Keeping up with the Clarks

Hero

2016-08-03T23:52:00.002+01:00

So this is my Captain. Soon to be Major, no DOUBT. 😘. And Hero.

He stands for everything we both believe in.

(Super) hard work. STRONG leadership. Sacrifice. #Merica.

My Flight Commander in Field Training (as Cadets...in college) called us Heroes. For nothing, basically. For doing a certain amount of push-ups? Who the hell cares. I guess it meant something at the time. To push yourself the hardest physically. But in the real world, "Hero" means so much more.

Sometimes it sort of kills me that I'm not still doing what he is doing.

But if I was, I wouldn't see him (at least) 6 out of every 18 months. Almost guaranteed.

He is my best friend and I love him so much. So it's hard to imagine that as the MINIMUM.

And that *may not* seem like a lot. If not, well, try it. Then get back to me.

When I was in Kandahar, we got rocketed all day every day. I really didn't think anything of it at the time but it wasn't the best place to be. Dave recognized that fact more than I did when I was there. I still think it was *nothing* compared to what the true heroes go through outside the wire. But it was real, and it would have been *the norm* for us if I would have stayed in the Air Force any longer. Oh, to be so naive again.

I've digressed.

I love this man with every little fiber of my being. And he is simply amazing at what he does. As a pilot and as a leader.

I get mad when he works himself too hard. But it's also what I love about him. He cares about doing what is right; he cares about the people. He cares about making the people do what is right, about making them stronger and better leaders.

I would love to complain about all of the sacrifices I'M making as a military spouse. But I also don't want to do that at all. AT ALL. Because I'm with him.

But burning people and families out...it's real. It's what is happening to our military of courageous and dedicated men and women. It's extremely sad. I've watched a man who came flying out of the womb to defend his country burn. out. In a few short years. I see how so very fast he has aged. And he keeps going.

This is not a political post...it's just meant to highlight the work ethic, leadership and contribution of just one man. Surely he isn't the only one; he is just an example.

I love you, Dave, and I am so very proud of you. More than blog words can ever express.

The Air Force will be so fortunate to soon have you as an instructor, leading other pilots to be the best of the best. See you soon, Fairchild AFB.

❤️

The Escape is Seattle-bound, Clark family to follow

2016-07-19T21:53:00.002+01:00

Today we dropped the Escape off at the Vehicle Processing Center to be shipped to Seattle (but not before getting it detailed and cleaned for inspection at Top Gunn! Seriously, see below. Super nice guy, though, & great service). It passed inspection without any issues and our inspector thoroughly enjoyed blasting the super cold air conditioning while inspecting the rest of the vehicle...he could not get over how cold it got and it's been 90 degrees here the last couple days so all the Brits are roasting! We even got to hear about his last night's cold shower & chilling naked in the garden. Yup. I wanted to tell him that we're used to super cold a.c. in America but didn't want to rub it in :) For now, we're miserable with them and I'm glad he got to cool off for a few minutes.

Today, it felt like the PCS officially began. We shipped the first part of the family back to the States.

A car a family member, you ask? Well, sure. To some, maybe to most, it's just a car.

But to me cars always hold a lot of memories. It already has a road trip to Wales with friends and a beach retreat with the dogs under it's belt. It was the shiny new Christmas/birthday present we shopped for after the Audi died on me and provided me some of those comforts that we happily went without while here but, let's be honest, sometimes really miss. Comforts & peace of mind like....knowing the car will start.

It has so many adventures and road trips in it's future in Washington. I can't wait to throw the dogs in there and take them to lakes and mountains and parks. Maybe that's the thing about cars. They are full of memories and stories, like houses, but they can move from place to place and bridge the gap between all of the change. Maybe I get emotionally attached to cars because of all the places they takes us.

And if the car is headed back, then *surely* we are too. See you when we land, Escape. I know you'll be there to get us to our next stop on this wild ride: Spokane!

2016

2016-01-11T23:11:00.001+00:00

Hey, blog! Long time, no writing. I neglected you and my love for writing last year. I'm sorry.

11 January. Slowly creeping away from the 1st, but the year is still fresh.

On New Year's Day, my FB feed was flooded with posts about throwing away the idea of resolutions, which imply "failure" in the year prior. That resolve means to find a solution to a "problem," and we, as individuals, are not "problems." I particularly like the line "The way you showed up for your life the past year was necessary for your growth." I'm not sure who that quote is from originally, but I'm totally on board with this line of thinking. We should appreciate our chance to start over and try again, according to Elizabeth Gilbert. We might succeed, we might fail. But at least we get to try again. And again and again. Amen.

Resolutions should just sort of be on-going. You can start over whenever you want, really.

This mentality is much more encouraging and healthy than feeling defeated during the first week of a New Year and feeling like you have to wait until January of the next year. No way. I enjoy the rollercoaster of the highs and lows all year long, baby.

For the past couple years, I've been struggling a lot with productivity, focus and working towards my goals. But I've also learned a great deal about myself and it's just time to move on and use those lessons. But not without re-hashing all the misery.

One of the main reasons we wanted to live overseas was to travel. While I considered working while we lived here, I didn't try particularly hard to make that happen. Partly because I already felt lost when we got here, not sure of what I want to do with my life or what I want to be when I grow up. I had already gotten one Master's degree I wasn't really using and my interests were changing....making me really hesitant to go back to school and spend more money, too. Unless I was 100% sure of what I wanted to do (but are we ever, really?). As time went on, I realized it might be difficult to get our vacation times to line up if I got a job, making it difficult to travel. And wasn't that the point of being here? (sounds kind of like an excuse, doesn't it?) And partly, and probably the biggest reason, is I've felt a gradual decline in my confidence, even though my values and what I care about most have become more clear. The more time that passes, the scarier it is to get back out there. Without really realizing it, I started numbing everything with beers and banana nut muffins (Brené Brown reference).

But you can't have your cake and eat it, too. You can't have the luxury of getting to travel and see the world and not worry about work and ALSO feel fulfilled when you are not engaging with your passions and interests. Well, I can't, apparently.

But I'm interested in beer and wine and banana nut muffins. So there was that. Numb on.

After 2 years, I've realized that when I get home from the fun, fancy trips, I'm still empty and the high wears off. There is still beer and banana nut muffins, but those just fill me up, not fulfill me.

I've gained plenty of weight since being here. I've remained fairly active, but haven't taken great care of myself overall. I haven't kept a good routine, which I've learned I absolutely need in order to be productive and happy. But I also don't look at those extra 10 lbs too negatively. They've put a lot of things in perspective for me and I know how to get rid of them. So no point in getting down about it.

It's taken a few years to realize or acknowledge that I truly do miss the camaraderie of the Air Force. I guess I have acknowledged that before, but the feelings have gotten stronger and more meaningful with time. I really miss belonging to something I care so deeply about. Distance makes the heart grow fonder?

Without a routine, I have generally felt overwhelmed and small tasks felt daunting. If I built myself a to-do list of 20 things in the morning...prioritization became an issue because did I really have to do all those things? No. Were they all really important? I don't know. I made the list, why didn't I know?!? Should I be looking for a job right now? Or maybe start writing that book I dream about writing? Because obviously I don't feel fulfilled. I don't know, but I don't even know where to start. Back to vacuuming. And on and on.

Sound silly? Well if not one person out there can relate, call me a freak.

I had no problem giving myself plenty to do. I just had a problem doing all the things. Instead of just tackling one thing and moving on to the next and not worrying about what I didn't get done or what was left for the next day, I let myself feel defeated. Boredom wasn't the problem. Lack of focus, absolutely. Throw too much clutter in my environment in there and...what a mess.

On that note, when I worked full time, we somehow got all the laundry and grocery shopping done and meals on the table and the house cleaned and the dogs cared for....yet now these things seemed to be a full time job in themselves and the monotony of it got boring and exhausting and I felt like I was failing at all of it. I mean if that is all you really have to do, shouldn't you be perfect at it? But my mind was always wandering in other directions other than meal planning.

While in some ways my confidence has taken a hit, I've also learned to dig deeper. I've learned to lean on the friends and loved ones who truly support me and are in my corner. Who I can confide in. And (at least try) not to worry about what the rest of the people think. Because while I always thought or wanted to believe I didn't care about what others think, none of us want to be judged. I've learned to consciously remind myself that it. doesn't. matter. What they think. Truly believing these things to our core requires really awesome self talk and awesome people to remind you. I'm going to drop another big name in this post- Chalene Johnson. Ok she isn't my close friend, but DANG does she radiate confidence and authenticity like a boss. I've learned a lot from her videos, podcasts and her Success Academy.

On an overall gloomy note, I've generally just felt down a lot. And consistently. But that has forced me to take a look at why. And figure out how to fix it. If I can recognize certain things that I miss that did make me happy, and the things that I want to avoid that don't make me happy...isn't that progress? I don't have it all figured out and I definitely have a long way to go but I feel a bit more wise with a little tougher skin. About to turn 31.....'bout damn time.

I've learned so much during the struggles. I guess that is my whole point here. None of it was really clear at the time; it's only come together retrospectively. I guess it's more like... "The way you showed up for your life (or didn't) the past year was necessary for your growth."

So 2016 is just a year that I'm kind of excited about. I've got a lot of lessons in my toolbox. A little better understanding of who I am and what I need in my life and what is missing. A little bit more confidence to move forward and a little better idea of where I'm headed. I did allow myself to press a reset button in the last week and a half. Part of that was just making myself take all the positives away from the mess I feel like I've been in. I'm getting back into a workout routine, filling my happiness and gratitude jars each night, and accepting baby steps as progress.

I guess my resolution is to just keep going and definitely look back on what I've learned when I'm feeling overweight, not confident, not focused, not productive, not good enough, not __________. Because I need to be a better version of myself in order to pour myself out to the world and contribute in a way that is meaningful and important to me. I don't want to waste as much time as I have been. Time is precious. If you are drained, lost, feeling similar in any way...I hope this inspires you to do the same.

Normandy

2015-06-21T08:30:00.002+01:00

Normandy is beautiful countryside.

Our trip was amazing.

It's strange saying that, given the nature of what we went there to see.

It's almost impossible to imagine what went on there 71 years ago. But we tried. Just to be there is completely humbling.

I don't remember feeling much of anything when I learned about D-Day and World War II in school. In fact, I don't really even remember when I learned about it, what grade I was in or any of the details. As we walked from site to site and museum to museum, reading story after story of what really went on, I thought how terrible it is that I didn't feel emotional about anything that happened until I was standing right on the Normandy landing sites at age 30.

As I got older and saw my brother going through ROTC and what he was preparing to do in the wake of 9/11, I developed a deeper appreciation for our military and eventually my own desire to serve my country. But as we walked through the Normandy American Cemetery the morning before we drove back to Calais, after 2 days of absorbing what D-Day REALLY meant for the U.S., Europe and really the world, I listened to a French tour guide explain to a group of young American kids the importance of what the U.S. military fought for and defended during that time, that the freedoms and values we have today were protected by them and why we must always remember what they did, and tears rolled down my face. It was powerful. This French woman had such a deep appreciation for that day and that War and our country. And I felt like I had never appreciated any of it nearly as much, until I was standing in the middle of the American Cemetery.


Normandy American Cemetery. There are 9.400 graves there, out of 407,000 U.S. military who died during WW2.

That might sound strange. I'm patriotic. I was in the military. I miss serving my country. My husband is in the military. I completely support the military and appreciate all that they do. There are so many ways to support the military, whether it is monetarily, through volunteer groups, serving yourself or being that supportive spouse, family member or friend. But I realized for me that is the *easy* part. All the brave ones who are gone...it's those who we must make ourselves remember and think about. Of course we don't forget about those who we knew personally or are connected to in some way, but every life lost is so very important and I know I do not think about that often enough. After this trip, that became clear to me. I felt everything very deeply that weekend.

Every soldier who gave their life deserves our remembrance on a more individual level. Every unknown and missing solider has a name and loved ones without closure and they deserve our remembrance on a more individual level, not only as a collective group we call POW/MIA.

The blood that was shed for liberation is absolutely astounding.


The steps we walked from Omaha Beach up to the Cemetery

Can you imagine this beautiful water as the 'Bloody Omaha?' It's so incredibly sad. But don't we owe it to our men to remember when it wasn't so beautiful?

We had lovely French hosts at a home on Omaha Beach. Emmanuel served us a fresh, delicious breakfast at whatever time we chose both mornings. He talked with us and helped us make the most of our time, gave us a book of information to reference and treated us like friends when he made us a reservation at the nice local restaurant down the street. We went back there for dinner the second night and I think the staff were pleased we enjoyed Normandy and dining with them so much, giving us some Calvados on the house :) Everyone we met was so friendly.

Here are my trip pictures on Flickr. I wanted to capture everywhere we went, and even some of what I read. So sometimes there are pictures with a lot of words that you would have to zoom in to read, but you might find some of it interesting. Even all the information on landing vehicles, trucks and tanks starts painting a picture of just how massive the operation was.

This trip was one of my favorites ever, and I know that it probably always will be. It made an impact on me that I will be forever grateful for.

Tales of Moldy Bread & a SAHW

2015-06-02T17:43:00.002+01:00

Walking into the living room this morning holding a large container of peanut butter, my husband asks "Hey Breanne, all of the bread is moldy so do you mind if I just take this peanut butter to work and I will buy a loaf of bread before my flight.....?"

No. Not at all. I do not mind. Take all of the peanut butter.

Responds the worst wife ever.

My heart is clearly not in being solely responsible for the grocery shopping or providing for my hard-working husband. While I always strive to be better at this (and seriously I'm always at the grocery store), I am not into meal planning and sometimes I feel like I'm living like a college student who eats whatever is laying around. Ok maybe a healthier student....an apple here, a piece of cheese there, wine always. Or someone who doesn't have time because they work all day.

But I don't. I don't do that anymore. That is not my life. I *do* miss it.

And I fill my days with plenty of things, but meal planning like a grown-up is not one of them. I should be at the grocery store, getting everything we need. I feel guilty not being perfect at this. How have I not perfected this yet?!

It's amazing how much guilt I can feel for not being a perfect homemaker now that.....that is one of my primary duties.

But I liked it better when I had a different purpose and we could share responsibility for moldy bread.

Dave is the breadwinner. Should he not be responsible for the bread?!

Ok bad joke.

I know that I, and only I, can change the course of my life's work. It is up to me to gather the strength, take the risk, take a leap of faith and acknowledge (what I think is) the passion that has been screaming at me and making me perform so terribly as grocery shopper, among other things. I've been ignoring it for so long ("it"....the "passion" = coaching)

The moldy bread is just a reminder of how long. Sorry, Dave! I love you and am always grateful for the life you've given us and your willingness to eat *whatever* is available for lunch.

Respect Each Other: Think Before You Post

2015-05-02T13:27:00.003+01:00

I use social media quite a bit. I am not perfect, and I'm sure I have occasionally posted a photo or two that would be best left off the internet.

But when it comes to speculation about fatalities in our military community- absolutely not.

This week, one of our KC-135s had an in-flight emergency and "disappeared" off the radar over the English Channel in the middle of the night. Somehow, this information very quickly made it to the media. This was the first problem. Why in the world....

The second problem is that the "news" was very quickly published in the Daily Mail and probably other outlets without verification with our leadership or Public Affairs office. If they had tried that first, there would not have been an article. This is really unbelievable. The media is out of control. I see this as blatant disrespect for our military & our military families. But it's no news that the media just sucks these days.

The third problem, and the one we can control individually as spouses and therefore in our military community, is that the article seemed to spread like wild fire. Once it is in print, this will undoubtedly happen to a certain point. But don't be a part of the problem by posting it on Facebook or wherever else.

Now, spouses lay awake at night worrying....is that one of ours? My husband is flying tonight but I'm not sure where. My husband isn't flying but my best friend's husband is on that flight...did something really happen? What is going on?

All for nothing.

Please contact your leadership before you re-post or share that vague article.

There was an in-flight emergency. It was dealt with appropriately by the aircrew and they landed very shortly after their scheduled time.

The emotional cost of trying to keep your friends "informed" about what "might" have happened to their spouse or a spouse of one of their friends by sharing poorly written, speculative news articles on Facebook is too high, and it only makes you feel better. Not the person who will worry the most about their loved one.

I can honestly say I don't worry about my husband when he flies. I don't say that to sound like a self-righteous jerk, but it's true. He has done all he can do to be the best pilot he can be. But if something were to happen, I do not need to know about it until someone shows up at my door- the people I have designated, or at least expect, to inform me should this happen. This is my right. I deserve it. Do not take this away from me. Or anyone.

I can't drive this point home better than this story does. I read it shortly after it was written a couple years ago and a friend just re-posted it this week after this most recent (unnecessary) scare in our community. Please read it and take it to heart.

http://keepcalmandhaveacosmo.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/racing-facebook-new-challenge-for.html

If something happens to my husband and I find out on Facebook, I will certainly not be giving you a badge for being the one who informed me of the news first. I will be emotionally exhausted from probably worrying & being in denial for hours before that knock at my door. And then I would be mourning for a very long time. And if absolutely nothing happened to my husband but I knew he was the one flying over the English Channel that night, I would be distraught for no reason. So save me the extra hours of pain and save your energy and don't share that article with me. Don't share it with anyone. Respect each other.

Anne Frank House

2015-04-13T23:17:00.002+01:00

After searching for tickets a couple weeks before our trip and finding that there were 'No tickets available' to the Anne Frank House for the rest of April, but also after learning that more tickets regularly become available for the 'day of' or next couple days, I knew I might eventually find myself in a situation where I was frantically and/or obsessively reloading the ticket page to find tickets.

Yes, that day came when we were on the ferry from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. The wifi was just existent enough for me to see that more tickets became available for that day and the next 2 days, but so unbelievably slow that I was never able to purchase tickets. After 7 hours of trying, I almost gave up on the idea of getting them at all and decided I would just have to come back to Amsterdam.

It was really important to me to see this historical location.

2 days later, I was able to purchase 2 tickets for that evening from my phone while we were walking around Amsterdam. I was so relieved. I don't know....how can you enjoy all of Amsterdam without stopping to honor the horrific experience and incredible spirit of Anne Frank?

During what felt like a solid day of agony trying to get the tickets, I sort of stopped to think why this was so important to me. Memories of my childhood came flooding back.....to when I learned about Anne Frank, and built a model house with all the furniture for school. I don't know what grade it was; so many of the unimportant details are fuzzy. But some of the emotions I felt learning about her incredible experience definitely stuck with me. I have to say as an adult who has witnessed even more evil in the world since, her experience was no less tragic to think about or relive as I walked through the house. To be walking through the secret annex where they hid from evil for so many years was just so powerful.

My heart sank. Some tears fell. This was one of the quotes in the first room we walked through.

"The time will come when we'll be people again....."

Incredible. Incredible that the Jews were in the situation that they were; that she recognized the injustice at her age, and that she believed in a better way of life & was brave enough to write about it. Writing can be so powerful, for the reader and, I would argue, even more so for the writer. As I went through the museum and learned about the role that writing played in her life, I could really relate.

Her father, after reading her diary (after her death)-
"....and my conclusion is, as I had been in very very good terms with Anna, is that most parents don't know really, their children."

My heart broke for Anne and her father when I heard this. You can spill on to paper what you just can't put into words for even those closest people in your life. I know this.

During the darkest times, she shared her deepest and darkest feelings in her diary, that she planned on eventually turning into a book. Writing kept her from going crazy, when all she wanted to do was sing and dance and enjoy the outdoors.

The tulips are beautiful. The canals are gorgeous. The cheese is delicious. The trip was amazing. But Anne Frank really kept things in perspective.

Sometimes I feel like I'm participating in one big 3-year travel competition while living here. It's easy to start feeling like you "aren't doing enough" compared to others, because everyone's travels are always in your face, quite frankly. While we love to travel and would like to see as much as possible, I try to always be mindful of how fortunate we are to get to do the things we do and see the places we see. There will always be more. 'More' is not a good measuring stick.

Going through the Anne Frank House is just one of those experiences that makes you truly appreciate freedom & all of the joy we get to experience every day, no matter where we live or how much or little we travel. Just getting tickets for the experience made me feel more at ease for the rest of the trip and made me stop worrying about what we were going to see and do, because what could be more significant? I felt so fortunate just to be there.

Anne Frank, your spirit certainly lives on. You are amazing!

Altnernative modes of transportation

2015-01-08T21:47:00.000+00:00

My cousin Jen sent this to me with perfect timing today. I thought I would post it as a follow-up to my broken car night catastrophe post.

My car is still pretty much broke. For all intents and purposes.

You know, that doesn't sound that bad. First world problem, correct? It doesn't explain me drowning myself in wine.

The thing is....the broken car was just the icing.

On the shit cake.

But this icing/breakdown...it has forced me to find alternate modes of...dealing with things. It has forced me to be vulnerable with pretty new but amazing friends. People who could think I'm crazy but have been nothing but kind and generous. It has forced me to lean on people when I've always thought I could get through everything on my own. It has forced me to ask for help.....*gasp*

It has forced me to take a leap of faith and believe a little.

A Raw Post by a Military Spouse Expat

2015-01-05T22:53:00.000+00:00

I cried on and off for several hours tonight.

Everything came to a boiling point today when my beater of a car finally said "Times up, SUCKER. I'm out. Deal with your issues." Or at least that is what has come of the situation. Husband gone/deployed/whatever/not here and complicated car issues. Apparently that was enough to just set me off. I've been stressed about all kinds of things, and frankly, a little bit lonely. And then the seventh thing went wrong with my car and that was it. It is not drivable. I'm just overwhelmed. Just one of those times when it feels like things are crumbling. And now it's me with my tears and a bottle or two of wine. Because this shit always just happens at the perfect time. I hate, hate asking for help or realizing I can't get through everything on my own.

Don't worry. What my body is losing in tears, it's gaining in wine. This has to be a start to recovery.

But really, tears are powerful. When you sob and let it all go, you just start to feel better and think more clearly. I let Teddy lick all the tears away, and then I went outside with (my awesome) pups and played with them for a while. Happy, happy, tail-wagging pups. And I'm sure that helped. And don't get me wrong, I have some amazing friends who have let me vent, vent, vent and it has helped tremendously.

But when you hit a low, you are forced to practice gratitude. Like you should do anyway. Maybe my car is just trying to get me back on track and make me remember what really matters. Not cars.

Over the last few days, I packed up all of the Christmas decorations. But why pack these cards up?!?! They always sit out for a while and then I don't know what I do with them....display the photo cards and shove the other ones in a box. Tonight I looked at them and smiled. Well, they are all being hung up for a while. Just as a lil' reminder that people are thinking of us even if I don't always feel it. I'm not alone. I need to reach out to people who care and tell them what is going on, not put up walls. That is my fault. I'm imperfect and/but I'm enough. I'm enough to reach out and ask for help and to be imperfect. These people think I'm enough.

That is the raw me. The raw version of me living far away from so many loved ones, doubting my worthiness and trying all the time to be a better wife, daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, friend. Thank you to those who have stood by me and supported me. And thank you, Brene. I am halfway done with The Gifts of Imperfection and it is like my bible. You are brilliant. This is my pledge.

The Many Faces of 26.2

2014-11-05T14:38:00.002+00:00

It's been just over a week since I completed the 2014 Dublin Marathon. That day, I thought to myself 'I have so much to write about...' And then as each day passed, I felt all the thoughts, emotions and lessons that would make a great race report and blog post start to fade. So I'm going to dig for all that and still try.

There are these people. And then there are these people. I am not sure if this post is for the people who have no idea why others train for long distances and may or may not care, the ones who think it's about bragging (like bitter 13.1 sticker man...sad, sad man), people who might be intrigued by how it can change you or for those people who know exactly what it's like. But I had a friend suggest I blog about this seemingly emotional event, so even if it's just for you and me, friend, I'm ok with that. I don't want to forget this one.

In the 6 marathons I've registered for, I don't think I had ever registered for one 10 months before the event. WHY would I do that?? I later wondered. We had just moved to the UK and I was eager to get back to marathon training after over a year and apparently really EAGER to make that official. A marathon in Dublin? Nothing about that sounded like it could be bad.

And then my 10-month struggle to adjust to running on the local terrain began. Some of you already know, or have at least tried to understand my whining, about why I kind of stopped enjoying it. You don't really need to know the details....just that I hated it. I was the most out of shape I had been in....as long as I could remember, and I'm pretty sure my mindset was too negative from the beginning. Once I realized I did not have the perfect Kansas running conditions I was used to, I guess I decided it was my way or no way. This was going to suck.

I had ups and downs, periods when I felt motivated to get back on the training track before derailing again. Just hang on to whatever fitness I'd acquired so far, but not drastically improve my endurance and definitely not speed. And certainly not any kind of combination of the two.

I knew from all of my previous marathon training that this was not good. Up until this point, I had improved during every marathon. I had learned a lot training for each one, and then quite a bit during the race as well. In my opinion, for me personally, I had smoked the Marine Corps Marathon in October 2012. But I also knew how hard I had trained. And I was nowhere near that level this time. I told myself Just Do It, but it wasn't working. I basically just accepted my motivation problems but also felt bad. I was even letting my I Run 4 buddy, Kaden, down.

As the marathon approached, I was counting the days until it was over. That is no way to feel about a race that takes several hours. I was bummed I had to give up the BQ goal, and even more bummed I wasn't even sure about breaking 4 hours. For me personally, it felt like there was no reason to run another marathon unless I at least had the chance to improve my time. Shit happens on race day, but insufficient prep and training feels like failing. Hence, just wanting to get this whole experience over with.

But I'm also experienced enough as a runner (and maybe wise enough at 29) to realize that was not a good way to approach the whole thing. Things hadn't gone the way I wanted, but there were several things to focus on. I'm always thankful for my ability to run, and then to be able to travel to Ireland to participate in a marathon through a beautiful city? Heck yes. I even thought about walking it with a Camelbak of Guinness, but that really seemed like taking the easy way out.

The night before the race, I was lying in bed flipping through the program. I read through a section titled "20 Tips for the Road" by Conor O'Hagan. Number 19 read: Have a Plan B. There may come a point where you realize your target has slipped away from you....by having a secondary target - perhaps 30 minutes slower- you could keep the motivation you need to press on..."

I wasn't even sure what my target was at that point, so I knew I needed to be flexible no matter what I decided. Ultimately breaking 4 hours was still my goal, but when sharing my doubts with a friend before the race, he said "you'll at least break 4:30."

A little play-by-play:

Like an idiot, I started with the 3:50 pace group. I knew it was a stretch at the time, but looking back, it was actually....stupid. 4:00 would have been more reasonable, but now I know not to let the race day adrenaline get the best of me and override simple logic and numbers that make sense based on my training.

I started out at an 8:35 pace. Also not appropriate. I watched the 3:50 pacers run past me at I think mile 5 or 6. Plan B set in, because who was I kidding anyway?

Mentally, I was already telling myself to just keep a good pace through the half. Beat 2 hours and you're still a star!

False logic, really, if I wanted to be able to actually run the whole thing. Though I'm still not sure that if I had slowed down my pace then that I would have made it longer before walking/running. I knew what was missing in my training was time on my feet (running).

I pushed out the half in 1:59:34.

I broke down mentally. I texted during a race, for the first time ever. I told Dave I didn't know if I would finish....I never even thought that during my first marathon. My thoughts were toxic, but I was in pain and couldn't imagine running the rest or being on my feet for the time it would take to walk the rest. He sent me some love and I kept going.

At mile 15.17, I was walking. I was at a low, mostly mentally but obviously physically. A man ran up behind me, put his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said "let's go." It broke my little freaking running heart. I don't know why. Don't get me wrong, the crowd was loud and there was a lot of support in general. But I had walked by a lot of spectators and a lot of people had run by me...this guy noticed. I don't know if he picked me or if he picked all the walkers but I felt the strong support of a fellow runner. I realized he knew my pain and knew I could overcome it.

I realized the power of running with others. If only I had gotten a training buddy for this marathon...most people do. I just enjoy running alone. Until I'm totally unmotivated, and then maybe it's not so good. Duh.

I had to pee for several miles....that has never happened before (because I'm a sweat MACHINE) and threw me off as well. I waited 2 minutes for a port-a-john at mile 17 and after that decided it was time to get on with it. At 19 miles I saw my buddy again, walking. I realized it was him as I passed, turned and ran back to him and told him I remembered him. We exchanged some encouraging words.

I probably walked more than I needed to, but at that point I wasn't racing for a time, really. I was and I wasn't. I was doing a lot of thinking while I walked....a lot of reflecting about how this all made me feel.

I was not satisfied, but I was also not beating myself up. I realized I really, really missed the feeling I had during the Marine Corps Marathon. When I was in such good shape that I fully embraced all the pain, mentally and physically. I could push so hard during the race because I was prepared and I loved that. I almost passed out after because even though I had taken a lot of fuel during the race, I had obviously left everything I had out there. I thought a lot about how I missed running that hard and missed the good kind of pain.

I wasn't enjoying the unprepared kind of pain.

I'm convinced I would have kept hating running until I was disappointed in a race.

I guess I still need to figure out a way to enjoy training where I am, but I either figure that out or stop running marathons, and that is not what I want.

That is what I learned.

I was fighting tears for a couple hours afterward. I don't know why I was fighting them, they were good. I felt alive again.

When talking about the race with a friend a couple days later, and still comparing it to "my last marathon," he said "You were a different person then..."

How true is that? Are we ever the same people we were 2 years ago? Probably not. So I finished 32 minutes slower but learned a lot about my passions, how mentally tough (or not tough) I am, what I want to get out of my races, how to adjust goals and the value of fellow runners. I've always known the value of volunteers but I felt a new level of appreciation for them that day. Last time all I learned was that proper training pays off, and I already knew that ;-) And hey, at least I beat 4:30 according to my old running buddy's prediction. It's like he knows me.

I've had a 26.2 magnet for a few years now. It's on the side of my fridge & reminds me of the journeys I've taken to push my body's limits. It holds up my current training plans. I could put it on my car. It doesn't really matter. That's really all I have to say about the magnet. It's not about the magnets or the stickers.

We take on these challenges to become stronger & learn more about ourselves. I wish everyone knew & appreciated the joy in finding something so challenging, painful and wonderful that makes you grow, so if you don't have something in your life that does for you, find it. And don't ever give up, fellow runners.


Optimistic, happy, sad, in pain, happy (again!), determined, exhausted, proud. When is the next marathon?

London, Baby!

2014-10-07T00:20:00.000+01:00

So I always say 'London, Baby!' because of Joey on Friends. But apparently there is actually a site, the London Baby, for babies in London. While I'm here, providing my thoughts & info...there ya go.

After Ely, the place I've been to most in England/Europe is London. Why not actually start blogging about my experiences and start with the first place we visited when we moved here. Until I actually start a glamorous travel blog, I will catch up here. Travel week on the blog.

Ahhh, London. I think I'm in love. But can we just hook up on weekends? I like living in a small town.

I've now been 6 times and each time I got a little more comfortable. After the first trip, I knew not to hit a local commuter in the knee with your gigantic touristy suitcase when getting on the tube, even if it WAS an accident. *If looks could kill.* Hey, that's part of the deal when you're in a big city on the subway. So the next time, I was a little more calm, cool and collected. NBD.

Since then, I've mostly observed that your time on the tube can be quite entertaining and most people are pretty nice. By the third or fourth trip, I knew that the Piccadilly line was my favorite line to ride, for the location of the stops but ALSO to hear "this is a Piccadilly line to Cockfosters." With the accent. Even though I don't get it, I learned that "Gloucester" is actually pronounced "Glouster." I learned that at the expense of getting laughed at by the Ely train station ticket lady who couldn't figure out where I wanted to go until I finally spelled it. That is just an example of many words I don't know how to say. But with each trip, this huge city stopped feeling so huge. The tube is easy and there is SO much food to eat. And after 2 shows (Phantom of the Opera and The Commitments), I want to see them all.

Our second trip to London was about 5 months after we moved here, and even by then it sort of felt like home a little bit. You know me...I have many homes. But when I'm there, I kind of feel like I could be in any big city (except, of course, there is the unique AWESOMENESS of London). And that means I could be in the U.S. Or anywhere. Very international. But it felt less overwhelming than the first trip, and more like a camouflage blanket wrapped around me :) I didn't stand out as an American like in our little town of Ely. Don't get me wrong, plenty of love for Ely, but ya know sometimes just blending in without effort is nice, ha.

Some favorite attractions/areas:
Churchill War Rooms: How is it not cool to check out a wartime bunker and the areas where people worked while bombs hit London above?

Westminster Abbey: Did you know that Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Charles Dickens and C.S. Lewis are buried there? Among loads of other famous and/or cool people.

Hyde Park: So much peaceful space. So much space to run!

Favorite food:
The variety of food in London is amazing! There are plenty of traditional pubs EVERYWHERE in England so when I find myself in London I tend to want to get my hands on some other stuff. However, we have eaten at a few pubs there and this one was great!


Buckingham Arms

Tortilla: Dave and I found this place on Trafalgar Square during our first trip to London. We were sort of scoping out Chipotle but getting all turned around even Rick Steves was not helping. Yelp pointed us in the right direction on this one and we've gone back twice since. Seriously made me forget about Chipotle.

California-style burrito and a Sierra Nevada. Cowabunga?!

La Polenteria: Narrowed in on this one while searching for Gluten-free options with a friend. Like Polenta? Yum. All I gotta say.

Honest Burger: Not sure what to say except....maybe my favorite burger ever. At least top 3. And the rosemary salted chips. Couldn't stop, didn't stop.

Feast your eyes on that special.

Serpentine Bar & Kitchen: People can get a pizza or burger anywhere, okay? They come to Serpentine for the ambiance :) Beautiful spot to eat high quality food in Hyde Park.

So there is my quick wrap of my mouth-watering feelings on London. Love walking around, love the vibe. Here is a collection of my touristy London photos thus far. This love affair...TBC.

Can't forget Big Ben (fun fact: the tower is known as the Elizabeth Tower; Big Ben is the clock)

Happy Fourth of July!

2014-07-04T16:53:00.001+01:00

Was reminiscing about the last several Fourth of July holidays. Our tradition of running & shooting guns, fireworks with our friends in Florida and Teddy always hiding from the fireworks for a week straight. Fortunately last year, cousin Huck was there to protect him, and I'm sure he won't miss the noise for the next 3 years, haha. Happy Fourth of July to everyone back in the States and abroad! We'll be spending the evening at our friend's BBQ with Americans...and Brits :)

These people already wrote my book. Running the Edge.

2014-06-23T21:48:00.003+01:00

I love writing. And running is a huge part of who I am. So, I've naturally thought about writing a book about running. Because while I know that not everyone loves to run, deep down I believe that running can change most people. Including many people who believe or claim that "they can not run."

That statement frustrates me. It hits a nerve.

I want to tell everyone that they can run. Anyone can run. Ironically, I am part of a program where I am matched with someone who really can't run. At least at this point in his life. He has a medical condition that limits his ability to run. I have faith that he will eventually grow strong enough to run, but for now I run for him. Many people have limitations that don't allow them to run. But if you are overall physically healthy and have the ability to move your legs at whatever pace you want, you can run. The pain of running does not mean that you can't run.

Well, before I go too far, it turns out there is already a book out there that is basically what I would write, and more, if I were to write a book about running. It's called "Running the Edge" by Adam Goucher and Tim Catalano. I am only about 1/4 of the way through this book but I think I've almost highlighted every word or quote in my Kindle. I find myself constantly yelling "YES!" out loud as I read it. Needless to say, I think you should add it to your reading list ;-) Of course I'm yelling 'YES!' because I can relate. But also because I want more people to experience the joy.

Without copying and pasting every quote I've highlighted in the book so far, really it's about the journey that running takes you and your body on, and how it affects the other stories of your life. Adam and Tim break those other stories down into education, career, family, friendships, and passions.

Yes it hurts like hell when you first start. I would say that is true for most runners. I've been running since 6th or 7th grade (translation/conversion- for about 16 years now), but it hurt in an un-enjoyable way basically until I was in college. Maybe that means I'm not the most naturally gifted runner or I didn't know how to accept the pain and push myself through those years, but I eventually got to the point where I felt freedom. A release as I ran. I knew my body and it felt natural to push it. And ever since then, it's been getting better and better (of course, proper running form is important...I'm more than happy to help or answer any questions about that :). More enjoyable. Now, I can't imagine my life without it. And that is slightly terrifying. I don't take my health or legs for granted.

But it did take me years. And that is why I get so 'frustrated' when people say they can't run. You can. You can go through the pain like so many of us have. And you will experience euphoria if you just stick with it. That doesn't mean you want to, but that is a different issue. Do not say you can't. Running is as natural an activity as....walking. Except the challenge of it gives you so much more.

"...after your runs, as you count the new blisters on your feet, you feel as if you've been hit by a truck. The conventional wisdom that running is not fun seems truer than ever. "How can people do this for fun?" begs a painfully obvious answer. They can't! But if you continue to run and resist all common sense and logic to quit, one day, something magical happens. One day, while on a run, you notice that running does not hurt. Not only does it not hurt, but it feels natural and easy. Your legs feel powerful and strong. Your breath, heartbeat, and muscles have found a rhythm and harmony working together in perfect balance. You get a sense that this is what humans were meant to do, and you feel a connection to your primitive ancestors, as if you have discovered what you were always meant to be."

That is what this book is about. Oh I love it. That is exactly what I felt. About 5 years after I started running.

"Runners are not being chased: They are chasing. They are chasing faster times, longer distances, and a blissful peace of mind. They line up in the same place and pay money to chase finish lines anywhere between one and one hundred miles away. Runners are in constant pursuit of personal goals, trying to discover their maximum potential. Running is an active crusade of self improvement. As runners carve away layer after layer of the unnecessary and replace them with the essential, they know for certain that they are not running away from anything. They are chasing who they can become." - Running the Edge

This book is interactive and I've started my own workbook. It's about reflecting on your strengths and weaknesses and becoming a better you, through running, or your personal-interest life story.

You can run. And it will be awesome. I promise.

Rowing Regatta Rookies

2014-06-23T02:08:00.001+01:00

regatta

rɪˈgatə/

noun

noun: regatta; plural noun: regattas

a sporting event consisting of a series of boat or yacht races

(per Google)

I asked some of my teammates if they knew what "regatta" actually meant as we were standing around waiting to race at our first "regatta." Does it mean "race?" No one knew. We are so new.

Eventually we will know what we are doing, but for this regatta (held in St. Ives), me and my fellow "Learn to Row" teammates entered into an "Explore Rowing" event held at lunchtime. We gathered....it's basically intended to be lunchtime entertainment for the real rowers.

Our coach Teresa told us about 4 weeks ago that we had our first "race" on 21 June. We all laughed.....doesn't the course end 7 June? :) It was far enough away that I ignored the fact that I was still trying to stroke and not fall out of the boat at the same time.

So Saturday rolled around. Beautiful sunny day on the river. None of us has been in a quad. None of us had rowed together. Not once. But our names were drawn out of a hat to create 2 teams of 4, and we got in the boat when they called us up and we rowed. Regardless of what happened in the water, it was warm, sunny, fun and there was really good food and drink available. It was fun hanging out with each other outside of Saturday practice & observing the rowing community in action.

Our competition was clearly not as "new," being fairly coordinated and having matching uniforms (too legit). So, we did not win. But we rowed for 200 meters, together, and didn't capsize. We weren't THAT far behind, and they showed excellent sportsmanship as we crossed the finish line as they hooted and hollered at us.

Now that the class is over and we are all joining the club for the rest of the season, I'm looking forward to actually working on communication in the boat and coordinating strokes. It was obvious to most of us that was lacking going into the race, but we went with it and were good sports. The competitive edge will come. And more regattas! Now that I know what that means. It means rowing, fun, good people and maybe a beer and good sausage (not a Bratwurst...Bratwurst is German, Dave was told when he ordered for me).

Click to Enlarge. We're still super tiny.

Photo & food delivery credits: Dave!

Pure Michigan vs. Ely. There is room for both.

2014-06-01T18:59:00.002+01:00

We've been in England for 6 months now. It is our new home. Current home? I don't know. What does home mean? :)

Several weeks ago in the midst of Spring, while some Summer temps started creeping in, I was walking to the grocery store in the evening and got a whiff of burning wood....like a campfire....where?! Where is it coming from?! Waves of sadness and nostalgia for Pure Michigan came over me...I swear I almost shed a tear.

For the most part, there is just too much to enjoy here to worry about not being there. But you can't escape the feelings that a campfire brings to the surface :)

When I first wrote about our new home, we were definitely still the new Americans in town. We were sort of recognized at some of the places we frequented, but overall....I still felt like as much as I wanted to experience it, I just as badly wanted to get in and get out of places before I stood out too much. Before they knew!

But everyone is just so friendly here, that I started feeling more comfortable dropping the anxiety that my American accent gave me. When they realize you are an American (*gasp*), they just want to talk, hear your stories and welcome you. I have to say I love living in the country of our closest allies....where we have plenty of similarities and differences to discuss.

I decided to be more talkative and engage more in conversation when I was out and about. And what happened next was.....well, I turned into a Chatty Cathy.

One particularly epic day, I chatted with the owner of the local chocolate shop about her haircut. I went back later that day and bought some marzipan and chocolate so I wasn't just known as the girl who used her for haircut advice :) I chatted with the gentleman at Mountain Hardware.....just about the weather, but still. And I really chatted up the ladies at the new delicatessen in town about cheese recommendations and all of their tasty-looking products. It was so much more fun being socially normal :) The next day I talked to the kid working the checkout at Sainsbury's (my grocery store....that I'm in basically every day) about his studies at Cambridge & his Easter holiday. I had no shame in asking him to help me out when he started using educational terms foreign to me....help out the American, I don't know what you're talking about.

One day, I left my keys in the door...outside. They had been there a few hours before a nice lady knocked on the door and told me....I know, I'm lucky. But at the same time, I'm not surprised. We feel like we live in a very safe place. A couple weeks later, I was walking down the street back home and had the opportunity to inform someone about THEIR keys in the door.

This all probably sounds silly and miniscule. But, as each day and each week passed, I felt more and more at home.

By the time we were showing all of our visitors our favorite places to eat and drink in town in May, it felt so nice that we were known and greeted with such a friendly welcome everywhere we went. I've never felt such a strong sense of community anywhere I've lived (ok except maybe specifically on Zachary Dr. in Kansas:). I'm already sad for when we leave.

A little over a week ago, we were at Peacock's (the local "famous" tearoom across the street) with Dave's Mom and Step dad. As our normal server, who is from France, was inquiring about where they are from in the states, we learned that he really wants to visit Detroit. Yes, you read correctly. A guy from France who lives in the UK really wants to visit Detroit. He is into photography, and has an interest in capturing the state of a place that is desperately holding onto its roots and trying to recover. He is interested in capturing the beauty of the Motor City. It's A Small World started playing in my head. I was very fascinated with his fascination and found it refreshing that he saw more than what the media portrays. It made me wonder what people over here see/hear about Detroit, and what made him seek out the deeper story. More to talk about next time. I have nothing but fond memories of visiting Detroit as a child, adolescent and adult...Tigers games, Red Wings games (um, also, Stanley Cup parades), Greektown, shows at the Fox Theater, the 4th of July fireworks, SEVERAL auto shows with my family...but can't say I always have the patience or willpower to defend it against people who only see one side of things: its current state, without looking at any of the history about why it was so important to the U.S. and what went wrong. It inspired me to watch the Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown Detroit episode again.

So, here is my opportunity to tell you that the full episode is on Netflix and you should watch it, without shoving it in your face. It doesn't go into the corruption of leadership over the years, but that is nicely summarized in plenty of articles on the web.

Here is a preview.

So, 2 of my many worlds collided that day. I have several experiences and travels to write about since we've been here, but I guess I first had to mention the French guy who wants to visit Detroit.

This week, I also have my last 2 of 10 sessions for my Learn to Row course with the Isle of Ely Rowing Club. It has been an awesome experience learning the sport, getting to know the locals who run the club and meeting other new rowers. I can't wait to join the club and look forward to Saturdays on the water. Fun fact: The first recorded races at the University of Cambridge were in 1827. The Detroit Boat Club was founded in 1839 and is the oldest continuously-operated rowing club in the U.S. Just a little something I learned while reading about the history of rowing.

One of the many beautiful Saturdays I've had for rowing on the River Great Ouse

Last week, I realized that I now have little fear of the roads and the roundabouts. I decided at that point that it's official. I'm totally integrated. Home is on the left side of the road for now.

However, my mate who is from England just recently corrected me.....it's Beans ON Toast, not Beans and Toast. What is beans on toast, you ask? It's a British thing (or English thing?), and it's amazing, and it's exactly what it sounds like....I make sure to include mature British cheddar. Wikipedia tells me it is also a British folk singer who sings about sex, drugs and politics. I still have so much to learn, but I'm proud to add Ely to my list of homes.

It doesn't look like much....I know. Trust.

You have to use these beans.

I Have to Get Lost

2014-04-11T12:48:00.001+01:00

I thought about the days I had handed over to a bottle... the nights I can't remember... the mornings I slept thru... all the time spent running from myself.

– Mitch Albom (For One More Day)

Saw this post/caption on my FB feed early this morning. I follow a lot of running-related FB pages so they are always in my face. Sometimes they inspire me, sometimes I disagree with them...but they always make me think.

When I'm out running, I like to get lost.

Not geographically, but in my own thoughts. I do like the feeling of running, because it makes me love the feeling of living.

I have struggled with my running a little since we've gotten to the UK.

If I take the 15 mile cracked-up, uneven bike trail toward Cambridge (which in theory sounds like the perfect way to get miles in along the river) and all I'm focused on is not rolling my ankle and how much my knee will hurt later, I can't get lost.

If I'm running through the small, quaint streets of Ely and constantly trying not to get hit by a car at every driveway and hidden turn, and I'm just focusing on survival, I can't get lost.

How do people run here? They don't even have a track to fall back on...makes me realize how fortunate I was growing up where I did in the states with a track available to use at the middle school, the high school, multiple at U of M and every city I lived in after.

I'm not complaining. There are just unique challenges here. The man at the butcher shop understands. We somehow got on the topic of running the first time I went in a couple weeks ago. He lives in a village/town about 7 miles away and runs on the roads there; he acknowledged its difficult to run here. Thank you! I was thinking "ahhh, country roads. I miss those Kansas country roads..." He remembered me when I went back in yesterday and asked me how my running is going. I told him about the same.....struggling to get in the groove. I have explored a few new places but not found the openness I need. And then I asked him if running on the roads is common here, or the norm (novel idea-ask a local). It's not that I hadn't thought about going outside of Ely and hopping on the road, but I guess I just wasn't sure "how things work here." He reassured me that it was, so I guess it's time to buy a bright orange reflective running suit and try it out :) I think part of my hesitation is that there is usually not a ginormous shoulder next to the roads here....just nothing or, even better, a deep ditch. So back home I was usually ok with risking an occasional clueless driver because I could just dive, but now.....

Numerous people have pointed out there is a running club, which I knew about quite a while ago because I'm always curious about what kind of running community there is in a city or town.
I thought about joining, but considering that I love to run alone for the most part, I haven't checked it out yet. Wasn't sure about showing up, using them for their information/running routes and then never showing up again. I guess since the butcher understands my runner problems, there is always him, ha! We ran into one of Dave's friends last weekend at a market in another town and he was also commiserating with my trouble getting into the groove...the groove is critical to the run.

The scenery here is beautiful. The butcher (really, I should ask him his name before its months down the road and I'm still calling him 'the butcher') told me about another area along the river yesterday that I am going to explore tomorrow. Not super close, but it sounds like a scenic area where I can log some good miles.

When I run, I think about life. I listen to my heart. Heart rate, but also what its saying. I have ups and downs physically and mentally and I push through boundaries. I clear my head.

It can't be about cars. Or rolling my ankle. Or running into people. So yes, I'm kind of particular about my running.

In Kansas, I was able to throw on my shoes, run out the door and disappear into the countryside within minutes. Of course those roads got kind of old after 4.5 years, which is why it's fun to move :) I miss them, but I will find my roads here.

My shoes are waiting for me to get my groove back. They are waiting for me to get lost.

Military (dog) Brats

2014-03-23T19:47:00.000+00:00

Every time we move, we get to experience so many new things. There is stress that comes with moving, but we know what is going on, of course. We can choose to focus on the positive things, plan a trip to an exciting place. Run to relieve stress. The dogs get all sorts of new experiences as well, but unfortunately, I don't think they have the same appreciation for world travel. They want routine, stability, food, water, treats, a wide open field to run, a ball, and maybe a body of water to fetch sticks. Well, from what I've observed, that is all my dogs need to be happy and content. Ellie will take some beautiful snow-covered mountains if she can get them, but they are not critical to her happiness. They rely on us to make adjustments and the fine tuning to make their new life seem normal.

22 March 2014. Teddy running free along the River Great Ouse :)

The following is somewhat of a play-by-play of my life with the dogs. But as I take on the challenge of training myself and rehabilitating my dogs (have to agree with Cesar on that one), maybe some of the insight into my own challenges and lessons will be useful to some of my fellow dog owners. Notice nowhere in that sentence did I use the word advice.....I'm in no position to call it that.

About a month ago in the midst of feeling frustrated that the dogs seemed uneasy and we were not in any kind of a routine, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I am not happy or content when I don't exercise, so why do I think the dogs would be? I KNOW they need it, and I always try to get them exercise. But what I had to accept was that if they are uneasy because they haven't gotten their exercise for the day, I can't be too frustrated or shocked that we aren't making huge strides with everything else related to their behavior.

At least exercise is one stress-reliever we have in common.

Taking a step back and looking at the situation, I acknowledged a few things that I had not in the midst of my own stress during the first couple months being here. The dogs are not only simply in a new environment in England, it is one that requires them to make adjustments to the lifestyle they are used to. Their immediate surroundings at home are louder; there is more foot traffic in front of and behind the house. When people are talking while they walk in front of our house, it kind of sounds like they might be IN the house sometimes. This is way closer to city life than Derby, Kansas.

In the states, we focused on walking them on a leash in neighborhoods or around town (for the most part) and letting them run free at fenced-in dog parks. Here, they need to learn to run free in open areas without fences next to walking paths.....sort of like, open dog park meets city. So basically, run free without running in front of and tripping old people. This was kind of a stressful thing for me to face when we got here....because to them running is running, but I don't want to get sued.

Fortunately, they do have experience with running off leash on trails and footpaths in uncrowded areas...which is more common here. And the most ideal. So they and their humans are comfortable with this situation :)

Teddy has particularly struggled with walking around the area where we live with people everywhere (on weekends mostly, but at some times during the week), loud trains every 15 minutes (it doesn't help that it seems every time we are walking under the track one goes over us...). It just isn't the quiet environment he had grown used to in Georgia and Kansas. I've learned that when he is in wide open spaces here, he is ok with strangers and whatever. But when he can't see & when we're approaching tight corners/turns, he is very uneasy. This is very relevant to how I have to approach everything with him. He is very sensitive.

This was the first step...taming my expectations of a flawless transition.

A few weeks ago I bought a journal to document our training- our goals, struggles and successes- as a way to capture the process of acclimating the dogs to England and facing this challenge head-on, hence some of the dates and observations below. I'm also doing a lot more reading and studying dog behavior.

On a rainy 12 Feb while we were hanging out inside most of the day, I decided it was time to start channeling my energy and frustration with the dogs in more positive ways. We worked on some agility training with a kitchen table chair. Just over and under. I saw Teddy's tail wag more than it had in quite a while, and by the end Ellie was like "ok these tricks are too easy," but they both had fun. It made me happy. Once I made the decision to have a positive, fun, stress-free session with them, it just happened.

Around that time, I also decided that as I'm working on their behavior and training, I will focus on the areas they excel in now, even if this means we take a step back from the level I believe they once were.

I noticed Ellie was doing well at the park in the open field. I was taking them there a lot to play with the Chuck it. She listens to "come" if I decide I need to stop her from sprinting toward a new person in the area. Teddy does a little better running/jogging on leash; not as good as he used to but as long as we're not in a busy area with "scary" noises, running on leash is a good way to get him some of the exercise he needs while working on old commands. With a lot of people around, he hasn't been following commands very well (I think because of his anxiety, some fear and some insecurity) so we need to get back to the basics with a little less distraction.

28 Feb- This was not a dog day. It was rainy and I got into a cleaning and organizing mode. I got a lot done just focusing on that, instead of worrying about accomplishing a bunch of different things. Too often I make a list of 20 things for 1 day and don't get much done, feeling overwhelmed. What does this have to do with dogs? Well, sometimes I put them before EVERYTHING else because I figure if I tire them out first I can focus on other stuff. While this is generally true, sometimes I have more patience with them and enjoy our time together more if I accomplish things for myself first. Dog/life balance?? I'm *sure* they understand.

I'm always more motivated to wake up early on the weekend....don't know why, exactly. I guess I like to get stuff done and still have the day ahead with Dave. Yesterday I decided to have some one on one time with Teddy. The thought of this was even kind of exciting for me. Generally, it kind of stresses me out a bit because I know Ellie is going to flip out the entire time we're gearing up to leave, thinking she is going and then pouting when we leave. It sort of hit me today though....she needs to learn to take a back seat and I don't need to feel guilty all the time. I am always trying to give them equal attention and amounts of exercise, but when it comes down to it, she needs more to stay sane and so if there are times I have to "pick" who gets to go, it is generally her. I am not sure if Teddy "notices" this or not, and if it has fed his insecurities too.

Teddy looked like he didn't know what to do with his excitement when we got out on the footpath by the river and I let him off the leash. I know he loves running around with Ellie, but I think he may have had some flashbacks to when it was just me and him :-) We walked, Teddy played with other dogs and decided to jump in the river to go for a stick (thrown in for some black labs that were out...I wasn't exactly planning on getting him in the river but he did his thing...), and I socialized with the parents of his dog friends. Overall, he did so great with the humans and the pups. We still had some anxious whining at some points, and he was very nervous around/barking at a poor old man walking down the path on our way back to the house as I was stopped talking to a sweet old lady (this is also a common problem with him....men...men in hats? Hats and men??), but I think he is getting a little more comfortable out there. Slowly but surely. I looked forward to taking him out and having a great time instead of dreading it and being stressed about what would happen....and it's almost as if he knew. It felt like some solid proof that dogs pick up your energy.

Turns out, Ellie was letting out blood-curdling screams/barks from her crate when we left....according to Dave (who WAS still sleeping). Well, that's great Ellie. Tell me more about how rough your life is :) So, I kind of knew that might happen but it's ok. It isn't exactly like she is deprived of attention.

I know I didn't go into detail about training, but the details of all that can be found in books, on websites or from professional trainers. Perhaps once I have mastered some of them, I will elaborate :) There are different philosophies and methods for how to approach things, and I am blending some of what I already knew with new knowledge and trying to teach my *old* dogs some new tricks. However, my point in all this is that the key ingredient in the process is the attitude I bring to the situation. It's amazing how easy it is to forget this when things aren't going how you want. With dog training, with anything.

I always took pride in working with the dogs and training them, and so I see their struggles and failures as a reflection of my failure to assess their behavior and act accordingly. I want to look back on this phase of our lives and be able to say that we turned them into happy British dog citizens, not that they were miserable and we felt miserable for them.

The thing is....I love dogs (duh). But I never realized that they would challenge me in ways that would make me grow. It's neat.

Cheerio!

Ellie in the snow last year. I wonder if this is what she is doing in her dreams? :)

"What do you do?" Terrible question.

2014-03-19T23:17:00.001+00:00

I LOVE having the freedom to go to the pub and enjoy a few pints with my husband on any given day of the week, if he isn't flying his huge flying gas station. We may or may not have done that tonight. If you don't enjoy, or miss, the same freedom to spend quality time doing whatever you want with your significant other, whether you have kids or not, sorry, but I think you're missing out on something wonderful.

Big judgement, I know. But that is my opinion.

Also, this:

Quick side note. I love them.

I feel so fortunate to chi-lax (I ain't too old to use slang!) with my husband in the middle of the week and talk about worldly events and the things that are important to us.

Ok, so of course as we get older, the idea of children and what kind of weirdos our reproductive mixes might turn out to be becomes a greater percentage of the conversation.....but I undoubtedly will miss our nights out. With no restrictions.

Early last year, I wrote a post about my life as a SAHW (yup, that's wife...not mom), inspired by Lyz Lenz's post "The Life of a Mostly SAHM." (I didn't link it again because, well, I don't want to creep her out...Google it if you wish). Actually, I've written a few posts analyzing my outlook on (my) life, and to be quite honest, I kind of cringe when I re-read them.

Not because I am ashamed or embarrassed, but just because I sort of don't like that it seems that I felt I needed to justify where I was at in life. To myself? To others? Both?

Of course, when you essentially use your blog in place of a psychologist, I guess your true feelings end up having a time stamp on them. I see now that, at the time, I didn't feel as stable in dealing with the uncertainty my life choices have dealt me.

But really, all this isn't about me. It's about this video (I know, that sounds like Buzzfeed always claiming 'THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT' on everything they post :) Alain de Botton: A kinder, gentler philosophy of success. No, the point of the talk is not that everyone should get a trophy. It's about defining your own success.

Oh, 1:57. It really is everyone's favorite question. "What do you do?" It's true. In fact, an old lady on the train asked me that question today. It used to bother me soooo much. But over the last year, I've truly been able to stop caring about the fact that I can't say "student" or "I'm in the Air Force" anymore. I don't have a cut and dry answer anymore, but honestly, what's it to them? I really think some people just don't know what else to ask, and that's fine. I usually just say "nothing" now. That must be so interesting for them to think about. But..."YOU DON'T KNOW ME" ;-) Seriously, though. Try just asking me.....what I'm interested in. Or something useful. Try asking anyone that, instead of...."what do you DO?" Or is it "What do YOU do?" Either way.

I spend a lot of my time brainstorming about how to take my interests and goals and turn them into what I believe I'm meant to be doing in this world, within the context of my life now. I know there is no time like the present, but I'm trying. I think that might sound selfish to a lot of people. I don't think it is and that is why I stopped caring.

If I'm honest, again, I think a lot of people either A) judge me for not working OR having kids and/or B) think my life is all sunshine and rainbows....like one of those rich wives who lives at the spa.

I have no idea if people are ACTUALLY thinking that about me. But I think that notion is a result of society and what Alain is describing.

Of course it's only natural to forget that I don't care sometimes. When people are intrusive and judgmental. But that is them, not me. They may or may not be trying to define who I am with a few quick pieces of information, but it doesn't matter. Growing up, whenever I had problems dealing with other people or issues I couldn't control, my Dad always reminded me that the only thing I can control is me. I'm 29 and finally get it.

I feel fortunate that I've lived until 29, and have done a few things I'm proud of. I hope to keep that "success" going.

Of course, I must give credit to my fellow writers who unknowingly act as my psychologists, and help me to remember that....

...the grass is always greener.....on the other side:
http://joannarenteria.com/2011/12/13/i-was-considering-grad-school-and-then-i-saw-this-hilarious/
so funny :)

and

...a lot of people judge. we all judge. we shouldn't. and some people will always have an opinion about what you should be doing instead of caring about what makes you happy. but maybe one day we'll all get there:

http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/21/friendly-fire/

and

...oh, again, some women just love to judge. I do like this piece as a husband who feels inclined to defend the hard-working mother of his children to other women being....rude, frankly. On the other hand, I also appreciate the commenter(s) who points out that many women simply "don't know" what stay at home moms do all day, so their questions are somewhat justified. I don't know....it's always good to see the other side, but I have had a full time crazy job and don't have kids myself, and my observations of motherhood lead me to believe it's kind of like prison. So to ask a mom what she does all day is sort of just....naive.
http://themattwalshblog.com/2013/10/09/youre-a-stay-at-home-mom-what-do-you-do-all-day/

and

...it's ok to just be happy.
http://www.sarahannnoel.com/2013/06/letting-go.html

Carry on. Be happy. Define your own success.

A New Year, A New Town

2014-01-31T22:29:00.000+00:00

We like to get dogs in January; we like to move in January. Not really, I'd like to stay put for a while :) But last 3 Jan, we were headed out west to Spokane thinking that might be our next home. This 3 Jan, we were signing our lease for our home here in Ely, Cambridgeshire, UNITED KINGDOM. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we live in England, I guess. And that this cathedral that was built 1,000 years ago is in my backyard.

Ely Cathedral

Inside the Cathedral

I love getting to a new place and exploring. I love trying new food. Yup I was even excited to try all of the "terrible food in England." NOT. I discovered Chicken Tikka while we were still living on base and that blew me away. Every time I see Chicken Tikka on a menu now, I have a hard time looking at anything else. When we got to Ely and didn't have our household goods yet, we used that as a "good" excuse to try as many pubs and restaurants as possible, I guess. Kabobs, a burger with goat cheese (I really think we ought to just slap a slab of goat cheese on our burgers in the U.S.), wild mushroom risotto, curry, chips, chips, chips & more chips! I'm a sucker specifically for the chips at one of the several pubs within a 5 min walk from us. And pints. I've had some good beers at several of the pubs, but one of my favorite places is a place called the Liberty Belle (also a 5 min walk...awesome/no good) that always has 5-6 microbrews on tap, all Ales. Well, I'm a sucker for Ales so they got me. They also do boat tours on the river in the summer. Sunday Roasts are also a tradition here; you can get a roast at most (or many) pubs every Sunday. We enjoyed our first Sunday Roast last weekend at the Royal Standard (the place with the crack chips).

The Sunday Roast. Does this look bad to you?

Chicken Tikka! Boom.

p.s. that chicken tikka came with basmati rice, chips, naan (a type of flat bread) and a poppadom (see Wikipedia for that one). Who needs that many carbs?! :) But YUM. I ate them all.

Now that we have our stuff I've started cooking more so we don't balloon up. Amazing, soon after sleeping well and eating better I felt like I had energy to run again. It's all so crazy how the body works :) But it is unbelievable to be able to walk everywhere....the bank, the post office (Royal Mail! Didn't think I would use this much but have already had to go a couple times), several grocery stores, the Thursday/Sunday market, the Ely Cathedral, the river, the dog parks, shopping...pubs. I only need my car to go to base. I'll come back to that.

Since cooking at home, I've discovered that grilled cheese and sloppy joes, both of which I consider to be American foods, are amazing with British cheddar. See what we can accomplish with our allies? ;-)

There are some things you just have to embrace when you get to a new place. Because you aren't new for long. Like, I wish I had a video of myself walking through town looking lost and trying to read every store sign to figure out what store/restaurant it is, then trying to decide if I should go in or just keep it in mind for later. This thought process is all going on while I'm about to walk directly into a sign or a pole or a person. Because of course I'm looking left and right and up and every way except in front of me. Then there is the night I decided I should figure out how to get to the train station before we left for London a couple days later. It was about 5:30 and already dark, but I knew the general direction so just started walking. I noticed a bunch of commuters walking toward me (you can just tell which people got off the train after a day of work or school). So I decided to follow where they were walking from and wa-la! There was the train station. So I went inside and bought my discount card/pass, and as I was about to leave I SWEAR I saw Prince Harry. I swear. It couldn't have been him but WOW. The spot in this picture is on the short walk from our place to the train station:

A walk down the river. Ellie wants that swan.

I know. That was a random photo of my cute dog by the river.

During my first couple of trips to the different grocery stores, I was always asked if I "needed bags" by the cashier. Uumm, am I a dirt bag if I say yes??? So, they are big on their reusable bags here (and you also bag your own groceries. I honestly think this is sort of a good idea. I always feel awkward standing there while the cashier rings everything up and the baggers bag...I need a job!). So, on one of my next trips I decided to bring my reusable bags. The only ones I had were from Trader Joe's and Dillon's. Yes, a reusable bag is a reusable bag but as I walked home with my overflowing Trader Joe's bag and a new British spec toaster oven, I wondered if I screamed "newbie." :)

Now we have all of our stuff and we're getting settled. But of course there were the moments of frustration when you are still trying to figure everything out and don't have the Internet at your fingertips. Example- I realized I was getting calls but had no clue how to access my voicemail. Seems like no big deal now, but it just felt like another little tiny way I was cut off when I was trying to figure out a million things and be home for deliveries of appliances, etc. Going without most of your stuff definitely makes you realize what is a necessity vs. a luxury, and that is actually really nice. But wow...the Internet. That hurt a bit. Free WI-fi isn't a thing here. I found it at the local library, so now I'm a library member which was another small step to feeling like I belong :) Before that, I did get really used to taking screenshots of websites with information I needed for later. Gotta get creative.

I also consistently battled with two feelings for a couple weeks....there was a part of me that wanted to just get out and explore, and another that felt so hesitant. I never really figured out why I was hesitant, being that I was so excited to be here, but now I'm in the comfort zone of living in Ely so it has passed. I guess anxiety of the unknown can be sort of powerful.

Oh, there is the day I really wanted some rubbing alcohol to clean a cut. Yeah, they don't have that here. I could have gotten some huge bottle of antiseptic...but I just wanted some rubbing alcohol. Such a simple thing, right? Dave got some on base that day.

I will say, to this day, having access to base is pretty amazing. We didn't want to live on base because there are so many other cool places to live and we wanted to experience England. But when I do find myself on base about once a week, I feel....comfort. It's where you can get a lot of things you can't find locally (Jen in Germany-don't hate;-). It's fun trying local products, but it's nice knowing you can get some rubbing alcohol if you need because everything else is new and different and you just want what you know.

Of course at the end of the day for most of January, there was the comfort of sitting on the floor of the empty living room with the dogs and drinking wine with Dave out of red Solo cups. That's kind of how we ended our time in Kansas.

The dogs are settling in just fine.

We love it in Ely and have made some great friends. And we had a great time in London, our first trip! TBC. But here is a fun one.

Adoption Month

2014-01-29T13:25:00.000+00:00

January is adoption month in our family. We took a chance and got Teddy in January 2008 and Ellie in January 2012. If I wasn't logical, I'd probably get one every January :) Any chance I get for sharing these pictures again....well, I will. Their little adoption anniversaries.

Cutie #1

Cutie #2

If you've met Ellie, you might think she is crazy. Or maybe you have seen the snuggly side. Or maybe you think she looks sweet in pictures. Or maybe you don't (seriously though, look above). Well, she is a very sweet dog.

Sometimes, a sweet little pain in the ass. But what sometimes is a pain is also what makes her fun.

Like Teddy, she is a rescue dog, so we aren't sure exactly how old she is. But she is at least 2 because we got her 2 years ago last Sunday :)

She was about 6-8 weeks when we got her.

She is so adventurous and playful. Sometimes I can't believe she is still so puppy-ish. Well, anyway. Let me skip to the point of today's story.

We have this gate out back that has like a million places to secure it shut. Ok I exaggerate. Dog owners probably know where I am going with this already. But in the cold, damp air (and especially in the dark, if I'm dealing with it at night), I get a little lazy. And the slide latch things are difficult to slide all the way in. The other day I was upstairs and looked down into the yard, and it was wide open. The dogs were outside. I knew Teddy was still there because he was whining at the door (per usual). I sprinted down the stairs and to the back door as fast as possible and by then, Ellie was just standing near the door looking around, staring at birds. Phew! Right?

The Gate

Today is a similar story, except I had been upstairs for a while and Ellie was outside. I went into our bedroom and looked down and didn't see her. I walked downstairs and didn't see her from the massive french doors and sliding glass doors in the living room. I walked around to the 3rd door where I let them in and out and could not see her anywhere. I looked at the gate. It was closed, but looked unlatched. The worst possible case; she is out, and couldn't get back in if she wanted. Panic.

I am in my slippers and white robe. I sprint outside, dash through the wet rocks and mud, open the gate and start yelling "Ellie, come!" as loud as I can down the alley. I felt fairly confident that if she was anywhere near, she would come. But I feared she had wandered off to the river or something. 3rd time's a charm....my little Ellie came trotting down the alley toward me with her puppy trot and white socks. Felt like the biggest relief of my life in that moment. She didn't even have her collar on; I have gotten pretty (too?) comfortable leaving those off the dogs unless we are going somewhere. Her heart was pounding so hard. I am not sure if it was because she was scared, or if she thought I was mad, or both. I felt so bad. She looked so innocent.

Teddy never walked out of an open gate (found it open in Kansas a couple times). Ellie got out once in Washington, but I didn't panic quite as much because we were on base. She ended up right next door :) They are different dogs, though. Teddy doesn't know what to do without his humans. She figures she will give it a try. See what's down the alley.

But here she is while I'm blogging.

Now she is keeping my feet warm. See? Sweet :)

From time to time, especially when we were moving over here to England, Dave and I will complain about what a pain they are and we joke about getting rid of them, or just one. Whoever we are frustrated with in that moment. But on days like today those seem like awful jokes! In the bottom of my heart there was never any doubt they were coming with us. They do bring so much joy to our lives and are such great company when everything else seems uncertain.

So I don't know. I guess the point is...dogs are awesome. I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST LOST MINE. Go hug yours :-p

Oh and I'm going to share this video a friend posted this morning for a little extra plug for rescue animals (although I will admit, it wasn't until they got to the dog part that I think I actually got a tear in my eye :) Click here if it doesn't display below.

CHANCE!

Home for the Holidays

2013-12-23T21:23:00.002+00:00

It is hard to believe that Christmas is 2 days away, and that on Christmas Day, we will have been here in England for exactly 4 weeks.

Getting here the day before Thanksgiving and on the brink of the holiday season was strange. I won't say sad, because I was too overwhelmed with other emotions for sadness. Mostly, I was excited for the ride.

Before even arriving in the U.K., we had two invitations to Thanksgiving meals. New country, two invitations for Thanksgiving. In a country that doesn't even celebrate Thanksgiving. Following the relief of arriving safely with the dogs and in the midst of exhaustion, we were using screenshots of maps on our phones (otherwise about as useful as bricks) to navigate our reliable rental Accord to the house of some friends of a friend for Thanksgiving. On the left side of the road, of course. We ended the evening visiting a fellow U of M alum and friend from ROTC. Oh, you're in England too? Fancy seeing you here!

The thing with the military is....there is a "little America" wherever you go. There is always someone you know. And as time goes on, you know more people everywhere.

The first year I was away from home in Michigan, I had Thanksgiving with Dave and my friend Kevin who drove from Michigan to see us Georgia. In 2008, I spent it with the Woodmans in Georgia. Dave was in pilot training. In 2009, I was deploying 3 days later and we spent it with the Bartomeos in Kansas. In 2010, Dave was deployed and I spent it with the Krausses in Kansas. In 2011, Dave and I took a trip to California and spent the holiday with the Rubys in San Francisco. Last year, we spent it with our awesome neighbors Steve and Julie and their family. Friends have always surrounded us with love during the holidays.

We've been able to get home to Michigan and to Chicago to spend Christmas with family a few times, but revolving the longer family trips around holidays hasn't always worked with deployments and TDYs = what everyone experiences in the military.

But I've been thinking a lot lately about what 'home for the holidays' really means to me after living this lifestyle for several years. Because while I'm in a new (I won't say completely foreign) country, I feel oddly more at home than even I would have expected.

Home is spending holidays with friends in the same situation, across the ocean from loved ones. It's just like in the states, but everyone is even further away and less likely to be flying back home, and even more concerned about people not spending the holidays alone.

Home is being surrounded by people you just met who went through moving here during the holidays in years prior, and know what you're going through...staying in temporary lodging on base and living out of suitcases for 4-5 weeks. Not that it's "so terrible," but that it just isn't exactly comfortable. With 2 dogs. More people than I would have expected have gone through the exciting process of moving here with dogs! :) I shouldn't be surprised.

Home is in the BX when you make the sad mistake of finding yourself in the middle of some midnight madness shopping with hundreds of other Americans. Honestly this is something I would never dream of partaking in back in the States, but maybe I just enjoyed the familiarity of my surroundings for a couple hours.

Home is picking a tag from the Angel Tree on base and fulfilling a 7 year old boy's holiday wish. I'll be completely honest- I haven't participated in an Angel Tree since we did it at church growing up. I wish I could see that little boy open up his lego set (that Dave had a blast picking out) and Yahtzee game on Christmas morning, but imagining is enough.

Home is baking cookies for the Airmen in the dorms with an oven I have no idea how to operate. With a wine bottle as a rolling pin (this isn't my first rodeo). And circle biscuit cutters for cookie cutters because the Christmas cookie cutters were sold out two weeks ago. But because it is fun and those 18 and 19 year old Airmen are across the pond from their families too. I'll be honest, prior to this year, I never participated in the cookie drive on base...ever. The ladies collecting them were SO excited and appreciative when we dropped them off that I stopped stressing that maybe they were too done and I messed them up in the foreign oven I didn't know how to use. I really did make them with love and drenched them with sugary yummy frosting and sprinkles so if that isn't enough...I hope they aren't homesick for their mom's cookies back home :)

Giving during the holidays feels good. Giving anonymously or to those you don't know feels even better, I think. I don't know why. I took comfort in participating in these Christmas traditions, regretting not doing it more in the past.

Home is sending out Christmas cards even though they probably won't arrive until New Year's. Maybe Valentine's Day. I really enjoy doing that every year so it was comforting to be able to sit down and write them as usual. With Christmas music playing, of course.

Home is being with Dave and the pups. Anywhere, including this little TLF (military acronym translation-temporary lodging facility). Because while I would love to be with more of my family, they are enough.

And not only are they enough, but we are in the middle of an amazing opportunity. I so truly appreciate the Christmas cards we have received from friends and family back home, along with messages sending love. It would be sad if everyone forgot about us :) But I also truly feel so lucky for what we have and where we are.

On Saturday night, we attended Dave's Squadron Christmas Party at Clare College at The University of Cambridge. I looked it up later and Clare College was founded in 1326! It is the University's second oldest college. The U.S. is just a little baby compared to this place :) Large pictures of Cambridge scholars hung on the dining room walls as craziness ensused at the party. During his closing comments, Dave's Commander talked about one scholar in particular, General Cornwallis, one of the leading British Generals in the American Revolutionary War. In 1781 he surrendered to American and French forces at the Siege of Yorktown. Today, the British host American forces in their country as our Allies & friends, and allow us to hold our holiday parties in rooms where their leaders studied. It is...amazing!

We hope all of our loved ones have a wonderful holiday surrounded by friends, family & love!

Merry Christmas!

U.K. Week 1

2013-12-05T22:31:00.001+00:00

I've really been wanting to blog but I have been...le tired. So I'll just do a thought dump. This might lack creativity. So far:

The cider is GREAT.
English food is good
and...
the roads are CRAZY.

I thought IPAs went down too easy. Now I have a whole new problem: cider.

Driving in the English countryside will be the scariest thing about this assignment. I had no idea.

I've been spending my evenings drinking tea and doing fun activities like studying for my U.K. drivers permit. I passed with the minimum score of 80% today. So more "Highway Code" review is in my near future. But really, the book isn't going to help when you are driving down tiny roads with no shoulders in the dark with deep ditches on either side full of 20 feet of water. The roads in the countryside surrounding the base were not designed for fast cars. They were designed for slow tractors and horses.

Yesterday we put a holding deposit on a house in Ely. We fell in love with the house when we viewed it so we jumped on it; there have been less and less properties to let as we move into winter, and especially with all the things we were looking for so that was a huge relief. It is cozy, right off the river, across the street from a cute tearoom and antique store, has a decent yard for the pups, and is in walking distance of the train station, the grocery store, restaurants, pubs, the cathedral and several other charming little sites.

Now that we know where we will live, we will set up a local bank account. SIM cards should be in the mail now so I can be connected to the world again with my iHand.... :) But really, it will just be nice for Dave and I to have phones to get a hold of each other in a foreign country. We are still driving our "Reliable Rental" around town (and I guess until we passed our test today, sort of illegally? Ok let's be honest this scaredy cat has only driven once. Like 10 feet to the Commissary. And I think I forgot to drive on the left)...a heavy duty Honda Accord with 130, 000 miles on it. So we need to buy a car soon. We may try to just get by with one for now; as I mentioned, the house we found is in walking distance of basically everything I could need.

The process of signing a lease off base is sort of drawn out because the base must go inspect the house for safety...in our best interest, I guess. Hopefully that goes smoothly. Since we got here, we've been staying in temporary lodging on base. We had to switch rooms today (while simultaneously attending the mandatory Newcomers Brief...it's all about somehow doing 2 things at once right now), adding another level of confusion and stress for the dogs. I am guessing we'll be here for about 3 more weeks. I know what the relief will feel like for all of us when they have a yard again.

Dave and I are both sick. Should have totally expected that to happen. I was just starting to get back into my running a few days ago when it came on; maybe my body doesn't agree with the damp cold yet.

Everyone who has moved here has told us it will take AT LEAST 30 days to get settled. So for now, it's one day at a time. It's laying down at night exhausted but appreciative of this opportunity. It's moments of excitement mixed with moments of pure anxiety. Thankful we're here as a family & thankful for the warm welcome we have received from friends in the form of cooked meals, care packages with British goodies and truly making us feel like we can call for anything (with our pay as you go phone from 1990 that I barely know how to operate....but it works). Also, the locals. Very kind!

Cheers!

Our first meal (at London Heathrow). I was a fan.

Bag of snacks and beer from Dave's sponsor/squadron that was
in our room when we checked in. We lived off of that for a
couple days I think.

Bird in Hand, right outside the base. Dave had been
here many a time before when passing through Mildenhall.

British Beef & Ale Pie with a cold Strongbow

RAF Mildenhall Forest

Ely Cathedral. Basically in the backyard of the
house we are trying to get.

Said delicious cider.

Welcome & goodies from the 351st

Honestly, the dogs are done with this phase.
Soon, dogs. SOON. Life will be back to normal.

Thank a Veteran

2013-11-11T16:31:00.001+00:00

I am so thankful for all Veterans. I enjoy seeing all my friends change their facebook profile pictures to those in uniform, with family members and fellow service members. It brings a lot of memories flooding back, and reminds me of the sacrifices that so many have made and are still making today. Right now. It makes me reflect on why I chose to join the military, and the reasons I have made the decisions that got me where I am today. It makes me proud to know so many amazing people.

I, like many others, am grateful for our Veterans every day. But many of us get caught up with day-to-day life and what we're doing and I think many, like me, don't think about it deeply all the time. I don't like to admit that, but it is true. Maybe because it is too sad? After 12 years in the current war, this country as a whole has become desensitized to what is still a very dark reality, in my opinion.

And like with everything else, FB makes it very easy to share our feelings and acknowledge our appreciation of Veterans. This isn't a bad thing. But what else can I do to help Vets year-round? More than I'm doing now.

I Commissioned in the Air Force in 2007. In 2008, my Grandpa passed away. My other Grandpa passed away when I was in high school and just beginning to consider serving in the Air Force (thanks to my brother).

I'll be honest, I did not have a deep appreciation of military service growing up. My appreciation of military service really only developed after it was too late to thank both of my grandfathers for their service, during a time when it wasn't always a choice. And not on FB, but in person. And I will say, I regret that. It's weighed on me for a few years.

Thinking about you both today and wishing I would have said thank you! ♥

Blessed not stressed

2013-11-08T22:20:00.001+00:00

Ok, sure. I feel like I've gained the American 15 (you know, the "oh crap we're moving to another country in a month and we're super busy moving out of the house and we have a lot to do and we're getting lazy with our meal planning and I want all the 'American' food I can get before I leave, anyway" equivalent to the Freshman 15) + I haven't been running enough to relieve stress, but let's face it, that is just me letting the stress win + sleep was not good for a couple weeks = I finally got sick a couple of days ago. Lots of tea and NyQuil and a lil' Bourbon (from Brandon and Julie) and I'm well on my way to feeling better already.

But other than that, things could be going much worse. We sold our house & closed last week. Even made like $5 on it. We're living with good friends & having a great time. It's like having college roommates but we make fancier meals and drink much better alcohol :) It's FALL! And I swear there is more fall color than usual around here :) Brandon and Julie stole my car. Ok, no. They bought it. Thank you Brandon and Julie for buying my car! I hope you enjoy the ride. We also got to see them for a night when they picked it up. We went to eat at Red Rock Canyon, a local favorite of ours (and theirs when they lived here). We have a few more things to knock out but we would not have made it to this point so smoothly without the support of great neighbors and friends, near and far.

(And thank you, Dave, for dealing with my stress when it does rear its ugly head. You are the one who gets to see it up close and personal).

We're in this giant transitional phase and I'm really trying to choose gratitude over stress, anxiety or worry. Soak up the time with the people and the "things" we love & enjoy here, because as much as I long to get settled again, I know we will miss family, friends and 'Merica!

Estimated date of departure: 25 Nov!
Thanksgiving plans: Turkey (or Shephard's pie?) and beer in an English pub

(Click to enlarge tiny photos:)

Moving Picnic

2013-10-23T04:14:00.002+01:00

The living room is empty. When I brought the dogs back from daycare, there was another level of confusion. They stared at the empty room. Then they laid on the edge of it most of the day. They were pretty tired, but after I did some more work around the house, I took them with me on my run just to make sure. Really trying to keep them tired and keep them in familiar environments to minimize their stress levels. I myself am obviously not confused, and haven't really been hit by the sadness. In denial maybe? But the longer I was in the house walking from room to room, preparing for the next phase of packers/movers (long term storage), it became more weird. Dave left this afternoon to go fly and expected to get home at about 9. So I decided to turn the living room into something less empty. A picnic!

A blanket, red Solo cups, Big Bold Red Yellowtail (not only do we like that one, but we let the packers pack all of our wine bottle openers yesterday...obviously we are still moving rookies. the Big Bold Red is a screw top:)), and popcorn. Ok I planned (microwave) popcorn, but Dave brought a light Arby's meal home. Even better. Family picnic by candlelight complete. I think we might move the spare mattress upstairs tonight :)

How do you cope with big moves? How do you turn the weirdness into fun? ♥