An Iron report...Coeur D'Alene 2013

It's done.  Here lies the race report and musings.  Read on if you want my in-depth thougts :)

Training began in October with a warm up month to see what I could handle.  I literally worked out 1 hour a  week to test my running and swimming.  I made the decision to register and never looked back. Once I registered I started to train in earnest in November.  I kept a detailed spreadsheet of my workouts, and my average hours in workouts per week from November through June 15th was 8 hours and 11 minutes.  This is a big and a small number.  The guys who are winning the age group may train over 25 hours in a week.  My biggest week was 14.5 hours. 8 hours a week is probably low for someone wanting to finish the race without walking or injuring themselves on race weekend.

Iron distance racing is about the journey.  The journey requires avoidance of injuries by race day and then gaining the fitness to perform.   I experienced overuse injury after overuse injury.  From hip pain, to knee pain, to foot pain, to achilles pain it all came and went and came and went.  I felt my age and my mortality as I resurrected my running joints from a long hiatus.

The journey requires time and money.  After making that statement I jotted down the costs for each discipline of the race (swim, bike run).  I also tallied cost of gear, registration, reconnaissance trips, race weekend etc. I am embarrassed to say this but I spent the equivalent of a used Honda Civic on new gear, travel, maintenance etc etc.  I will say we created several fun couple, friend and family vacations out of the training trips and it doesn't feel like the money was wasted or poorly spent :)

The heart of ironman racing comes in the form of training.  You make a conscious, daily, weekly, monthly and yearly decision to commit.  This commitment for me began with documentation.  Early on, I purchased a Garmin 910XT and created a google doc to track the number of miles, minutes, elevation gain, speed, vertical feet per mile and percentage in each discipline both a motivation and and a check to be sure I wasn't shorting myself in required miles and hours.  There is a certain satisfaction and confidence that comes from logging that data after each workout.

My source and bible for all things training was a book I purchased first thing, Going Long was the end all be all of my training.  Some people hire personal trainers and coaches.  This, I think, is ideal and will lead to better overall results and times, but for me I wasn't sure I was ready to spend money in that way and I also wanted to understand for myself the science and requirements of my training.  I am happy with how things turned out, but always in the back of my mind was the question of whether I'd made a mistake in not hiring a coach...The book was phenomenal and was spot on.  Down to calculating my target heart rates, pace planning, meal preparation etc etc this book nailed it...

The cycling was the easiest to commit to.  To be on the bike is a joy.  The distance of these training rides required another level of commitment, but from the time spent in the basement watching episode after episode of Justfied for 5 hours or on a ride from my house to the top of immigration and back--the cycling was good times.  My true breakthrough in cycling training was embracing the trainer.  My usual life plan is to vegetate during the winter, gain 15 pounds and then start to chip away at the weight and regain the form starting in March or April.  This year was different.  2-5 hour trainer rides became the norm--and I caught up on several shows and movies I wouldn't have otherwise seen :)  In total, as a lead up to the event I logged 2500 miles on my new Cervelo P2.  This eclipsed my previous high in yearly cycling miles by about 700 miles.  I also came to begrudgingly appreciate the discipline of riding a TT bike in rolling to flat terrain for speed.

Running has never been a love of mine.  Running has always been a means to an end.  Run to get in shape for soccer and football.  Run as punishment for misbehavior at soccer and football practice.  Do not run more than is absolutely required.  But training for the ironman began to instill in me the benefits and positives of running.  The time required for a good hard satisfying workout is shorter than a bike ride.  You are putting in a harder effort from the get go and can only slow your effort so much without moving to an outright walk.  Have no illusion, the running monotony was tempered by listening the Brandon Mull's 'Beyonders', George Martin's, 'A Dance with Dragons' and various playlists...We did not own a treadmill at the time so all runs were done in the outdoors.  Rain, Sun or Snow the runs continued.  There is a certain satisfaction to bundling up, cinching down your hood and strapping on cleats to your shoes and running in the snow.  Those runs especially gave the feel of determination and dedication to the task that lay months in advance. Over that 8 month period I ran 600 miles--having gone from 0 running miles per year for a decade...

Swimming!  I've always loved goofing around in a pool and I grew up doing just that--a lot.  Never, however, did I swim competitively or take lessons in swimming form. This was the most difficult discipline to consistently stick to.  Every trip to the pool, every entry into the water required an extra push.  From the cold water temperatures, to the extra time of driving and changing clothes there was little to like about swimming until the swim began.  Amy purchased a pair of MP3 headphones that work under water and once the swim began I could settle in and appreciate the beauty of the discipline.  The whole body workout, the muscle groups strengthened that normally weren't, the cardiovascular fitness achieved, and the constant work to hone and improve your position in the water.  These times in the pool--more than any other--were solitary.  At times discouraging and at times very satisfying to achieve new goals at a discipline I'd never experienced...

The lead up to the race began with my experience at the 70.3 Ironman St. George.  I haven't previously written about this event, but I loved it.  It felt like the perfect distance for my training.  The swim was intimidating as my first open water swim event.  The bike was gorgeous but challenging with a lot of climbing.  The run was exhilarating with crowds lining the streets and the red rocks all around. The St. George Ironman was emotional, fulfilling and fun.  That was not the case in Coeur D'Alene.  Where St. George was exhilerating Coeur D'Alene was taxing, where St. George was emotionally positive, Coeur D'Alene was emotionally demanding.  Now it may be that I could have gone harder at St. George and seen the stress and fatigue manifest to a greater degree, however, I'm not sure that's true as I fininshed in the same spot at both events with a similar size field.  50th in my age group and 250th overall.

My write up about committing to an ironman event 12 months ago incorporated heavily my journey to this point with Joseph Lee.  We began this journey together and we had an amazing experience in St. George, but for personal and important reasons he wasn't able to continue the journey to Coeur D'Alene.  We will continue to push ourselves in life together and I'm sure have many adventures in our future...

 After St George, I took a week of downtime and began my final build phase of training in preparation for the big event.  This final phase was a mixed bag of physical achievements and physical setbacks.  Not until just prior to heading to Coeur D'Alene did I experience any IT band pain.  And not until a run this week (4 months later) have I run without a knee band and without IT band pain.  My experiences with running overuse injuries is another story unto itself for another blog post that I probably won't write, but the IT band was the thing I battled going into race week and became a source for doubts as to whether I would actually be able to enter the and finish the race.

Some of my favorite memories of the training periods came from course surveillance with long time friends and new acquaintances.  From swimming with long time friends in 52 degree weather at Sand Hollow to Riding the 110 mile course at Couer D'Alene with new friends, the heart of the experience was in these moments with friends of working towards a common goal and doing so in difficult but exhilarating and new ways...

Race week began with Suzuki institute here at home.  Institute is hard to explain to those who haven't participated.  It is high stress with master classes for the kids lead by college professors and with requirements to practice in between sessions. Gratefully I was tapering for the race and I spent a lot of time at work and at institute with the kids.  Ideally race week is spent with little stress and in acclimatization at the race site. Life however happens and times with the kids at institute can be precious and frustrating all rolled into one.

On Thursday Jonny (my brother newly returned from South Carolina) and I loaded up in my Civic and we headed to Coeur D'Alene.  The drive becomes increasing gorgeous the closer you get the Couer D'Alene lake and city.  It was pouring rain as we entered the lake catchment area and visions of a very cold start on the bike were flashing before my eyes.  It was such a great time with Jonny there at my side.  He wasn't sure he would be able to come with me to the race, but it was a very meaningful gesture on his part come and he literally pushed me to complete at my very best in the final stages of the marathon.  I will forever remember his willingness to support me during those taxing and exhilerating days and hours before and during the race.

In the days leading up the race we met up with Kevin Abbott--my neighbor--with whom I trained during the last 8 months.  Our training partnership was a unique one as we rarely physically worked out together but we had weekly and sometimes daily contact about every aspect of our experience and preparation.  He and I were also at every surveillance trip together.  He is a great guy and will remain a life long friend.

Race week is the tug of managing nerves, getting to required events, assuring perfect event planning and honing your physical form. Triathlon is a logistical nightmare.  For the OCD type like me it is the perfect event to check and check and recheck and check a final time.  So many moving parts and needs for each discipline and then it all needs to packed into tight spaces and ready to go...

The race was on a Sunday and Saturday was filled with a warmup swim, bike, run then check-in of the bike and running gear that would be waiting at the transitions the next day.  Amy and Michael flew in on Saturday and it was really wonderful to have them arrive, take them on a quick tour and let Michael play at the indoor waterpark at our Hotel.  Jonny was Michael's best friend as he took him up the 3 flights of stairs over and over as I was trying to 'save' my legs for the next day's events...

Friday was spent watching movies and attending the official banquet.  I had a slight panic during World War Z thinking about possibly drowning during the swim.  Those killer fast zombies didn't help my emotional state.

Anyways, the evening before as I sat with Amy, Kevin, Kevin's wife Sarah at the waterpark we reiterated that we were just ready to get this thing over, but that it was crazy to think that the singular focus of the last 8 months were coming to an end and life would be vastly different in about 24 hours...

At 4 am Sunday morning it was fairly light in Couer D'Alene.  We could see well to take pictures and survery our surroundings.  The crush of people in the morning, the nervous energy of the athletes and the feelings of that morning are not often experienced.  In my mind, the most difficult part of the ironman is just deciding that you are willing to toe the start line.  It seems crazy to train and try for it, but such a cool experience once you settle in.

The water temp was 64 degrees and when we arrived there was fog covering the water and we couldn't actually see all the bouys.  It was slightly daunting and eerie.  At this stage I used the facilities, kissed Amy and Michael, took some pictures, hugged Jonny and settled in with  friends to await the start of the race.

The start of an ironman is a strange time in our skin tight wetsuits with goofy looking caps, goggles and ear plugs inhibiting normal interactions.  People range from swimming in the water, stretching, grinning stupidly to staring dazedly out at the water.  The gun went off and the rolling start went well.  Within minutes we had streamed through the start gates and were swimming.  Surprisingly, I enjoyed the swim.  The distance is one that is daunting on paper and in your mind, but I'd done this distance in training over and over in the pool.  (I can't say that for the run as I'd never in my life run longer than 14.5 miles at one sitting until the day of the race--more on that later.)  Swimming is unique in that way as you CAN replicate the total swim distance over and over.  This is not true of the run at all and not really of the bike as the 112 mile bike and 26 mile runs are total injury pitfalls and are usually not attempted in the lead up to the race.

Once you get over the washing machine effect of the swim start you can settle in and do your thing.  I was not a fast swimmer in the pool, but the combination of the wetsuit, the adrenaline and the draft benefits lead to a PR in both the St. George swim and then the Coeur D'Alene swim...At the St. George 70.3 swim (1.2 miles) I clocked in at 35:30.  At Couer D'Alene I clocked my first lap at 33:10 (1:43/100m) and it felt great.  I found myself passing the time by naming all the reasons I love Amy and all the sacrifices she'd made for me to get to this point.  The rest of the time was spent rolling over other competitors, sighting to maintain proximity to buoys and ideally maintaining a draft (whenever I could actually tell if people were next to me:)  My second lap was a bit slower at 36:01 but I was ecstatic at my time of 1:09:11 as I stumbled off the beach and into transition.

I quickly changed into my yellow jersey (presumptuous I know, but great for visibility and for my family as they spectated...), arm warmers, vest and hopped onto P2 loaded down with EFS goo, rockstar super sours, salt tabs, water and ibuprofen/tylenol.  I didn't see Jonny, Amy and Michael as I headed out but they were cheering with video as I came out of the chute to the road.  I settled in with the plan to have an absolute max heart rate of 165 during the race and and average of 150 for the course of the 112 miles.  This happened exactly as my garmin data showed an average HR of 150 and a max of 166--this with 5400 vertical feet of climbing over the two loop course.  I clocked in at 5 hours 41 minutes and an average of 19.67 mph.  My first loop was a 2:45 which put me on track for a 5:30 bike, but I scaled back the second loop to assure an ability to maintain my exertional and HR goals--with ultimate hope of finishing the marathon strong.

At bike end, I took my ibuprofen and tylenol, downed more EFS goo and took in a bit more rockstar.  Over the course of the bike I attempted to take in between 200-400 cal/hour and I think I got close to 1800 calories overall--including approx 250 mg of caffeine.

It was a strange sensation starting the run.  I had on my Hokas, north face hat, shorts, shirt and race belt (equipped with two 400 calorie EFS goo.)  What I forgot was my knee strap.  Luckily 4 miles in Jonny came along with my bag of backup items and handed my a second band.  Whether just psychological, that band sure felt good to get synched up...

My run was my run.  It started strong (for me) on pace for a 3:40 marathon but I began to hit a wall that I'd never hit before.  Throughout the marathon, I alternated goo & water at one mile station and coke at the next station.  I would walk the station long enough to down the nutrition and start up again jogging.  As I stated before, my longest run ever was 14.5 miles prior to the event. In an ideal world I would have run 18 miles 3-4 weeks before, but my IT band could barely manage the 13 mile brick run after the 160 miles of cycling on that weekend.  Going into the day I figured my cardiovascular fitness was there, but my joints and run specific muscles would be at the greatest risk of giving out.  It was a beautiful thing to see Michael and Amy at the 13 mile marker and give her a kiss and him a high 5 before heading out on the final loop!

Those last 10 miles were very difficult.  I wasn't going all out, but mentally and muscularly I knew that if I pushed any bit more I would have to start walking and my mile/minute time would balloon out of control.  Jonny brought his bike and would leap frog me every 1/4 to 1/2 mile or so early on and take pictures and yell out encouragement.  From mile 20-24 he was leap frogging every several 100 yards as he could see the emotional, physical toll of the event in my every body cue.  Thanks in part to him though, I didn't stop and outright walk the final miles.

I finished with a 4 hour marathon and 11:03:02 overall--placing me 45th in my age division and 247th overall.  I would say I was ecstatic with that time and my performance, but all I could think about were the black spots that had developed in my peripheral vision, the lightheadedness, nausea and abdominal cramps that overwhelmed me at the finish.  A volunteer walked me to my medal, a space blanket and the food.  I downed chocolate milk, coke, pizza, ice cream and slowly attempted not vomit it all back out.  I made a beeline to the lake and sat in the water. My ideally exhilarating emotions at having achieved my goals for this test were severely tempered by the overwhelming nausea and abdominal discomfort.

I started this write up one week before after we left for Couer D'Alene (and finished it four months later) and different aspects of the experience continue to settle in.  Before and after the race Amy talked of how proud she was of me and how cool the experience was.  However, last night (four months ago) as she felt the weight of lessons, practices, getting kids packed for the next trip she wasn't in the same flowery mood.  I asked her some philosophical question about the race and she didn't want to talk about it.  Her answer was blunt and true and has had me thinking.  She said, 'I've never done anything that took 10 hours a week for myself.'  'There are lots of things you can do in life that are worthwhile--that help others.'  Admittedly, I caught her at a stressful moment with the kids and before and after that moment she's expressed definite excitement and pride in our accomplishment (the accomplishment was definitely ours as she sacrificed those times when I would take five or more hour training days...)

There is something meaningful in the pursuit of excellence.  Pushing your body and mind to new heights seems to tap into an emotional, physical and even spiritual reserve as you learn more about yourself and what you can accomplish.  I hope that the time and dedication I spent to achieve what I did over the last year will make me a better father, husband and person.

I added this video.  It's more meant for family and friends as it's a bit long...but here it is :)

ironman CDA 2013 1 from paul frandsen on Vimeo.

An Iron decision...

 

The decision is official. I will be competing in two Ironman events over the next 9 months.  Having decided over the last two months to compete in the Ironman events, various emotions have washed over me at different times.  Trepidation, elation, excitement, fear, doubt, resolve, second thoughts, anxiousness, pride and a driving need to prepare and succeed.  

My relationship with triathlons has always been suspect.  Not least of all because I have traditionally hated to run.  Really.  That hatred is born of painful conditioning segments of soccer and football practices in High School.  Runnnig wasn't the end. Running was the means.  Running was the punishment.  Running was what  you did before and after the good stuff.  

My longest running event to date is officially the 10k speedy Spaniard during high school.  My longest unofficial event was when the soccer team ran 13 miles to Springville and back for soccer conditioning.  Unashamedly I walked for large parts of that event.  In my lifetime I have participated in less than 5 official running races.  A few 5k's and one 10k.  

Swimming.  I have traditionally loved to swim.  Not in a competitive way, but in a 'stay all afternoon at the Spanish Fork pool' kind of way.  I completed the highest swimming merit badges and did some lifeguard classes.  However, I had never raced or competed officially in a swimming event until medical school for the 4th street clinic sprint distance triathlon.  In preparation for that event I went to the pool less than 5 times to try out lane swimming.  I also went running less than 5 times to break in a pair of clearance Adidas shoes I purchased for the event.  I had been biking once a week or so with buddies during the year and the triathlon was a sprint x-terra blend with an off road course on the Bonneville shoreline trail.  

Ironically, from my description above you can tell that I was woefully under-prepared and I was blissfully unaware of that fact.  I was still in the honeymoon of my physicality where in High School your body and joints were always up for anything.  I hadn't come up against a physical wall yet and certainly not because of my age.

The triathlon went fine, but I wasn't enamored with it.  Instead, cycling set hold in my life.   I was an unabashed Lance Armstrong fan.  Michael was born July 2nd 2003 the day the Tour de France started.  I had the month off and every morning I would get up when the telecast began and would watch all 4 hours of the telecast on OLN with Phil and Paul lulling Michael to sleep and keeping my rapt attention as Lance repeated his inhuman feats of skill.  I was hooked.  The guy that used to ride his mountain bike on the condition of a shuttle to the top of the mountain. The guy who definitely made fun of those in spandex who rode their bikes where you could take a car instead.  At least a mountain bike was taking you places you couldn't have gone in a mechanized vehicle.  This mock disdain didn't last longer than Lance's slowest climb up Le Alp de Huez.  From the time I built my used Raleigh in 2004 till now I have been a fervent cyclist.  It started with me pretending to be Lance up Immigration, Big Cottonwood, Millcreek, City Creek and Little Cottonwood during my fourth year of medical school.  I participated in one formal cycling event that year--the Ulcer.  I did a fair number of group rides and lots of mountain biking in Moab, St. George and the Wasatch front.

All good things come to an end and with the end of medical school came residency.  We lived in the Loma Linda, Redlands, San Bernardino nexus in California.  I tried riding my road bike to work for a few weeks at odd hours and my first shift in the ER as a resident I actually forgot extra shoes and had to wear booties to my first shift.  I was intensely embarrassed.  It wasn't the last time I would do that though :)  Biking to work soon ended and my mountain biking was hard to maintain because of the distance to a trail head.  I could be out and back on a cycling workout before I would even arrive at the trail head in my car.  Thus I began exclusively road biking.  I was still very amateur and mildly committed to the sport.

Then came a fateful visit to Grauman's Chinese theater where we met Joseph and Amy Lee who were living in California.  We ate at Buca Di Beppo and Joseph and I--high school buddies--began talking cycling.  Joseph mentioned that he'd been looking to move to the next level and race in the some California events.  He had his eyes on the race around Lake Tahoe.  I was keenly interested and we agreed we would do it.  I was near the end of my 2nd year of residency training and I was about to break 203 pounds.  My blood pressure had officially reached a level where I probably should have started a blood pressure medicine, and my resting heart rate was cloer to 100 than I would have liked.  Spending most my time in the hospital and eating cafeteria food had not been good to me.  Joseph was a fit 175 pounds and while we sat there eating meatballs and feta cheese I realized that if I wasn't going to embarrass myself I had my work cut out for me.  In cycling, gravity is king.  That summer we had Ella and so I had one month of paternity and one month of research.  I rode my bike 5 days a week for about an hour and sometimes longer on weekends.  I committed to a 1500 calorie per day diet and by the time we hit the start line in Tahoe I weighed 173 pounds, my blood pressure was low normal and resting heart rate was under 60 bpm.  I have never reached that weight since that event, but at the time I felt really good.  I felt confident in my fitness, I was proud of my new physique, there was a real sense of relief in the health benefit I had achieved in avoiding heart disease, hypertension etc.etc.etc.  That year my grand rounds focused on the real danger of obesity and inactivity.  

Aside from the weight benefits, I loved to cycle.  I loved the amount of ground I could cover in a single ride.  I loved the vistas and the sense of accomplishment I felt from climbing big mountain peaks, being at one with the environment around me and achieving things with my body that a majority of Americans don't these days.  Aside from the race at Tahoe, my crowning achievement was a solo ride to Big Bear on my bike.  I was hooked.  In addition, the bonding Joseph and I experienced riding Tahoe that year cemented the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership in cycling and life.  

Since that fateful day near Grauman's Chinese theater, I have ridden with and without Joseph in many events including the California Death Ride, the Ultimate Challnege, Saints to Sinners, Lotoja, Local Criteriums and Stage races, Hill Climbs (Immigration and Snowbird) among others.  As my fitness and abilities on the bike improved, I would think back to my first sprint triathlon and it would nag at me.  Would I ever compete in another triathlon?  Would I consider an Ironman?  After finishing Lotoja this year well ahead of the goal I set for myself and having talked with Joseph off and on about his flirtations with running I figured I was ready to give it a go.  Lotoja took me under 10 hours and Ironman events usually take 10 plus hours to complete.  I could do this right?  

I registered for St. George 70.3 Ironman event and bought a lot of running equipment, including some Hoka running shoes.  I ran a mile at a time and after working through the aches and pains of using muscles I probably hadn't seriously used since medical school or perhaps even high school.  I took the plunge and registered for the Coeur d'Alene full Ironman.  Joseph and Kevin Abbott (my elder's quorum president) registered have also registered.  I've set forth my journey to my decision.  But the question remains.  Why Ironman?  The more I read about it, the more I realize how grueling it can be.  As I've searched myself and tried to find the justifications to Amy as to why I will take time away from her and the kids to complete this event I've come up with a variety of motivations and reasons.

Do hard things. Someone insinuated this may be a mid-life crisis for me.  I wouldn't say that, but as I near my 35th year, I'm not young, not old, but not getting any younger.  I watch the guys in the tour and the oldest guys nearing retirement are pretty near my age.  My clock is ticking and I'd like to test myself physically, that was certainly a large part of my motivation to ride my best time possible at Lotoja this year.  

Fitness and Health.   The underlying driver of this decision to workout and be physical is the definite health advantages.  I see very overweight people during every shift at the emergency department and it is hard to see.  These people are sitting around destroying their bodies and their health.  They are wasting away and they are cutting decades from their lives.  It is sad and I don't want to be party to that.  

A celebration of life.  Life is amazing.  Our bodies are amazing.  Some of my most poignant and spiritual experiences have come on the bike or in the back country as I push myself to achieve things I didn't think possible.  That testing of myself, my will and my spirit gives me a better understanding of who I am and what I'm capable of.

Friendship.  For a time there, because of complications at work, it wasn't clear that Joseph would be able to register for Coeur d'Alene.  It was disheartening.  We had experienced so much of this journey together and it is clear that I would not have been as successful or had near as much fun in the process without him.  It was with a heavy heart that I registered not knowing if he would get in (there were less than 100 spots left when I registered and he wasn't quite sure it was right for he and his family.)  However, that afternoon Joseph texted me to let me know he was in and we would be entering this next phase of our lives together.  

Family.  Last and not least my family.  I am a better person when I am confident and healthy.  I am able to give more fully to my kids and be a better example when I am giving my all in the different areas of my life.  I hope that they will see in my decision the desire to do and achieve hard things.  I hope it will motivate them to also achieve and aspire to do hard things.  Hopefully they will know that they can achieve most anything they realistically set their minds to.  My wife has been a supportive companion in our 12 years of marriage.  This next 9 months will be a journey and I have committed to her as a part of this decision that while this will be one of the hardest things I've ever done it will not overshadow the more important daily tasks of being her husband and a father.  

So, here's to the next 9 months.

Paul

 

 

joined strava...

i joined strava today. here's the AF canyon climb from last year. i may never be in that type of shape ever again so i thought i'd share..:)



strava is a social networking site geared towards GPS tracked exercise. commonly cyclists and runners will use the site to gauge their efforts in relation to local cyclists on local rides. you maintain a news feed like facebook or twitter with the rides of those you follow displayed. the site will automatically locate segments of your ride that are in common with others and rank you according to your elapsed time over that segment. lots of fun and good motivation to get out and work hard..:)

in which i post lots of vacation photos...

yes, we went to disneyland and no, it hasn't lost its shiny happy place in our lives. this trip was marked by a weekend with the Rowley's at their place that included zip lines, chickens, the superbowl, homemade brick oven pizza, and lots of time with great friends. thank you!


while our kids aren't opposed to giving hugs to each other, the number of hugs given in a given day multiply by ten at disneyland and this last trip was no different. anytime my kids are hugging each other is a good time.


amy loves it when i snap photos of her as if she were a supermodel. and while she is a supermodel to me, you can see the slight irony/exasperation in her expression here...who better to spend a family trip to disneyland with than her...


ella continues to carve out her own personality and niche in our family. it was on full display this last trip...


michael is a joy in my life. he is fun, intelligent, happy, curious and handsome (if i do say so myself...)



the rowleys!


i like to think that i contributed to mitt's recent rise in the california polls--outpacing santorum by 20 points in the most recent rasmussen poll...


some of the kids most favorite parts of disneyland can be done at the local carnival--the merrygo round and bubbles...


so serene. abby is an example of finding joy in the simple parts of life.


a character..:)


what better scenes than to have your children embracing each other. may it always be so.


this ride ranks 2nd to last in the park next to the tea cups. i gracefully waited this ride out to take photos...



i definitely prefer my girls to gain a little attitude to help weather life's waves...


my little bekah is growing up. she loves to explore her surroundings, she likes to try out her new ideas verbally with us and i love being around her...


true?

My son the BYU fan...

Michael and I went to the Idaho BYU game on Saturday night. There are few places I would rather have been. He is a joy to be around. His dry, witty nature is a crack up combined with his passion for football and his loving sincere nature make for the recipe of an amazing boy and one of the best people with whom to spend your Saturday night.

He is a shorts guy. He was adamant throughout the winter last year that he be allowed to wear shorts to school every day. I can't say I didn't go through this phase often growing up--so we indulge him. The game on Saturday night hovered near freezing and I was in multiple layers including a thick winter coat and gloves. Michael however shed his layers the moment we arrived at our seats near Grandpa Frandsen and Uncle Kelly. He proceeded to go minimalist the rest of the night. Twice we had people next to us offer him clothing--which he politely declined. He did show signs of hyperactivity and restlessness to facilitate his staying warm--generally manifesting as a more enjoyable passion for the game through cheering, jumping around and general animatedness.

I love this kid and was priviledged to hang out with him on a Saturday night. Here's to many Saturday nights in the future...

Below gives a small taste of a game with Michael..:)

Michael's Cello Recital: Suzuki Book 1

Michael had his first cello lesson on his 6th birthday. A new cello was one of his presents, and our family began a journey. It was fun and exciting and new, and as he began to play the cello, music began to play a bigger part in the everyday life of our family.


And music is something that just fits with Michael. He has a mind that loves detail, counting, and patterns. He is expressive and loves experimenting with dynamics. Sometimes he gets a little overly experimental... but that is really fun too! I've loved seeing his progress. He is generally quite cooperative, loves to try new things, and adds his own little musical flair into the pieces he practices.

Practicing each day (except Sundays) is the laid-out goal, which we sometimes meet easier than others. It takes commitment and lots of time from everyone in the family. We try to get Michael's done in the morning before school, which is far more successful than trying it in the afternoon when our whole family is busy with other activities. And although I rarely get exercise and showered before noon because of all the practicing that happens at our house, I truly treasure and enjoy the one-on-one time I get with Michael when we practice. We set goals together, we congratulate accomplishment and make critiques together, and we do hard things together. It's not always easy, and occasionally it isn't pleasant. But we work things out, and there is value in struggling together, too.



And moments like this recital make it all worth it.

Two years and hundreds of morning practices later, we gathered in our music room with some of our friends and family to celebrate his hard work and dedication. He played 17 songs from memory (23 if you count the Twinkle Variations... ), and did so with attention to tone and dynamics. It was fulfilling to me, as his mother, to sit back and realize his progression, and the beautiful music he is able to make.


There were several family members who were not able to join us... and we thank you for your well wishes for Michael. That meant a lot. So here are a few requested snippets I videoed from my half of the room:

He started at the end of the book, doing the most advanced pieces first. Here is a bit of Minuet 3:



Here is part of Etude:



Part of French Folk Song, the "Anthem of The Cello," and still my favorite. I have lots of memories wrapped up in it. When I listen to Michael play it, I often remember hearing Michael play it for the first time with accompaniment with his first teacher Liz Willey. At that time it brought tears to my eyes as I enjoyed beautiful music coming from a beautiful instrument being played by my beautiful boy. I teared up again as Liz and Michael played it together for the last time when she left on her mission and we were faced with finding a new teacher. We loved Liz and she was so sweet with Michael.

French Folk Song has done the same thing to me many times since... it is just a beautiful song to me and will always have a tender place in my heart. (You should hear it with beautiful cello accompaniment...)



Speaking of beautiful cello accompaniment, this is Michael's teacher, Carey Cheney. She is simply wonderful, and has a way of empowering him to do his best and "be the expert" when it comes to his technique and tone. She is always so positive, and playful in a professional way. We love her. She would have normally accompanied Michael on her cello, but she had an injury to the thumb of her bow hand the week before the recital (a run in with a knife while making Canadian Thanksgiving Dinner, resulting in many stitches and lots of healing time). This was sad (because it brings tears to my eyes to hear the two cellos play together so beautifully...); but as a benefit, Paul got to accompany Michael on the piano. Which was so fun for the two of them to do together.



Special thanks must go to Paul for all that he does in the music endeavors of our family. Not only did he play for Michael's recital, he regularly spends a few hours each week helping me get practices in with kids (Michael's cello and piano, and violin with Abby and Bekah). He has the skills and the ear to help even without going with us to lessons, and lends me emotional support when things get a little hard... and I value that so much!! The kids would usually rather practice with him than with me, and he lends a new set of eyes and ears to things that can be worked on. Their teachers and other moms tell me all the time how lucky I am to have a husband that helps... and I AGREE!!! I don't think I could do it without him and all the time he puts into helping so much with the kids. He is the BEST dad, and we all love him.

Aren't they just two peas in a pod?


He is holding his ultimate favorite candy bar. CRUNCH!!!

Michael, I am proud of you for doing hard things. You practice so well, and are good at focusing and doing your best. I love spending time with you as you learn new pieces and polish up techniques. You listen well to your teacher, and soak up new information. My favorite moments practicing with you are watching you truly enjoy the making music, enjoying your fun sense of humor, and helping you make *new records* and *keep scores*. You are really good at it, and I love to watch you succeed.

At the end of the recital, Mrs. Cheney suggested you take 23 bows for 23 memorized songs. We were happy to clap and clap and clap!


It might have been your favorite part. :) :)



Good job Michael. Keep up the good work. We will always clap for you.

the book of mormon musical...

on our most recent trip to new york city i took a photo of the marquis after waiting 2 1/2 hours in line for an obstructed view cancellation ticket for the hottest show on broadway--a show with 8 performances a week sold out through december. amy chose not to go and attended "how to succeed in business without really trying" starring none other than Daniel Radcliffe... Harry Potter himself.

i am of two minds...

i loved it. and, i'm very uncomfortable with it.

i grew up with musicals--road trips, les miserables, phantom of the opera, west side story, music man, into the woods and many more... some of my more enjoyable, inspiring and uplifting artistic/spiritual experiences have revolved around music--as a participant and a viewer. the genre fits me and i responded.

as a former missionary there is much to identify with--the chalboard with stats on it from the district meeting, hanging out together at bedtime making small-talk, how uncomfortable the assignment of companions can be, the emotions during the group baptismal scene, the district's comraderie, the senior/junior companion dynamic, the incredibly complex emotions felt during mission service, doubts of a 19 year old boy, the guilt of a 19 year old boy.

here is the south park creators' take on proselyting...



as my sister-in-law said, it's surreal seeing yourself in lights on broadway. and i agree! it was really strange to see a backdrop of the slc temple and scenes in the MTC that are so germane to my life yet so exotic to the secular audience inhabiting the theatre...

as the mormon professor richard bushman said (paraphrase), it's like seeing yourself in the fun house mirror. it's your nose but it's malproportioned.

another example where the missionaries receive their mission calls...



as a mormon, believer and christian two ubiquitous religious themes are doubt and guilt. both were dealt with deftly. is joseph smith a fraudulent schemer who fabricated the book of mormon and hoodwinked thousands or was he called of God and translated a book written by God's prophets? the south park boys say it doesn't matter and that mormons are good, content, happy people. guilt and doubt are emotions that every believer either directly or indirectly must square themselves with. for whatever reason, i didn't mind seeing the more outlandish of our beliefs being portrayed in an accurate yet farcical light. i didn't mind laughing. if i search within myself i would like to think my ability to laugh is due to my being at peace with the faith claims of my church.

i sat next to a woman from manhatten. as we talked at intermission she gasped when i told her i was from utah. she said, 'is this okay'? she said, 'i don't know much about the mormon church, but i sometimes see the missionaries near my house. they always seem so nice. this show can't be accurate regarding mormons right?' it was comforting that she took the show as plain satire and wasn't ready to use it as the truth about mormons. ironically, the show gives a fairly accurate portrayal of mormon beliefs.

one scene that was very funny and over the top yet rang true was 'spooky mormon hell dream'. as an adolescent and missionary with an overactive conscience i could definitely identify with this poor 19 year old mormon boy identifying with genghis khan and ted bundy because he left his mission companion for a whole night. i couldn't stop laughing and empathizing with him all at once.

i was very uncomfortable with the show. the portrayal of evil in media and art is a whole discussion unto itself. i am not opposed to 'R' rated media necessarily. however, this musical is very 'R' rated. the filth is in jest and satire and does not come across pornographically graphic. however, if lots and lots of 'F' words and sacrilegious blasphemic jokes are a deal breaker for you then don't spend your money on a show you will walk out on...there were two numbers so sacriligious that i wanted to hide my head under the chair. the sacrilege is balanced by the missionaries' horror as they react to the africans' words and actions.

i was disappointed with the portrayal of believers as lacking intelligence. phrases like 'mormons just believe' and the missionaries leaving the church and writing their own book at the end definitely waters down, dilutes and misses the central power of the religion the musical is meant to so accurately satirize. these aspects disappointed me the most...

exhilarating. there were moments watching my faith portrayed through powerful music with actors honestly exploring their characters when i just sat back enjoyed the humor, and emotions associated with the mormon culture, missionary culture, faith culture and a service culture.

one powerful remark from a salt lake tribune article came from "David Spencer, a Utah native and professional actor now living in New York City, has seen the musical twice. The former Mormon said he would gladly buy a third ticket.

Spencer thinks selected Salt Lake City audiences would enjoy the show, but theatergoers expecting a mean-spirited tone will be disappointed. “It made me ask if I threw out the baby with the bathwater when I left the church. That’s a powerful question to open up within yourself, and certainly not something you’re likely to experience with any other Broadway musical.”

one mormon who has created positive spin through the musical is margaret young. margaret is a professor of english at BYU and has delved deeply into the church's treatment of blacks from the time of joseph smith to the present. her series on the 'the REAL elder price' is found here

i was very, very entertained by it. this show is seriously funny.

and lastly, the mildly offensive, but moving rendition of 'i believe' from elder price...as performed at the tony's...



have you seen the show? will you? should i have? or not...

10th Year Anniversary Cruise: The Mexican Riviera

For our 10th anniversary (celebrated August 2010 (I know... I'm still catching up on this here blog...)), Paul always envisioned a cruise extravaganza to celebrate. I agreed. We booked the cruise for the first time for November, but it was canceled due to a fire in the engine room of the ship a week before our trip... so we were forced to delay the extravaganza...

Until March 2011. Better late than never.

And all's well that ends well. We were able to reschedule, repack, and redo the plans for the kiddos (THANKS to Grandpatty and Aunt Hannah for being the main caregivers while we were gone!!!). It was perfect timing anyway, because we were ready to get out of the snow.

I know Paul already posted about the trip in this post with a video... but I want to document a little more with words and the pictures we have from the trip. Because it was a good one!

Our cruise departed from California... and it happened to be the same weekend that our BYU basketball team was playing in the MountainWest Championship in Las Vegas. Perfect time to be driving through Vegas, right?? Paul's dad and brother wanted to go too, and of course Michael was up for the trip. So that's how the trip started...


We stayed at Mandalay Bay where we took advantage of the fake "beach" between games. These boys were in heaven.


The games were a lot of fun... unfortunately we lost the final round game to SDSU...



After the games, Michael headed back to Utah with Grandpappy and Lafe, and Paul and I headed to California. We stayed there that night and woke up early to go to church and then board our ship that afternoon...

We were SO EXCITED to be headed out together for this trip. We had been anticipating it for so long! Preparing everything and trying to leave the kids with Paul's family with some semblance of organization was no small feat, so I felt like I had won my own MountainWest Championship by even being able to get on that ship!


We took a peek at our cabin... can you tell we were excited about our balcony??


Then we took off to explore the ship. There was an emergency drill where they divided the ship into assigned groups, and we ran into these two lovebirds...


Brittany and Pete... which was HILARIOUS because Brittany is the daughter of our neighbors from right across the street who had just gotten MARRIED the day before. I was so sad to miss their reception the previous night because of our trip... and we were so surprised to hear them calling our names and find out they were honeymooning on the same ship!! We thought they might be embarrassed to see us, but we actually ended up hanging out quite a bit on excursion days and on the ship... which was really fun and helped us feel young again! :)

Anyway... food, reading, resting, and time together filled the rest of the day... and the next. We found a little place to camp out on the back deck where we could watch the world drift away behind us...


And the third day we were ready for some adventures. Hello Cabo!!




Cabo is where we spent 2 days, and we hung out with Brittany and Pete. I was so glad Pete spoke Spanish. Paul thinks he knows the real words to "La Bamba" but I don't think that would have gotten us very far. First adventure: speedboat out to the beachfront of Lover's Arch and some snorkeling.

Lover's Arch (with 10 year lovers :) )...


Pelican rock (which smells like pelicans)...


First-time snorklers (who might have sort of looked like dorks)...


Amy and Brittany (who felt much safer in the water after renting some life jackets (again with the dorky...) )...


We didn't get any good underwater shots of ourselves...


But we did have fun looking at the fish...


Rumor has it that this wasn't great snorkeling. Probably not even good. But to all of us first-timers, it was a lot of fun!

Then we explored the beach...




And got some tacos on the beach...


This is where we decided that, the next day in Cabo, we wanted to have a more authentic adventure, and definitely some authentic FOOD... and get out of the touristy part of town. So we lined up scooters for the next day... and decided to do some para-sailing first thing in the morning!

It was a blast! So fun be up so high and feel so free...


That's our ship in the background...


Then we were off for our scooter adventure...

(Sorry... I am NOT going to take the time to figure out why some of the pictures aren't rotating for me...)

TA-DA!!! (Again with the dorky...) Thanks to Pete and his command of the Spanish language, and to Paul and his command of a map... we were off to explore! Paul's goal was to get to the other side of the beach, and Pete's goal was to find us a genuine Mexican meal.

Paul's goal didn't quite get realized as we searched and searched for the right road to get us over the mountain (and one that wasn't part of a resort that wouldn't let us through...). Our ride through the neighborhoods of town was a poignant reminder to me about the abundance (and excess) that I often take for granted in my own life. My eyes swam as I was filled with gratitude mixed with guilt, and I offered a prayer of thanks mixed with repentance and a vow to appreciate and give more.

Once we gave up on Paul's dream, we focused on Pete's and found this quaint family restaurant in the middle of the neighborhoods.



Again, Pete's Spanish came in handy to make sure that Paul's steak fajita was medium-well. We went back to meet the Mama cook and pay her our compliments...


Upon further exploration, we found a church (!!), a Costco (just like home... and we stocked up on sunscreen), I almost got hit by an oncoming car (saved by Paul's catlike reflexes and me sticking out my leg to "stop" the car), and Pete nearly ran his scooter into the wall at Costco (THAT was funny... except for the side mirror that broke off!). Lots of good times, and we made it back alive and in time to board the ship again.


Each night on the ship (even though the sign by the balcony said not to...) I propped the balcony door open with a chair, and we slept and read with the background sound of the ocean floating by. Sublime... one of my favorite parts of the trip...

(looking down from our balcony down to the wake of the ship...)

Next adventure: Puerto Vallerta. Our only real plan going in: The EXTREME canopy tour. (Emphasis on the EXTREME of course...)

It started with a 40 minute speedboat ride to the mountains of the town...


Followed by a rough-and-tumble dirt road ride up to the top...



We got all decked out in safety gear (again with the dorky??)...




Took a mule ride up the mountain...



And zip-lined to our hearts' content. There were more than a dozen zip-lines of varying distances and heights... it was breathtaking, peaceful, and exhilarating. We had a really fun group, and had a great time.





There were also a few spots to rappel. Once down a waterfall and a couple of times into water below.







It was a BLAST!!! I was left to wonder why I don't fill my days with a normal regimen of zip-lining and rappelling... ??



Definitely my favorite activity of the trip.

The last two days were travel days, spent in pure relaxation and enjoyment. Our upgraded cabin also came along with access to the spa's pools and saunas... so we pretty much pampered ourselves silly with relaxation, food, and... well... whatever we wanted to do!!

My favorite spot for reading was our little balcony with the sound of the waves, fresh air, and picturesque sunrises/sunsets.




Paul couldn't help himself, and held true to his Cougs. He connected with a few other Cougar fans on board and went to the sports room to watch the NCAA games that happened that week.


I guess Jimmermania is not land-bound.


And that Sunday morning we found ourselves docked, departed, and driving home to our favorite sight of all... kids who had missed us and were excited to have us home. Oh, and they loved the presents we brought back for them...


Abby especially loved trying to dance like a "real Mexican girl." (And don't worry, we had a talk about not using the shakers as weapons...)



Another thanks to Grandpatty and Hannah (and Grandpappy and Lafe, who were definitely involved in caregiving as well...). They were somehow able to care for our four kids and still kept up their school schedule, lessons, soccer... AND practiced their instruments with them nearly every day. Oh, and my house was spotless. Wowzer. I still don't know how I got such great in-laws.

The next morning we were thrown into the hustle and bustle of getting kids to school, Michael's cello lesson, girls' gymnastics lesson, Michael's choir rehearsal, and Paul's work. And oh, yes... loads of laundry. But after being rejuvenated and recharged, everything was brighter and more enjoyable. I savored the hugs and taps a little more. I adored the cute phrases and filled requests with a happier heart. I stretched out the bedtime routine just a little longer, and lingered in conversations with the kids a little more.

Yes, this wife and mother certainly benefited from our Mexican getaway. There is something about being away from the usual demands and decisions of life that breathes life into me again. I feel a little more connected to the adventurous, spontaneous side of me that has to take a second seat to the planned and thought-out, schedule-keeping manager of our home. Without the constant to-do lists and persistent needs of young children, I can actually be a pretty attentive wife, too. Yup... that fun-loving girl is still in there. And she had a blast with the love of her life.

It's been a great decade, Paul!

Let's have another, shall we??