George News can run fast, too.

This morning I got myself up at 4:20 (thank you Daylight Savings) to get ready for the little SM race organized for Janessa and I.  I woke Ben up a little later, but too early, so he went back to sleep first in his bed, then on the couch.  I was excited, but not enough to keep me from getting sleepy during our drive after less than four hours of sleep.  I did well to get in bed relatively early for a potential 5 or 6 hours of sleep, but the party upstairs, Nate and Ben talking in the living room, my silly earphones that were blocking out a lot of the noise, the ridiculous "earliness" of bedtime, the anticipation of a new race, and the unusual amount of thoughts coursing through my head kept me lying awake for more than an hour in bed.  I believe I got in bed around 11, maybe a little after, but I remember the RA coming in to do check at around 1.

The race was awesome.  Albert Handal comes up and gives us a pre-race pep talk for encouragement.  "This race is rough.  This race is tough.  Twenty-seven hills is horrible.  I felt horrible after last year's."  Etc.  That was after we arrived an hour early to a dark field where I timidly found my way... right up to their house... where I wasn't supposed to park.  The drive took 20-30 minutes less than Google said it should.  So we were definitely early.  It was good though, because it took us about all that time to register, repark, get our clothes on, go to the bathroom, and walk back from the car which was probably like half a mile away.

So, like I said, the race was awesome.  We start, with Brittni shooting off a real gun, with perfectly fine intentions of keeping our shoes clean and killing the hills.  The first quarter mile helped us to realize that our shoes were hopeless and the hills were strong.  Ben Foote and I hung our behind George News and Jack for the whole race.  Our feet sludged through miles of mud and over, yes indeed, 27 grassy hills.  I slipped and fell once, to smear my behind and side with a nice layer of protective mud.  Ben fell forward once to catch himself with his hands and test his upper body strength.  Our lungs told us to go back to school where sitting in chairs was easy.  Our heart reminded us that being nervous around a pretty girl is not what makes it pump the fastest and hardest.  Our legs repented for being antsy and jittery in class or during a long car ride.  They said they'd never do it again if we would just stop.  But we didn't stop, suckas.  And we came back and played soccer for two hours instead.

All the people who made it out there too early this morning were troopers.  I don't even feel right "taking" their money.  I wish I could do something back for them.  I guess the only thing I can do is to continue to do my best to devote this temple God has given me to His work and to His glory.  I guess I can do my best to make the most of next year's struggles and challenges and possibilities.  I guess I can try to excel in my work and in my relationships with the people I meet in far away lands.  I guess it's the least I can do.

Thank you, Bens, for coming out.  Schnell felt like crap before the race and was amazing and persevering in spite of reeeally not wanting to.  Foote kept me company most of the race and encouraged me with powerful Danish guttural noises that sounded like Go Chris!  I loved the race today.  It was awesome.