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I recently took up running. It happened by accident. I wanted to get in quasi-shape so when we started playing ultimate frisbee, volleyball, kickball, and all the other sports we play in summer, I would not be huffing and puffing through the first month.
Corey (from work) and I decided to exercise together the morning before we moved my piano. The exercise ended up being running because he was just beginning training for the Ragnar Relay. The Ragnar is a 200-mile team relay from Logan to Park City. Teams have either six or twelve members.
I do not run. I have not run since 5Ks in high school over 8 years ago and I did not train for those at all. I just showed up, ran them, ate free food and went home with a shirt. I am not a runner. In case you are not picking up what I am putting down, I have never been a runner. Ever. Yet, I ran. Not only that, but about a mile into the run, I asked about Ragnar, was invited to join the team, and without a moment of hesitation, I said yes. One mile of formal running in 23 years of life and I was committing to a serious, grueling race through the mountains. I have not regretted my decision for a moment. I agreed so quickly because somehow it felt really right.
You see, this year I have been on a mission to become the person I want to be and the person I think I was sent here to be. I have spent a lot of time rolling with the punches. I learned loads to be sure, but I was not as in control of my life as I should have been. I made money and I spent money. I gave up investments in my future for immediate fun. I will not be so harsh on myself to say that I was completely wasting time, but I was pretty caught up in things and while I was doing some things right, I could have been doing them more right.
Many of you have read of my struggles and have been a witness to my realization of the responsibilities I have as an adult, a future father, and a priesthood holder. I was not living up to those titles and it pained me. One thing that really scared me was the thought that one day I might be blessed to meet a gentle, loving, and beautiful girl whose attributes and character were of the highest standard and who I would want to court, date, and marry, but upon seeing my house not in order, she would find another who could provide the essential foundation for a joyous eternity. That is not the Jon I know. The Jon I know and the Jon I want to always be is the Jon who defied all odds and earned his Eagle Scout award many years ago. I would like to recount that story for those who are unfamiliar. I do so not in bragging, but because it was an important lesson for me that I have always remembered.
Throughout my adolescence, I was a Boy Scout. Living in Texas, I began my journey to achieve that coveted rank of Eagle Scout. For many years, I earned badges and went on scores of camp-outs. As I progressed in school, scouting became more difficult, but it looked as if I would still easily make Eagle before I was eighteen. Then we moved to Kentucky, where scouting was not quite as easy. If I remember correctly, when we moved, with one full year of time left, only 3 incomplete merit badges and a service project remained. Some of the requirements were time sensitive and it was imperative that I work on them months before the birthday deadline. I slowly worked through them, begrudgingly at times. To complicate things even more, my father had been working in California for a few months and when school ended, just two months before the age deadline, the rest of the family packed up to spend the summer in the California desert with him. With college to prepare for, I had the choice of moving with them or staying behind to finish my Scouting work. Feeling quite independent and ready to be on my own, I opted to stay. With that decision, it became entirely up to me to complete the steps to become an Eagle Scout. I lived fifteen miles from the people who could help me finish merit badges and get a project going and I had no car. I lived in my little guest house alone and I made my own schedule. I got a library card and checked out the limit of six movies per day and watched all six through the afternoon, evening, and night, then return them and get six more the next day. I would walk the couple miles to Wal-Mart to get snacks. I was living the high life and no one could say or do anything to change that. I would wager that under similar circumstances, most, if not all seventeen year-old guys would completely neglect finishing their scouting duties, but something in me would not allow me to put it off. I made phone calls, I completed assignments, and put together a service project in which I consulted with an arborist and worked out donations from several local nurseries to re-landscape the church grounds. I completed my project on Saturday, July 14th, had my Eagle Board of Review on Sunday, July 15th, where my new rank of Eagle Scout was proclaimed just hours before I turned eighteen. I had done it. Turns out, even my parents did not think I would get it done. They thought when they moved to California it was over. To be honest, for a moment, so did I. But that something in me changed me.
That same something in me came back this year. It comes back often when I am not doing my best. I have pondered what that something is. At times, I have called it responsibility, as it seems to show up when I have teetered too long on the border of irresponsibility. But I do not think it is just that. I think it is the best of me coming out to remind me of who I am, where I came from, where I am destined to go and who I am meant to be. It is the lessons my parents taught me of honesty, integrity, hard work, love, care, peace, kindness, reverence, respect, patience, dedication, and improvement. It is the lessons God has taught me in humility, faith, virtue, temperance, and charity.
I get a little better each time I try. I hope to one day be my best, but I know that in this life, there is always something for me to be better at.
Our song of the day is one of the coolest motivational songs I know: Chariots of Fire.
I will leave you today with a motto I came up with to live by-
Corey (from work) and I decided to exercise together the morning before we moved my piano. The exercise ended up being running because he was just beginning training for the Ragnar Relay. The Ragnar is a 200-mile team relay from Logan to Park City. Teams have either six or twelve members.
I do not run. I have not run since 5Ks in high school over 8 years ago and I did not train for those at all. I just showed up, ran them, ate free food and went home with a shirt. I am not a runner. In case you are not picking up what I am putting down, I have never been a runner. Ever. Yet, I ran. Not only that, but about a mile into the run, I asked about Ragnar, was invited to join the team, and without a moment of hesitation, I said yes. One mile of formal running in 23 years of life and I was committing to a serious, grueling race through the mountains. I have not regretted my decision for a moment. I agreed so quickly because somehow it felt really right.
You see, this year I have been on a mission to become the person I want to be and the person I think I was sent here to be. I have spent a lot of time rolling with the punches. I learned loads to be sure, but I was not as in control of my life as I should have been. I made money and I spent money. I gave up investments in my future for immediate fun. I will not be so harsh on myself to say that I was completely wasting time, but I was pretty caught up in things and while I was doing some things right, I could have been doing them more right.
Many of you have read of my struggles and have been a witness to my realization of the responsibilities I have as an adult, a future father, and a priesthood holder. I was not living up to those titles and it pained me. One thing that really scared me was the thought that one day I might be blessed to meet a gentle, loving, and beautiful girl whose attributes and character were of the highest standard and who I would want to court, date, and marry, but upon seeing my house not in order, she would find another who could provide the essential foundation for a joyous eternity. That is not the Jon I know. The Jon I know and the Jon I want to always be is the Jon who defied all odds and earned his Eagle Scout award many years ago. I would like to recount that story for those who are unfamiliar. I do so not in bragging, but because it was an important lesson for me that I have always remembered.
Throughout my adolescence, I was a Boy Scout. Living in Texas, I began my journey to achieve that coveted rank of Eagle Scout. For many years, I earned badges and went on scores of camp-outs. As I progressed in school, scouting became more difficult, but it looked as if I would still easily make Eagle before I was eighteen. Then we moved to Kentucky, where scouting was not quite as easy. If I remember correctly, when we moved, with one full year of time left, only 3 incomplete merit badges and a service project remained. Some of the requirements were time sensitive and it was imperative that I work on them months before the birthday deadline. I slowly worked through them, begrudgingly at times. To complicate things even more, my father had been working in California for a few months and when school ended, just two months before the age deadline, the rest of the family packed up to spend the summer in the California desert with him. With college to prepare for, I had the choice of moving with them or staying behind to finish my Scouting work. Feeling quite independent and ready to be on my own, I opted to stay. With that decision, it became entirely up to me to complete the steps to become an Eagle Scout. I lived fifteen miles from the people who could help me finish merit badges and get a project going and I had no car. I lived in my little guest house alone and I made my own schedule. I got a library card and checked out the limit of six movies per day and watched all six through the afternoon, evening, and night, then return them and get six more the next day. I would walk the couple miles to Wal-Mart to get snacks. I was living the high life and no one could say or do anything to change that. I would wager that under similar circumstances, most, if not all seventeen year-old guys would completely neglect finishing their scouting duties, but something in me would not allow me to put it off. I made phone calls, I completed assignments, and put together a service project in which I consulted with an arborist and worked out donations from several local nurseries to re-landscape the church grounds. I completed my project on Saturday, July 14th, had my Eagle Board of Review on Sunday, July 15th, where my new rank of Eagle Scout was proclaimed just hours before I turned eighteen. I had done it. Turns out, even my parents did not think I would get it done. They thought when they moved to California it was over. To be honest, for a moment, so did I. But that something in me changed me.
That same something in me came back this year. It comes back often when I am not doing my best. I have pondered what that something is. At times, I have called it responsibility, as it seems to show up when I have teetered too long on the border of irresponsibility. But I do not think it is just that. I think it is the best of me coming out to remind me of who I am, where I came from, where I am destined to go and who I am meant to be. It is the lessons my parents taught me of honesty, integrity, hard work, love, care, peace, kindness, reverence, respect, patience, dedication, and improvement. It is the lessons God has taught me in humility, faith, virtue, temperance, and charity.
I get a little better each time I try. I hope to one day be my best, but I know that in this life, there is always something for me to be better at.
Our song of the day is one of the coolest motivational songs I know: Chariots of Fire.
I will leave you today with a motto I came up with to live by-
Live today with the experience of yesterday building your vision
for tomorrow...
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