People Are Crazy

Everyone knows about the current NBA lockout and the recent end to the NFL lockout.  It seems as if these are the only topics discussed on ESPN these days.  I started to get tired of seeing the same thing on ESPN.  I mean what happened to stories about athletes who are actually competing and not locked out of their sport?  Then I saw a story on Outside the Lines that trumped the depressing lock out news.  Que Charlie Wittmack the 5 foot 7, 145 lb. lawyer.  The dude is straight crazy.

He pushes himself to the limit.  As a teenager he biked across the country and a few years later climbed Everest.  Both trying tasks were too easy for him.  He decided he wanted to do the "ultimate triathlon."  What did he come up with?  Well he starts off with a 250 mile swim across the English Channel, then a 9,000 mile bike excursion, and wraps up the whole adventure with a 750 mile run/climb (including climbing Mt. Everest again as part of it).  He calls it the World Triathlon.  I call it crazy.

Despite the fact that the man is a total lunatic for taking on a challenge like this, I have to tip my hat to him.  Life wouldn't be nearly as interesting if we didn't have psycho people who pushed the limits like this guy.  When I watched/read everything I could about Mr. Wittmack, I got the same feeling when my mom told us she was going to run a marathon.  She made the goal to run one when she was a little kid.  She was at the Days of 47 parade and watched a man crawl across the finish line.  I remember her training for months before the marathon in Salt Lake City and just a couple weeks before the race, she got sick with bronchitis.  With her running shoes and nasty cough, her and my dad left for Utah.  We knew she was ill and I wondered if she would be able to run.  Who was I kidding?  This is my mom we're talking about.  She came home with a huge, shinny medal with the word "Finisher" engraved on the back of it.

She walked down the stairs backwards for a week, but she accomplished her goal.  I remember thinking it was so cool she did it and I recall telling all my friends about it.  Looking at the 26.2 mile map, I thought it was impossible to do something like that.  Although I respected what she did, I knew there was no way I could ever do something like that.  I HATED running.  I always worked extra hard in practice because if we performed poorly in drills we had to run and I didn't want to have any part in that.  Shortly after my high school basketball season ended, I realized something was missing.  I wasn't competing in anything and it was killing me.  So I thought I would try this whole running business.  It was dreadful at the beginning.  I had to force myself to do it every day.  Then my mom signed Rylee and I up for a little run for breast cancer.  Upon finishing that race I was hooked.  Finishing a race was a high I had never experienced.  I took it slow at first.  I ran the SLC Half marathon in 2010 with my mom and a few of my cousins, aunt, and uncle.

The run was fun, but that summer I decided to try something I thought would present a different kind of challenge.

I did a triathlon back in California.  I started to really enjoy pushing myself (maybe a little too much) and doing the best I could.

Then in October I ran another half and I didn't feel the same sense of accomplishment that I had before.  So my New Years resolution was to run the SLC Marathon.  I did another half in St. George with my Aunt Karen and roommate Sadee in January, and then the training for the full began.

I was a wreck the whole week before my race.  It was finals week and I had to run 26.2 miles.  I was also a little bummed no one from my family was going to be able to be there, but I had Porter so I knew I would be fine.  I went to go pick up my bib at the convention center and when I turned the corner, standing there was my hero who started it all for me--my mom.  She had flown in and surprised me for the race.  On the morning of the race, I started to doubt myself.  "I can't do this, what was I thinking."  But my mom, Porter, and Trey continued to tell me I was fine.  I got to the starting line, a nervous wreck and heard the gun sound.  Butterflies had consumed my whole stomach but I continued to take baby steps and maneuver around other runners.  I caught up to my Uncle Darryl and Aunt Kim who were running the half.  I told them how nervous I was and they told me to stop worrying and wasting time trotting with them and go kick butt.  The nerves were gone after that.  I wanted to finish in under 4 hours and I did it in 3:48.57.  I was pumped.

Three weeks later I ran the Provo half with my roommate Alex and had Porter and his parents at the finish line cheering me on.  Just one month after that, I ran the Utah Valley Marathon with Porter.  We finished together and our families were at the end.  My body was shot after running 3 races in 7 weeks, so a break was mandatory.

Lots of people told my mom she was crazy when she ran her first marathon.  Lots of people told me I was crazy after all of my spring races.  I'm sure lots of people have told Charlie Wittmack he was crazy, but for some reason none of us listened.  Maybe it is because we have some sort of sick addiction to pain.  Or maybe it is because we like doing something most people are too afraid to attempt.  I'm going to say it's the feeling I get when I cross the finish line and I realize I just accomplished a goal that I had worked for.  Everyone should try it sometime, there is nothing quite like it.   

The Grumpy Old Man on the Metro

I have decided that living in the city is not for me.  There are people EVERYWHERE.  Cars are EVERYWHERE.  Tall buildings are EVERYWHERE.  It just isn’t really my scene.  As exciting and adventurous as it is to be out here in D.C., it will be nice to go back to my family and Porter in quiet, little Granite Bay.  

The other thing I don’t particularly care for in the city is the metro.  Actually the metro never bothered me…until today.

I was sitting by a man who was reading the newspaper.  Abby Wambach’s disappointed face was on the cover.  He noticed I was trying to slyly read the article over his shoulder when he said to me, “Sports are just a waste of time and money.  Has anything good ever come from them?  They just get you excited over a game and then it disappoints you.  Kids should worry more about school and less about games.”  Obviously he did not know that I was one of those kids, in love with soccer, who looked up to people like Wambach.

I’m a pretty chill person until you bash on people I love or things I care about.  Sports definitely fall in the category of things I care about.  There is no reason for me to write down exactly what I said…so let’s just say I shared my strong opinion with him in an even stronger manner.  

Has anything good ever come from sports?  Are you kidding me?  Only some of the greatest moments in history!  He obviously never saw Jordan drop 63, Derek Jeter get to 3,000 hits, or watch the USA hockey team win the gold in 1980.  Ignoring all that, sports teach you something you can’t learn in a classroom.  Sports teach you how to be a leader, how to work as a team, how to set goals, how to practice hard, and help define your character.  At least they did that for me.  I have met some of the most amazing people and learned some of the most important lessons in life because of sports.  

I looked at the newspaper again, back at Abby’s face, and I had seen that face a time or two before.  It was my face after losing one of the biggest games of my life in high school.  However, with those heart-breaking moments come some of the most rewarding and fulfilling experiences you can imagine.  In sports I experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. 

 I met some of my best friends who now I honestly think of as family.  Even though I no longer compete competitively in sports, I continue to learn from them.

Take this little one for example.

She is a stud soccer player.  I remember taking her out and passing with her on our patch of grass/weeds in Arizona and now she is a little all-star.  In fact, she was good enough to try out for a Comp team up in Northern California.  Not only did she get to try out, but she also made it.  To give you a perspective of how competitive it is, the team has its own college coordinator who is in charge of making highlight tapes and getting the girls scouted.  Rylee was so beyond excited when she made it.  Actually I think I got a phone call 2.4 seconds after she found out she was in.  

Then my parents went to the first team meeting.  They learned that they would have soccer tournaments, show cases, and practices every Sunday.  Rylee would only be able to go to church once a month if she was lucky and would probably never make it to mutual.  My parents left the decision up to her.  Now this girl loves soccer.  She had to decide between doing something she loves or being a part of something she believes in.  She decided to turn the offer down so she would be able to go to church.  Soccer helped teach Rylee the importance of living up to her standards.  No math class or chemistry test could have taught her that.

No grumpy old man on the metro, good things don’t come from sports.  Great things do.  They teach you what really matters in life.  Last time I checked, it was bouncing a ball on the hardwood that helped me become the type of person I wanted to become, not reading a social studies book.

Grandpa Knows Best

Yes, another shout out to another important boy in my life.  This one is a little different though.  After we got engaged, I sorta kinda got bombarded with text messages and phone calls to congratulate me and hear “the story.”  I am really bad at ‘getting back’ to people so why not get it all out in a post.  I figured since Porter is turning 22 on Sunday, why not tell our little story in a blog update.

Porter first grabbed my attention was I was a junior in high school.  I read his article in the New Era (I admit, I only picked it up because I thought it was an SI).

 

I thought he had a really cool story, but it was just one of those things you read about and get a warm feeling inside.  Needless to say life went on.  When I was moving out to Provo, I stayed with grandparents for a few days before I could get into my new apartment.  I was watching Sports Center with my Grandpa Gale when he asked me if I had ever heard of the one-armed LDS baseball player.  He told me that he worked with the young man’s Aunt and that he was going to be attending BYU.  He then brought out the old 2008 New Era and told me to look him up at school.  I distinctly remember audibly laughing at the idea of running into this kid.  “Grandpa,” I said, “there are some 30,000 students at BYU.  I will NEVER find that guy.”  He simply smiled as if he knew something I didn’t, set the magazine down next to me, and went off to bed.  I re-read the magazine and once again left it at that.

 

Fast forward to the end of fall semester.  I was sitting in my apartment one night watching Sports Center (I swear I do other things besides watch ESPN) when someone knocked on the door.  My roommate got up and answered the door and then invited the visitor inside.  I don’t even think I looked up from the T.V. when he asked me if I had any fast offerings to donate.  “Nope,” I said, “I turned it in with my tithing.”  He then followed up with another question about my Tennessee basketball shorts.  A tad irritated that someone was interrupting my date with Sports Center, I looked over at him and I knew I had seen him somewhere before.  We tried to figure it out for a second and then I saw he was missing an arm.  “Were you the kid on the New Era?” I asked.  He shyly acknowledged that he was.  We then had an hour conversation about all of our favorite teams, players, etc.  It didn’t take long after that night for us to become friends.  We went to ball games together, shot around, and debated sports as often as we could.  We started to date and it got even better from there. ***Shout out to my roommate R-beck who was with us during every phase of our relationship and without her, probably would have never happened.***

I remember telling my family I was dating Porter and immediately the Facebook and YouTube stocking began.  Kirk thought how he played ball was legit, Rylee, of course, found every flaw she could, and Derek just seemed like he wanted me to be happy.  I started to go with Porter to his inspirational speaking engagements and so when he had to speak at his nephews baptism, I agreed to go to that too.  This meant I was meeting the fam.

Timeout: Porter has 6 kids in his family.  5 girls.  If you are bad at math that means Porter is the ONLY boy.

Game on: I was super nervous.  I had been told that dating an only boy was dangerous.  In fact, I had personally witnessed the demolishing of a girl who was dating a boy who had all sisters. His sisters tore her up.  On top of that, Porter had told me they were all super tough.  So yep, I was scared.

I met Monique first.  I remember going to her apartment in Vegas. Porter was teasing me a little bit and it was in my nature to fire back a witty comment.  I paused after I said it thinking, “oh crap, his sister is going to hate me,” only to have her start busting up and continue to give Porter a hard time.  She was legit and it only got easier from there.  All of his sisters were so beyond nice to me.  And to my astonishment, his parents were even more kind.  They welcomed me into their home as if I was on of their own.  They were one of the most amazing families I had ever met.  Falling in love with Porter was easy and falling in love with his family was even easier.

As things progressed, it came time for Porter to ask my dad for “permission.”  We took a trip out to GB for Derek’s graduation and after an extremely long interview, Porter got my dad’s blessing.  There were quite a few people who were nervous for Porter when they found out he was going to talk to my dad (including myself).  Why you ask?  Probably because I know my dad cares about me a whole heck of a lot and he can be a little bit intimidating.  I recall watching “Father of the Bride” with him on several occasions and every single time he cried in it, dreading the day his daughters would get married.  For those of you who haven’t seen it, it is most definitely a comedy and you are only supposed to cry from laughing super hard, not because it is sad.  I was relieved that Porter got his permission and it was comforting to know that all my dad cared about is that I was going to be cared for.  When we got back to Provo, I called to let my mom know we had arrived safely.  When I went to hang up she said to me, “you really couldn’t have picked a better young man.”  She was right.  Then again, she always is.

   

We went back out to Granite Bay after spring term and made our way down to San Francisco for a Giants game.  Rylee and her best friend Cierra tagged along.  Porter had been acting super weird for a couple of days, but I assumed he was just sad because I would be leaving for two months to go work out in D.C.  After the game we walked down this walkway in the stadium where the San Francisco Bay is on one side and the field is on the other (my two favorite things on both sides…the ocean and sports).  I turned to look out over the field and point something out to Porter and when I turned back around…boom, there he was down on one knee.  I said yes and on the two-hour drive home I don’t think I could have stopped smiling if I had tried and Rylee couldn’t stop talking about how she wanted a pretty bridesmaid dress.

That puts us back up to speed.  We are getting married April 28^th, which will be plenty of time to plan a killer wedding.  I probably have the best wedding planning crew ever.  I have Rylee, who faithfully watches ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ and has already created a “wedding to-do list.” I have my mom who does a great job planning EVERYTHING. Then there are my mom’s “bridge” friends who have already volunteered to help out. I am pretty confident in saying it will be one heck of a party.  I probably couldn’t be more excited to spend forever with my best friend.  I think as long as we don’t play one on one or ping-pong against each other too often, we will be one happy couple.  There has never been a person who has made me want to be better like Porter has.

Moral of the story?  Listen to your Grandpa’s words of wisdom because they pick out excellent husbands.  My Grandpa is one of the most incredible men I have ever met and I am so blessed to have him and my Grandma as examples in my life.  I remember telling my Grandma one day that when I grew up I wanted to marry someone just like grandpa.  She smiled and gently explained to me that Grandpa wasn’t “that way” when she married him.  As amazing as Porter is right now, I don’t doubt that he will continue to become an even more incredible person.

Happy birthday Port, love ya.

 We were grizzlies together....

 ...and now we are both GB Alum.

Always playin' in the dirt.

Yep, still in the dirt.

Just trying to be like Rick and a tribute to the brosha

I have never really been into this whole blogging thing, but when my sports writing icon (Rick Reilly) said that all journalists and journalism students should have a blog, I signed up.  Mr. Rick Reilly is the reason I decided (when I was just 6 years old) that I wanted to be a sports writer.  I read one of his articles out of Sports Illustrated that my dad gave to me while I was in the hospital and have dreamed of taking Reilly's place on the back cover.  Some day it's gonna happen.

I guess before I never thought I would have much to say, but life right now could not get anymore exciting.  I just got engaged to the best guy in the whole world.  I know everyone says that when they are getting married, but let's get real.  When I say it, it's true.  I'm also back in Washington D.C. right now livin' it up amongst the important people for the summer.  Even though I have discovered that I would never really want to live on east coast (California is the only way to go) it has been pretty cool working out here.

As exciting as everything is right now, I have to dedicate this first post to my baby brother, Derek.  He just turned 18 this past week.  On his birthday I did not have much going on at work so I started to think back on all of the things I have done with him.  I remember watching him hammer the tiles on our front steps when he was like 4, jump two kids on his razor scooter when he was 7, chip his front tooth while trying to juggle a bat when he was 10, get the priesthood when he was 12, go with him to his first dance when he was 14, go on a his first date (with Skinny) when he was 16, and then graduate from high school as 17 year old punk.  And now he is only one year a way from going on a mission.  Once that thought crossed my mind, I almost started to cry (and by almost I mean not even close, but it sounded heart felt).  I can't wait to spend a whole year with him at BYU and I am even more excited to see what he will be doing a year from now.  He is a great kid and I am lucky to have had him with me all of these years. 

Here are just 18 lessons we have learned together:
1. Don't throw baseballs as high as you can to each other because you lose them in the sun and end up breaking windows.  And dad doesn't appreciate broken windows.
2. Slowing down does not count as stopping at a stop sign.
3. Even though we are white, with a little help from youtube and E-40 you can become the coolest kids on the dance floor.
4. Having a yellow car makes it very easy for everyone to spot you on the road.  Namely the parentals and the po-lice.
5. Putting little sisters down laundry shoots doesn't always end well.
6. Shooting your little brother doesn't always end well.
7. Don't spill your kool aid at the table because then mom will break a ketchup bottle all over your face.
8. Don't kidnap ducklings...you can't take care of them like the momma duck can.
9. When you are told that someone has experienced a nasty fall on a long board, listen to them because they are not joking.
10. You should always wait until the frost on your windows melts before driving. Otherwise you back into polls.
11. When mom tells you not to ride your bike down the street, listen, or you wind up with a broken arm.
12. iPods don't handle the washing machine too well.
13. Mopping the garage floor is, in fact, the stupidest chore ever.
14. Wash dad's car the right way the first time, otherwise you will have to do it a second.
15. Dipping your head in the pool does not count as taking a shower.
16. You can't actually flip all the way around on a hammock, you will brake your collarbone.
17. All important life lessons can be learned from watching Rocket Power.
18. Having your sibling as one of your best friends is the coolest.

Love ya, bro. Let the good times continue.