tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14025456152356766152012-06-10T12:34:01.713-06:00The Life of a Traveling Teacher, Triathlete, and MarathonerStephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-5763616185787987502012-06-10T12:29:00.002-06:002012-06-10T12:32:27.898-06:002012-06-10T12:32:27.898-06:00Eleventh Race in 2012<br />
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As of today I have 11 days remaining in Mexico. This morning appropriately was my 11<sup>th</sup>
race in Mexico in 2012. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fov_hyAnsNE/T9TmekKhSnI/AAAAAAAAAoE/nnMzjaYiW58/s1600/June+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fov_hyAnsNE/T9TmekKhSnI/AAAAAAAAAoE/nnMzjaYiW58/s640/June+10.jpg" width="640" /></a> There’s only one
race remaining; the Father’s Day race on June 17<sup>th</sup>. It’s such a bitter sweet feeling. I am so overjoyed to be returning to my hometown,
Yuba City, California, my family, and my friends. I am, however, sad to be leaving Mexico because
this is where I have called “home” for the last two years. Although this may not sound like a long time
to others, it is here I’ve remained the longest since first leaving my hometown
in 2003. In the past nine years I have
lived in eight different locations. </div>
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Mexico first made an imprint on my heart back in 2001 when I
traveled to Tijuana on a mission’s trip. Now Mexico has made an even greater imprint on
my heart. It is here in Mexico that I’ve
healed, grown, and changed my lifestyle.
I first arrived to Torreon in August 2010 broken, lost, and unhealthy. Now, in June 2012, I am leaving repaired,
found, and healthy. </div>
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A huge part of me redefining my lifestyle has been finding
the joy in running. If you would have
told me in March 2011 that I, Stephanie, would one day use the words “joy” and “running”
in the same sentence I would have laughed and called you crazy. Why do I love running races so much? Hmmm… let me count the ways: </div>
<ul>
<li>1)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span>The camaraderie amongst the fellow runners. Very often runners will cheer each other on
as they’re running side by side, offer to share fuel, and congratulate each
other once they cross the finish line.
Just today I had a male runner who stuck with me the entire five
kilometers. In the remaining push to the
end we both exchanged a glance and then began to sprint until we reached the
finish line. Once we crossed the finish
line we smiled and shook hands.</li>
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<li>2)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span>The benefits enjoyed from running. Although I had been going to the gym for a
year, it wasn’t until I started to run that I truly began to see such a difference
in my body. My lung capacity, my weight,
my heart rate, and my physique were all greatly affected.</li>
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<li>3)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span>The SWAG. (Thanks to Kat I just recently learned
this means “stuff we all get”.) Here in
Mexico every time you finish it is very common to receive a medal, a shirt, Gatorade,
juice, and fruit. A fun event complete
with SWAG and friends for about 10 USD… can’t get much better than that!</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>4)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span>The ability to unleash my competitive side in a
safe environment. Anyone who knows me will
attest to the fact that I am quite competitive.
I can make almost anything a competition. When I run races I am competing against my
previous times, my friends, and every other runner that’s around me. It’s these competitors that keep me pushing through
the heat, the thirst, the pain, the hunger, and the burning lungs. </li>
</ul>
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How long will I continue running? As long as my body lets me. There are just too many great races to be run
to stop now. One can always better their
time, find a new challenge, run in a new location. For this week I am choosing to remember each
step I take, listen to each breath I breathe, and take in all of the remaining sights
and sounds that Torreon has to offer. (Yes,
even the smog and graffiti.)</div>
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<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FZTlwzBBo1M/T9TnXQ5ngDI/AAAAAAAAAoM/ZwUGBo4kPp8/s400/click+here+to+donate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
My next BIG challenge is the Nike Women's Marathon. I’m
training to run this marathon for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to raise
life-saving funds to help those fighting blood cancers. <b>Please help!</b> You can
donate to my event at: <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells">http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells</a> <i><span style="color: black;"> </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: black;"> No donation amount is too small. </span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span><b>Check out my journey from obese couch potato </b></span>
</span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span><b>to marathoner by clicking <a href="http://wellsstephaniek.blogspot.mx/2012/03/journey.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b></span></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-576361618578798750?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-69948047800406011202012-06-06T18:48:00.003-06:002012-06-06T18:51:02.173-06:002012-06-06T18:51:02.173-06:00Happy National Running Day!<div align="left">
Happy National Running Day! Truth be told, I would have
never known about National Running Day had it not been my awesome
friends at Dailymile. I love Dailymile because it allows me one spot to
track my workouts, be encouraged by others, and have a sense of
community with like-minded people.</div>
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Well... I suppose I better go head out for a run. It is National Running Day afterall. Here's why I run...</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VYGLqxH0-WI/T8_6Gcf6cJI/AAAAAAAAAn4/ltdLwOozugY/s1600/national+running+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VYGLqxH0-WI/T8_6Gcf6cJI/AAAAAAAAAn4/ltdLwOozugY/s400/national+running+day.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Why do YOU run? (Or why do you WANT to start running?)</b></div>
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4EDlx3Az9yk/T8_6DLHQimI/AAAAAAAAAnw/a2HsDp04_nQ/s320/click+here+to+donate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
**
Don't forget to please support my fundraising efforts for the Leukemia
and Lymphoma Society by donating. No donation amount is too small.
Also, please share my page with everyone you know. Many thanks! **<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Check out my journey from obese couch potato </b></span>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>to marathoner by clicking <a href="http://wellsstephaniek.blogspot.mx/2012/03/journey.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-6994804780040601120?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-84503848433536076342012-06-05T21:40:00.000-06:002012-06-05T21:41:30.620-06:002012-06-05T21:41:30.620-06:00First Half Marathon<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKeIcT2wPhI/T87NoqSKjyI/AAAAAAAAAnc/wJ_6Im-pUII/s1600/IMG_7517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eKeIcT2wPhI/T87NoqSKjyI/AAAAAAAAAnc/wJ_6Im-pUII/s320/IMG_7517.JPG" width="320" /></a>Most people first complete a half marathon and then a
marathon, but not me! This last Sunday,
June 3<sup>rd</sup>, four friends and I completed the 21k Coahuila half
marathon! We left Torreon Saturday
morning via rental car and drove the three hours to Saltillo. We checked into our hotel, picked up our race
gear, and then relaxed for the remainder of the day.</div>
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The next morning I had my alarm set for 5:15am. I got up, took a shower (I had to take a
shower BEFORE the race in order to do my Spice Girl’s do), and then got all of
my race gear on. We started walking to
the starting line at about 6:15am. After walking the approximately 12 blocks to
the starting line, we were greeted by a sea of bright orange and green
shirts. It’s a good thing we decided to
be original and dress up like the Spice Girls.
Marissa was Baby Spice, I was Scary Spice, Carissa was Posh Spice, Kat was
Sporty Spice, and Taryn was Ginger Spice.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0ehAfgtVI8/T87Kg_oVuDI/AAAAAAAAAl4/RxYf67rusXo/s1600/IMG_2915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y0ehAfgtVI8/T87Kg_oVuDI/AAAAAAAAAl4/RxYf67rusXo/s320/IMG_2915.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_AhgmhOxBTM/T87KfeQNBPI/AAAAAAAAAlw/6j6tQVdrFOQ/s1600/IMG_2911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_AhgmhOxBTM/T87KfeQNBPI/AAAAAAAAAlw/6j6tQVdrFOQ/s200/IMG_2911.JPG" width="150" /></a>After a bathroom stop, it was soon time to head to the
starting line. I usually remain calm all the way up until it
comes time to get in the line-up. It is
at this point that my heart begins to race and I get that nervous feeling down
deep in the pit of my stomach. Although
I normally only stand in line for about 10 minutes (or less), it always feels
like so much more! </div>
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Bang! The gun is shot
and we’re off. Well, we’re not off. Only the people in the front can start when
the gun goes off. The rest of us are
left to be herded like a bunch of cattle across the starting line. It’s a good thing we wear chips, because if
we didn’t our time would have been two minutes slower. Two minutes was how long it took for our feet
to cross the starting line.</div>
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It didn’t take long for us to basically get a slap across
the face in the form of a monstrous hill that lasted nearly the whole first
three miles of the race course. It was
then that I knew I was in for a real treat.</div>
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I took advantage of the downhill, leaned back, and allowed
gravity to do its job. Sadly, once again
the course flattened and all of the sudden my legs felt like two huge stumps of
lead. It was then that we were cutting
through small, narrow, downtown streets lined with supporters hollering,
clapping, and shouting, “Vamos Scary Spice.”
I felt a little surge to go faster.</div>
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Shortly after the half-way point two women passed me and
asked who Scary Spice was. I answered
and heard a laugh behind me. Much to my surprise
I turned around and saw Marissa. Shocked
I asked, “What are you doing here? I
thought I lost you a long time ago.”
Marissa responded that she had been behind me the whole time, lost me
for a bit on the downhill, but then caught back up to me. Her words were something to the effect of, “The
course started downhill and all of the sudden you took off!”</div>
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Marissa and I continued on together for only a little bit
until the urge to go to the bathroom became too much for me to bear. (Soon after the gun went off I felt the need
to go to the bathroom, but I had been hoping that I could make it to the finish
line without needing to stop.) Marissa
commented, “Why don’t you just go behind that wall?” as she pointed to the wall
along the street. I notified her that I
would have, had this urge to use the bathroom did not require the use of toilet
paper. I spotted a 7-eleven outdoor
bathroom and off I went.</div>
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Before I knew it I was headed back onto the race
course. (A small part of me hoped that
other runners did not look at me and think, “She cheated.” I hoped that they would just assume that I
went off to use the toilet.) I was
hoping to maybe catch back up to Marissa, but sadly this never happened.</div>
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With about 3km to go until the finish line, I assumed we were
done with hills. I reasoned, “Surely the
race committee would not design the course to include a hill at the end. Sadly, I was wrong. Although the last hill was nowhere near as brutal
as the first, it was still brutal enough to make me think, “I’m dying!” </div>
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I had told myself that I was going to continue jogging no
matter what. There was a point, however,
that I wondered which would have been faster; my snail-like jog or a brisk
walk. Alas, I chose the snail-like
jog. Normally I try to sprint it to the
end. Although I picked up my pace a
little, it was nowhere near my usual sprint.
I had nothing more in me. I had
left it all out on the road.</div>
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Going into the race I was hoping for a sub 2 hour time. After seeing the last hill I knew that it was
going to be just out of my reach. I
finished with an official chip time of 2:06:27, but since I stopped my Garmin
when I went to the bathroom I choose to think of my official time as 2:04:23. With the higher elevation and the hills to
take into consideration, I am satisfied with my time. Here are everyone’s results: </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7xSWlWG1EM/T87KjO6grCI/AAAAAAAAAmI/69Vq1VCcKh8/s1600/baby+spice+finish+line.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7xSWlWG1EM/T87KjO6grCI/AAAAAAAAAmI/69Vq1VCcKh8/s320/baby+spice+finish+line.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">#2636 Marissa </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">18-34 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">1307 / 3036 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">165 / 739 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">76 / 346</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">40:43</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">02:03:43 </span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JK5thpJ-7wc/T87LIPJx0EI/AAAAAAAAAnE/p4Z5AwdSYFI/s1600/scary+spice+finish+line.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JK5thpJ-7wc/T87LIPJx0EI/AAAAAAAAAnE/p4Z5AwdSYFI/s320/scary+spice+finish+line.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">#2629 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Stephanie </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">18-34 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">1405 / 3036 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">1</span><span lang="ES-MX" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">79 / 739 </span></div>
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<span lang="ES-MX" style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">82 / 346 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">40:33</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">02:06:27 </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcCWFMVcekE/T87LHXatozI/AAAAAAAAAm8/sUmJt4H4AvQ/s1600/posh+spice+finish+line.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rcCWFMVcekE/T87LHXatozI/AAAAAAAAAm8/sUmJt4H4AvQ/s320/posh+spice+finish+line.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"> #2728 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Carissa <u><span style="color: blue;"></span></u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">18-34 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">1967 / 3036 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">338 / 739 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">156 / 346</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">45:47</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">02:19:44 </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfaV-6JDBHM/T87LI17sv2I/AAAAAAAAAnM/ebGQfO92axI/s1600/sporty+spice+finish+line.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZfaV-6JDBHM/T87LI17sv2I/AAAAAAAAAnM/ebGQfO92axI/s320/sporty+spice+finish+line.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">#2666 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Kat </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">18-34 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">2246 / 3036 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">434 / 739</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">51:59</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">02:28:45 </span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8U5nS2YBKY/T87KjoKc6hI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/zmJ-FKpHS1Q/s1600/ginger+spice+finish+line.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i8U5nS2YBKY/T87KjoKc6hI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/zmJ-FKpHS1Q/s320/ginger+spice+finish+line.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">#2690 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Taryn </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">18-34 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">2334 / 3036 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">470 / 739 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">222 / 346</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">50:00</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">02:32:11 </span></div>
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(bib #, name, age
category, rank among everyone, rank among women, rank among age category, time
at 10.5k, and official chip finishing time)</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I’m training to run a marathon for the Leukemia
& Lymphoma Society to raise life-saving funds to help those fighting blood
cancers. Please help! You can donate to my event at: </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells</span></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8XghT26D2f4/T87PNqLBtwI/AAAAAAAAAnk/8XtcR8rMsCE/s640/click+here+to+donate.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Don't forget that you may also check out my journey from obese couch potato </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>to marathoner by clicking <a href="http://wellsstephaniek.blogspot.mx/2012/03/journey.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-8450384843353607634?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-23863932764776133982012-05-19T15:36:00.000-06:002012-05-21T19:57:10.431-06:002012-05-21T19:57:10.431-06:00My Next Goal<br />
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I cannot believe that more than two months have passed since
my first marathon! Since then I have ran
5 races (3 10ks and 2 5ks).</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xm0_a9c55QU/T7gRaJ9agfI/AAAAAAAAAjk/BzQOFXnHhws/s1600/5+races,+in+10+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xm0_a9c55QU/T7gRaJ9agfI/AAAAAAAAAjk/BzQOFXnHhws/s640/5+races,+in+10+weeks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The picture from April 29<sup>th</sup> shows just how crazy
I am! When people asked me, “Why are you
wearing a mask?” I answered, “Why not?!” Wearing a Lucha mask while running, may now
be checked off my bucket list.</div>
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Now I find myself preparing for the next big step… ending my
time living in foreign countries and heading home, back to California. These last two years in Mexico have been
incredible. I am returning a completely
different person than who left Cali in August 2010.
If you haven’t done so already, you should read about my “journey” here…
<a href="http://wellsstephaniek.blogspot.mx/2012/03/journey.html">http://wellsstephaniek.blogspot.mx/2012/03/journey.html</a></div>
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There are only a mere 33 days left here in Mexico until I
depart on June 21<sup>st</sup>. As I am
preparing, I have already started looking ahead at the next physical challenges
I may tackle in Cali. One event in
particular has caught my eye. This event
is the Nike Women’s Marathon (NWM) in San Francisco, California on October 14<sup>th</sup>. Yes, I loved my first marathon on March 4<sup>th</sup>
so much, that I am itching to complete my second.</div>
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I am excited about the NWM for several reasons:</div>
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<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"></span> 1) How empowering to know that I will be one of
25,000 women who will all be tackling the same challenge. It is all thanks to Katherine Switzer, the
first woman to officially enter and run the Boston Marathon in 1967. It was long believed that if women ran the marathon
distance their uterus would fall out! How absurd is this?! I, along with 25,000 other women, will confidently
run on the 14<sup>th</sup> of October knowing that our uterus is safe. </div>
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<br /></div>
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2)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"> </span>I’m running a marathon in my home state! Going from Torreon to San Francisco will be a
welcomed challenge. I’ll be going from a
flat, dry desert to a hilly, moist bay area.
What’s awesome is this race will be close enough to my hometown that my
family and friends will be able to come and cheer me on. </div>
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<br /></div>
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3)<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span>For the first time I will train and complete
this race on a team. This team is called
Team In Training. I will be training and
racing while raising funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society whose
mission is to cure leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin’s disease and myeloma, and
improve the quality of life of patients and their families. My goal is to raise $2,500. This may seem like a lot, but I know that
through my many awesome family members and friends it will be possible to
achieve this amount and even exceed it.</div>
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<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" target="_blank">Please go to my fundraising page and consider making a donation.</a> Every little bit is appreciated. (If you donate $50 or more, your name will
appear on my shirt the day of the race.) <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells">http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells</a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/sac/nikesf12/strongwells" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaLfAOjwNlk/T7ryTEptbqI/AAAAAAAAAlU/BT-FLRN_o_M/s640/team+in+training2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-2386393276477613398?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-26675312694248276132012-03-11T16:02:00.003-07:002012-04-19T17:04:07.051-06:002012-04-19T17:04:07.051-06:00The Journey<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dRbcBhp2SSg/T10h79KvZ9I/AAAAAAAAAgM/6Fej297zoBQ/s1600/20003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dRbcBhp2SSg/T10h79KvZ9I/AAAAAAAAAgM/6Fej297zoBQ/s200/20003.jpg" width="158" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1985</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"> My struggle with food, health, and weight has been a life-long journey. My first memory of my struggle with food, health, and weight was at the age of 10 years old. I was in fourth grade. I remember thinking that I was bigger than my peers, my mom had to cut the sleeves of my shirts to fit them over my arms, and I constantly thought about food. My first memory of my compulsive overeating was also at the age of 10 years old. </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03d-99FzVzk/T10h7LtquxI/AAAAAAAAAgE/YxgDyC_Ntm4/s1600/10002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03d-99FzVzk/T10h7LtquxI/AAAAAAAAAgE/YxgDyC_Ntm4/s200/10002.jpg" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1992</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"> I had won a king sized Reese’s peanut butter cup package and my mom had asked me to save half the package for my brother. I agreed. Before getting home, however, I quickly inhaled the entire package knowing full well that I was going to get in trouble, but I did it nonetheless. </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vnut0GQYd9c/T10h-1pydwI/AAAAAAAAAgk/708dwUi5sg0/s1600/50002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vnut0GQYd9c/T10h-1pydwI/AAAAAAAAAgk/708dwUi5sg0/s320/50002.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2000</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Fast forward two years and I was lying to my mom so that I could get my “sweets” fix. I told her that I needed a large package of candy for a class party. I then stashed it away in my room so that I could sneak a piece every so often to get “my fix”. Soon enough she found me out and questioned me about why I lied. Quickly I started babysitting so that I’d have my own money to go out and “get my fix.”</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nh81bUusgYE/T10kk-wywGI/AAAAAAAAAhM/RfPiD0Rk-zA/s1600/DSCN1266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nh81bUusgYE/T10kk-wywGI/AAAAAAAAAhM/RfPiD0Rk-zA/s320/DSCN1266.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I stayed pretty busy and active throughout elementary, middle school, and high school keeping somewhat physically active. Once in college, however, I quickly found “the freshmen fifteen” and then some. There are two things I remember: 1) my doctor telling me at 176 lbs. and 18 years old that I needed to lose weight 2) telling myself I would never get to the 200 lbs. mark. Unfortunately it did not take long into my adult years to find that 200 lbs. mark and surpass it.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiCwny0R0Ds/T10lHcGLHEI/AAAAAAAAAhc/U3ddIOlNBno/s1600/cute+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiCwny0R0Ds/T10lHcGLHEI/AAAAAAAAAhc/U3ddIOlNBno/s320/cute+1.jpg" width="120" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Before getting married at 20 years old I tried to quickly shed some pounds, but to no avail. Two months into my marriage I was thinking how I could find a few bucks without my husband knowing what I bought so that I could “get my fix” of sweets. A couple months before my one year anniversary I was trying the latest fad diet so I could shed some weight before our one year anniversary trip. Two years into my marriage I practically starved myself to shed a quick 26 pounds while going to university and working. Four months later I found those 26 pounds and a few more. I knew something had to change if I was ever going to overcome this battle with food, health, and weight.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xJXnxD8C264/T10htQ_c-TI/AAAAAAAAAfM/Dzzue6CLcDo/s1600/IMG_1189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xJXnxD8C264/T10htQ_c-TI/AAAAAAAAAfM/Dzzue6CLcDo/s320/IMG_1189.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec. 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I was on the computer and found myself typing in some words into Google. Soon I came across an organization called Overeaters Anonymous (OA). I had mixed feelings about OA. Did I really need something like this? Perhaps I have found the answer I have been looking for? The only way to find out what OA was all about was to attend a meeting. I promptly looked up my local chapter, called someone to confirm their meeting times, and attended my first meeting spring 2007. I left the meeting on a high. For the first time in my life I felt as though there were others who understood my constant struggle with food, health, and weight; mainly food.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MxXEOFcDFA/T10ofkmD0zI/AAAAAAAAAh8/3O3CM1UbHMs/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MxXEOFcDFA/T10ofkmD0zI/AAAAAAAAAh8/3O3CM1UbHMs/s320/005.JPG" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct. 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KKpD1UrN1ss/T10oNTwJUXI/AAAAAAAAAh0/QSqEvPER-3w/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Soon I found myself purchasing all of the OA materials I could get my hands on, applying the principles in my life, and turning to the other OA members in the local chapter for encouragement. I was by far the youngest in the group, but I felt accepted nonetheless. Similar to AA or NA, OA has their own 12 steps for compulsive overeaters to follow. A compulsive overeater, as defined by OA, is someone who has an unhealthy relationship with food. This compulsive overeater can starve themselves, binge, hide food, eat in secret, obsess about food, etc. Clearly I was, and still are, a compulsive overeater. </div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Although I am not currently a part of a local OA chapter, I do still remember and apply some of the OA principles to my everyday life. I acknowledge that I have a disease and must ask my higher power, God, for support. If I slip up with my recovery I try to not let it get me down. Instead, I remember that it is one day at a time, sometimes one minute at a time. I also recite the serenity prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GBDQYIa1Tew/T10pCzhFBfI/AAAAAAAAAiE/7t8WEm-GQ6w/s1600/IMG_4775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GBDQYIa1Tew/T10pCzhFBfI/AAAAAAAAAiE/7t8WEm-GQ6w/s320/IMG_4775.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nov. 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">After I found OA I never struggled with food, health, and weight ever again, right? Wrong. About a year later, during my divorce, I turned to my drug; food. I ate when I was sad, when I was angry, when I was grieving, etc. Quickly I found myself at an all time low. I was living in a foreign country, trying to grieve, and turning to all of the wrong things in the process. I was low emotionally, spiritually, and physically. </div><div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In my darkest days I found myself walking to Pizza Hut, trying to hide the pizza on my walk back so that no one would see me, and then locking myself in my apartment eating nearly the whole thing all by myself, all alone. I had a gym membership, but rarely went. I found every excuse there was; it was too hot, I had a headache, there was no time, I had nothing to wear, etc. When I returned to the states 13 months later my friends and family were shocked by what they saw. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">That year for Christmas, December 2009, my family bought a Wii as our family Christmas present. When I stepped on the Wii Fit Plus Christmas morning I was shocked by what I saw; 214 pounds. How did I let myself get here? What was I going to do to recover from this? I wasn’t sure, but I knew it had to be something or else I was going to die at a very young age. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xi-FkcvTtZE/T10qU5zgotI/AAAAAAAAAiM/PaRtL_UiSfU/s1600/Two+Year+Difference.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xi-FkcvTtZE/T10qU5zgotI/AAAAAAAAAiM/PaRtL_UiSfU/s320/Two+Year+Difference.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The very next morning I started watching what I ate (making better choices) and exercising regularly (walking, biking, strength training, etc.). Slowly, but surely the weight started coming off. By June of 2010 I was already down 25 pounds. In March 2011 I was down another 10 pounds, but now I needed something more to help keep me motivated and continue moving towards my goal to be healthy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In the winter of 2009 I had started training to complete a sprint triathlon in the spring of 2010. This plan, however, was put on hold when I moved to Honduras in February 2010. Fortunately, while in Honduras I continued working on my healthier life choices of watching what I was eating & working out at the gym. Summer 2010 I felt really good, but knew I still had more work to do. </div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pAOdDl4cOJU/T10qv6DKKvI/AAAAAAAAAiU/6nkskoUr4Js/s1600/swimming.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pAOdDl4cOJU/T10qv6DKKvI/AAAAAAAAAiU/6nkskoUr4Js/s320/swimming.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In March 2011, after turning 27, I realized I needed something more. On Sunday March 27 I woke up and asked myself, “What about the triathlon training?” I quickly got on the computer and started researching triathlons. That same day I found a training plan on beginnertriathlete.com and headed out on my first training run. I started out with running 3 minute increments at a time. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The next day I had my first swim training and by Tuesday I had my first bike training under my belt. The fire was lit and there was no stopping me. Before I knew it I was running 3 miles Saturday morning followed by 75 minutes on the spin bike. Soon I was down to less than 10 pounds to go before getting to my goal weight. The greatest part was that from March 27<sup>th</sup> to July 9<sup>th</sup> my goal was not weight loss. My goal was training for the most physically grueling thing I had ever done before. In fact, I hadn’t even realized how good of shape I had gotten in until I arrived back home to California and saw everyone’s reaction to me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sa8hJiCdWUY/T10rVp2p59I/AAAAAAAAAic/xQfxCfAFnYQ/s1600/triathlon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sa8hJiCdWUY/T10rVp2p59I/AAAAAAAAAic/xQfxCfAFnYQ/s400/triathlon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Little did I know that the triathlon was going to light a fire in me; a fire to run. After the triathlon I asked myself, “Now what?” I knew that I needed a goal in order to remain motivated to exercise. I’ve found that it’s more difficult for me to regularly exercise without having something that I am working towards. I therefore, set October’s Victoria 10k race in Torreon, Mexico as my new goal. Much to my surprise, however, my first of many 10ks came on August 28<sup>th</sup>. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I quickly became addicted; addicted to the high of running. I enjoyed running in the “carrerras” in Torreon because they were 1) cheap, only about $8 USD each 2) mostly came with a cool finisher medal and t-shirt 3) it was something I was able to do with my running buddies 4) made me feel accomplished 4) kept me on a path to a healthier me.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlTFW17Riqg/T10sCq9AkdI/AAAAAAAAAik/suGfD7uroCk/s1600/11+races+in+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlTFW17Riqg/T10sCq9AkdI/AAAAAAAAAik/suGfD7uroCk/s1600/11+races+in+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlTFW17Riqg/T10sCq9AkdI/AAAAAAAAAik/suGfD7uroCk/s640/11+races+in+2011.jpg" width="640" /></a>From July 9<sup>th</sup> through the end of 2011 I ran one sprint triathlon, six 10ks, and five 5ks. I was trying to make it to 11 races in 2011 and I made it! I was able to start 2012 a whole new me. To celebrate this whole new me I tried something new, a trail run. The 10k Resolution Run on January 1, 2012 was one of the toughest runs I had done yet, but I pushed myself and I placed first in my age group of 20 – 29 year olds. I was on a role and there was no stopping me!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VWwDhmqkNWQ/T10s4e_9ROI/AAAAAAAAAi8/u4UCh-bifL4/s1600/resolution+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VWwDhmqkNWQ/T10s4e_9ROI/AAAAAAAAAi8/u4UCh-bifL4/s640/resolution+run.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Next, I set my sights on a much bigger race; the Lala Marathon on March 4<sup>th</sup>. I had only started toying with the idea of running the full Lala Marathon on December 7<sup>th</sup>. Earlier in the fall I was thinking that I would just stick to a half marathon, but soon I got the crazy idea that I could do more. Could I prepare my body to run 26.2 miles in a mere 13 weeks? I thought, “If I am able to complete this marathon then I will have gone from 0 to 26.2 in 49 weeks!”</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KL6xQ2RE-v0/T10tYOpSqAI/AAAAAAAAAjU/oBQ913YhnMg/s1600/marathon+finish.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KL6xQ2RE-v0/T10tYOpSqAI/AAAAAAAAAjU/oBQ913YhnMg/s400/marathon+finish.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March 2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">At first I started with 9 miles, then 11, then my first half marathon 13.1 (in training) on January 6, then 15, 17, and finally my longest training run, 18 miles, on February 11. With 3 weeks to go until my marathon I trusted my training plan. Now came time to taper. I had completed the most difficult weeks of the training plan; the long runs. Still I questioned, “Can my body go an additional 6.2 miles past 18 miles?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Finally the day I had been working towards for the last 13 weeks finally arrived. I went into the marathon telling everyone that my only goal was to finish, but truth be told, I had a different goal in mind. I was aiming for 4 hours and 30 minutes, but knew that it might be closer to 5 hours. Half way into the race, 13.1 miles / 21k, I was at 2 hours and 4 minutes; my fastest half marathon yet! The question was, “What was going to happen to my pace during the next 13.1 miles?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I am so proud to report that I crossed the finish line at 4:32:45! When the finish line finally came into view I couldn’t help but throw my hands up and soak up every last stride, cheer, applause, and sensation. After I crossed the finish line I bent over, put my head in my hands, and started to cry. I, someone who only started running 49 weeks prior, just finished a race in which few have achieved.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My journey from a 214 pound unhappy woman to a 150 pound triathlete & marathoner has been a slow, but steady 26 month journey. How did I do it? Simple. I started moving and I never looked back. To me the trick has not been a magic pill, or a magic trainer, or a magic drink, or a magic surgery. My answer was exercise. When I exercise I feel better about myself. When I feel better about myself I eat less. Plain and simple. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Am I scared that I will once again be that 214 unhappy woman? Yes, a part of me is. Can I keep up with my current healthy lifestyle? Absolutely! My trick will be to keep a goal in mind. With a goal, I am unable to say, “Tomorrow I will exercise.” I know that when I put in the work I can show up to the starting line ready.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">This summer I am celebrating my 10 year high school reunion. Now, at 28, I am so much more confident, healthy, and wise than what I was at 18. If I could go back and tell my 18 year old self anything, I would tell her to continue exercising no matter what. I would say, “It doesn’t matter if at first you can’t jog, just walk. It doesn’t matter if at first you don’t know how to use the equipment at the gym, just ask. It doesn’t matter what anyone may tell you, just believe in yourself.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In the last 10 years I have gone through college, a failed marriage, a low, traveling the world, living abroad, and then a complete life transformation. I am where I am today because of my wonderful parents, brother, friends, and most importantly God. I was once hopeless, but now am hopeful. What’s great is I know that this is just the beginning. Honestly, I can say that I can’t wait to see where this journey takes me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nlx5Z7AhUYs/T10hvozDBFI/AAAAAAAAAfc/wZxNRUdiI94/s1600/Transformation+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nlx5Z7AhUYs/T10hvozDBFI/AAAAAAAAAfc/wZxNRUdiI94/s640/Transformation+7.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PP-N-_aoK1c/T10hu8hzw2I/AAAAAAAAAfU/4RicadRPzk4/s1600/Transformation+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PP-N-_aoK1c/T10hu8hzw2I/AAAAAAAAAfU/4RicadRPzk4/s640/Transformation+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZF09AI1UV4/T10hwrsPjOI/AAAAAAAAAfs/aZka0f5nmYc/s1600/transformation+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZF09AI1UV4/T10hwrsPjOI/AAAAAAAAAfs/aZka0f5nmYc/s640/transformation+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9u-WocWZGHk/T10hwGeJZtI/AAAAAAAAAfk/_yrQJ_-0yc4/s1600/Transformation+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9u-WocWZGHk/T10hwGeJZtI/AAAAAAAAAfk/_yrQJ_-0yc4/s640/Transformation+8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ghkiJgGON0/T10hyNIH4sI/AAAAAAAAAf8/UX8XPXiNBAA/s1600/transformation+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ghkiJgGON0/T10hyNIH4sI/AAAAAAAAAf8/UX8XPXiNBAA/s640/transformation+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RRE9wngLQDg/T10uXxqpz9I/AAAAAAAAAjc/i7AQrqLn5Tk/s1600/Transformation+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RRE9wngLQDg/T10uXxqpz9I/AAAAAAAAAjc/i7AQrqLn5Tk/s640/Transformation+5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-2667531269424827613?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-4096062081379477202012-01-21T17:34:00.000-07:002012-01-21T17:34:29.731-07:002012-01-21T17:34:29.731-07:00Future Marathoner?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/> <w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/> <w:OverrideTableStyleHps/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m9vt2kb5RJw/TxtZB4RCP5I/AAAAAAAAAfA/57m32J0iS4M/s1600/IMG_5348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m9vt2kb5RJw/TxtZB4RCP5I/AAAAAAAAAfA/57m32J0iS4M/s640/IMG_5348.JPG" width="363" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the finish line of my first trail run. 1st place women 19 - 29! Resolution Run 10k Jan. 1, 2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve gone from non-runner, to triathlete, to runner, to now training-to-be-a-marathoner!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have found that through this “journey” I am inspired the most when I have a goal to reach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First it was my sprint triathlon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I completed my sprint triathlon I was so depressed because I thought, “What’s next?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I find myself training for an event that about 1% of the US population as ever finished… a marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In case you did not know, that is 26 miles and 385 yards!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I first got the idea to do a marathon after completing six 10ks from August to December 2011.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The 10ks all of the sudden felt progressively easier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted something more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I downloaded a beginner marathon training plan in the beginning of December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a 16 week plan, but I only had 3 months until the March 4<sup>th</sup> Lala marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Could I do it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t sure, but I thought I’d go ahead and start on the training plan to see how far I could get.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On January 1<sup>st</sup>, 2012 I completed my first trail run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 6.2 miles of trails we climbed 862 feet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were times that the trail was so steep that we were forced to walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pushed myself and ended up coming in first place in my age group of 19 – 29 year old women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of the most challenging runs yet, but nothing compared to how I felt after crossing that finish line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again I thought, “What’s next?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Today, January 21, 2012, I ran my longest run to date… 15 miles!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The emotions I went through during these 15 miles were incredible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the beginning I felt great!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the middle I thought, “I can’t believe I’m really doing this!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end my mind was riddled with self-doubt, “You can’t do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look how tired you are right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What were you thinking?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When push came to shove, I finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a brutal last .2 miles, but I did it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">"Tough times don't last but tough people do." <b><i>A.C. Green</i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a new runner whose favorite quote used to be, “This body doesn’t run,” I’ve realized how much running is a mental test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This morning I wasn’t there mentally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you aren’t tuned into your run mentally it’s hard to keep pushing through the fatigue, the pain, the self-doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I still have a difficult time thinking of myself as a “runner”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When does one officially become a “runner”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it after completing a marathon?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does one become a “runner” after a certain amount of months / years of running?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will I continue to run the rest of my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it something that will eventually bore me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will races continue to excite / motivate me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So many questions, but that’s ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Running has completely transformed my body, my thinking, my beliefs, and I love it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now I am taking one day at a time, one step at a time, one mile at a time.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">"Most people run a race to see who is fastest. I run a race to see who has the most guts." <b><i>Steve Prefontaine</i></b></div><b><i></i></b><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-409606208137947720?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-6618371906154098432011-09-10T14:02:00.002-06:002011-12-10T14:24:21.245-07:002011-12-10T14:24:21.245-07:00First Race, First Sprint Triathlon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g7aHiCErSVg/TuPJleuVU6I/AAAAAAAAAcY/xjeK9t0Dlps/s1600/IMG_1455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g7aHiCErSVg/TuPJleuVU6I/AAAAAAAAAcY/xjeK9t0Dlps/s320/IMG_1455.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In early 2010 I had started training to complete a sprint triathlon in the April of that same year. This plan, however, was put on hold when I moved to Honduras in February 2010. Fortunately, while in Honduras I continued working on my healthier life choices of watching what I was eating and working out at the gym. Summer 2010 I felt really good, but knew I still had more work to do. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> In March 2011, after turning 27, I realized I needed something more. On Sunday, March 27 while living and working in Mexico, I woke up and asked myself, “What about the triathlon training?” I quickly got on the computer and started researching triathlons. That same day I found a training plan on beginnertraithlete.com and headed out on my first training run. I started out with running three minute increments at a time. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> The next day I had my first swim train and by Tuesday I had my first bike train under my belt. The fire was lit and there was no stopping me. Before I knew it I was running 3 miles Saturday morning followed by 75 minutes on the spin bike. Soon I was down to less than 10 pounds to go before getting to my goal weight. The greatest part was that from March 27<sup>th</sup> to July 9<sup>th</sup> my goal was not weight loss. My goal was training for the most physically grueling thing I had ever done before. In fact, I hadn’t even realized how good of shape I had gotten in until I arrived back home to California and saw everyone’s reaction to me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I could not believe that I, someone who would not consider herself an athlete, was about to complete something that not many have done; a triathlon. The triathlon I signed up for was a .5 mile swim, 16 mile bike ride, and 3 mile run. This is what the triathlon world calls a “sprint triathlon”. There are Olympic triathlons which are double the size of a sprint, half Ironman triathlons, and the mother of all triathlons, the Ironman triathlon, which consists of a 2.5 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run! Will I ever complete an Ironman? Doubtful, but who knows, right?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The morning came for my triathlon and I was nervous, but I knew I had done everything in my power to train. I put in the time in the pool, on the track, and on the bike. I had stuck with my training plan and even exceeded it. Going into the triathlon I knew my most difficult leg would be the swim. I had only taught myself how to swim freestyle a mere few months previous to the triathlon. I knew I could swim the distance, but I knew that it wouldn’t be entirely using the freestyle stroke and it most certainly would not look pretty.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I went into the triathlon with two goals. First, I wanted to run the entire three miles without stopping. Second, I did not want to come in last. I thought that there might be a possibility of placing within the top five of my category after looking at past years’ results, but I did not want to get my hopes up too high. I decided to race in the Athena division, which is women who are 150 pounds and heavier. My friends thought I was crazy for racing in the “big girl” division because they did not consider me to be a “big girl”. I, however, knew that I did not have any chance of racing with the fit females in my age division.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">The morning of my triathlon had finally arrived. I was extremely nervous, but knew there was no turning back. My wonderful and supportive mom woke up at 5am to drive me the nearly two hours to the race sight. I tried to stay calm and positive, but it was really difficult. Unfortunately my nerves got the best of me and I was at times a little “short” and irritated with my mom. This is still something I am working on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9JzLOy1ZrkA/TuPJpJH307I/AAAAAAAAAcg/A2-WbRm7r8g/s1600/IMG_1456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9JzLOy1ZrkA/TuPJpJH307I/AAAAAAAAAcg/A2-WbRm7r8g/s320/IMG_1456.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>As we got closer to Rancho Seco Park we started seeing cars with bikes attached on top, clearly others who were going to same place as us. My stomach was in knots. I was excited, nervous, scared, and thinking, “What am I doing?!” We followed the line of cars into the parking lot at about 6:45am, found a place to park, and started unloading my things. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I looked around me and saw men and women of all different shapes and sizes. Some looked like professional triathletes and others looked like me, a novice. Still I wondered, “What am I doing?!” As I was getting marked I lost grip of my bike and it tipped over. Other than being a little humiliated, nothing was hurt. I had on my 80 dollar tri shorts yet still I felt as though I stuck out like a sore thumb as someone who had no idea what they were doing. Where were my friends? Where was my support system?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EN71oNSJpVs/TuPLuPVXvtI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/xQhIv5JsJI8/s1600/IMG_1912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EN71oNSJpVs/TuPLuPVXvtI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/xQhIv5JsJI8/s320/IMG_1912.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>After making a quick phone call, I found them. Biz and I started setting up our transition area. I laid my towel down and set my shoes, my socks, my headband, my watch, and my sunglasses on top. After that was all set up Biz and I headed over to the line at the port-a-potties for one last potty break. I stood there and tried to act calm, but my insides were anything but calm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I had about 30 minutes until my start time and Biz was only down to about 10 minutes until her start time. We decided, therefore, to head out for a quick little warm-up jog. I was willing to try just about anything to help calm my nerves. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
Next it came time to cheer Biz on as she started. Biz’s start time was about 30 minutes before mine party due to the fact that she was racing the duathlon (3 mile run, 16 mile bike, 3 mile run) and also due to the fact that I was in the last wave to start the swim portion. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_S_i_HlFc0/TuPL1-UV1sI/AAAAAAAAAeg/5Y5xWu4JSAk/s1600/IMG_1915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_S_i_HlFc0/TuPL1-UV1sI/AAAAAAAAAeg/5Y5xWu4JSAk/s320/IMG_1915.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B6o7PIGLFl8/TuPLysnd2iI/AAAAAAAAAeY/gZL-e3jIbes/s1600/IMG_1913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B6o7PIGLFl8/TuPLysnd2iI/AAAAAAAAAeY/gZL-e3jIbes/s320/IMG_1913.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Finally it was time for me to put on my wetsuit and head down to the water. I went back and forth about whether or not to wear a wetsuit for the triathlon. I did not have a wetsuit and was going to have to either buy one for well over $100 or rent one for about $40. I chose to rent one. Even though I had practiced putting on and taking off my wetsuit, this still proved to be difficult. Eventually I remembered how to squeeze into my wetsuit. Down to the water I went.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dgR39PVVNjQ/TuPL42ii3FI/AAAAAAAAAeo/tqok-rNMhFo/s1600/IMG_1930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dgR39PVVNjQ/TuPL42ii3FI/AAAAAAAAAeo/tqok-rNMhFo/s320/IMG_1930.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>One of the fun parts about wearing a wetsuit is feeling the water as it slowly creeps in between your body and the suit as you step into the water. I swam back and forth a couple of times trying to remember what I learned in my two open water swim classes. I also took this time to take in my surrounds and let it soak in that I, someone who would not consider herself an athlete, was about to complete her first race, her first triathlon!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">As I walked / swam to the start area with the other Athenas, women 40 years old and older, and the relay teams I still could not believe that I was really doing it. I had been training hard for 15 weeks and it had finally arrived. I stood there waiting and must have adjusted my goggles at least 15 times. Bang! I was off. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-74Z-NT5ftNE/TuPJ2pInqXI/AAAAAAAAAdI/12Mc-_qRe2U/s1600/IMG_1470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-74Z-NT5ftNE/TuPJ2pInqXI/AAAAAAAAAdI/12Mc-_qRe2U/s320/IMG_1470.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Going into it I knew the swim portion was going to be the most difficult, but I truly had underestimated just how difficult it was going to be. I started out strong, maybe a little too strong. With every breath I looked at the person next to me, the fury of bubbles all around, and the commotion of legs and arms everywhere. The further out I got, the more freaked out I became. I have a fear of open water and on this day this fear became crippling. I no longer could put my face in the water. I tried countless number of times, but I just could not get my breathing under control. Sadly I spent the remaining 20 minutes “schooling”.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuF1clUKYgE/TuPKBKQnBnI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/draQMLPXJO4/s1600/IMG_2265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XuF1clUKYgE/TuPKBKQnBnI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/draQMLPXJO4/s320/IMG_2265.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>I rounded buoy number one and was one third of the way through. I looked behind me and was thankful that I was not last. The shore line was quite a ways in the distance. Although I was breathing heavily, kind of freaking out about being in the middle of the lake, there was still a sense of calm about not being in the midst of the flurry of bubbles, arms, and legs. As I was slowly making my way through the swim I came up on a woman who started in the wave before me, five minutes sooner. I thought I was hurting, but she was hurting even more. I gave her a few words of encouragement and continued on.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">When it was finally time for me to exit the water I could not have been happier. I turned to the woman next to me and gave her a high five. Later my parents asked if I knew who she was but I said, “Nope. I was just so elated that I had made it through!”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aUSnzf-cZus/TuPKMpVL5MI/AAAAAAAAAdY/oX7Ly8BtNzI/s1600/IMG_2267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aUSnzf-cZus/TuPKMpVL5MI/AAAAAAAAAdY/oX7Ly8BtNzI/s320/IMG_2267.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I tried to run my way up the muddy grassy exit, but I was already exhausted. I quickly took off my wetsuit and slapped on my socks, shoes, helmet, number belt, and sunglasses. I was thankful that the bike was next because I knew I had this. I had been working hard on my bike training and knew it was going to be the easiest out of the three legs. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">If I could have changed anything it would have been having a different bike. The bike I was using was my dad’s. It was a man’s mountain bike and not meant to be used as a woman’s road bike. On this day, however, it was going to be just that. I was able to pass people on the up hills, but on their road bikes they quickly zoomed past on the down hills. I had not practiced outside on hills which proved “fun”, but fortunately they weren’t too bad.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">One thing that helped me remain constant with my speed on the bike was using the digital odometer on my dad’s bike. It showed me the mileage and the mph. I am proud to report that I averaged 14.3 mph and topped out at 22 mph on a mountain bike no less! I didn’t quite meet my average mph of 16 mph goal, but I blame the hills and wind. At the half way point I almost kept going straight because I was surprised that it was already time to start heading back. Overall I was extremely proud of my performance on the bike especially considering my first leg’s performance. I was hoping for an hour or less. I made it in a little over an hour.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M8yh0ujKmCQ/TuPNA5iNBFI/AAAAAAAAAew/YCIRmOO-8Ck/s1600/IMG_1494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M8yh0ujKmCQ/TuPNA5iNBFI/AAAAAAAAAew/YCIRmOO-8Ck/s320/IMG_1494.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>The encouragements I heard from the volunteers made me smile. I especially liked hearing, “Wow! Way to go mountain biker!” I think they were surprised to see how fast I was able to go using the mountain bike.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My first transition was a little slower than I had hoped, but I lit up my second transition. I was in and out of there in no time! Quickly my bike was racked, my helmet was strung over the handle bars, and off I ran out of transition. I was so stoked that I only had one leg left. I was more than half way through!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tq6JCxYm8UE/TuPNV1DUj9I/AAAAAAAAAe4/RIAYgY2hfGw/s1600/IMG_1959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tq6JCxYm8UE/TuPNV1DUj9I/AAAAAAAAAe4/RIAYgY2hfGw/s320/IMG_1959.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>As I was first coming into transition I saw Biz and thought that she had already finished, but no, she was getting ready to head out for her final run also. About 100 yards into the run I caught up to her, checked in, but then continued trudging on. The run, similar to the bike, was not what I was used to. It was on a dirt road with several ups and downs. This didn’t seem to faze me very much, however, because I was running and running strong. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Once again I was pleasantly surprised when I made it to the turnaround point. I was almost finished. I felt tired, but strong. A high like no other surged through my body and pushed me through to the end. On the run back I cheered for each person I passed which gave me even more fuel to make it to the end. Soon the finish line was within my sight. I sprinted to the end. I had every intention to raise my arms in victory as I crossed the finish line, but in the moment I forgot all of that. I was just so filled with excitement that I had finished and finished strong. My parents met me, gave me a big victory hug, and then we snapped several pictures. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l8COeU8MihU/TuPKn6bfn8I/AAAAAAAAAdw/XAHMozLRl4o/s1600/IMG_2274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l8COeU8MihU/TuPKn6bfn8I/AAAAAAAAAdw/XAHMozLRl4o/s320/IMG_2274.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRRj1jm6EQ4/TuPKdqQwkEI/AAAAAAAAAdo/J_F3jXBB0vc/s1600/IMG_2273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRRj1jm6EQ4/TuPKdqQwkEI/AAAAAAAAAdo/J_F3jXBB0vc/s320/IMG_2273.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zYBr6cERDqY/TuPKvS8vprI/AAAAAAAAAd4/LV7ViQLdS5g/s1600/IMG_2275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zYBr6cERDqY/TuPKvS8vprI/AAAAAAAAAd4/LV7ViQLdS5g/s320/IMG_2275.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>We cheered Biz through the finish line and then we snapped some more pictures. Had I really just completed a sprint triathlon? Had I really just secured myself a “triathlete”? It was so great to have Biz, Aaron, HT, mom, and dad all there to share in this experience. Mom and dad bought me a Jamba Juice and HT bought me an awesome TRI sticker. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My swim was much slower than expected, the bike a tad slower than expected, and the run a little faster than expected. In fact, my run really surprised my dad. When I headed out for the 3 mile run my dad told my mom that they had plenty of time to sit and relax before I would make it back. My mom, however, doubted this. Sure enough my dad was wrong because about 25 minutes later my mom spotted piggy tails bouncing in the distance, realized it was me, shouted for my dad to snap a picture, but because I came sprinting in, I beat my dad to the finish line. It was fun to know that I surprised my dad by how fast I ran the 3 miles. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">My finishing time was 2:02:05. I had been hoping for about 1:50:00, but the swim really hurt my time. I, however, was still very proud of myself for sticking with it, training hard, and finishing!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PPAIz5r-_KM/TuPK93fVhDI/AAAAAAAAAeI/ess3qrkqnN4/s1600/IMG_2280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PPAIz5r-_KM/TuPK93fVhDI/AAAAAAAAAeI/ess3qrkqnN4/s320/IMG_2280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>After hanging out for a bit at the race site, we all headed our separate ways. Mom and I headed out for a lunch and shopping. I stayed energized due to the high the race gave me up until about four o’clock when I suddenly hit a brick wall. Needless to say, I slept on the ride back home. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Have you ever heard of a post-race low? I hadn’t until I experienced it the next few days. I had just finished something that I had been working hard to accomplish the past several months. I found myself asking, “Now what?” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Fortunately, the low didn’t last long and I headed back out to improve my running. Since completing the triathlon I have found myself starting to really enjoy running. I ran my first 10K race seven weeks later. My goals for the future? Possibly a marathon in the spring of 2012 and another go at the same sprint triathlon summer 2012. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"> “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-661837190615409843?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-33133718260308196942011-07-06T14:55:00.005-06:002011-07-08T21:57:46.323-06:002011-07-08T21:57:46.323-06:00Only 3 days to go...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXcAv2zQzYo/ThfRa1dW6EI/AAAAAAAAAcU/6FDouGuriVc/s1600/wetsuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sXcAv2zQzYo/ThfRa1dW6EI/AAAAAAAAAcU/6FDouGuriVc/s640/wetsuit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-3313371826030819694?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-20551408026293001192011-06-23T10:38:00.007-06:002011-06-24T17:00:26.389-06:002011-06-24T17:00:26.389-06:00Couch to 100 miles in 3 months<div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qdQ9FIcdLm8/TgNqe81lSDI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/pIUOuaxs4Y4/s640/Choice.jpg" width="640" /></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;">I can not believe that a mere 3 months ago I was just an average gym attendee doing basically the minimum that would make me feel as though I was doing "something". When I started training for my first sprint triathlon, that all changed. I started running on March 27th, 2010 and today, June 23rd, 2011 I have completed 102 miles total in running alone. The picture above was taken right after my three mile jog with my marathoner friend. It was a rough one this morning and I wanted to stop, but I made the <u><i><b>choice </b></i></u>to keep picking up my feet. A big thanks to Marissa who helped to keep me going. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-2055140802629300119?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-54165154028127697612011-06-18T14:01:00.001-06:002011-06-18T14:06:49.763-06:002011-06-18T14:06:49.763-06:00Three More WeeksThanks to two wonderful ladies, this morning I ran the farthest and longest I have ever run! I ran for a total of 64 minutes! I’m guessing it was about 5.5 miles (perhaps a little less). Although this wasn’t my first time running with others, this was my first time to talk and run. It was so enjoyable to have the distraction of talking / listening while running. It kept my mind preoccupied so that I wasn’t able to focus on, “I can’t do this. I’m tired. I want to stop.”<br />
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I woke up this morning quite nervous about the run. I thought that their pace might be too fast for me, I wouldn’t be able to go the distance, my breathing would be off, etc. Surprisingly, however, just the opposite was true. Their pace was quite nice, I was able to nearly double the distance I am use to, and my breathing was so spot on that I was able to join in on the conversation!<br />
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On top of the high from running, I biked for 80 minutes, and then saw a number on the scale that I hadn’t seen in about 10 years! Last Saturday I was feeling a little discouraged since there was a gain of a pound (I blame it on the previous night’s long “happy hour”). This week’s 3.5 pound loss, however, more than made up for it!<br />
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Three weeks from today and I’ll be in my gear swimming, biking, and running in my first ever sprint triathlon! I can’t wait to cross that finish line and call myself a “triathlete”!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2RCLyhBxiIU/Tf0FDRiUvyI/AAAAAAAAAcM/DFEAdiw2T48/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2RCLyhBxiIU/Tf0FDRiUvyI/AAAAAAAAAcM/DFEAdiw2T48/s320/IMG_1462.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biking around Isla Mujeres in April 2011.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-5416515402812769761?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-74103907162067941902011-06-09T10:26:00.001-06:002011-06-09T13:38:41.205-06:002011-06-09T13:38:41.205-06:00Triathlon Training<blockquote>That’s it. I’m addicted. I’m addicted to the excitement, the high, the people, the joy, the thrill, the unknown, etc. What is it that I’m addicted to? It’s the world of triathlons. Have I completed my first triathlon yet? No. But the moment I cross that finish line on July 9th, 2011 I know that I will be a full-blown addicted triathlete. </blockquote><blockquote>I have toyed with the idea of completing a triathlon ever since winter / spring 2010 when I found out that some of my friends had successfully completed triathlons of their own. I thought, “I could do that!” I didn’t get the motivation to start training, however, until March 27th, 2011 when all of the sudden I asked myself, “What are you doing? What are you waiting for?” That same day I joined beginnertraithlete.com, found a training plan, and headed out for my first training run. </blockquote><blockquote>To start I was only able to run for about 8 minutes before feeling as though I was going to die. Yesterday, however, 10 weeks into my training I ran for 34 minutes straight for a total of 3.26 miles. The wonderful part of it all is this was completed after my 45 minute swim training. During the run I felt calm, comfortable, and in control. Three months ago I never thought this was possible. </blockquote><blockquote>Websites I now regularly check include runnersworld.com, traithletecompetitor.com, and of course beginnertriathlete.com. I read articles, join forums, and watch videos all related to the triathlon world. I’ve learned so much, but know I still have so much more to learn. </blockquote><blockquote>One of the things I enjoy about the sport of triathlons is that there are three different events involved; swimming, biking, and running. This allows me to mix it up throughout the week so that I do not get bored doing the same thing day in and day out. Someone once asked me which event I enjoyed the most and my response was, “It’s hard to say because each event has its pros and cons. I like them all.” </blockquote><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLPNNXkNKDM/TfDyjv2O0OI/AAAAAAAAAbs/V_psaGpPGc4/s1600/IMG_8639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PLPNNXkNKDM/TfDyjv2O0OI/AAAAAAAAAbs/V_psaGpPGc4/s320/IMG_8639.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">running</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xUIbXWH9Rg/TfDyulMt2lI/AAAAAAAAAbw/A_XnTpihOWM/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xUIbXWH9Rg/TfDyulMt2lI/AAAAAAAAAbw/A_XnTpihOWM/s320/IMG_0058.JPG" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">biking</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7F_26Dw3DXI/TfDywS5lmZI/AAAAAAAAAb0/5IdTFbvCMTM/s1600/swimming.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7F_26Dw3DXI/TfDywS5lmZI/AAAAAAAAAb0/5IdTFbvCMTM/s320/swimming.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">swimming</td></tr>
</tbody></table><blockquote>I am so excited and nervous about my upcoming Triathlon (exactly one month away), so much so that my dreams have been taken over by triathlons. Last night I dreamt mostly about the open water swim portion. I dreamt that the swim course was a straight out and back. I did not have a wetsuit, but still found myself quite calm and smooth in the water. The swim went very smoothly and so did transition 1. This was all that I remembered. </blockquote><blockquote>I feel more confident in my body than I have in a very long time. I have my training to thank for that. With running, biking, and swimming I do not have a choice about eating healthy or not. Whatever I put in my body is how my workouts are fueled. A year and a half ago I was out of shape, obese, and not very happy in my own skin. Today I have shed 43 pounds, am starting to see some definition, and am feeling quite confident. I look forward to seeing where else my triathlon journey takes me.</blockquote><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-7410390716206794190?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-35715785791135746492011-05-15T11:39:00.000-06:002011-06-09T10:39:48.837-06:002011-06-09T10:39:48.837-06:00Cancun Recap<iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/p6b-VrVLPvE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-3571578579113574649?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-73417971676512563792011-04-20T02:14:00.002-06:002011-06-09T10:35:49.420-06:002011-06-09T10:35:49.420-06:00Exercise Makes ALL the Difference<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cwGTwPpytpY/Ta6TZI9tcsI/AAAAAAAAAbY/XGAcXtL09X4/s1600/IMG_1289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cwGTwPpytpY/Ta6TZI9tcsI/AAAAAAAAAbY/XGAcXtL09X4/s320/IMG_1289.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting at the bus station for our bus to Monterrey, Mexico.</td></tr>
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First of all, what better way to blog than to blog on the balcony of a beach-get-away condo?! Currently my friends and I are on a two week vacation in Cancun. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take this opportunity to get a little blogging in. Now on to the true point of this blog… <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Amj4bYwBsd8/Ta6UGUf07gI/AAAAAAAAAbc/k0IqN-RxkFg/s1600/IMG_1315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Amj4bYwBsd8/Ta6UGUf07gI/AAAAAAAAAbc/k0IqN-RxkFg/s320/IMG_1315.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day in Cancun.</td></tr>
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Last week I weighed myself at the gym and I am now officially the slimmest I have been since I graduated high school. It feels so good! I am now more confident in my body than I ever have been. My question is, “What has made the difference.” The answer in my experience thus far is, “Exercise!”<br />
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I enjoy eating and do not take pleasure in restricting myself from eating the things I want to eat. We all know that in order to lose weight one must burn fewer calories than they consume. Therefore, I must burn calories in the form of exercise in order to create a daily caloric deficit. Over the last three weeks I have been training for my first sprint triathlon. Therefore I have been swimming, biking, and running at least two times a week. On top of my triathlon sports training I have been having dance practice for the talent show (see video below), going to the occasional Zumba class, and strength training at least three times a week. Needless to say, it’s no wonder I am the healthiest I have been in quite some time.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5RZh1D2q3ow" width="425"></iframe><br />
<br />
Has my eating changed that much? I would say a little, but not as much as it could. Here’s a typical day’s meal: <br />
<br />
Breakfast <br />
1 Yakult <br />
1 banana <br />
1 granola bar <br />
<br />
Lunch <br />
½ prepared bag of Caesar Salad <br />
1 skinless, boneless chicken breast <br />
1 string cheese <br />
½ cucumber <br />
1 diet coke <br />
<br />
Snack <br />
1 cup edamame <br />
<br />
Dinner <br />
½ prepared bag of Caesar Salad <br />
1 cup of white rice <br />
3 scrambled eggs <br />
8 cherry tomatoes <br />
chopped green onion <br />
<br />
Some of the biggest differences in my diet would be an increase in vegetables and a decrease in processed foods and sweets. I have learned that I cannot say that I will never eat another sweet nor processed food ever again because this is unrealistic. Also, when I restrict myself from eating the things that I want to eat I then binge on those foods. But, if I allow myself a little here and there I am less likely to binge. <br />
<br />
Another part of my healthy habits lately is my ability to control my compulsive overeating. I am not hiding food. I am not binge eating. I am not starving myself. I am not obsessing about food. I am eating when I am hungry and stopping when I am full. When I go out to eat I do not finish my plate just because it’s there. Will I never have to worry about compulsively overeating again? No. But, can I go into the future confident that I am now more educated and prepared to deal with my compulsive overeating? Yes. <br />
<br />
I am in the best shape of my life and am enjoying every moment of it. For the first time in a long time I can confidently walk on the beach in my swimsuit knowing that I have worked hard to look like this and I look good. Will I ever be the skinny gal flaunting her thong bikini? No, because it’s not in my genes to be skinny. (Also, I would never wear a thong bikini.) But, will I continue to look good and look even better when I get to my goal weight? Absolutely! <br />
<br />
Finally, I know that God has played a big part in helping me to become the “healthy” me. It is Him who has helped me with my compulsive disease. It is Him who has given me the motivation to work out. It is Him who is helping me to feel more confident with myself. God plus exercise = health. Thank you God.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MgdDBBCbKPc/Ta6UrYqA0sI/AAAAAAAAAbg/VOvPcCaazaw/s1600/IMG_1318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MgdDBBCbKPc/Ta6UrYqA0sI/AAAAAAAAAbg/VOvPcCaazaw/s320/IMG_1318.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-7341797167651256379?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-51381737938704249142011-04-10T06:28:00.000-06:002011-04-10T06:28:31.125-06:002011-04-10T06:28:31.125-06:00Before and After<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-36TWPSOHcXE/TaGhDjRLaSI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/9c3GDPlWKH8/s1600/IMG_4804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-36TWPSOHcXE/TaGhDjRLaSI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/9c3GDPlWKH8/s320/IMG_4804.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Before" November 2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table> I stepped on the scale yesterday at the gym and was elated. I currently weigh the same that I weighed back in October 2006 when I lost about 25 pounds very rapidly in a very unhealthy way. This time around I have lost 38 pounds and have done it slowly just with exercising and trying to be smarter about the food that I put into my body. I am currently the healthiest I have been in my adult life. I am very proud of myself!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XeP0o3Hjje8/TaGhMKJi79I/AAAAAAAAAbU/iMMZyHKEHmI/s1600/IMG_0764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XeP0o3Hjje8/TaGhMKJi79I/AAAAAAAAAbU/iMMZyHKEHmI/s320/IMG_0764.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"After" February 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-5138173793870424914?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-21567989341627271522011-04-04T21:05:00.001-06:002011-04-10T06:17:10.621-06:002011-04-10T06:17:10.621-06:00Chinese Influence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeMi96Q5T8k/TaGd7bZZ6mI/AAAAAAAAAbI/nIPgQ1OJO-k/s1600/IMG_1266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VeMi96Q5T8k/TaGd7bZZ6mI/AAAAAAAAAbI/nIPgQ1OJO-k/s320/IMG_1266.JPG" width="235" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LWdWQ8mKf5o/TaGeDk8WxgI/AAAAAAAAAbM/KFV3pv74uW4/s1600/IMG_1265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LWdWQ8mKf5o/TaGeDk8WxgI/AAAAAAAAAbM/KFV3pv74uW4/s320/IMG_1265.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>What have I taken from China? A lot. Tonight's Chinese influence, however, came in the form of food. One of my favorite meals while living in China consisted of scrambled eggs and tomatoes over rice. There was a fast food place about five minutes from my house. I would go and order this meal at least two times a week. Tonight I made it myself, changed it up a bit, and it was SO delicious! I used cherry tomatoes which gave it a bit of sweetness. I even asked my roomie to snap a picture of me. And yes, I did indeed eat with chopsticks.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-2156798934162727152?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-34871446006682202252011-03-10T14:55:00.000-07:002011-03-10T14:55:14.547-07:002011-03-10T14:55:14.547-07:00Glittered ThoughtsI sometimes wonder why in the last 7 months I have not written very much. Is this a good thing? Is it because I am being more of a “social” person? Is being a “social” person good? Are there too many thoughts in my head with no escape? What changes have been made from last year to this year that has caused the decline in writing? <br />
<br />
I have, indeed, been spending more time with people and less time alone. When I’m with others I am not able to be alone with my thoughts to be spewed onto paper. My roommate is awesome, which is good, but instead of writing in my bedroom I would rather spend time with her in the living room talking. Also on the weekends I am always busy whether it is attending soccer games, going to the movie theatre, hanging out at Starbucks, etc. The good part is that I have found time to record a few songs. I will, however, try to find more time to write because it is something I love to do and it feels good for my soul. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-oBSJNSgwqXU/TXlGNrVcUqI/AAAAAAAAAaU/6rAy7p2SIrk/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-oBSJNSgwqXU/TXlGNrVcUqI/AAAAAAAAAaU/6rAy7p2SIrk/s640/IMG_0013.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you tell that it is "mis-match" day?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>With this being said, I will write a little about my experience teaching here in Mexico. One of the joys of teaching EFL students is the amount of deciphering one must do. (Not just with EFL students, but I can imagine with all young students.) For example, I just had a student come up and ask me, “Up and down, or like this (while pointing from side to side.)” With this question alone I had no idea what he was trying to ask. Therefore, my thought process went something like this: <br />
<br />
"What is he referring to? Okay, it is a math test. What is he trying to do on the math test? Okay, he is trying to solve a word problem and write a number model. He must want to write the number model vertically similarly how he would solve the problem on paper. "<br />
<br />
I answered, “Side to side.” <br />
<br />
With this he was satisfied, thanked me, and walked away. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mC4WOWFh3Qw/TXlGQueXjFI/AAAAAAAAAaY/4R3Sk6XlGnM/s1600/IMG_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mC4WOWFh3Qw/TXlGQueXjFI/AAAAAAAAAaY/4R3Sk6XlGnM/s640/IMG_0027.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating our "100th" day of school!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>On this same day I assigned them a Thursday “work day”. Essentially it was 40 minutes worth of centers, but sometimes I prefer changing the name from “centers” to “work day” so the students know that they are suppose to work instead of just play. One of the five stations was to finish their Mardi Gras masks from Tuesday. This involved students putting glue on their construction paper masks. On Tuesday I controlled the glitter by staying next to them, but today I figured I would see how they would do on their own. Boy, I had no idea what kind of mess they were going to create! <br />
<br />
About 30 minutes in to the “work day” I walked over to the glitter station and was flabbergasted at what I found. It looked as though the glitter had exploded and then a tornado came through. Very calmly I called for an emergency halt to all activity and asked all students to gather around the glitter station. Before speaking I took a few deep breathes in and repeated to myself, “Calm, calm, calm.” I then proceeded to ask, “Why have I called all of you over here? Please raise your hand to answer.” <br />
<br />
I was surprised by how solemn the students were, my ability to remain calm, and in the end, the students’ genuine look of remorse. I explained to them how I had bought the glitter and it upset me that they would disrespect and waste something that I had bought. I understand that most of my students come from wealthy families and don’t understand the concept of money, but I also believe that they have the ability within them to try to begin to understand the concept that items cost money. In the end I assigned a handful of students to clean up the mess and try to salvage as much glitter as possible. We finished cleaning up the mess, the students packed up their things, and left for the day. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-8urqhgtdQcQ/TXlGaxxx6ZI/AAAAAAAAAao/15WEhZSYCvw/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-8urqhgtdQcQ/TXlGaxxx6ZI/AAAAAAAAAao/15WEhZSYCvw/s640/IMG_0046.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showing off their St. Patrick's Day art project.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
A mere 10 minutes later while sitting at my desk waiting for students to come in for after school tutoring a little sister of one of my students ran in through the open door and said, “Ms. Stephanie!” She ran up to me with arms open wide, swung them around me and gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek. Her name is Viviana. She wears glasses, has long brown hair normally in pig tails, and the cutest smile ever! It’s moments like this and little girls like her that make me love my job. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mSbb5sm_Uio/TXlGdcRvptI/AAAAAAAAAas/fz8YLAjOBeY/s1600/IMG_0051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-mSbb5sm_Uio/TXlGdcRvptI/AAAAAAAAAas/fz8YLAjOBeY/s400/IMG_0051.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This student misspelled my name. I shouldn't be surprised, however. She misspells even her own name!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-97yKOz2Kig4/TXlGqqhqIKI/AAAAAAAAAa8/7-AMKGTtH5Y/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-97yKOz2Kig4/TXlGqqhqIKI/AAAAAAAAAa8/7-AMKGTtH5Y/s640/IMG_0060.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I hope to write more soon. Until then, enjoy every moment and take time to stop and appreciate the little things.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-3487144600668220225?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-89171083629479507142011-02-27T16:43:00.000-07:002011-03-10T13:44:40.830-07:002011-03-10T13:44:40.830-07:00Better Than a HallelujahEnjoying a beautiful song on a beautiful day while on the roof.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Ei8Nl-xp3es" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-8917108362947950714?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-17652179079466058762011-02-02T19:50:00.003-07:002011-02-02T19:51:14.640-07:002011-02-02T19:51:14.640-07:00Valentine<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="560" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JCr91JwLUwU?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-1765217907946605876?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-8104668868737148882010-11-12T11:21:00.000-07:002010-11-12T11:22:23.224-07:002010-11-12T11:22:23.224-07:00Ms. Stephanie, Elementary TeacherTo be an elementary teacher is an unique profession. Do you remember the days when you were once an elementary student? Well I do. There was a distinct smell in the air. One of snot, spilled milk, dirt, and freshly sharpened pencils. <br />
<br />
Now, as a teacher these smells still evoke strong emotions, but perhaps of a different kind. It still reminds me that I have work to do. It still makes me feel young. But most importantly it reminds me that I am in charge of 20 little ones; academically, socially, emotionally, and physically. <br />
<br />
Sometimes I have to stop and smile. I can honestly say that I have such a great group of kids. Although sometimes they make me want to pull my hair out, I can appreciate each one of them for what they teach me.<br />
<br />
I used to think that elementary teachers taught elementary because they were not smart enough to teach something more ´´difficult´´. Boy, was I wrong. Being an elementary teacher is quite challenging. There is so much to think about, prepare for, and check. <br />
<br />
To keep my sanity, however, I remember to still participate in my favorite hobbies; going to the gym, learning new languages, writing, and playing the guitar. These help me to be ready for the next time one of my kids has a scraped knee, has had their pencil stolen, or doesn´t understand what to do. <br />
<br />
Yes, the smell of snot, spilled milk, dirt, and freshly sharpened pencils reminds me that I am Ms. Stephanie, third grade teacher to twenty wonderfully unique boys and girls.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TN2EK3R6uFI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/p5NuNiVmByo/s1600/IMG_9602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TN2EK3R6uFI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/p5NuNiVmByo/s640/IMG_9602.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TN2EOqdS23I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/DpXHiN-rvtw/s1600/IMG_9603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TN2EOqdS23I/AAAAAAAAAZ8/DpXHiN-rvtw/s640/IMG_9603.JPG" width="640" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-810466886873714888?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-69019327270422372032010-11-08T11:04:00.000-07:002010-11-08T11:04:53.241-07:002010-11-08T11:04:53.241-07:00No Hay Otro NombreHere is a song that I prepared and sang for my Spanish class last Thursday after school. Kari Jobe is one of my favorite artists. I love how God is the same in any language. No sweeter name than Jesus!<br />
<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_fI4mXpJA0M?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_fI4mXpJA0M?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-6901932727042237203?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-3170586038000567882010-11-07T11:00:00.003-07:002010-11-07T11:52:16.853-07:002010-11-07T11:52:16.853-07:00Parras, not Paris<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbtcDrdzTI/AAAAAAAAAZo/a-sshJIMnZs/s1600/IMG_9735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbtcDrdzTI/AAAAAAAAAZo/a-sshJIMnZs/s320/IMG_9735.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our rental car.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>One of the greatest things about working at an American International school in a foreign country is that you celebrate most U.S. holidays as well of the local country’s holidays. Basically you have a lot of days off. No complaints here! <br />
<br />
Our latest holiday was “Dia de Los Muertos” (Day of the Dead). We were able to enjoy a joyous four day weekend. Some teachers chose to take an overnight bus to the beach, I did not. Instead my friend Megan and I decided to rent a car and take a day trip to a nearby city called Parras. <br />
<br />
This city is pronounced like Paris except you must roll the “r”. The difference to a foreign ear, such as my own, is quite minute. I made the mistake of confusing the two cities one day when one of my third grade students said to me, “Miss I am going to Paris this weekend.” <br />
<br />
I responded, “Oh really?” <br />
<br />
He explained, “We are leaving Friday and coming back Sunday.” <br />
<br />
With a look of confusion I nodded my head and smiled while thinking that this poor child must have been lying. After school I ran into the boy’s father and told him what his son had told me. He laughed and explained that they were not going to Paris, but instead Parras. It all made so much more sense to me. <br />
<br />
I was quite nervous about renting a car and driving a car in Mexico, but in the end it all worked out quite nicely. The drive was only about 2 hours each way. While in Parras we met up with four other teachers who were spending the weekend there. Together we enjoyed a hike to a church on a hill, a visit to the aqueducts, a natural spring water pool, a wax museum, and a tour of the oldest winery in North America. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbuKB9h1TI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Rna0ZiTkzbE/s1600/IMG_9756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbuKB9h1TI/AAAAAAAAAZs/Rna0ZiTkzbE/s320/IMG_9756.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Megan and I after our hike up to the church on the hill.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We got back into town around dinner time, called up some friends, and asked where they wanted to go since we had a car. It was a crazy night for the four of us girls. We chose to take a trip to Carl’s Jr. and HEB. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbwetn0emI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/VoBJPjWBrjU/s1600/IMG_9803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbwetn0emI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/VoBJPjWBrjU/s320/IMG_9803.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainbows, how I love you!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbvestrw6I/AAAAAAAAAZw/dJF1DjzP3zk/s1600/IMG_9786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_4_wcdN8iFIs/TNbvestrw6I/AAAAAAAAAZw/dJF1DjzP3zk/s320/IMG_9786.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yummy... gorditas!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The next morning before dropping the car off I took a detour to Starbucks. I was even able to go through the drive-thru! It was very difficult to turn the car back in. I truly miss having a car and have thought several times about having one here. Then I remind myself that it is too dangerous to have a car here especially as a foreigner, a car is not a necessity here, and I don’t want to have the cost of having a car here. <br />
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All in all a great relaxing weekend. Perhaps we’ll have to rent a car again sometime!<br />
<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UijijKGTy9s?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UijijKGTy9s?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-317058603800056788?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-31445685110748235792010-11-06T17:28:00.000-07:002010-11-06T17:28:06.949-07:002010-11-06T17:28:06.949-07:00Me and MexicoIt has been way too long since I have updated my blog. First, I was restricted from updating due to a censored China, then I was preoccupied with completing my travelogues, now I have no excuse. Actually, I will claim that my excuse is my new job assignment. I am now a third grade teacher for an International school in north central Mexico. This is my first "real" teaching job. I am three months in and am loving it. I have been, however, quite busy with grading, lesson planning, and more grading. <br />
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Long story short... I will try to write more and keep my blog updated. While you are waiting for me to post a blog, check out my travelogue from Honduras at the bottom of this page.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-3144568511074823579?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-22722228361935435202010-02-26T17:59:00.001-07:002010-02-26T17:59:34.483-07:002010-02-26T17:59:34.483-07:00A New Adventure BeginsJust as my title suggests, I am now starting a new adventure in Honduras. How did I get here you may ask? Well, February 4th through the 7th I traveled to Waterloo, Iowa for the University of Northern Iowa (UNI) recruiting fair. The UNI recruiting fair is an annual event for credentialed teachers to find a job placement at an International school overseas. After spending a year in China I wanted to see more of the world. So, I decided to spend about $1,000 to travel to Iowa to try to secure a job overseas.<br />
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I was really nervous about finding a job since I had less than two years teaching experience and was narrowing the field down to either Spanish or Chinese speaking countries. However, I knew that there was still a chance for me to secure a job at the fair if I went in with an optimistic outlook and convinced schools that I would be a great asset. <br />
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Before leaving for the fair I tried to prepare by reading the monthly UNI newsletters and participating in the candidate chat pages on the UNI fair website. Although both provided me with some good information, I still felt incredibly unprepared. I decided to find a roommate to share my hotel room with while at the fair to help defer some of the associated costs. This scenario of sharing a room with a complete stranger also made me a little weary.<br />
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The week leading up to the fair I was a complete mess. I tired holding it together but eventually lost the battle one night while trying on business clothes for my mom to approve of. My mom asked me a question similar to, “What are you thinking right now” and I just lost it. I stood in my newly bought blouse and brown suit pants sobbing. My mom proceeded to grab a box of tissues, sit me down in a chair, and console me for the next 20 minutes. I was frustrated by my inability to fully be at peace with whatever the outcome of the fair might be. I was trying to put my trust in God, but still was struggling to do it completely. <br />
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My mom asked, “How would you feel if you came back from the fair without a job?”<br />
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I immediately responded with tears whelming up in my eyes, “Devastated.”<br />
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It is difficult to explain the urge I have to travel overseas. I joke about having “the travel bug” but it is so much more than that. While in China I was looking forward to coming back home. I was looking forward to spending time with family and friends, eating authentic Mexican food, understanding all that surrounded me, etc. This excitement of being back home, however, only lasted for about a week. Then, I was researching where I wanted to go to next. <br />
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I never thought that I would miss China, but I sincerely missed a lot about China. Every time I looked at the pictures of my students back in Guangzhou I had a pang deep inside my heart. I missed my apartment. I missed the lifestyle I had while in China. I missed the adventure, the challenge, and the people I met every day that shared my same passion for travel. I had to realize, however, that now I was back in California, back to reality.<br />
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I felt as though going to the UNI fair was my one and only chance to continue living and teaching abroad. I knew that the UNI fair wasn’t my only option for what I was possibly going to do in the future, but it was the option that I wanted the most. Two of my other options included finding a full time teaching position locally (difficult due to the current economic situation) or go back to school full time to earn my Master’s (difficult while maintaining a sense of independence and financial freedom). Therefore, the UNI fair was what I was counting on.<br />
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My mom ended our talk with a prayer. She prayed that God would just calm my nerves and remind me that He loves me, knows the desires of my heart, and has a plan for my life. I won’t say that at that moment all of my nerves immediately disappeared, but my mom’s talk certainly made me feel better. I love my mom so much and feel so blessed by what she does all the time for me. This is one of the reasons why she is my “From” a mix between a “friend” and a “mom.”<br />
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In the end, not only did God provide me with a two-year contract in Torreon, Mexico for 2010 - 2012 but He also provided me a job in San Pedro Sula, Honduras for the rest of school year 2009 - 2010! Why do I doubt how great He is? <br />
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In fourth grade when Mrs. McClendon was my teacher I decided that I wanted to be a teacher and that I wanted to travel the world. Fortunately I have been able to stay in contact with this wonderful teacher of mine. As I was asking for prayer while attending the recruitment fair she suggested I read Proverbs 3:5-6. It reads, "Trust the Lord with all your heart and don't depend on your own understanding. Remember the Lord in all you do and he will give you success." <br />
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The recruitment fair was a whirlwind, chaotic, stressful event. Many people were crying, some were talking on Skype trying to get advise from others, and then a few were offered jobs before the fair even started! <br />
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I and the other 599 teachers seeking employment were given a layout of the school’s tables printed on hot pink paper. We were then given 2 hours to navigate, wait in line, and then sell ourselves to the recruiters in 60 seconds or less for the chance to interview with them later that day or the next. There were a total of 120 tables. I started out with 8 of them as my top choices. I was shot down by 7 of those 8 schools because I didn’t have full time experience in a traditional classroom setting. After an hour, I felt insecure, overwhelmed, and as though I was going to have a complete breakdown. <br />
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I stepped off to the side, sat down, and then recited Proverbs 3:5-6 in my head. I asked that God would lead me in the right direction and if it was not His will for me to work overseas that I would be okay with that too. I dropped off a few more resumes and secured four interviews total. This two-hour block ended at 1:15pm and my first interview was at 1:30pm. <br />
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At about 12:45pm I looked around the room that started with 600 teachers and 120+ school administrators and saw a patheitc looking 50 teachers and 30 school administrators. The teachers left standing were probably all feeling similar to me, lost, insecure, and like we had just been chewed up and spit back out. The administrators left were from schools located in Yemen, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and countries that I had never even heard of just waiting for teachers who were crazy enough to volunteer to go to their schools. A part of me wanted to start randomly passing out my resume to every administrator I saw not caring about where they were from. Fortunately this moment of insanity did not last long.<br />
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I decided that instead of wasting time talking with adminstrators in countries that I had never heard of, instead this was the perfect opportunity to head to the restroom to freshen up before the start of my first interview. Twenty mintues later I was headed across the skywalk connecting the convention center to the Ramada Inn for my first interview held in hotel room 912. Yes, most interviews were held in hotel rooms. A little weird? Yes. Normal in a situation already so chaotic and out of the norm? Yes.<br />
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As I was waiting in the lobby of the Ramada Inn for the elevator the principal of the elementary school that I was about to interview for also comes walking up to the elevator. I rode in the same elevator has her uncertain if I should make small talk or instead save it all for the interview. The ride up to the 9th floor seemed abnormally long. <br />
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Soon enough however, I found myself sitting in a room with both the superintendent of CAT (Colegio Americano de Torreon) and the principal of the elementary school. My interview was their first interview of the weekend. When I first had checked my UNI fair mailbox that morning at 7am I found a yellow paper from CAT inviting me for an interview. Obviously something in my canidate profile had stood out to them. Therefore, I felt as though this interview held a lot of promise. <br />
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Many questions and 30 mintues later I had officially survived my first interview at an international school recruitment fair. I walked out feeling on top of the world after the superintendent said to me with a smile on his face, “I like you. We will let you know first thing tomorrow morning.” The even more intersting part about this is that the roommate, Beth, I had this weekend at the fair currently works as a librarian at CAT in Torreon, Mexico. Can you believe that? She had told me that the superindendent was a scary, serious man who rarely smiles. I, however, expereinced the opposite.<br />
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After my interview I had a four hour break until my next interview at 6:00pm. I decided to take advantage of this break to go to the local walk in clinic to inquire about my ear. Before leaving for Iowa my ear had felt a little clogged. I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was just because I had been having an allergy attack of some kind. I quickly learned, however, to never fly with a stuffy head. I had two flights the day before one into Pheonix and then one into Des Moines where my ear did not pop either time. This created unbearable pressure in my ear not to mention a continual “whooshing” sound whenever I walked. I tried Sudafed, nasal spray, and ear drops but nothing helped. I was incredibly nervous about how this would affect me during the fair, but just had to try to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.<br />
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Now, fortunately I was able to think about it and try to get some medicine in me that would release the pressure. With a quick half a second look in my ear the doctor said, “Yup, it’s an ear infection.”<br />
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I felt like responding, “Ya think?” <br />
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A quick stop into the pharmancy and I had some antibiotics in hand that would hopefully cure this “stuffiness” sensation soon. Next, I decided to head back to my hotel room to take a nap feeling as though there wasn’t much more I could do to prepare for my six o’clock interview.<br />
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At 5:30 I felt refreshed and ready for round number two. This interview was not in a hotel room but instead in the same huge room as where the round robin event took place. (Only about 10 schools total decided to hold interviews in this location.) I walked into the large room and sat off to the side with the other teacher canidates waiting to interview. <br />
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There was one problem. I couldn’t remember what the administrators of this school looked like. I knew the general vicinity of where their table was located but it was across the room from where I was sitting and couldn’t quite see. After waiting a couple minutes after my supposed interview time of six o’clock and not seeing anyone moving I decided to take a risk and walk on over to the other side of the room. I approached a woman who I thought was the middle school principal. It turned out to not be her but the woman was nice enough to direct me in the right direction.<br />
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I was asked to sit down and watch a promotional video for the school. I was sitting there thinking, “Isn’t it my job to promote myself not them try to promote themselves?”<br />
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A few mintues later I was escorted to a different area to where a tiny petite woman was sitting in an all white suit. After I sat down this petitie middle school principal asked me in a soft spoken voice with a look of anticipation, “How soon can you start?”<br />
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I was incredibly taken aback. Stumbling to find the adequate words to say I stammered, “Um… eh… excuse me?”<br />
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Perhaps thinking that I didn’t hear the first time, she repeated, “How soon can you start?”<br />
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My mind was whirling with a million thoughts. What do I say? I asked, “Are you interviewing any one else?”<br />
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With holding the same pleased expecting look she responded, “No.”<br />
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I couldn’t help but showing my feeling of shock. What? Is this truly a job offer? I never even dreamed that I could be leaving for another country within the next week. How exciting! What will my parents think? Is this for real?<br />
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Without asking me any questions such as, “Explain your classroom management style. How do you feel about retaining students? Describe your philosophy of education,” she instead asked, “Any questions?”<br />
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Yes, I had a million questions, but I couldn’t seem to think about anything except, “I’m going to Honduras!”<br />
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We ended the short five minute interview with a handshake and the principal saying, “Go home, think about it tonight, and then come to our orientation tomorrow. We’ll talk more after the orientation.”<br />
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I was still stunned and remained stunned the whole evening. Ear clogged or not, I felt on cloud nine. Here it was my first recruitment fair and I was offered two jobs in my first two interviews! I had to stop and take a moment to thank God. Once again He had proven His love for me and once again I doubted His greatness. Hopefully someday I’ll learn to trust Him compeltely leaving no shadow of doubt in my mind.<br />
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Friday evening was spent talking to family on Skype, talking to my roommate Beth, and talking with administrators and fellow teacher canidates at the informal social held at the convention center. I was feeling good about the two interviews I had, but was feeling nervous because some were talking about formal contracts they were offered. I had not been offered any formal contracts. <br />
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The next morning my ear was feeling better, I put on my snazzy café colored busniess suite with a tangerine blouse, ate some breakfast, and drove to the convention center at around 10am. I eagerly checked my mailbox, but there was nothing. I tried not to panic, but it was hard not to.<br />
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I attended an orientation presentation for International Christian School in Hong Kong, went to lunch with my Bath, and attended two other orientation presentations constantly checking my mailbox. It was a little after 2pm when I finally heard from CAT in Mexico. I received a hand written note that said, “We are trying to reach you. We want to offer you a 3rd grade position. Please respond by 2pm.” I immediately looked at my watch. It was 2:07pm. Oh no! Had I missed my opportunity? I quickly ran upstairs, across the skywalk, and up to the 9th floor. <br />
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As I was getting out of the elevator on the 9th floor, there stood the elementary principal waiting to go down the elevator. She saw me and said, “Oh, hi!” <br />
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I responded, “Hi. I got your note.”<br />
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She said, “Oh great. Follow me.” <br />
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We walked down the hall and into the same room I had my interview in a little over 24 hours ago. Sitting in the room was the superintendent. He jokingly said, “The elementary principal really wanted to hire you so I had no choice.” <br />
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They handed me a formal write up of the contract they were offering me, told me to look it over, think about it, and then come back at 6pm. I knew there wasn’t much to think about. I was ready to sign right then and there.<br />
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My next stop was an interview at 2:30 on the 11th floor with International Christian School in Hong Kong. Since I was already offered a contract all I needed to do was go to the interview and politely say, “Thanks but no thanks.” At first ICS was one of my top choice schools, but when I met the administrators at the round robin sign up they didn’t seem very interested in me. They were looking for a teacher with more experience than me, but agreed to give me an interview anyways.<br />
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I walked in, shook hands with them, thanked them for the opportunity to interview at ICS, and then told them about the contract I was just offered. They were so nice about it all. They smiled, congratulated me on the position I was offered, and jokingly told me that I was going to the second best school. (Their school being the first obviously.)<br />
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Next, I wrote a note to Quality Schools International (QSI) to kindly decline the interview I had scheduled with them later that same evening. I sealed the note in a bright yellow envelope and slipped it under the door of their hotel room. <br />
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I went back to the convention center and found my roommate. We sat a table in the café section with many other teacher canidates talking about their job offers or lack there of. It seemed as though most had already been offered job offers, but there were also quite a few who had received nothing. This made me even more grateful for the jobs that had been offered to me. <br />
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At 4:30pm the middle school principal at EIS in Honduras approached me and asked if I was ready to talk some more. I went with her and explained that I was interested in excepting the job to work at EIS teaching 6th grade language arts and social studies. I was sure to explain to her that I had been offered a job in Mexico for the following two school years. She understood and said how she wished she was able to travel to Mexico too. I signed on the dotted line and said that I would be ready to leave for Honduras in 5 days on Thursday. She said great and away I went.<br />
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At 6pm I went back to the superintendent and elementary school principal of CAT in Mexico so that I could officially sign on the dotted line. I explained to them that I was going to Honduras but only until the end of the school year. They understood and were excited that I would get a little bit more experience before starting at their school in August. <br />
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I couldn’t believe it! Here I was so concerned that I wouldn’t secure a job at the fair and I secured two jobs! Truly, I owed all of my success to Him. It wasn’t by coincidence that my roommate happened to currently work for CAT as a librarian, nor that EIS happened to have a immediate position needing filled for the remainder of the school year.<br />
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That evening I met the administrators of EIS at the Red Roof restaurant along with some other staff who were hired to work at EIS for a congratulatory dinner. Unforutnately I will never see these other staff members again since I will already be in Mexico when they come down to EIS. But still it was nice to eat, talk, and enjoy the victory of securing two jobs during the fair.<br />
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Needless to say, that evening I slept very well. <br />
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The next morning I woke up, packed up my things, said goodbye to my roommate, and headed off to a local church there in Waterloo. The church I ended up going to was an Open Bible church. It was a great sermon about remembering where God has brought you from. It was an awesome time for me to reflect upon the last two years. <br />
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Two years ago I was getting out of a marriage that was destroying me emotionally and spiritually. I felt so down and so hopeless. I thank God daily for giving me the strength to leave and for blessing me with friends and family who have been so supportive. God has taken that hopeless, broken woman and has made her into the strong, adventurous woman I am today. God has restored hope into my life once again. Words can not even begin to express my gratitude for Him.<br />
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One of the worship songs that was sung that morning at church is a Matt Redman song titled, “You Never Let Go.” As we were singing the song, tears ran down my face. The song rang so true for me thus far and it is the promise I will hold on to as I travel to one of the most dangerous cities in Latin America. The song says, “I will fear no evil for my God is with me. And if my God is with me, whom then shall I fear?” <br />
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I returned back to California victorious. Now came the sad part. Telling my friends and family that after being back from China for two and half months, I was leaving again. My bible study friends made me a “Good bye Stephanie We’ll miss you” cake and my family had a good bye dinner for me. I said my farewells, see you June and off I went to start my newest adventure. Honduras here I come.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-2272222836193543520?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-2112068279647755182009-08-07T11:03:00.002-06:002009-08-07T11:08:10.996-06:002009-08-07T11:08:10.996-06:00August UpdateWell... I still do not have access to my blog while in Guangzhou. I am able to access my blog right now only because I am in Hong Kong. For those who do not know, Hong Kong is technically in China, but at the same time is not. Hong Kong is to China as Puerto Rico is to America. So, fortunately I am able to go to Hong Kong if I need to get away from the strict regime of China. This is a huge blessing.<br /><br />I have about 3 months left here and can't believe it! Time has just flown by! As of right now the plan for me is to go back to Yuba City at the end of November and finish out the school year with substitute teaching. This, however, is just the plan for right now and is subject to change with wherever He may lead me.<br /><br />Thank you for your thoughts and emails. I really appreciate all of you.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-211206827964775518?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1402545615235676615.post-47842621240093881172009-05-27T08:31:00.000-06:002009-05-27T08:35:04.543-06:002009-05-27T08:35:04.543-06:00UPDATEFor about the last 3 weeks now, I have not been able to access my blog. I am able to post this right now only through a "crack," so to speak. Therefore, I just wanted to let my friends and family know that I am doing well and may or may not be able to continue posting things. I have bought my flight home and I will be there November 21! Everyday is something new and I have already grown leaps and bounds. Thank you for the thoughts and "sreyarp." :)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1402545615235676615-4784262124009388117?l=wellsstephaniek.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10650321772341852542noreply@blogger.com0