Losing

"Please let this be over. I don't want it to be over." Today, I think. It's finally going to catch up to me. But it hasn't. At least I don't think so. Not yet.

I finished a good book on Friday, right as the sun was setting. It was a feel-good-romantic-love-kind of book, about three kids losing their parents in a car accident and the two single adults that inherit them, and fall in love with each other. Totally "life as we know it"-esque and yet, as I finished that last page I took a couple deep breaths, and smiled in satisfaction. It had its corny moments but I love those too. The handsome bachelor hero-turned father to three orphans was a professional golfer, and all the golf talk made me wistfully long to go golfing...with or without a good looking guy to help me practice my swing. Then, this morning, I began "Open," the autobiography of Andre Agassi. It drew me in, right from the beginning. I have a fascination with successful people. I love hearing their stories, how they beat the odds. It gives me ideas for how to handle things in my own life. Andre is different. As one of the top tennis players in the world, a gifted tennis icon, he hates tennis. Loathes it. It puts his body in excruciating pain, yet he finds himself continuing, whether it's because he's addicted to the pain, the challenge or the feeling of triumph from beating the odds.

I've only read to page 20 so far, and yeah I know, he retires before he's 40. But his internal battle with tennis reminds me of a battle I have every night...with sleep.

Blame the warm weather. Blame the extra hours in the day. I honestly don't know what it is, but the past three weeks have felt brutal and yet so alive at the same time. Andre talks about reaching the finish line at the end of a match, because the end gives off a magnetic force. When you get close, you can feel that force pulling you towards the end, but just before you come within range, or just after, you feel another force, equally strong, pushing you away. "It's inexplicable, mystical, these twin forces, these contradictory energies, but they both exist. I know, because I've spent much of my life seeking the one, fighting the other, and sometimes I've been stuck, suspended, bounced like a tennis ball between the two." This is as close as it comes to explaining what it feels like for me to go to bed.

I've never actually understood the concept of sleeping in. Don't get me wrong, sleep feels good. It pulls at me, tempting me, willing me to close my eyes and give in. I feel these pulls all day long, some days I actually think that I could fall asleep right on the floor in my cubicle, I'm that tempted. But then, when I finally get home at the end of the day, I feel a different pull, one that tells me that I'm free to do what I want for the next few hours. I can play as Much as I want. The knowledge is like a high, I want to do so many things at once! Then, sleep sounds boring. I'm not accomplishing anything while I sleep, how dumb is that! I could be reading, jogging, updating the software on my iPhone, unpacking from my beach trip, answering emails, listening to french podcasts, doing exercises in my french and german workbooks, doing yoga, laundry, cleaning my bathroom, going to dance class, learning how to sew, playing basketball, painting my nails, baking cookies, organizing my room, vacuuming the floor, working on my needlepoint, researching cool trips to southeast asia/caribbean, looking up ideas for paris this summer, looking at bus tickets to DC in June, locating that free tennis court and booking a time, catching up on the phone with Splash and other people that have called but I haven't responded yet, looking into pottery and painting classes, practicing drawing still life, organizing the linen closet, unloading the dishwasher. Ok I'll stop. These things run through my mind as it gets closer and closer to my bedtime, like this force pushing me away from wanting to sleep.

Lately it's been getting pretty funny. I will pack my day, not even getting home until 10 or 11 at night, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. I walk into my room, look at my bed, and a switch flips. I'm not ready. Uh huh, no way. Now I'm full of energy. Even as I lie down, knowing that I need the sleep, I'm coming up with things I can do, you know, until I fall asleep. Texting is probably my biggest coping mechanism. I text until I can't keep my eyes open, and then I drift off. Or I play sudoku, but that's almost worse because I get that high when I win each game and that keeps me playing longer.

Maybe when I have kids, and a basketball hoop in my backyard, I'll play basketball each night in the summer, after the kids have gone to bed, until I'm tired enough to fall asleep. Haha. Right now I don't have a backyard or the space for a basketball hoop. Or maybe, if I have a tennis court at my house, I'll power up the court lights, switch on the ball machine, and hit a few hundred tennis balls until I'm ready to sleep. That would be fun. I've packed a lot into the past three or four weeks, each night thinking I've finally done it, I'm going to hit that point of total exhaustion and be tired enough to want to sleep, and enjoy it. I'm not there yet, I still feel those two pulls, one during the day and the other, at night. There are still so many things I'd rather be doing than sleeping. Not to worry, I still get in around 6 hours of sleep a night. Because it's a necessity, and I've exhausted my other options. Why did sleep have to become so necessary?

OBX

So Lauren, where are you from? That's the million dollar question. "Ahhhhh..." I pause. What should I say? Park City? Potomac? But if I say Potomac then I have to explain that I moved when I was 12, before high school, which as everyone likes to tell me, doesn't really count. But if I say Park City, then everyone wants to know why I'm out east, which circles back to.....I'm a Potomac girl. I also really do love Utah and I've skied since I was a year old, so really...you can begin to see the dilemma.

This weekend brought back a flood of memories. The outer banks of North Carolina can best be described in one word: Magical. It's where my dad realized that he wanted to marry the incredible woman that is my mom...and have me! It's where I spent my summers since I was a baby, the only time I got to spend with all of my cousins, building giant sandy jacuzzis, riding bikes, rollerblading. It's where I learned how to water ski in currituck sound, it's where I learned to fly kites from Grandpa Glenn's boardwalk.

It's where I learned about Blackbeard, Headless Hattie and the ghost pirates that roamed the outer banks. It's also where I learned to go crabbing, catching crabs for our dinner and having big crab and shrimp feasts. I rode my tricycle around Splash and Grandad's courtyard and at night Grandpa would take us out on the beach to hunt for crabs.

It's also where I fell in love with outdoor showers and the wild horses that roam the island. The first time I've ever been scared of the water was swimming in the ocean at the outer banks, and I was carried away by a strong current where I could no longer touch the sand bar and Grandpa Glenn rescued me.

It's also where I learned to boogie board, and where my dad held my hand as we looked for shells together. We had movie nights, talent nights, charades nights, and lots of birthday celebrations.

Look at those long skinny legs!

When it rained we took boogie boards and played in the flooded streets. We played football on the beach. Got stung by jellyfish. Got splinters from the boardwalk. Ate lots of fudge. And did lots of puzzles. The teenage guys from our ward would show up early in the morning to surf with my dad. Grandad would take us fishing. The outer banks is where I had tuna fish with baby pickles every single day and my favorite toy was Dino the blown up green dinosaur (along with Babar the elephant).

My favorite part of the drive...the long bridge spanning the water

Although the memories I have seem to go on forever, my parents grew up there too, and the memories they have there could last a lifetime. In fact, not long ago when I was an intern, a man came up to me and said "you look just like your mother." I looked up, surprised. He said he remembered my mom from when he took his family to the outer banks and spent time with the Potters. I have an impressionable family, what can I say.

So I went back to my roots, made the 5 hour drive to Corolla and soaked in every part of it. It honestly felt like nothing had changed since I had left. The weather was hot, the beach Perfect in every way, the water cold but refreshing and the company was exciting to say the least. I ran into people that I grew up with, and a lot of people that knew my dad. It became a running joke actually, when I'd meet someone and they said "oh yeah, I heard about you" and my friends and would say "her or her legendary dad?" It's true, Bill Johnson is a legend on the east coast, and building quite the fan club.

This week felt like a year. I learned to merengue dance, swing dance, and then I went home. First to DC, then to Corolla, where I was reminded, this is where I'm from. Sometimes all it takes is a visit to where you started from, to get you pumped for where you are going, and remind you of who you really are. Hi, I'm Lauren, I'm from Potomac, Maryland, most recently Park City, Utah, and my dad is Bill Johnson. Oh yeah, and I love the beach!

1.5 lbs of fudge later...

No Chain

Smiiiile, it's Yankees time!!

It's Lo, comin' at you on a Bright and Gorgeous Sunday morning. When the sun's up, I'M Up! I'd rather be dead tired than dead lazy, which I guess sums up this week in a good way. I conquered more "fears" as I morphed into Julia Child in cooking class, conquering the art of creme brulee, chocolate souffle, quiche and chocolate ganache. I attended a benefit for addiction and alcoholism where Liza Minnelli and Judy Collins performed to honor music bigwig Clive Davis (I've decided I Adore going to benefits featuring yummy non-alcoholic drinks, celebrating sobriety is Right up my alley!), went to a panel on acceptable usage of social media (that's pr speak for keep your skeletons in the closet where they belong), and channeled my inner "Baby" as I learned to salsa dance. I'm now accepting Patrick Swayze applications, you know how to reach me. I cooked grab n go meals so I wouldn't have to keep eating at 11 pm, raised the roof at a birthday party, planted attempt #2 at gardening (I REALLY want a lemon tree but if I can't keep basil alive this may be a moot point), cleaned the apt until it sparkled, pondered while doing baptisms at the temple (which were performed in Spanish, I just love how no matter the country or language, it's still the same!), picked up my Favorite summer treat of Passion Tea Lemonade (big shout out to Grandma Mary for the Starbucks card, it's been put to VERY good use), tanned at the park, then an Art lecture on medieval armory and weaponry at the Met (where I became besties with the assistant to the editor of Cosmo--you can't make this stuff up), rode the bus to do my visiting teaching (not only is Jiyoung a Star when it comes to rent advice but shaved ice is an Asian tradition and it tastes SO good with Mochi), and topped it all off with a Broadway play. Oh, and I finished two books this week! What did I learn? That I'm getting three times as much done with energy that seemingly comes out of nowhere but in fact is created because I like the feeling of accomplishment that comes from doing hard things.

One of the books I read was Every Second Counts by Lance Armstrong. It's neat to read about the Tour-the suffering, agony and triumph, seen through his eyes. One thing about me is, I've learned to stay away from overly sad books or movies, I become Way too emotionally involved. My mom had to take Shiloh out of my 6-year-old hands when I got hysterical over the dogs being starved and abused; coincidentally, Disney's the Fox & Hound was also banned (side note: I think EVERYTHING should have a happy ending). One day, I was talking with a friend about suffering and trials that other people go through, and I broke into tears over how sad it was. My friend, who happened to be a guy, looked on in horror and quickly tried to make me stop. For women crying can sometimes be cathartic; for men it's the kiss of death. The next day I got a text from him, super simple, that said "Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it."-Helen Keller. He had no idea the impact that made on me. Simple, but to the point and I've never forgotten it.

When Lance became an activist for cancer, he pretty much did anything and everything he could to meet with people that had cancer or suffering, and try to help them. I think that like him, I can handle my own suffering and difficulties but watching other people is a different story. It was hard to watch them suffer as he had suffered, as only a cancer patient knows. He quickly learned that focusing on the overcoming of the suffering, was where it really mattered. In a nutshell, that's the Tour de France. The winner of every Tour de France is not the person that has suffered the least, it's a celebration of overcoming the most, as a person and as a team. Only in biking does Everyone on the team suffer, sacrifice, work together to get the glory for one person, it's unique in that respect.

Lance shared an anecdote that sums up how you look at suffering, not focusing on the suffering itself but focusing on the triumph of overcoming it. George Hincapie had a saying for when he was feeling good. The chain on a bike cranks the wheels and creates the tension in your legs that moves the bike forward. If there was no chain, you'd spin nothing, air, making it feel super easy (you'd also go Nowhere). The postal team would be in agony climbing up a mountain, body operating at capacity and wanting to quit, and then George would say "Man, can you check something for me?" -What? "I don't feel a chain, is there a chain on my bike?" HAH! Everyone cracked up, and "no chain" became code for feeling good, no matter what was going on.

Suffering through cancer is what made Lance realize he needed to live each day like it's his last, Carpe Diem. Try the things you aren't good at, embrace hard things and realize there's a satisfaction that comes when you beat whatever it is you're facing. I think that's what I love most, about this week and about many other things in my life, is that exhilarating feeling when you are doing things outside of your comfort zone and pushing through it, only to do it again another day. What makes my life hard is not going to be what makes your life hard, which is why you've got to figure out what your own challenges and hardships are and work on those. Life isn't meant to be a standstill, life is meant to learn and grow and be stretched. Ask me how I'm doing today. No chain...

Torching that creme brulee GOOD

L

“The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively”-Bob Marley

Wind whipping through my long blonde hair, legs pumping, bell ring-a-dinging, that's how I spent mother's day in DC. It turns out not only do I miss driving, but BIKING. Thanks to Jensen and his brilliant idea to rent bikes, this has become my new Favorite thing to do in DC. And it is so Easy to do!! All three of us rode around the tidal basin, watched the planes fly over us into Reagan airport, and whooped war cries as we sped through tunnels.

The Only thing that could make today better is, you guessed it, my incredible family. After this weekend we can replace cracker jack girl scout with fearless hypothermic survivor on mom's list of amazing accomplishments. WAY TO GO MOM!! The first highlight was talking to Pete, it didn't really hit me until when we said goodbye and he said this was the last time he'd talk to us until he gets home. Cue the tears. (JOYful tears, obviously) The second highlight was being on the phone with both Splash And my mom, two generations of mothers.

This week was learning all about love. When the sun is shining I love to blast bob marley and daydream that I'm on a beach, instead of on my way to work. Is this love has been stuck in my head allllll day e'rry day mon. (Jamaican accent ya dig?) I love reading cool articles and a Huge thanks to all the people that sent me interesting articles this week And gave feedback to me!! One hit me in particular, from AnaLee, called What Is Love. It featured in the Huffington Post, and talked about what love Really is. Two things jumped out at me. For one thing, love is a choice. Grandpa Glenn summed it up best by giving the analogy of Christ's love for us:
He loves us today and he will love us through the eternities to come. How does he do this? He does this by choosing to love us. Love at its roots is a choice, a decision. He chooses to see in us those things that endear us to him. He knows who we really are and he loves who we really are. I am sure that he also feels great love for us. But ultimately, love is a choice. There must be reason to commitment and to love. He said, ". . . as I have loved you, love one another." I feel very loved to have such a wonderful person as Grandpa Glenn in my life, who offers up such great wisdom.

The second thing the article mentioned was that love, is tolerance. My brother Bryan is talented in ways I could never hope to be. He's athletically gifted, can play pretty much any instrument and his balance and coordination is off the charts. I learned that trying to follow in his athletic footsteps would result in my broken arm, twice. Beyond that, he's taught me a bit more.

A few weeks ago we got in a heated argument. I was being extra bossy, and he was trying to take it in stride. At one point he'd had enough and told me that if I was his friend speaking to him like this would be absolutely unacceptable. Or really he would just call me insane and never talk to me again. But since I'm his sister and have helped him out a bunch he's just gonna keep his day moving... Granted, it wasn't exactly a compliment but to me it felt like a HUGE one. I had pushed him a bit too far and he had shown me tolerance, and more importantly, Commitment to tolerance. The author of the Love article said that in essence, this is what's wrong with our society. We abandon relationships with each other and those we love because they make us unhappy and why should we stick with them when it gets hard?

"Real love often occurs in a context in which the feeling of love is lacking, when we act lovingly despite the fact that we don't feel loving." Exactly what Bryan was showing me, love and tolerance. This of course, warranted a heartfelt apology from me, but I haven't forgotten that lesson he taught me.

"We are taught that it is good not to compromise, not to put up with anything we don't like, not to sacrifice our own beliefs for anyone or anything. Yet compromise and sacrifice are the cornerstones of marital love." I'd never be where I am today if it weren't for the enormous sacrifices of both parents. The time and energy my mom has put into making Other people happy, instead of focusing on herself, could qualify her for sainthood. There has never been a time when she hasn't put 200 percent into her job as a mother, though I know I've definitely given less than that at my own job. To straddle the dual roles of mother And best friend is a feat I would have thought impossible, if it weren't for the relationships she has with each of her four kids.

I think as a child you sometimes forget that your parents make the choice to love you and sacrifice for you every day, that it's not as obligational as it appears. But by doing so they show you that Real, deep, meaningful love can exist, made through tolerance, sacrifice, commitment and above all, choice. Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, and as Splash reminded me, one day future mothers.

Love,
Lolo

Is This Me?

“I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”-Michael Jordan

Be Like Mike Gatorade Ad

If the YouTube video doesn't work, click on the "Be Like Mike Gatorade Ad" text above. Some things really stick in my head, and at random times I find myself remembering them. Take this Gatorade commercial, I happen to love all sports commercials. Maybe another time I'll post the Ronaldo vs. Nadal soccer tennis commercial, it is SO COOL. But the MJ commercial is kind of a legend, I mean who doesn't want to be like Mike?! The guy is an icon. I read Chicken Soup for the Sports Fan's Soul (definite keeper for the bookshelf) and there are awesome stories about MJ, how he played street ball with some young inner city kids in Chicago after his games, he would check up on them and they'd have to bring him their report cards; he not only was focused on becoming great himself but on helping others believe in themselves to be great. He's had some tough moments. But don't we all.

One of my favorite movies is The Blind Side. Since we've previously established that I'm an excellent motivator, this should not come as a surprise that I consider Leigh Ann Tuohy (played by Sandra Bullock) to be my movie twin. We cheerleaders think and act alike. Lately, this line from the movie keeps coming back to me....Leigh Ann and Michael are shopping for clothes at the Big & Tall, and she's trying to help him pick out something. Her advice is "Before you choose something, think of yourself wearing it. And say to yourself, 'Is This Me?'" Is This Me. That phrase has been playing through my head on repeat this week.

Every Sunday I review my week and try to come up with some things that I've learned. What did I learn? How can I improve the next week? What should I be doing more of? This week's lesson is a little hard for me to share, it's personal and I don't usually like to get super personal. But it's also an important thing for me to acknowledge about myself. Some decisions are clear cut, totally obvious that this thing is ME, that it falls in line with who I am. Other times, not so much.

Truth be told, I have been dying to take swing dance lessons. My gym even offers them for free, along with tango, ballroom, salsa and other latin dance lessons. I tried persuading my entire office, to see if anyone would go with me. Nope! NO ONE. Every Monday I would tell myself, ok, tonight you are going to go. And then I would chicken out. Why? I love swing dancing! I love trying new things! I LOVE DANCING. Then the opportunity came, I was supposed to go swing dancing with my roommate Rebecca and a group of people. FINALLY I'd go! When Thursday rolled around, I was coming up with every excuse there was as to why I couldn't go-sore throat, dizziness, not in the mood, I had to be in bed early, etc. I had myself CONVINCED that I really didn't want to do this. Rebecca however, patiently waited after I'd given 20 reasons why I couldn't go, and then somehow convinced me that I was going.

Alright. So we show up. The whole way there, I'm terrified out of my mind what this will be like. I'm going to suck, I just know it. I'm going to have to dance with some weirdo guy, or better yet I'll be so bad none of the guys will want to dance with me. To solve this fear, I had made sure that James was coming. James taught me how to country dance, he already knows my skill level and he's a great dancer, so I figured at least I got that covered. We get to "Club 412" and it turns out it's NOT a club, it's a dance studio. Ohhh boy. I was dressed up in a black flowy dress, heels, and tights (Clubbing attire, Hellooo!). Everyone else was in jeans and sneakers, including my roommate (how Could I have Missed this?!). To make matters worse, the lighting and mirrors lining the walls made my dress look see-through. At this point, I'm ready to RUN not walk, to the nearest exit. I'm frantically thinking up excuses as to why I can't stay. I literally dread these super uncomfortable moments. Then James texts that he's stuck at work for another two hours. CRAP. There goes my dance partner. I am Officially out of my element because it's not like I can dance with Rebecca (no wait, embarrassingly enough I DID suggest that but she said she wouldn't be the lead). So the first hour is a lesson on how to swing dance. We practice getting our "rhythm" and get randomly paired up with partners. When I'm super uncomfortable doing something, I tend to either Remove myself from the Situation (this wasn't an option) or get super giggly and smiley-faced (bingo!). I had this kind of crazy grin on my face as I introduced myself to my partner. After 15 minutes, the uncomfortable feeling was cut in half, and I was chatting up a storm with every guy I danced with. There was an adorable British guy that was positively hilarious. When the lesson ended, the real dancing began. I've never had so much FUN!! Some guys were totally amazing, teaching me the charleston, spinning me a million different ways and all I had to do was just follow along. I couldn't BELIEVE I had thought I'd hate this. I couldn't wait to go back!

Fast forward to the next night. Yet again, I had failed to accurately understand what I had agreed to. I was supposed to go out dancing for my friend's bachelorette party. What I Didn't realize until the morning of, is that I was attending a dance class. No wait, a POLE DANCE class. Oh. Hunh. You know, I watched this news segment on the popularity of pole dancing as a form of exercise and I admit, I was totally intrigued. But never followed up on that. Friday night, I'm starting to get that uncomfortable "maybe this isn't me" feeling. The nervous grin is starting to make a comeback. I show up to the dance studio, and there's already a pole dance class in session. Pinned to the wall are TEENY TINY spandex booty shorts, that they recommend for proper pole dance attire. Cue the nervous giggles. Almost everyone else in the party showed up wearing spandex pants like I was, we passed on the booty shorts. Second night in a row I am feeling SO out of my element. Except that, it turned out, the class was a blast. I did NOT fall flat on my face like I was certain would happen. I was actually kinda good at it! (Don't worry family, I'm not considering a career change.) Once again, I found myself having the best time of my life. I had worried for nothing, I loved it! It also helped that we were all amateurs in the class.

So what did I learn this week. Well, I learned that sadly, I talk myself out of things when my confidence wanes. I give into a fear of failure, rather than embrace it and give it a shot. I would have never realized I love dance classes, if I hadn't gone. How many other things have I shied away from, that could have been fun and amazing experiences? There's a talk by Elder Holland that I've been obsessed with. It's called "Cast Not Therefore Away Your Confidence." It's about people that give into their doubts, their fears, and let it talk them out of really neat and good experiences. They get led into thinking, maybe this isn't what they truly want. Obviously Elder Holland is referring to more serious experiences like serving a mission, or getting married, or switching careers. But I think it applies to a lot of things. Things that at the time seem so awesome, and then as the time gets closer and closer (I'm thinking of the minutes before my dance classes), I start to panic and talk myself out of it. I need to give more things that interest me, a try before I run away. My fear of failure, of being uncomfortable, should NOT talk me out of something that could prove to be great. That's why I like that Michael Jordan quote on failure so much. BE LIKE MIKE!! If I fail, make a big mistake, it should be because I tried. Not because I was too scared to go through with something. Is This Me? It turns out, a lot of things are Me, more than I realized.

P.S. I signed up for a subscription to get the ensign ($10 bucks, you Can't beat that) and FINALLY it arrived with all of the conference talks. Made. My. Week. Check out page 76 to see Price Foulger, what a stud!

Never

“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever. That surrender, even the smallest act of giving up, stays with me. So when I feel like quitting, I ask myself, which would I rather live with?”-Lance Armstrong

I wish that I could wear Sperrys and colored skinny jeans every day of the year. I'm not hard to miss these days, sporting either a bright pink or TEAL (I would like to give GIANT HUGS to whoever chose Teal to become the color of Summer!) top, paired with bright teal, pink, red, white, or black, stretchy skinny jeans. Life looks pretty good when you're walking the streets dressed brighter than the sun.

Speaking of fun, my bff and twin (also goes by the name 'mom'), just spent almost a week with me. Apparently I'm a pretty effective personal trainer since she lost a few pounds. Hard to believe given the full-scale war against sugar at home, but there you have it. Besides doing lots of shopping, we got to have some great one on one talks. The more I interact with my parents, the More I begin to understand the infinite depths of unconditional love. Not just what it means to have unconditional love towards your children, but unconditional love in a marriage. I'm grateful they show me both of these things on a daily basis because it shows me that 1. really strong relationships take lots of work, and 2. unconditional love is a necessary and important part of progressing as a person.

Wednesday mornings I usually wake up at 4 or 5 am, because it's P Day and that's around the time I get a letter from Pete. Pete is one of those people that has a high threshold for pain which is probably why he's such a good cyclist. He can pretty much take anything. He's also fearless -- arguably borderline reckless sometimes, but boys will be boys. As I thought about Pete, the phrase by Winston Churchill came to mind: "Never give in -- never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense." This, in essence, is the difference between Winners and Losers (quitters).

I may not be the best surfer (I try not to exaggerate here. ok, I'm a TERRIBLE surfer, one of these days though...) but I watch a lot of surfers, mainly my brothers and my dad. One of the Hardest parts about surfing is getting to the wave and then Catching the wave. That's usually the part where I fail. I've sat on the beach and watched the boys head out into the water, and watched them literally paddle in the same place for almost 20 minutes, as they get crushed by wave after wave after wave. It's actually kind of hard to watch, you can see their arms get so tired, know they are almost past the point where the waves break, and watch them get pounded by another wave. Sometimes your frustration seems to mingle with theirs. For me, it's probably easier because I at least know they are almost there....in the water it's much harder to see the end in sight. The amazing thing is, that even after all of this paddling, total exhaustion, you see them finally reach the point where they wait for waves (that's a technical term in case you missed it), and then they get ready to paddle for all they're worth to catch a wave. Only to ride that wave and battle back out to catch more. I admit, this process Fascinates me! That someone is willing to go through that much work and effort, just to ride ONE wave. (Granted, it's not always like this, some days it's far easier) but the lesson is the same. Never give up on yourself, never give up on your dreams, never, never, never...give up.

The second lesson that I take from surfing is this: give it everything you've got, and then some. Surfers are paddling their guts out for ONE wave (ok I understand this could be The ride of your Life, but since we've established I'm not a pro surfer, you can understand my rookie grasp of surfing) and they do it because they Love surfing and to them, it's totally worth it!! I should be doing the same thing, about things that matter to me in my own life. If it's worth it, I should be putting in 200 percent. Charging waves, going for it, fearless and determined to keep at it, and stick with it.

I'd like to think that I won't ever be that person to give up-- whether it's on an idea or giving up on a person, I will be loyal and battling until the end. Catch one wave, ride the high until it's time to once again throw all my effort and energy into working hard at something. In the end, you win not because you won every wave, every opportunity you worked hard it, you Win... because unlike everyone else...you Never gave up.

Over and out.
-Lolo