured. <br />
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In a scene that lasted less than two minutes, Cate experienced something deeply stirring that made her own life seem more precious. The lesson was a brutal one - administered with a sharp, sad, sting. That night, she clung more tightly to me her small hands holding my hands and her head nuzzled into my neck. She craved being close after being exposed to her own precious and fragile humanity... a humanity that can sometimes only be recognized through tears.</span><br />
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Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-4620742349189880992015-01-29T18:17:00.000-06:002015-01-29T18:17:00.536-06:00I'm Baaaaack!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a long hiatus I am back in the blogosphere and have been quite busy over the last several months. Since my exit from Spartan Race, I've been working with a company in my hometown that was formerly OFFWIRE which was acquired by a MNC Brightstar Corp and we've been Brightstars every since. While I still love my muddy roots with Spartan and maintain close relationships with many individuals with whom I worked, I've settled in quite nicely in this role and am enjoying the ride. <br />
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I did re-launch an online community <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ChickedNation" target="_blank">Chicked Nation</a>, a community formerly known as Spartan Chicked. And with the help and oversight of some good friends it is still a place where women can come and get healthy living advice, motivation, and support. There are even a few merchandise options courtesy of our friends at <a href="http://ocrgear.com/chicked-nation/" target="_blank">OCR Gear</a>. Huge congratulations to Adrian and his team as well for the launch of the wildly acclaimed <a href="http://ocrworldchampionships.com/" target="_blank">OCRWC </a>last year. I was so pleased to see that event soar and the direction of the sport move to a more unified front. When I think back to the origins of OCR it is thrilling to think that it is moving back to where it belongs, as a sport for the people it was built for!<br />
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Now what?<br />
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To recap some of the down time, I've maintained my teaching position at <a href="https://www.creighton.edu/" target="_blank">Creighton University </a>teaching Entrepreneurial Finance. I still spend a great deal of time explaining why a finance teacher is a Vice President of Marketing and Training, but when all the pieces are put together it makes a lot of sense. I suppose that's a pretty good analogy for my life in general. I love teaching and each semester I find out something new about myself and about how to improve my approach. I've also traveled pretty widely in 2014 across 16 states in the US and racked up quite a few frequent flyer as well as road miles in the process. I'm thrilled to be settling into 2015 and have some big plans ahead for what I'm thinking will be a big year for me. I plan on blogging about some of my favorite things - my family, my work, what motivates me, and maybe even a few things I've learned along the way that may be useful. We'll see. <br />
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It's wonderful to be back, I'm thrilled to be writing again, and I can't wait to share more of the coming chapters of what is yet to come.Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-66648864711683182162013-10-15T08:30:00.003-05:002015-01-29T16:22:00.983-06:00Love Letter to Sparta: You'll Know at the Finish Line<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On a cold, dark, wet morning in February of 2011, over a thousand miles from home, while horribly under-dressed and with a fractured foot in the mountain trails of Southern California, I raced my first Spartan Race.
It became part of an experience that would ultimately change the course of my life dramatically.<br />
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I didn’t know the significance of that when I boarded the plane in Nebraska the night before or even that morning when the gun went off. Eight miles in the mountains and I was a Spartan, it was even captured on film. I was the "Single mom from Omaha, Nebraska." When I finished, I was exhilarated with the course and I didn't know in that moment that I was also about to take on the role of a lifetime as a Spartan Race employee.
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<strong>Call me Crazy</strong><br />
When I took the job at Spartan, everyone said I was crazy. It was crazy to join a new company with this "obstacle racing" events that were still considered "mud runs" for "weekend warriors." There couldn't possibly be a future in that. Spartan HQ was so unlike anything I had known - we were, and still are, a small shop with limited resources. Most of us are athletes, all of us are hard workers that believed in this idea that Spartan could change lives. And it does. I've seen it. It's undeniable.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vermont Ultra Beast, 2013</td></tr>
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After accepting Joe D's offer of branding and content in early 2011, my life became about plane rides and finish lines. But in between the frequent flier miles I racked up and the medals I put around the necks of those who crossed a Spartan finish line, I've made a lifetime of memories I'll never forget.<br />
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I’ve done Bikram yoga in a California and almost missed a flight out of Vermont after getting into a fender bender blocks from the airport. I got stuck in a blizzard in Massachusetts, navigated <i>up</i> a double black diamond slope in Pennsylvania, crawled through culverts in Staten Island, and climbed trees in Texas. I took on a Beast in Killington. I spent six hours stranded at a Park and Ride in Red Hooks, NY with two of my best friends.<br />
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I've seen the sunrise in 17 states in the last two years.
From 2011 to now, I've also logged time in Vermont, Malibu, Temecula, Boston, New Hampshire, Chicago, Philadelphia, New York, Connecticut, Washington, D.C., New Jersey, Massachusetts, Missouri, Glen Rose, Dallas, and Colorado. I've been coast to coast and gotten excellent at packing and sleeping anywhere - including the floor of a barn and on a rock at the top of a mountain under the stars. And this week will mark my last days at Spartan Race. It's overwhelming to say that out loud. It almost sounds impossible, considering all I've done and seen in the time I've been here.<br />
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When I started we had less than 30,000 FB fans and now we are well over 3 million. In 2011, we had 26 events and in 2013 will have over 65 worldwide races and nearly 750,000 people will cross one of our finish lines before the New Year. I could tell you enough to fill books about this company, stories of how the Beast was born while Joe was hiking with a few staffers in Vermont and how it took us four hours to pick the right shade of green for the first Beast medals in 2011. Our leader, Joe De Sena is the kind of man you'd go to war for. His brilliance with a slight shade of crazy has made this company great, special, and always thinking of the people who come to our races first. Everything has always been so organic and always with our racers in mind. Don't ever doubt how much love goes into the details, even as we've grown to such a huge size. When I tune into the NBC Sports special that will cover our most recent World Championship event, its amazing to consider how far we've come. I'm proud to have contributed to that in my own way. So, if that is all crazy, go ahead and call me crazy.<br />
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<strong>Thank You, Spartans</strong>
This isn't about what I learned about me in the last two and a half years, its what I've learned from the Spartan community. It's about what I've been given in the process.
I've stood for hours at finish lines watching the faces of those who would finish - from the first place finishers to the last, all crossing the same line and the transformation is immediate. The relief in their bodies, a relaxing in the face - sometimes in tears, sometimes a smile, often both. There is the physical acknowledgement and realization that they are, in fact, DONE. The medal goes around their neck and they all take a moment and stare at it's sheen - some with shock and disbelief, but all with pride of what has been earned on the course. You have all shown me what the best and brightest exists in all of us, that there is so much good, that there is still much to have high hopes about in this life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cookie Cook, (partner in content marketing crime)</td></tr>
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There are too many stories I've told from this blog and other places to recount "favorites." You've all meant something to me. Something incredible and something that has left imprints on me that I will happily carry with me always. From the elite athletes that breathed a new and competitive life to this sport, to those who have overcome personal obstacles... those of you running for a reason bigger than yourself, and those who are running for the first time - you've all made me better. You've made Spartan better. So many of you have become more than subjects of a story line, you've thankfully become my friends. That keeps me in excellent company and always expecting more of myself.<br />
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My co-workers are the best in the world. I will miss you all deeply. I've benefited from the hard work of the Spartan staff, the commitment to excellence, and a work ethic that would shame most. I am not leaving your family, just the walls where we've shared sleepless nights and early mornings. I never had a cup of coffee in my life until I joined Spartan. How is that for proof? And as Joe told me last week, "You never really leave Spartan." <br />
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This is true.
Many people don't know where our tagline, "You'll Know at the Finish Line" came from. It was something I wrote on a piece of paper in our old office in Boston after accepting my Spartan role and after doing a race myself. It has been repeated back to me hundreds of time since we adopted it and its something that unites anyone who has done a race. You can't explain it, it's just something you know once you've had the experience.<br />
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It couldn't have come more full circle than when I saw my two daughters, Taylor and Cate, cross the finish line in the Nebraska Kid's race this past weekend. A race in my home state, a race I had asked for since I began so long ago was how my Spartan story ended. And welcoming my girls to the Spartan finisher family of finishers, was a privilege. It was a perfect send-off. They knew at their finish line, they'd been a part of the story too. They'd seen me travel to far off places and always return home with stories and muddy laundry. Now, they could feel it for themselves. It was one of the greatest gifts I could have given them. Their delighted faces were the greatest gifts they could have given back.<br />
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I look forward to the next chapter for me and my girls but am so, so, so very thankful to have such a prolific chapter of Spartan Race in my life story. I've loved every moment of the ride, I've grown personally and professionally, found love, friendships, and will always be grateful to be part of such a motivating and inspiring community. As a woman who regularly writes about 10,000 words a day, here are two that I can't say enough to everyone I've encountered along the way: <strong>THANK YOU</strong>.<br />
#spartanforever<br />
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[Originally posted on the Spartan blog. Find the original<a href="http://blog.spartanrace.com/love-letter-to-sparta-youll-know-at-the-finish-line/" target="_blank"> HERE</a>.]Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-35471839975293798232013-09-13T21:49:00.002-05:002015-01-29T16:53:41.946-06:00Squeeze TwiceWhen my girls were learning to walk they would hold my hand for support. Their tiny hands in mine, I would tell them that if they were unsure, scared, or if they needed me, they just needed to "squeeze twice" and I'd know to pay attention. When they started a new school, a new activity, a scary doctor's appointment, anything, I'd tell them the same, "squeeze twice," no matter how many people are around and what is going on... because I'd know what they were feeling. It was how they could tell me that they needed me without having to say a word.<br />
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Today, I picked Cate up from school and she took my hand as we started up the hill to where I was parked. We chatted about her day, she told me about her field trip, and then suddenly I felt the unmistakable two squeezes in our grip. We both smiled in the same moment as it happened. We stopped walking, I leaned over, got close to her face, and whispered, "Yes?" and she said, "I'm okay, mom. That was for you. Just in case you needed me this time."<br />
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Squeeze twice.<br />
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<br />Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-23264041625225363272013-08-25T14:50:00.002-05:002015-01-29T16:53:57.587-06:00This Time. Every Time. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My girls have been helping with chores around the house and have really taken to their "jobs." Taylor, 11, helps with the glass, vacuuming, and dusting while Cate, my six year old has been emptying the dishwasher, folding laundry, and putting it away. She stacks the spoons backwards, and can't reach all the cupboards, so often we work together - her handing me the cups and bowls and me letting her stack the Tupperware. With laundry, she very carefully tries to match up the edges of towels and fold the t-shirts just right, her eyes squinting and her tiny fingers taking their awkward time... though they are never quite folded properly. It's adorable.<br />
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While cleaning my kitchen this morning, I opened a drawer to get something and saw several towels all folded haphazardly and randomly stacked in the drawer. Nestled on top of one of the towels, totally out of place, was a mixing whisk. I can imagine my little Cate setting it there with great care and deliberation after putting the towels away Friday. I can see her smile as she does it. Normally, I would smirk, roll my eyes a little, and put it back where it belongs, where she <i>knows i</i>t belongs, but today it was different. This time, my heart caught in my throat... I really missed her. This weekend is a weekend my daughters are with their dad and so they've been gone for the last day and a half.<br />
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I'll never be fully used to weekends away from my daughters. I always miss them and despite trying to keep busy, the hours just feel a little emptier without them. This particular week and weekend have been rough, and their being gone stung even more. And now, in my kitchen looking at this silly whisk, my little girl seemed so far away.<br />
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So often I'm worrying about the next thing, what happens after this thing, after this moment and I realize how much I can be missing that's right in front of me. Worse than wanting something that has yet to happen is regretting something that has already passed. That's a pain that cannot ever be fully overcome. It lingers.<br />
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So, this time, I'm done waiting for what might be coming, what I want to happen, and I'll just be <i>here</i>. I'll be in the <i>now</i>. The lesson this time for me is about not withholding anymore... words, embraces, or opportunities. Don't leave the words unsaid. Don't let the memory of fear of what has happened or what could happen keep you from living your now. Don't let yourself stay in a dark place either, don't settle for something less than you deserve. Change things now. Right now. This time. There is no other.<br />
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When my girls come home I'll hug and kiss them, like I always do, but I may stay a little longer in the embrace, grateful for this moment with them. I will fully feel their arms around my neck, the smell of their shampoo, and the sound of their giggles in my ear. I'll close my eyes and let myself completely be<i> theirs</i>. I'll keep living for the "this times" that are given to me. Not because it might be the last time either, but because it's <i>this time</i> and <i>this time </i>is what we have and it will be over before we know it. We are all a long string of "this times" that form the timeline of our life, the memories of our storied past, and the foundation for what lies ahead. So don't let it slip by. <i>This</i> time is important <i>every</i> time.<br />
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[Writer's Note: This week a wonderful wife and mother from my community was taken far too soon from the people who love her. Her name was <a href="http://www.omaha.com/article/20130823/NEWS/130829474/1694" target="_blank">Andrea Kruger. </a> To donate to the Andrea Kruger Memorial fund drop a check made out to "Andrea Kruger Memorial Fund" at any Union Bank and Trust in Omaha/Lincoln, Nebraska. You may also transfer funds to the account by calling 800-297-2837.]
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/yqhRK_g7WJc" width="420"></iframe>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-61643092344944969402013-08-19T18:11:00.002-05:002013-08-19T18:23:58.981-05:00Music of the SoulMusic is a powerful force. A single note can take us back, instantly, to another place and time. Songs you'll never forget, no matter how much time passes, so connected to your history that they aren't just songs, they are tangible <i>memories, </i>part of your past, and the emotional reaction when you hear them is back to something that you don't just recall... you <i>relive</i>. <br />
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Sometimes these memories of song are happy ones, joyful irreplaceable firsts or milestones. They put an immediate smile to your lips, involuntary and unavoidable, spreading across your face as the chords fill your consciousness. You can taste the past, smell it, hear the sounds... A first love, a first kiss, a first dance... a first unforgettable moment forever tied to the lyrics. These songs immediately elevate and everything seems just a little brighter in their wake. </div>
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And then there are the songs that take your breath. Painfully. Immediately. Just a handful of notes and you're paralyzed. The sudden sound arising a terrible, searing ache well below the surface. Deep, complete, and consuming, it's like being haunted by your own past. But the stinging pain is anything but a phantom... those songs leave in their wake a melancholy, a longing that lingers even after the song has ended, long after we thought it shouldn't hurt as much as it does. As much as it always may.<br />
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Beautiful and tragic, music makes up the soundtrack to our lives. Adding to our life story... feeding and starving the soul one note at a time. <br />
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Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-68218144325621244832013-08-14T07:30:00.000-05:002013-08-14T15:40:17.084-05:00Exhale<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor and Cate, August 13, 2013</td></tr>
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My two girls returned to school yesterday. Taylor boarded the bus at 7:20AM. That was a first for us both and I know she was nervous, though she tried not to let on. She timidly smiled and gave me a small wave as she stepped up on the stairs and disappeared from my view. My heart caught in my throat.<br />
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I thought, "Don't lose it now."<br />
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Exhale.<br />
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Where did the time go? How did she get so tall, so capable, so independent and strong? My baby was heading for sixth grade, and inside her sister was casually eating cereal and watching Sponge Bob eagerly waiting for her first day of first grade. Whoa. How did this happen?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor, 2002</td></tr>
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Then it was Cate's turn. She chatted non-stop on the walk to the school about nothing in particular, clutching my hand - though not tightly, more out of habit; she wasn't nervous. When we found her teacher, she marched right up and gave her a high five. Turning to me as I crouched down, she wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezed tightly, and trapped me in her little grasp. She kissed my cheek. She didn't hold me tight because she was afraid of letting go, she was holding me tight because that's what she does when she's excited. She was ready. She let me go, her twinkling eyes meeting mine and then she turned. I watched her walk confidently to the end of the line with a big smile on her face. And in this noisy, crowded courtyard, I locked eyes with her one more time, my beautiful and courageous Cate, and fought the sting of tears with a smile.<br />
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Now I thought, "Don't lose it here."<br />
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Exhale.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cate, 2007</td></tr>
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When I got back to the safety of my car, I couldn't keep tears from flowing. And they weren't exactly sad tears... they were tears of a woman overwhelmed with awareness. Sometimes the "real-ness" of life, the beauty, the pain, the love, the gravity of what we have, what we lose, and what we face catches up and taps us on the shoulder. And there in front of us are all the things that we are left to carry. It's not one window, but all our windows blowing open. Each part of our lives, our memories, our experiences, and our future is completely present, woven throughout our parts and they can't be cut out or released. They can't be unknown... they are ours and they are staring us in the face. <br />
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In those moments... it just gets <i>heavy</i>.<br />
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It doesn't mean that we are broken, even when it feels like we are. It's actually realizing the sum of our parts, the realization that we are whole - more whole than we want to recognize in the day-to-day. It's finding out in these flashes that "whole" doesn't mean perfect or happy either. Whole carries pain, regret, and loss. Whole is not what we are seeking, it's what we already are.<br />
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We aren't categorically any one thing, or any list of things either. As a <i>whole</i> person we begin to realize that we generally exist on sliding scales of opposite realities. We're both the lover and the fighter, the brave and the terrified, the generous and the selfish, the quitter and the one that never gives up. It's a matter of where we exist on that scale at any given moment. Where we tend to stay. But we can be one loss away from being on our knees; or one joy, one smile, one touch away from near perfection. Here lies the delicate balance that we dance on every day of our lives; this line between the absolute <i>miracle </i>of our life, the incredulity of actually <i>being</i> <i>alive</i> and the finality and inevitability of our death. <br />
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It's that awe of a fully, whole human existence, when the scale is heavy on <i>both</i> sides that is overwhelming. It was <i>that </i>particular brand of<i> </i>overwhelming I was feeling now. I was both frantically resistant to the knowledge that my girls were growing so fast <i>and</i> immensely proud of their progress. I was both astonished by the passage of time <i>and</i> grateful for all that we've been able to share as a family. I was both debilitated by fear <i>and</i> filled with an all-consuming hope for what this day and the days ahead would hold. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was strongest... it was just <i>everything at once</i>.<br />
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I sat in my car and my heart pounded painfully but so fully in my chest, the tears ran freely, and my mind raced through everything... all the emotions coursed through me like lightning. It was only a minute or two and then, with that same deep sigh escaping my lips, I relaxed. <br />
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Exhale. <br />
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The frenzy was over. But for a few desperate moments I was feeling the heavy whole of both sides of my sliding scales... I was so unavoidably, completely, and inescapably aware of myself; my human existence - the gift and burden that represents. These moments are not constant, maybe not even that frequent for most of us, and it isn't a flaw in our design. It's a painful gift. A rare opportunity to feel <i>everything</i> that makes up the whole of <i>you</i>. It's not a feeling that washes over you because it doesn't come from the outside either, it exists on the inside, always has, and not all bubbling under the surface. Some of it lives deep, is rarely acknowledged, or is not even known to have been there at all. These moments are a much-needed reminder of all that we are and what we have... even when it is overwhelming. And it's worth it... even when it gets heavy. Especially when it gets heavy.<br />
<br />Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-33253643781769162522013-08-08T15:38:00.000-05:002013-08-08T15:52:47.168-05:00What's a Girl to Do? (When She Can't Lift Heavy Sh*t)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, so in all fairness, my "heavy" is relative. I'm not deadlifting 405lbs like <a href="http://games.crossfit.com/athlete/10220" target="_blank">Shelley</a>. I'm okay with that... but with two recent wrist injuries, broken thumb/tendonitis in the left wrist and then an untimely trip down my stairs for a nasty right wrist sprain days after my left one was cleared for training I'm missing throwing weights around. Like, a lot actually. <br />
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I've been doing <a href="http://carriea81.blogspot.com/2013/02/anniversary.html" target="_blank">CrossFit for well over a year </a>and a half now. And for a girl who couldn't do a pull-up when I started or add much weight to the bar for clean and jerks, overhead squats, or thrusters, mastering kipping pull-ups and watching the PR's stack up on my lifts (especially the Olympic ones) I've been thrilled with the progress and with my newly acquired strength and work capacity. <br />
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Training with one arm makes that more tricky, though modifications are abundant, I've had to go back to my endurance roots using single dumbbells, running, and body weight workouts in lieu of programming that involves barbells and low repetition maxes. <br />
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I'm finding that as much as I miss the weights, it's clear my long distance lungs have taken a hit and that's a tough pill to swallow. Recent sprints were telling. My splits were almost two seconds slower than they were a year ago on a 100m dash. And so I find myself saying things like, "Oh I used to be a runner..." and "I'm not a sprinter..." but those just an excuse. I'm still a runner and I used to be a really fast runner. I've just been a neglectful one. Earlier in the year when I ran a<a href="http://www.carriea81.blogspot.com/2013/04/262-for-martin.html" target="_blank"> marathon for charity</a> after the Boston Marathon bombing, it was rough back half. The inspiration of why I was running made it<br />
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bearable but even then it was clear I'd lost a few steps. So, now I'm gaining them back again. But I'm not going to lose the strength. The answer lies somewhere between the two.<br />
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And that's what is finding me lacing up my running shoes, yes <i>running</i> shoes, and logging the miles. And while the first few days were painful and awkward I am finding the rhythm again. There is no feeling like the feeling of the barbell, torn palms and all, throwing the iron around has an appeal that has become an unexpected pleasure... yet, the runner in me was there first and I'm getting the gentle reminder that it hasn't gone away. Time to find the balance. There's nothing wrong with being strong AND fast; going heavy AND going long.Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-36113247880529316922013-08-02T16:06:00.000-05:002013-08-02T16:08:35.628-05:00Paying it Forward Sometimes Burns and Smells a lot Like HazelnutAfter two days of sleeping like crap, I thought I would treat myself to a much needed Friday afternoon coffee from Starbucks. Sometimes it's the little things that get us through the day, and I was practically giddy when I got in my car for the short drive. When I pulled up to the window I was pleasantly surprised to be informed that the man in the car ahead of mine had paid for my Grande hazelnut roast. A warm feeling crept into my chest thinking of the small act of kindness, a rare sentimental moment for me. Inspired, I offered to pay for the woman's coffee who was waiting in her car behind me. This was turning out so much better than I thought!<br />
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As I fumbled to hand the barista my credit card and open my monk fruit sweetener I managed to spill the entire contents of the cup onto the floor, the coffee splashing hotly onto my right thigh just above the knee. I froze. The barista who was handing me back my receipt and card was stunned, his mouth hanging open. I think he was struggling to decide if this was an acceptable moment for him to laugh or if I was genuinely injured.<br />
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"Um, I'm going to need a few more napkins." I managed to say.<br />
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Wordlessly he handed me an enormous pile and leaned halfway out the window to watch me attempt to clean myself up. I politely requested a new coffee to replace the one on the floor. He just nodded and closed the window. Now the warm feeling I was getting was on my car seat and pooling at my feet. So, I handed the barista my credit card again and the gifted coffee from the pay it forward stranger would remain unconsumed at my feet. As I drove off with my <i>two</i> Starbucks receipts and slightly singed thighs the smell of hazelnut strong in my nostrils I could only think of the old saying, "It's the thought that counts."<br />
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Well-played universe. Well-played. Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-1226145167098799492013-07-24T14:27:00.000-05:002013-07-24T14:36:54.976-05:00Life Lesson #24: Take Care of Each Other<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have always felt that my role as a parent is to prepare my children for life without me - make them capable to take care of themselves, and each other, whether its for an hour while I'm at the store, on a night out when they can drive, when they are out of my house, or if I'm taken from them unexpectedly before they're grown. It's not an easy thing to teach, it can't be forced, it just has to evolve over time... lesson by lesson.<br />
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Last night, we hurried into CrossFit class at 6:30. I had just picked up Taylor from dance at 6 and the girls ate sandwiches in the car as we drove. In rushing out the door, Cate didn't grab her shoes and shortly after we arrived, Cate stubbed her toe, tearing a piece of her skin off, and bright, red blood rushed out and dripped onto the floor. As soon as she saw the blood, she panicked and began to cry. Before she could rush over to me, Taylor took her hand, picked her up, and sat down holding Cate securely in her lap. Taylor gently smoothed Cate's hair off her cheeks stained with tears and began to whisper into her ear. Cate relaxed slightly and leaned into Taylor's embrace, accepting the comfort, and reached her hands around her sister's neck. </div>
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Cate's little back heaved as she continued to cry into her sister's neck. Taylor settled her cheek on Cate's head and softly rubbed her back still talking quietly in her ear. Hand over my heart, I watched them silently connect. I saw big sister taking care of her sister in a moment when Cate needed comfort. Soon Cate sat back and the fresh tears were gone. She wiped her cheeks as Taylor took her hand again to come find me. Taylor walked her over to me still holding Cate's hand and said, "I think a Band-Aid would make Cate feel better, mom. Do you have one?" I said nothing but smiled and got her one and watched as Taylor set Cate up on the gym's office couch and gently put it around her toe that had stopped bleeding. </div>
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The peace between them didn't last all night. On the drive home, they got into an argument about who disliked bread crust more and whether we'd watch Sponge Bob or So You Think You Can Dance on the big TV downstairs... but when it mattered, their hearts were in the right place, with each other.<br />
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Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-43861251822190128002013-07-22T19:36:00.000-05:002013-07-22T20:34:17.165-05:00When it Rains, Sometimes the Falling Water is Sparkling<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2J-Kx4DSw36tsz8g2B1EoU8AlQI8GZSETtlXMrGBrdVq2Isxm1XXJ3FZOc85K38dt1xsC5LknD3slVwryhMNkHUClci1wyI-0Ywoh0QkKx2JXXr2MxA2u0UWCnt905zB0ny7T9JLJWEt/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2J-Kx4DSw36tsz8g2B1EoU8AlQI8GZSETtlXMrGBrdVq2Isxm1XXJ3FZOc85K38dt1xsC5LknD3slVwryhMNkHUClci1wyI-0Ywoh0QkKx2JXXr2MxA2u0UWCnt905zB0ny7T9JLJWEt/s320/beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Mac in Ogallala, NE</td></tr>
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I arrived home this afternoon from an much-needed camping trip with my girls and one of my best friends and her kids. It was an incredible few days and we celebrated Cate's birthday memorably with camping, swimming, sight-seeing, and nature walks. (A blog to come soon on that front.) I had a long to-do list after I put in a half day or work that involved laundry, getting a medical release notarized, dropping Taylor off at soccer, getting Cate ready for dance camp, and mowing the lawn. I also needed to go to the store when I realized I had NO sparkling water in the house. This is a problem.<br />
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I'm addicted to sparkling water. I drink it all day long. I had eight cans on our camping trip alone, and I love all the flavors. (Though the new <a href="http://www.lacroixwater.com/" target="_blank">La Croix</a> peach/pear is incredible.) While on my trip, my friend Libbie posted a picture of slim cans of <a href="http://www.perrier.com/en/index.html" target="_blank">Perrier lime</a> on Facebook and I wanted to try them! After dropping Taylor off at soccer and getting two loads of laundry done, I put Cate in the car and we headed to Target. <br />
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An ominous flash of lightning struck overhead as we walked through the doors, and almost immediately my phone rang. It was Taylor from soccer... they had called off practice and she was getting a ride home. She was a few miles west and the storm there was heading our way fast. I had to hurry and she didn't want to be home by herself. I debated leaving, but I knew I didn't need too much, mostly produce and the water, so I told Cate we'd have to hurry and rushed inside. <br />
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We got our groceries, paid quickly, and I pushed the cart to the doors and looked outside. <br />
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It was POURING. Not the kind of rain that falls gently, but the sideways rain with thick drops that were going to get us, and our groceries, pretty wet before we got to the lonely Ford Focus I could see sitting alone at the back of the lot.<br />
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I did an inventory of the cart. All told, I had four bags, two 8 packs of La Croix sparkling water, and one 12 pack of Perrier slim cans. I wriggled my wrist a bit. It's still sprained, in a splint, and sore after a lot of (probably ill-advised) use this weekend but the La Croix was light and Cate was with me so she could help. <br />
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What could possibly go wrong?<br />
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I grabbed the two LaCroix Water in my left side side, Cate grabbed three of the bags and my purse, and I grabbed the Perrier and final bag in my right hand. It was really coming down and with the lighting and flashes of thunder so close together, the storm was pretty close. We were going to have to move quickly. Luckily we were both wearing effective footwear... flip flops. Yes, this was going to be totally fine.<br />
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"Ready, Cate?" I asked. <br />
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"Mmmm hmmmm," she smiled up at me. <br />
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We took off running out the front door together and immediately felt the large drops splash on our clothes and faces. Cate began to giggle, "The rain is on my cheeks, mama!" she squealed. She stayed right beside me though, since I couldn't hold her hand and we slowed up to watch for cars, crossed the parking lot, and into the lane where we were parked. No more than ten feet down the aisle, the box of Perrier <i>completely</i> came apart (it wasn't even that wet) in my hand as we were running and all the cans spilled out and spread all over the lane as we stood in the pouring rain. <br />
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I stopped and watched them roll away, some quite far, feeling the back of my shirt completely drenched, and said a bad word. (Not the eff word, but a bad one none-the-less.) This had better be good Perrier.<br />
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Cate laughed. <br />
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"Let's catch them, mommy!"<br />
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Watching it all happen was a couple in a small SUV who were driving up and in one swift motion he moved his car to the middle of the aisle so no one could get by, he and his wife hopped out and she moved Cate to the side to keep her safe and her husband and I and began chasing the cans that were now spread halfway across the parking lot. We dropped them into the bags... one is still missing and one had a hole and had to be thrown away, but with their help within a few frantic minutes we were in the car, drenched to the core, down two cans of perrier, but on our way home. <br />
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Lessons:<br />
1. Really, really kind people still exist and show up just when you need them.<br />
2. Cate doesn't panic in a crisis, she laughs. <br />
3. Perrier needs to construct a better box... but their slim can lime water is fabulous.<br />
<br />Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-33450844854986689282013-07-18T17:10:00.003-05:002013-07-18T17:10:55.847-05:00Life Lesson #23: Find (and Lose) Yourself in Learning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5klkGf8OtT_Jz3_pOF7lm-PJWlQiUZwN15ksnLlEZKg8d957UH3rmCFFY2_Gnda1zqbAEyT-QDmtqnjL1RMwv2H7YrYNt6sCjCRWIs6lKvBcETcTDTHYz52jgd3GVs6EiPQzdO94ME7t6/s1600/391239_4273304118419_1152452871_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5klkGf8OtT_Jz3_pOF7lm-PJWlQiUZwN15ksnLlEZKg8d957UH3rmCFFY2_Gnda1zqbAEyT-QDmtqnjL1RMwv2H7YrYNt6sCjCRWIs6lKvBcETcTDTHYz52jgd3GVs6EiPQzdO94ME7t6/s320/391239_4273304118419_1152452871_n.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
“Whilst I viewed those mountains, I felt a secret pleasure in finding myself so near the head of the-heretofore conceived-boundless Missouri. But when I reflected on the difficulties which this snowy barrier would most probably throw in my way to the Pacific Ocean, and the sufferings and hardships of myself and the party in them, it in some measure counterbalanced the joy I had felt in the first moments in which I gazed on them. But, as I have always held it little short of criminality to anticipate evils, I will allow it to be a good, comfortable road until I am compelled to believe otherwise." - William Clark<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcV2qo42QM-Tjufjl4WU7AuYbO6WZ0-9C-K89PgfbybinAPWu6JThyphenhyphen6EYYFy6zBL5vOaLjGFy2NnD-r4E-beFpkS733kxxj2Ay2i5Qlbno3G-xuAednbUwR46HFlpC9hH-2h30gfPxO7Ld/s1600/businessplan.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcV2qo42QM-Tjufjl4WU7AuYbO6WZ0-9C-K89PgfbybinAPWu6JThyphenhyphen6EYYFy6zBL5vOaLjGFy2NnD-r4E-beFpkS733kxxj2Ay2i5Qlbno3G-xuAednbUwR46HFlpC9hH-2h30gfPxO7Ld/s200/businessplan.JPG" width="200" /></a>While the summer heat rages on and my children, who bore quite easily, crave the opportunity to be and stay busy, my goal is to make their activities meaningful and educational. I am no heathen, it's fun education, but I don't want a summer hangover of learning waiting for them on the first day of school. <br />
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Last week, they were tasked with building a business plan for selling bracelets. They had to come up with a logo, tagline, and marketing plan. They successfully determined their start-up and projected sales. That project kept them busy most of a day and they really had fun with the tasks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTU2n0s6PF7QOD5lLApsLhm_8Mjn5b-TYX9Ml8kWv51mb7AOxJwNnDQyAM6bmtra4yH6yTbJ2KZ6rBmjV5JP0jljpR83_3UpBik7_89ze9rWVgjWVow6tKc_gjMfi87ELYyYe-bwjIUc0/s1600/lemonade1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTU2n0s6PF7QOD5lLApsLhm_8Mjn5b-TYX9Ml8kWv51mb7AOxJwNnDQyAM6bmtra4yH6yTbJ2KZ6rBmjV5JP0jljpR83_3UpBik7_89ze9rWVgjWVow6tKc_gjMfi87ELYyYe-bwjIUc0/s200/lemonade1.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
Another day, we did a lemonade stand for charity, the Ronald McDonald House. We set up a CrowdRise page click <a href="http://www.crowdrise.com/taykennycate" target="_blank">HERE</a>, and raised well over $100. We're taking the check to the local chapter next week after one more round of sales. <br />
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Taylor is taking a healthy cooking class at the local grocery store and Cate is going to a princess dance camp and they've had many a pool day with grandma and grandpa, but I have a big project up next for us. <br />
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This Friday, we're learning about Lewis and Clark! Taylor loves history and Cate loves television, drawing, and field trips so it will be right up their alley! <br />
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Lewis and Clark are arguably two of my favorite writers, yes writers. Adventurers and discoverers, they were both incredibly descriptive in their journals as they described and documented their epic journey across the United States. Part of that journey was <a href="http://www.nps.gov/lecl/planyourvisit/leclvcnebraska.htm" target="_blank">through our home state</a> and so next weekend we'll be going to Lewis and Clark landing in downtown Omaha to see the Missouri River and walk across the pedestrian bridge.<br />
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To prepare for our homegrown field trip, the girls are going to watch two videos made by PBS about Lewis and Clark that I have watched. (Yes, while most people are watching reality television at night, I'm watching historical nonfiction and science shows on PBS.) So, they will watch <a href="http://video.pbs.org/video/2365047100" target="_blank">Part One</a> and <a href="http://video.pbs.org/video/2365047100" target="_blank">Part Two</a> on Friday and Taylor will write up a paper on what she learned and Cate will be tasked with drawing pictures of what she watched. We talked today about how they crossed the Rocky Mountains we had recently seen and Taylor is already getting her notebook ready to take notes. Cate is excited that there will be bears in the video. <br />
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Lewis and Clark were the original gateway into the Western United States. On February 28, 1803, President Thomas Jefferson won approval from Congress for a visionary project, an endeavor that would become one of America’s greatest stories of adventure that involved the two explorers. Twenty-five hundred dollars were appropriated to fund a small expeditionary group, whose mission was to explore the uncharted West. Jefferson called the group the Corps of Discovery. It would be led by Jefferson’s secretary, Meriwether Lewis, and Lewis’ friend,William Clark.
Over the next four years, the Corps of Discovery would travel thousands of miles, experiencing lands, rivers and peoples that no Americans ever had before. <br />
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It's a complex, not entirely uplifting story that PBS covers with a vast array of experts and descendants of <br />
those involved in the expedition wonderfully.
Lewis, a tragic hero in this story was a tortured introspective man who may have only been capable happiness on the trails and in the wilderness. Their journey changed all of them, it changed our country... but it began with their willingness to go in the first place. <br />
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One of my favorite quotes Lewis offered on his 31st birthday, sitting alone at the headwaters of the Columbia River. Haunting and sad, he reflected on his life thus far and the life he longed for. Lewis never did find peace, but for a time, he had something that we all have to cling to... hope. <br />
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"This day I completed my thirty first year, and conceived that I had in all human probability now existed about half the period which I am to remain in this world. I reflected that I had as yet done but little, very little indeed, to further the happiness of the human race, or to advance the information of the succeeding generation. I viewed with regret the many hours I have spent in indolence, and now sorely feel the want of that information which those hours would have given me had they been judiciously expended. But since they are past and cannot be recalled, I dash from me the gloomy thought and resolve in future, to redouble my exertions and at least endeavor to promote those two primary objects of human existence, by giving them the aid of that portion of talents which nature and fortune have bestowed on me; or in future, to live for mankind, as I have heretofore lived for myself." - Meriwether LewisCarrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-5173862611171862112013-07-12T10:34:00.000-05:002013-07-12T10:51:03.277-05:00Open Your Own DoorsSometimes in between those big life altering moments, you have small ones, just as significant, that you recognize will completely change everything. And when you recognize the significance, it's not scary or overwhelming, it's the opposite. It's like coming home, maybe the home where you should have always been you were just too scared to live it - to live the truth of it. To live the truth of YOU.<br />
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Those little moments aren't so much something <i>happening</i> as you finally <i>acknowledging</i> what you've probably always known to be true, what you may have even been moving towards, you just didn't know what to do with it. It's not movement outward. It's a gentle but complete inward progression. And all that is left (besides the details) is the contentment with opening your own doors and making your own future without all the noise, fear, and excuses that far too often keep us from being really happy. It's the difference between accepting what you've been given and finding something else - something of your own making.</div>
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So, today, I'm celebrating my little moments. The realization that it's not always about growing up as much as it is growing in. Celebrating that you don't have to be changed by something significant, you didn't need to change in the first place, you just needed to embrace what has been there all along...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/vyfPz9HqaIY" width="420"></iframe>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-10880331711816125602013-07-03T12:17:00.000-05:002013-07-03T14:57:29.667-05:00Glimpses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"You're everything I never knew I always wanted."<br />
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My favorite cheesy chick flick movie line of all time. And it is soooo very cheesy. It's from the movie "Fools Rush In" with Selma Hayak and Matthew Perry. Dumb movie overall - completely predictable and unoriginal. Your typical overworked man meets interesting woman from a different culture and yet, somehow, it all makes sense and despite all the drama in the middle... they end up together, blissfully happy.<br />
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Blah.<br />
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I'm not one that gets too excited about chick flick movies either. I'm more of a documentary style girl, though a good summer blockbuster with lots of explosions is pretty fantastic too. However, while watching that movie in college when he delivered that line standing on top of the Hoover dam (in this really sort of awkward "Chandler Bing" way) it still somehow stuck with me.<br />
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Since then, I feel like I've had these extraordinary <i>glimpses</i> at love. Flashes of its brilliance, purpose, and perfection. I'm talking about the big love stuff. The real, honest, pure, and unselfish kind; undeniable and overwhelming. There is a precious ache that comes with finding those glimpses... An inescapable sting that reminds even the deepest parts of your soul that your whole life you have been missing something huge... something that is as necessary as the air we breathe. The ache is bittersweet and familiar, almost like an echo of something we can almost recall, something just beyond our memory's reach.<br />
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Everything we never knew we always wanted.<br />
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[Author's Note: I'm a huge Elvis fan. Huge. Truth be told, that's why I rented the movie <b>Fools Rush In</b> in the first place, he was all over the soundtrack. I have always loved his music, and this song (though Always on My Mind is my all-time favorite). However, I heard this version and Inrid Michaelson breathed new life and a painful depth to the lyrics. She perfectly finds that balance between the sweetness and the pain. 2:10 lands just perfectly...]Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-32467268357784846882013-07-02T16:46:00.000-05:002013-07-02T16:46:27.556-05:00Seek Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.” ― John Muir<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk-WCxe98so_pMIqfz-Sq9KQnbNqc7NGaTSjFaS2i7kSnrG89qieazWFrWzfellLsUDG5LmGaPmpkDWX_gB2tPcQD-893cJfQuD4A4YG6tiqMIqYasw7plh5cpZscW-6R2ch0Ka7s8cjZ/s960/bigfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfk-WCxe98so_pMIqfz-Sq9KQnbNqc7NGaTSjFaS2i7kSnrG89qieazWFrWzfellLsUDG5LmGaPmpkDWX_gB2tPcQD-893cJfQuD4A4YG6tiqMIqYasw7plh5cpZscW-6R2ch0Ka7s8cjZ/s200/bigfish.jpg" width="200" /></a>This spring my girls got to experience the mountains of Colorado and the forests of Minnesota. I try to expose them to the outdoors, give them experiences where they can touch nature and see how beautiful it is when you step outside and experience the world and everything in it.<br />
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Here's to the adventures lying ahead...
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Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-27125804414926200522013-07-01T13:56:00.000-05:002013-07-01T14:53:46.137-05:00Allllmost 32 (Not Quite) - Words of "Wisdom"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S8CzCPa-bEm382e1wc9LUE0m2kskFygmDSWFDmhgk9rO1XQDJCWqVGw3ScnxH3QqeuwqEqBGbCcf6xRDy007g1LVCqNMpazeN_k0O_dXzWAlUzzDUi7fFzmvo2iKBfqNgXvnJVGY_Q7P/s500/alicekiss.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S8CzCPa-bEm382e1wc9LUE0m2kskFygmDSWFDmhgk9rO1XQDJCWqVGw3ScnxH3QqeuwqEqBGbCcf6xRDy007g1LVCqNMpazeN_k0O_dXzWAlUzzDUi7fFzmvo2iKBfqNgXvnJVGY_Q7P/s200/alicekiss.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puppy love</td></tr>
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Heads up, I swear in this one - the eff word most notably. <br />
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I'm turning 32 in eight days. I suppose it's a reflective time on the past 32 years of my life that has taken me down more paths than I can recount. Some were realllllly not cool and others were more than I could have imagined for myself. I'll take that balance. And I've learned things, often the hard way... that's sort of my process. I am, in all ways, a "work in progress", but one that I've come to own and appreciate despite all my mistakes, short-comings, and flaws. <br />
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And... if I'm honest, I'm pretty fucking happy - that in and of itself is a victory. <br />
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So, to celebrate my #prettyfuckinghappy state of being... here are 13 things, yes, 13 (because of absolutely no good reason) that I've learned along the way... I would say I'm telling you so that you can learn from my mistakes, but you have your own mistakes to make, I'd hate to take that opportunity from you. Consider these musings from an aging woman who has absolutely no authority to be giving anyone advice about anything that goes ahead and does anyway.<br />
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1. Emulate children and animals. There is nothing like the love and light of their innocence and joy. Don't abuse the trusting place where that love is given to you, it's the most genuine on earth. Be worthy of it's giving, strive to love others in its likeness, and celebrate it at every opportunity.<br />
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2. "To find yourself, think for yourself." — Socrates<br />
Cultivate and celebrate self-reliance. Be YOU. Do not worry about what other people believe you should be doing or what they think is best. At times you'll be told you're foolish, irresponsible, or even wrong... but only you know your own truth, so live it. Be proud of your life in its entirety. As my friend Casey says, "Jam out with your clam out." <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwH_-e5fjjkvX1fU1Ulr0I4z3Z7aJ-HfKx9wZGWTLk7sIdQ4gjwEHXaYCbPcOQDDFWX1lQCmXvhQoKscUcuO0mjW3j3OXXxEgKytIfK_gGFP4hr7axv6CAhZ99hWW3lolcliC9fMDpwp02/s960/401833_10200872053031195_1888090267_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwH_-e5fjjkvX1fU1Ulr0I4z3Z7aJ-HfKx9wZGWTLk7sIdQ4gjwEHXaYCbPcOQDDFWX1lQCmXvhQoKscUcuO0mjW3j3OXXxEgKytIfK_gGFP4hr7axv6CAhZ99hWW3lolcliC9fMDpwp02/s320/401833_10200872053031195_1888090267_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>3. Accept responsibility for your life. If you want to enjoy the benefits of #2 then you better be willing to accept responsibility when it all goes to shit sometimes. And ohhhhhh yes, it will go to shit sometimes. Don't make excuses. Whether you did something wrong or something "happened" to you because of the way of the world, it doesn't matter. Own it. It doesn't have to remain, either. Make it better, make it different, make it no longer relevant, make it meaningful... make it something. Your past and your experiences help determine who you are, often those things are out of your control... but you get to decide what to do with it all at the end of the day. Do better and expect better of yourself than what you've been given. <br />
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4. Say "I'm sorry" and "thank you." When you screw up, say "I'm sorry" <i>first</i>. You're going to hurt people. Tell them you recognize that fact immediately and don't tell them the 100 reasons why you did it, or why it was "okay." It wasn't. Don't pretend it was. Then, live in a way that shows that you won't do it again. And more importantly - DON'T DO IT AGAIN. When shown kindness, however small, be thankful and express that thanks. It's amazing how that can be contagious.<br />
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5. “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”
― John Muir<br />
Explore the world often and all of it's beauty, but take care of it <i>every day </i>to keep it that way. We get one planet, treat it in kind. Start with your house and your neighborhood, recognize that we're all connected and we are all responsible. See what you're protecting! Visit the mountains, lakes, rivers, oceans... spend time in nature and appreciate the gifts we are spoiling daily with bad behavior. Global warming is real... And you can't revel very long in the beauty of a trashed planet. (Here is a start, watch this PBS John Muir documentary. <a href="http://video.pbs.org/video/1883108297/">http://video.pbs.org/video/1883108297/</a>)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJv5UwBjVQNs5bMW7nMFvOcjT0SgBnoUAmQ9SZcv79Kz-LY99wZ42qYOZKY3alqTS2_U_38-penbcKTH3NAyY4PYYxfmRkrEd3wH-zqUgEKBXjTScu00WZuSk0Cfs3Yow7I56lzLuRu5lN/s640/shoreline.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJv5UwBjVQNs5bMW7nMFvOcjT0SgBnoUAmQ9SZcv79Kz-LY99wZ42qYOZKY3alqTS2_U_38-penbcKTH3NAyY4PYYxfmRkrEd3wH-zqUgEKBXjTScu00WZuSk0Cfs3Yow7I56lzLuRu5lN/s320/shoreline.JPG" width="320" /></a>6. While you're taking care of the Earth, take care of yourself too. Get active, eat healthy, and take pride in the INSIDE health you're cultivating as much as the outside. It's easier (and cheaper) to take preventative measures to prevent disease than to treat them. <br />
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7. "Not all who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien<br />
Take risks. You get one shot at this life, make it a good one. Jump out of planes, fall in love, take trips to faraway places, pursue the job of your dreams, however impractical it seems to the onlooker. This is where the best stories begin. "I remember this one time that we got lost in the snow at 2 AM in the Green Mountains of Vermont in a blizzard..." kind of stuff. <br />
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8.Be pretty fucking happy. Yes, BE. And add the expletive to the sentence. And I don't mean, "try to laugh every day" or "pursue happiness" in a passive sense. I mean LAUGH and BE FUCKING HAPPY. It's okay to be sad sometimes too, but it's not okay to stay that way. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgUUaB4gXt8PfG2dKcS1b_CpAQumHRROETE2BqSFnlO_6RlQRVYXQDBDhYtLubNBJAoCuzZKop2dTM5r9mTtiP_r1KPyenjNh1a6NItZQhjOoqnNH1ZN1x3dYG3Md9aa7I34virtstnMF/s640/papa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgUUaB4gXt8PfG2dKcS1b_CpAQumHRROETE2BqSFnlO_6RlQRVYXQDBDhYtLubNBJAoCuzZKop2dTM5r9mTtiP_r1KPyenjNh1a6NItZQhjOoqnNH1ZN1x3dYG3Md9aa7I34virtstnMF/s320/papa.jpg" width="320" /></a>9. “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant?” ― Henry David Thoreau<br />
Listen completely. Invest your time and energy in the lives of others sometimes - especially to your elders and those in need. If it's not something that comes naturally, cultivate this practice. Time is precious and limited, but the stories and the perspective are priceless. Be present in something other than your life and your drama sometimes.<br />
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10. Geek out. Never stop learning. Have interests, hobbies, and past times... READ books. Read about sea shell classifications, articles about Russian scientists who swim naked with Beluga whales, and how to grow a hanging garden in your backyard. Watch documentaries about ancient mummification practices, modern art, and Neanderthal DNA ... start random conversations on message boards online with people who share your interests. Sign up for a class on how to throw pots, get Scuba Diving certified or learn sign language, train for a race, volunteer at a hospital. There is a lot of cool stuff out there. Find it your own brand of cool stuff. I revel in my inner nerd. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvSfBFCq4nR6rL4fHINqde4CLDpEG67bLTZ3YpGmN7ZXu9lpy9wk7FTKgS4jJhoRgwYmKqtFwErBj-iCAjEpPcMX9e1YtD7iYZItbpuDUwL6Ut_Je3B9ql_7Jph22HGx9RaTNFSdxSqdC/s960/photo+(7).PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvSfBFCq4nR6rL4fHINqde4CLDpEG67bLTZ3YpGmN7ZXu9lpy9wk7FTKgS4jJhoRgwYmKqtFwErBj-iCAjEpPcMX9e1YtD7iYZItbpuDUwL6Ut_Je3B9ql_7Jph22HGx9RaTNFSdxSqdC/s320/photo+(7).PNG" width="213" /></a>11. Patience grows with having children and traveling often. It's a trait I never thought I'd possess in the quantities I do today and I'm oddly grateful and astounded.<br />
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12. Change stuff that isn't working. You can't fix everything but you're never without options. Being powerless is an illusion. Decide you want something else and do what it takes to make it happen. It doesn't happen just because you say so, you have to actually work for change, but it's worth the effort. <br />
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13. Love. *sigh* I'm no expert, in fact, my track record would tell you I'm a failure in this department many times over. But I come to accept love is a rare and precious, but often tricky concept... it's not usually a lack of love that breaks people apart or even a lack of wanting to love.<br />
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There is a very subtle but very powerful difference between someone who loves a person in spite of who and what they really are and someone who knows a person, really knows them... and in that knowing, loves what is there.
It's the difference between being tolerated and being celebrated. It's the difference between a passive acceptance of a person and the undeniable recognition of a soul. The first kind of love can last and even endure... the second kind of love won't die. <br />
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Hold out for the second kind...<br />
<br />Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-27615334004137470622013-06-06T16:32:00.000-05:002013-06-06T16:32:08.488-05:00Cracks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8uWY_CSpQP_XImjMvU3DUwkVfFsZJOJRRn1opBBa_bEOmmbNR1BLImqUo8AcGCtpab6Kb1t2OSJcqWMNrDkz5qpFZ2G7_wqQ3XEpmtF7oGKtl08cN0JSfrT4zf9T8NOgJsHNIyRAe1YR/s1600/statue.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8uWY_CSpQP_XImjMvU3DUwkVfFsZJOJRRn1opBBa_bEOmmbNR1BLImqUo8AcGCtpab6Kb1t2OSJcqWMNrDkz5qpFZ2G7_wqQ3XEpmtF7oGKtl08cN0JSfrT4zf9T8NOgJsHNIyRAe1YR/s320/statue.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Cate plays this game when we're walking on the sidewalk. She extends her arms out like wings and skips, avoiding the cracks hopping from one foot to the other. She's careful to never let her foot hit a fissure on the ground at her feet. She laughs, sometimes holding the hair off her face, never losing focus on the ground. So, as we set off for a walk together yesterday, she took to her regular skipping, eyes cast down for several blocks as we headed for the park. <br />
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When we arrived I had to tap her on the shoulder. "Cate, we're at the park," I said. <br />
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"What?!" she squealed with confused delight. "How the heck did we get here?"<br />
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We both laughed.<br />
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"Well, while you were spending all your time avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk, we made it all the way to the park!" <br />
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She tore off across the grass and jumped on a swing, going higher and higher pumping her legs and leaning forward and back a reckless smile stretched across her face. And she played for almost an hour before we turned back for home. As soon as she stepped from the grass to the concrete she cast her eyes down towards the ground ready for her routine for the walk home. I knelt in front of her and tilted her chin up so that her eyes met mine. <br />
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"Why don't you stop worrying about the cracks this time. Just walk with me. I promise nothing bad will happen." <br />
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She eyed me suspiciously but grabbed my hand eagerly and we walked back together, taking our time and just enjoying the view - butterflies fluttering in the trees by her school, birds circling above our heads, and the wind ruffling her hair. It took us twice as long to get home, we kept stopping and slowing our steps when something would catch our eye. <br />
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When we got back to the driveway she said, "That was fun, mom... I didn't even SEE the cracks on the way home." <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fk1Q9y6VVy0" width="560"></iframe>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-41123141260857226572013-05-15T14:13:00.003-05:002013-06-20T09:23:10.097-05:00Filling the Void with Awe“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.”
― John Muir<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmzMYwav_AKaHdDqH_8f-T5tvjTbm4wTYFmgENeDLtdRcNGxaEm4drNlH12FOg1l1NTiAl-Oa5dcvIHLvqUNIlQCaleRI0B559IcJA1vP574Kh2IbA6qalHAG95sqSVXSEOR8D5qV638e/s1600/59227_10200751407855141_872643047_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmzMYwav_AKaHdDqH_8f-T5tvjTbm4wTYFmgENeDLtdRcNGxaEm4drNlH12FOg1l1NTiAl-Oa5dcvIHLvqUNIlQCaleRI0B559IcJA1vP574Kh2IbA6qalHAG95sqSVXSEOR8D5qV638e/s200/59227_10200751407855141_872643047_n.jpg" width="182" /></a></div>
I haven't blogged in nearly a month. And there was not a void in content, rather in finding time that took a few mountains to remedy. <br />
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As far as parenting goes, I know the ropes pretty well. And while I provide for my daughters aptly with the basics: food, water, shelter, etc. I feel obligated and honored to show them new things, beautiful things, and give them a deeper appreciation for the world. I want to expose them to things that will help them find themselves inwardly by what they experience outside in nature.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaX-_VmxsSE_O5OlQebMNhbDpv3HTVlX2MmzgPAl4rn8Z9Vcd223dbMyv7IIvLsGuuNlzj-NkRMqsXT84SB_14WNoiX8L5kzQ5mkhpaSOHNNwt06c7gvFyyEN7ET4HxBlBdEOoxaaqjaK/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaX-_VmxsSE_O5OlQebMNhbDpv3HTVlX2MmzgPAl4rn8Z9Vcd223dbMyv7IIvLsGuuNlzj-NkRMqsXT84SB_14WNoiX8L5kzQ5mkhpaSOHNNwt06c7gvFyyEN7ET4HxBlBdEOoxaaqjaK/s320/photo+(2).JPG" width="212" /></a>I've taken my daughters to the ocean several times and the forests and lakes of Minnesota at a family cabin. I've seen their eyes marvel at the orange and pink sunsets that trace sparkles dancing across the surface. I've heard them giggle and splash in the green foamy waves that crash up the shoreline their faces sprinkled with white sand from building castles and digging holes, their cheeks and noses kissed a rosy red by the sun. <br />
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I've watched them catch wriggling fish in the center of a pristine lake and watch bald eagles leave their nests, returning with prey for their newborn babies. I've picked berries in the forest with them, shoving handfuls in our mouths, the juices running down our chins. We've sat under the stars, fireside and cuddling - pointing to the only show we cared to watch - the one that nature was giving us over our heads. <br />
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Giving the gift of new experiences in new places to two girls who live in the land locked Midwest has been one of the greatest opportunities of my life as their mother. And the ocean, the water, the outdoors is a place of peace for me. A place where I feel small and insignificant, a place where I can be overwhelmed. A place where I can marvel at how the world can be something so completely perfectly beautiful...and knowing I am a part of that. <br />
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But it was time for a new adventure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhI3qZHX5RKTbDZLARNmrueEyVpBmCV-o4OCTQASXKYK6mua4iBAKNHS9RsZNS5B_8m-L1DkDW3WnlB6Uqbhg6SNx6SQGcr9SZGU4Sye29aj-OZ4u9eQM43-mqnatFlwBOmL7krmDmo_N/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhI3qZHX5RKTbDZLARNmrueEyVpBmCV-o4OCTQASXKYK6mua4iBAKNHS9RsZNS5B_8m-L1DkDW3WnlB6Uqbhg6SNx6SQGcr9SZGU4Sye29aj-OZ4u9eQM43-mqnatFlwBOmL7krmDmo_N/s200/photo+(1).JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
This last weekend Taylor and Cate were introduced to the mountains for the first time. And as we drove from the airport seeing peaks seemingly small in the distance abruptly rising up all around us, they were in awe. A <i>new</i> awe, one that marveled the carvings of the rocks, their complete and stark eruption from the ground, and the sweet smelling pines of Evergreen. As we stood on a bridge at Evergreen Lake, all that rose around us was the magnificent mountains, large and looming, and full of green. The awe from all the sounds of the animals who called this place home, and the bubbling creek that wove in and out of the park. Their eyes were glued to the windows as we drove back down from Evergreen, winding through the streets, finally stopping for ice cream settling on a park bench beside a river. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dxAqzESHGIyZ7Zjkt4qQpqc8FB0iHllljTSS0ac_WbHvYz4DT8xdSqCPFJHINIVZHkR1QljV9bgfztnRS_-p0cxBnNzVL4t0E2CNPHvwcUz0KBfKJkhFgxL-nsTVbpPKuEnJgF8siBt4/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dxAqzESHGIyZ7Zjkt4qQpqc8FB0iHllljTSS0ac_WbHvYz4DT8xdSqCPFJHINIVZHkR1QljV9bgfztnRS_-p0cxBnNzVL4t0E2CNPHvwcUz0KBfKJkhFgxL-nsTVbpPKuEnJgF8siBt4/s200/photo+(3).JPG" width="200" /></a>The new awe that came with the bluest of skies and the ruddy majesty of the looming rock faces at Red Rocks rising around them. How every view was better than the last and they felt like they were higher than they'd ever been but still not high at all. It was an awe of perspective; a new one they've never had that can't be explained, it just has to be seen with the eyes that evokes a quiet realization that has no need for words. An awe beyond expression but completely understood somehow, even in the consciousness of a six and an eleven year old. It something they'll feel again in their lifetimes, often I hope, that gives a sudden and overwhelming feeling of peace and of being connected to something. Its in our DNA as humans.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHp9iRIjwhBX2qyXuZQzJRttMwM02yu6k22JUtvQuFPavrIrnzXNPXYQXssMj_GbPK1h83wnYXx5tuFtRQHLRlVQIsDU_ehb-_NhGF9ymR4WQURsmBrRU4jfozxIYysou-eA3wNej-Rvzm/s1600/401833_10200872053031195_1888090267_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHp9iRIjwhBX2qyXuZQzJRttMwM02yu6k22JUtvQuFPavrIrnzXNPXYQXssMj_GbPK1h83wnYXx5tuFtRQHLRlVQIsDU_ehb-_NhGF9ymR4WQURsmBrRU4jfozxIYysou-eA3wNej-Rvzm/s320/401833_10200872053031195_1888090267_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And it was such a short visit, more like a quiet introduction. The trip was barely two days, not nearly enough time for them to discover more of the outdoors, to get their hands on the rock faces and explore this world that they never knew existed - a place they can <i>miss</i> and long to return to soon. Because missing something is a privilege. It means that it matters and it might have even change us for the better. And so the adventures for awe with my girls will continue... the search for someplace "new" that somehow feels like we've been waiting to find all along. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/sV9CixK_eDc" width="560"></iframe>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-53872957862584510212013-04-22T10:47:00.001-05:002013-06-20T09:23:56.176-05:0026.2 for Martin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHl8mNC0AYvA-K1XjHKi8xqkBQ2i2TOq2MJUzVJ1uRHFBFOPHu13NN6P1Uk3jUoNBJS-w-7cqvm-Tn_pcGBzTGzTsa8WfumdWNN9N5GLDQsliVlBeKyIXZQ_hdmKL1ihLSKmNlBUnlwIv/s1600/martin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHl8mNC0AYvA-K1XjHKi8xqkBQ2i2TOq2MJUzVJ1uRHFBFOPHu13NN6P1Uk3jUoNBJS-w-7cqvm-Tn_pcGBzTGzTsa8WfumdWNN9N5GLDQsliVlBeKyIXZQ_hdmKL1ihLSKmNlBUnlwIv/s200/martin.jpg" width="148" /></a></div>
<i>"I always loved running – it was something you could do by yourself and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs." -Jesse Owens
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On April 21, 2013 I ran 26.2 miles for Martin Richard and his family. Admittedly, I had not been spending much time logging mileage, deferring more often to my CrossFit gym. I had logged a grand total of 24 road miles in the whole of 2013 up to this point - 13 of them coming from a half marathon in March. But when I heard my friend Frank Fumich was organizing a series of runs around the world to help raise money for this deserving family, he himself running three marathons back to back, something in me knew I had to help. I decided after donating $26.20 to the cause, I would run in Nebraska and join more than 25 other locations worldwide in the effort. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaihhRNNJmghDL-nAdQYwUSbHG6_KrKiEkLk9XSV2gBJd6w8e2sh6sSLANeR0YgeQO6YzKSF8_wtpMAzuNE7PyVTUbqvwfT1pXHC_7VS-v4DtUhBJx8iKhMkQoK6JBeyPMAk7886rlA0hl/s1600/262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaihhRNNJmghDL-nAdQYwUSbHG6_KrKiEkLk9XSV2gBJd6w8e2sh6sSLANeR0YgeQO6YzKSF8_wtpMAzuNE7PyVTUbqvwfT1pXHC_7VS-v4DtUhBJx8iKhMkQoK6JBeyPMAk7886rlA0hl/s200/262.jpg" width="143" /></a>Eight year old Martin Richard of Dorchester, MA died on April 15th waiting with his family at the Boston Marathon finish line. His mom and sister were also critically injured. His mother Denise, has had to undergo brain surgery. His six year old Sister, Jane, has lost a leg - her life was only saved by the heroic actions of bystanders. Bill, his father had to have several ball bearings removed from his leg. Martin's older brother, Henry, was not physically hurt in the blast... I can't imagine what they are facing now and what lies ahead. It would be something I would think of often as I ran.<br />
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I was alone for the marathon - the time without contact was something that I learned was far more a challenge than the running. Normally, there are other runners, people on the sidewalk at various points adding energy and encouragement. But for the 4 hours and 22 minutes I spent outside, I was almost completely by myself. Fueled by the knowledge that runners all over the world were joining me in marathons of their own, I kept moving. It was a long afternoon and I hadn't trained for that long of a run since the fall of 2012. My body protested. At mile 19 I hit a short and fast wall and it was then that the rain began to fall. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJND2Jx1GV5lJ1y6-5ZDhRfDq6DQQlkASbm5i4ayvdisTmSPM8QfUE8-uceKbw08M4E_8q0L11iVXAaMNWCEPnDHFC8HOZcG1lyxj5esfvoJZDN4nKuOhyZ3wgWh5oGEz3pC7uFNrQ_-I/s1600/maprun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJND2Jx1GV5lJ1y6-5ZDhRfDq6DQQlkASbm5i4ayvdisTmSPM8QfUE8-uceKbw08M4E_8q0L11iVXAaMNWCEPnDHFC8HOZcG1lyxj5esfvoJZDN4nKuOhyZ3wgWh5oGEz3pC7uFNrQ_-I/s320/maprun.jpg" width="298" /></a>I thought often of the Richard family, of the running community who was now doing what we knew how to do to support them. I thought of my two daughters, safely home and how thankful I was for that fact and how precious and delicate this life truly is. I thought of my grandfather who passed in January and the loss that is still deeply felt in his absence. Turning the final corner and heading down the hill, the rain falling softly around me, I ended my 26.2 mile tribute. There was no finish line, just my mother's driveway where I had mapped my run to end. My only witness a neighbor bagging up grass clippings two doors down who gave me a friendly nod. <br />
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Standing there I was suddenly overcome and could do nothing but sit, face in my hands, and let the tears fall. An unexpected emotional response to something that began and ended for a family I had never met and a little boy I'd only seen in photographs. A family who had lost him far too soon, who were still themselves recovering from physical injuries, and had such a long way to go. It made my run seem so insignificant and I only hope it helped raise more precious dollars for their future. To date, over 1,000 miles have been run by hundreds of runners for this cause. It's humbling to be part of such an incredible running network, a group of people who would rally and come together for a family so deserving in the darkest of days. <br />
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You can help too. Beyond running the miles, please donate to the cause. Just $26.20 to help out a family that is just at the beginning of a very long journey of healing. Visit this link to learn more about the runners around the world takling part and, if you can, please donate. <a href="http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/EnduranceTrust/westandunitedwerununited">http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/EnduranceTrust/westandunitedwerununited</a>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-24579454690998830492013-04-18T16:35:00.000-05:002013-06-20T09:24:17.349-05:00Be Still <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm always talking about moving. Moving forward, moving on, moving past... but there are those moments when there is no moving. There is almost no breath. This week's tragic events at Boston was, for many of us, one of those times. <br />
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And this post isn't about what happened in Boston. It's not political or religious. It's not a commentary on the media or the press.<br />
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It's about what happened during and after for those of us who were witnesses from afar; not there in the fray. We watched the images unfold from a distance, the faces wrought with terror, friends and family's safety unknown, images flooding the screen with bloody streets, the helpless carted away, the cries of the frightened, confused, and hurt. It's about the moments when we feel helpless.<br />
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I tell my girls as they come home from school to the images on the TV...This is one of those moments when what is seen can't be unseen. It doesn't feel real and nothing seems as it should be. We are shocked, horrified, unsure of where we are now and where we will be going. We forget everything but what is happening in the right now... hundreds of miles away. <br />
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Silently, my daughter watched the screen and I could see her physically change. Her shoulders dropped, her body withdrew inward, shrinking in response to the suffering, her eyes wet with tears of empathy, of fear, of disbelief. And she had no words in response but a soft but incredulous, "Mom...<i>why</i>?"<br />
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And I didn't give her an answer then, because there isn't one that satisfies. I took her hand, I pulled her close and I said instead, "Wait. Be still." <br />
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And we were. From our family room we saw runners who finished a marathon continue running - to hospitals to give blood. We saw strangers helping strangers. We saw first responders taking action and saving lives. We saw humanity, in its darkest of hours rushing forth despite danger to give aid, to give comfort, to give hope. We saw the strength of a city, the resolve of a running community mobilize and unite. We saw runners all over the country begin to plan immediately how they would offer assistance, how they would help, how they would honor and pay tribute. We saw an outpouring of love and selflessness emerge from the shadow of the destruction. <br />
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And it didn't make what happened go away, but like a wall it rose up to meet the wave of horror and not let it break through. The tragedy was met with strength, kindness, and conviction.<br />
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That Monday night as I tucked my girls into bed I said, "Taylor, are you afraid of what happened today?" <br />
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She paused, and I know that she was thinking hard before she answered. She said, "A little. But as bad as people can be to each other, there are always more that will do whatever they can to try to make it right or at least make it better. It's what we do."<br />
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And that's the answer. Time to move again. <br />
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<br />Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-88959532723524424812013-04-05T13:48:00.000-05:002013-06-20T09:24:38.098-05:00Life Lesson #22: Be Happy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Cate skips everywhere. From the couch to the pantry. From the car to the family room. Through the aisles of Target. And it doesn't dawn on her to move any other way. And there are a million ways she can move through life yet she always chooses to skip, her soft hair rising and falling as she goes. I love to watch her. It makes her happy. <br />
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Life is always going to have wrinkled, burned, or frayed edges. Things you wish never were, couldn't possibly have happened, or just something you could do without. You can dwell in those gaps and wonder what could be "if only." You can't always fix what's wrong or change what is, but you can choose how you respond. You can control how you react. You can be happy anyway.<br />
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Every day you wake up you get to choose so many things - and your attitude is the foundation of it all. You don't have to just do what you can with what you have either. You don't have to just attempt to survive... You can see the silver lining in everything. You can focus on the things that bring you joy, even small moments, and live there instead. Sometimes you can't change your surroundings. So if your reality must persist, then so must you. But always, always be happy...with a smile on your face and a skip in your step.
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AxKiyqyRiUI" width="420"></iframe>Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-37289503604833506222013-03-29T17:23:00.001-05:002013-03-29T17:28:36.135-05:00Siesta Key 2013This year I took the girls to Siesta Key for Spring Break. It's one of our favorite places on Earth. <br />
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<a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/landing?&utm_source=emplay&utm_medium=txt5" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;">www.onetruemedia.com</span></a></div>
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Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-44167686522154153872013-03-11T23:20:00.000-05:002013-03-11T11:24:27.863-05:00Hands<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-JtmVSa0KV24/TeqlhOjgi0I/AAAAAAAABCE/an-PJm2IEFk/s1600-h/hands2%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img align="left" alt="hands2" border="0" height="204" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Avzq5fEZoO0/TeqlhnwglPI/AAAAAAAABCI/jYN7CaOQI_Q/hands2_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; float: left; margin: 0px 8px 0px 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="hands2" width="191" /></a>I first posted this last year. I found it today and decided to re-post it. It's still very true. <br />
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I have delicate looking hands. Long, slender tapered fingers and small-sized palms. They don’t look like much, but my hands do work. I had acrylic nails in college for a few weeks and hated it. I’ve never been one to get manicures either – it’s just not me… I know plenty of women who do and I am not knocking it, it’s just not for my hands. <br />
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As a mom, my hands wipe tears and runny noses, form cookie balls out of dough, pick up toys, braid hair, fold clothes, sign permission slips, sew patches into the knees of jeans, slice apples, carrots, and cut pancakes and steak into bite sizes. They fill cups with milk, open jars of peanut butter, clap and cheer from the sidelines of dance recitals and soccer games. They apply sunscreen on hot days, button up coats on cold days, flip pancakes, and dust cabinets. I submerge them in bath water and dish water, and at the end of the day they tuck my babies in to bed. They comfort with a touch, encourage with a push, reassure with a hug, acknowledge with a wave. I love my mom hands. <br />
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In my house, my hands do double duty. No man around the house, and while my dad is stopping by to help me with things, in a lot of ways I’m on my own with the “guy stuff” that I had never really had to worry about. I’m constantly learning new skills. My hands kill spiders (and without Kleenex sometimes), change light bulbs, fill holes, remove and re-install door knobs (when the then four-year-old decides to lock the door and close it behind her when she leaves the bathroom). They mow, spray wasp nests, dig out sprinkler heads, and hang pictures. They haul bags of dirt and mulch, check oil, wash and wax the car, and even dig around in the disposal a few times. They build, maintain, and fix. I am beginning to really embrace my man hands.<br />
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My hands are a mess: callouses, tears, and scratches are the norm. But like badges of honor. I wouldn’t change a thing.Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-84688283898147639522013-03-10T11:48:00.000-05:002013-06-20T09:25:49.705-05:00Gluten-Free Questions Answered! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJg1-OHq_Gx1Oi0gnlg45O7Zu-MzAe09JbSFDSq-lpcoZHM2gm5fp_dCE8o1g28m5A54YY3zsS0DUOIDe2KSpG01AIhyphenhyphen5S5cyoxh-OW34DAO8bddPx77duwlSfQq0imICK78hb-mhvvmS2/s1600/glutenfree.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJg1-OHq_Gx1Oi0gnlg45O7Zu-MzAe09JbSFDSq-lpcoZHM2gm5fp_dCE8o1g28m5A54YY3zsS0DUOIDe2KSpG01AIhyphenhyphen5S5cyoxh-OW34DAO8bddPx77duwlSfQq0imICK78hb-mhvvmS2/s320/glutenfree.JPG" width="170" /></a></div>
I've been neglectful of my posting on my nutrition status as of late, mostly because it's all become so routine, it's not even a challenge anymore! On January 3rd, I wrote a <a href="http://carriea81.blogspot.com/2013/01/big-changes-one-day-at-time.html" target="_blank">blog post about my nutrition makeover</a>. All told, I'm 100% gluten free, dairy free, soy free, I drastically limit my caffeine and alcohol consumption and I don't eat anything processed or any sugar. I have a medical condition that includes treatment options involving dietary restrictions. While it's not required of me to do such a nutrition overhaul, I decided then to make these drastic changes for the sake of my health and I couldn't be happier.<br />
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I do get asked a lot of questions about it... questions about the specifics of what I eat, if I think it's working, if it's an effective way to lose weight, if it is helping my athletic performance, if it is difficult eating at restaurants, etc. I'll answer some of those here. <br />
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Now, I'm not one to regularly post pictures of myself in a bikini on my blog, but the most frequently asked question is from my female friends and it's about weight loss and body changes. I didn't set out to lose any weight going gluten-free, but I certainly have lost fat and my body has gotten smaller, leaner, and stronger in the process. I've never felt or looked better. I do think that it is an extremely effective way to lose and maintain weight loss if that is your goal. More than that, my athletic performance has drastically improved. I sleep better, have more energy, and recover much quicker. My body is in a great place on the inside and that's coming through to the outside.<br />
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I'm asked also about eating away from home. This one can be tricky, but you can't worry about being a high maintenance eater. Here are a few tips for eating away from home. <br />
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<ol>
<li>Be upfront. Tell the server that you have dietary restrictions. They may even have a gluten-free menu or help you find some good selections on the menu.</li>
<li>Ask how food is prepared. Sometimes chef's can make simple swaps to accommodate what you can or can't have. </li>
<li>Find something that's close on the menu and make modifications. Chef's are used to making changes. Don't feel badly if you need to make a change to a menu item. </li>
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The last thing I'll add is my new obsession with apple cider vinegar. I drink two tablespoons in a half cup of water or apple juice and a tablespoon of lemon juice two or three times a day. I've been doing it for well over a month. It's made my skin, teeth and eyes brighter, my hair is softer and shinier, it's a great simple daily detox, and has helped me dramatically in managing my acid reflux symptoms. </div>
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Read more about the benefits <a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-3598/7-Reasons-to-Love-Apple-Cider-Vinegar.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</div>
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Keep the questions coming! </div>
Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8709144124878813318.post-32757109853030454542013-03-09T11:22:00.001-06:002013-03-09T11:22:19.692-06:00Open WOD 13.1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The CrossFit Open is upon us. So far, more than 110,000 athletes, 2,400 teams, and 20,000 Masters have registered for this year's Open competition. More than 3,600 affiliates are represented from 115 countries around the globe. This is a huge jump from 2012, where only 69,000 athletes competed. This is one of the world's largest participatory events.
For five weeks and with five workouts, all the participants compete head to head in the same WODs recording our scores and watching the leader boards.<br />
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For most of the field, myself included, the intent is to compete mostly against yourself. Whether it's against your Open performance last year, or setting a baseline if this is your first time. Workouts are judged, times recorded and submitted to keep the field fair. The Open is a chance as athletes of all levels and abilities to see what we've got when the pressure is on. Ultimately, all roads lead to the CrossFit Games this summer where the fittest on earth will come together and compete for the top spot. My CrossFit Box is full of talented athletes. Our team is ranked 11th in the world and last year's third fittest man - Kyle Kasperbauer and 12th fittest woman - Stacie Tovar both train there. It's a motivating environment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEmTieAwxuj73yHRAZ2ne_rxTDyQCM35eZNvMheQanTvYaFosQkzyBONxHdPMBRt3PqmoS4pFQcVxAPy6xMU3deeTeEErOZzoUzeZNkjA9vx_RUNY1-opldW23s97kwBgG7CNH01rIgfl/s1600/13.1.2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEmTieAwxuj73yHRAZ2ne_rxTDyQCM35eZNvMheQanTvYaFosQkzyBONxHdPMBRt3PqmoS4pFQcVxAPy6xMU3deeTeEErOZzoUzeZNkjA9vx_RUNY1-opldW23s97kwBgG7CNH01rIgfl/s320/13.1.2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
WOD's for the Open are released each Wednesday for five weeks dubbed 13.1, 13.2, 13.3, 13.4, and 13.5. WOD 13.1 was released this week and so Thursday at noon it was my turn. <br />
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17 minute AMRAP (As many reps as possible) of:<br />
40 Burpees
30 Snatch, 75 lbs men / 45 lbs for women<br />
30 Burpees
30 Snatch, 135 / 75 lbs<br />
20 Burpees
30 Snatch, 165 / 100 lbs<br />
10 burpees
Max rep Snatch, 210 / 120 lbs<br />
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Intimidating and challenging the workouts are meant to push you outside your comfort zone, give you a new challenge each week, and bring together the global community of athletes that all love our sport of fitness. <br />
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Here's to 13.2...Carrie Adamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04768456806738253129noreply@blogger.com1