Confessions of a Rookie

It all started when Jason came home and tossed me a business card with a casual “You should try out.” I picked up the card and saw that it was for a women’s football team. I think we were both surprised when I emailed and asked about tryouts and asked if I could come play.

I received a really great email back (Thanks Jenna!) and I was invited to come to the tryouts. The next tryout was scheduled for a month away, so I had a whole 30ish days to convince myself that this really was something I wanted to try, that I wasn’t crazy (jury is still out there…) and that I wasn’t going to die. Things you have to understand, I hadn’t really exercised in about 8 years, hadn’t been on a team in about 9 years, had just left a negative work environment and didn’t have a very high opinion of myself. Also, I’m an introvert and meeting and getting to know new people is scary!!! However, I really wanted to get back into shape and I missed being part of a team. So, heart in throat, I walked onto the field in December for tryouts.

Tryout day, I woke up feeling ill. We had bought me some new sweatpants and in the process of tying them tight so they wouldn’t fall off, the string broke…nervous energy and cheap sweatpants are not a good mix apparently. So, I had to wear some of Jason’s that didn’t fit really well. That didn’t help, I wanted to at least feel comfortable in my clothes. I think I decided to go and also to not go about 20 times that morning.

I finally decided to go; Jason came with, I think mostly to ensure I didn’t chicken out at the last minute and run away to the coast for the day! When we arrived there were a few other people there and I almost turned around and left again. (Yes, I am a complete chicken at times.) I survived the physical aspect of the tryouts and there were some awesome people there who made it fun. T-Lo, Salad, Rainbow, you three made the choice of returning and continuing with football easy.

I had attempted running a little before, but my natural laziness kicked in and Christmas with all its food and just hanging with family happened and before I knew it, I was still out of shape and starting football practice. To say that I died multiple times while on the field that night and in the following days is an understatement. I could barely make it through warm-ups, then we got into the actual practice. Muscles I didn’t know I possessed started screaming at me to stop this nonsense, go home and sit in a hot tub for a month. However, with tons of encouragement from multiple people, I made it through the first months. I think I could probably talk about each of my teammates and how they encouraged me, whether it was taking extra time after practice to help with some skill, or making sure I understood a certain play, or telling me to hit someone hard the first time I got onto the field, I learned a lot from each of them. (See the comment later about a group of phenomenal women!)

Then, a little while before our first game, I got the news that I had broken a tiny bone in my foot. This littlest of bones caused me to have to sit out the first 6 of 8 games. That was definitely not in my plans. I was frustrated, shed a few tears and moved on.

I was able to suit up for the last two games of our season. In game 7 I got a little playing time and it was addicting! I got to hit people, and shove people and be praised for being violent. Fun! Bring on game 8! I was still coming off of my injury and was definitely back in my “out of shape” shape, so when coach mentioned that I would be playing both sides of the ball, I freaked out a little. Sadly, that didn’t last and I was only able to play defense (sorry coach!) but it was so much fun even though it was exhausting. I could talk about the game, about figuring out how to push my opponent around, about her strengths and weaknesses. I could talk about my teammates and how encouraging Nikki was to all of us, about being part of the pileup and stopping the progress down the field, about breaking free from my opponent and almost, almost getting my first sack, about being able to see and be a part of some amazing plays by some amazing women, about watching Mac hit an opponent so beautifully and hard that even the refs were asking who Mac was.…but this blog has gone on long enough. Let’s just say, I’m fired up for next season.

There were days I loved it, there were days I really, really didn’t want to go to practice, especially after I was sidelined, there were days it took every fiber to keep my feet moving under me (I’m still working on getting quicker feet…uhg). But I did it. I completed my rookie year, not as a top player, not as an all-American, not as anything special, but definitely a part of an awesome team. I have been able to get to know a group of phenomenal women, I have discovered strengths about myself as well as some weaknesses, I have been pushed and have learned to push myself, I am stronger because I am a part of this team. I am a Fighting Filly!

The magic of ordinary days

While Jason and I were in Africa, we started watching the American version of the Office. I’ve continued to watch it ever since, even though it’s been going through some not so funny times, some weirdness and it was definitely time for it to end, but the show always kind of felt homey because of where we were when we started watching it. The other night I watched the final episode. It was sad to see the end, but there was one statement that really struck a chord with me. It was by a character that I didn’t really like throughout the entire show, but he said this:

“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” ~Andy Bernard: The Office.

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but as a kid, mom would tell my brother and I to take a mental picture. We’d be in an incredible place, camping or traveling or just watching a thunderstorm from our stairs in Kingsgate and mom would turn to us and say “Take a mental picture!” and I always did.

I have vivid memories of moments where we’d be camping with the darkness just settling over the lake and the lonely and tragically beautiful call of the loon would echo through the air, of a hillside in Mexico with all its many and varied colours, a rainbow of homes, of a crazy thunderstorm in Saskatchewan with lightning blasting telephone poles into flames, with my brother and cousin in the back seat wearing their bicycle helmets and playing tank. I remember experiences through those pictures living in my head. This is something that has continued in my life. I love photography, but even more than that, I still find myself sitting somewhere and, as Anne of Green Gables would say, “Drinking in the smells”, feeling the caress of the wind, experiencing the sensations and taking a mental picture. I have done some amazing things and have some great memories.

While I was at college, when the weather got warmer, I would go outside and watch the sunsets. One afternoon I was lying on the hill in front of Lakeview Hall watching the sky when the sun hit the horizon and the entire sky lit up. All around me were shocking pinks, brilliant oranges and deep purples and the wind was full of the smell of growing things and warm breezes. It was such an amazing moment, to be enveloped and hugged by a sunset.

That was a good day…

I got the opportunity to visit Nepal while in college as well. We were able to help build houses for people with leprosy. That in itself was an experience. While we were there we went on a trek in the Annapurnas. This was the “easy” trek, meant to give us a taste of the mountains, but not getting into the snow covered areas. Our porters wore flip-flops while carrying all our gear. We wore the latest in hiking boots, and almost died just carrying our cameras and water. One of the days, while at the top of the circle we were hiking, we got up before dawn (not an easy thing for some of us) and hiked up a “hill” to see the sunrise. I remember thinking, “what is going to be so special that seeing a sunrise is worth this.” Up we trudged to the top of the hill that was about the same elevation as some of the Rockies back home. The sun wasn’t up yet, but there was the early morning light and mist wafting around our feet. As we looked up and up at the Annapurna mountains surrounding us and realized their vast and enormous heights, the sun started to rise behind a mountain named “Fishtail.” Its peaks were split near the top, so that it looked like a fish, tail up with its head stuck in the ground. The sun came up directly behind that mountain and as we watched, the sun rays were split and shot through the world in an ever changing kaleidoscope of colour and light until the top of the sun peaked through the “tail.” The wonder and magic of that moment can still give me peace when I bring that mental picture to mind.  

That was a beautiful day…

Jason and I decided to go to the zoo the other day. It was the absolutely right day. The animals were active and playing and crazy! The river otters were playing and at times were just a writhing ball of fuzz, tails and cuteness. The bears were fighting and tussling and one hurled itself down the hill and with a loud splash it flew into its little pool, then proceeded to wave its paws at us, the cougars stared back at us from the other side of the glass with insolent looks. It was so fun to see the animals, but it was even better to be able to share that with my best friend and soul mate. To share the fun and silliness. To make memories.

That was a great day…

I look back at specific times in my life and think, “Boy, those days were amazing, those really were the good old days. Why didn’t I hang on to those?”

However, I look at my life now, my everyday, sometimes boring, sometimes exciting,  sometimes stressful, sometimes just-nothing-special days and I feel like I’m going to look back at these days and think of them as the good days. Moments of craziness and laughter with Jason and lots of time just being us, hanging out with Kara, riding motorcycles with friends, wandering around the zoo, taking off to the beach with no plan, playing football (more on that experience in a blog coming up), getting to know new people and having time to read, sleep or dream about life…time to figure out who I am…

In this journey that’s my life, I know that my outlook and my days are not perfect and there are bad times, but I also want to treat each moment as a moment that I am living at my best so that I can look at my life, and even in the rough times, I can cherish the days I’ve lived as the good days.

A life well lived...

I had the honor this past weekend to attend a memorial for a man I’ve never met. It was for the grandad of a good friend of mine. He was, amongst many other things, an artist. The memorial was held in an art gallery showcasing many of his paintings, drawings and even some metal work he did in his later years. Because I am a self-proclaimed wall-flower and don’t like large crowds, I was allowed to disappear behind my camera and photograph the event. What I saw through my lens was a family living to fulfill the legacy of a great man.

I know very little about him, but I saw the joy and care he took in his creations, I heard the words of people who knew him, and more than just the words, the warmth in their voices as they remembered a father, grandfather, teacher or friend.

A quote that many people remembered him for was “You don’t make mistakes, you make opportunities for adjustment.” What a philosophy to have! Believing to your very core that even if something goes sideways, that you do something wrong or make an error, you can look at it as an opportunity. An opportunity to adjust…your work, your outlook, your attitude or even your life.

As I watched the family throughout the weekend I saw each member fulfilling his heritage in their own way; music, art, education, work, discovery and an unquenchable passion for their own personal necessary fire.

What a legacy to leave! I look at my life, at what I’m doing with it, and I wonder what my legacy will be. Will I be known for my care and compassion? Will I be known for the job I did? For my smile, for my quick temper, for my easy-going personality, for my strength or my weakness? I have jokingly said in the past couple of weeks that I am going through a “young” mid-life crisis as I look for a new career. I am taking this opportunity to adjust my outlook, to gain a love of life and a joy in being. To create a “get-to” attitude rather than a “have-to” attitude. To become a better, stronger, more passionate and caring person.

I am a better person for having heard some of his philosophy, for having known his family and for getting a glimpse of his life well lived.

What makes you come alive?

What makes you come alive? What makes your eyes light up and gives you purpose? 

I am struggling with what I am passionate about. I have had moments in my life where I had a passion, something that kept me going from day to day. I remember getting up at 5 am (and for those of you who know me, you know it would take something pretty special to get me up that early!) while I was working at summer camp to go for a horseback ride.

The sun would be barely up, or not quite up yet, and I and maybe a friend or two would make the trek over to the barn and corral. The fog would be whispering across the pasture, the grass would be wet, the smell was fresh and clean, the first hope of a new day and the light would be gray with the first hint of yellow hitting the tops of the trees. Sometimes we would go out and catch our horses. When we’d do that, we’d normally ride them into the corral from the pasture. The feeling of sitting astride a powerful horse, running in the middle of a herd with unfettered horses surging beside us, barely in control with just a halter and a rope cannot be described adequately. 

Other times we would call the “ponies” in and they would come running. We’d stand on the fence and watch the draw where the horses would come through and start hollering. They knew they would get treats, so they would come running. We could hear their thunder first, one or two of the dominant horses would come first, then the rest of our 20 or so horses would come barreling through the draw, along the pasture fence, down the side of the pasture and into the corral, dust flying, ears pricked and eyes wide. They were summer camp horses, so they were every breed and color which just added to their collective beauty. Bays, Paints, Appaloosas, roans, greys, ponies and horses alike. 

Once our horses were caught, we’d head out, usually with no saddles. The purest way to ride a horse, nothing between me and my horse, every feeling, every movement felt, every communication natural. We’d head down into the flats and either turn right into the forest and the swamps, or turn left into the field. If we’d turn right, we start out slow, just enjoying the nature and the early morning sounds and smells. If we’d turn left, we’d hit the flat and canter down the field. 

We’d finish our ride and head back to work for the day, which usually turned out to be 15 or 16 hour days. Then we’d get up and go again the next day.

The job was a good job, rewarding as any job is when you are working with kids, but the passion, the joy of riding, the beauty of it kept me going, kept me alive.

I don’t have that right now. I am looking for it, for something to make my blood boil and my eyes light up. I think football might turn into a passion for me, but for now it’s still pretty new and still a little scary. 

I am currently hanging out with two people who are chasing their passions. One is my husband. He is working a day-to-day job to keep us surviving and paying the bills, but outside of that, he is starting a web design business. His eyes light up when he finds a cool new application or figures out a way to solve a problem he’s been working on. His love of what he is doing comes out in laughter and exclamations. 

The other is my best friend. She is being creative, she is painting, she is designing jewelry, she is putting her inner beauty and vision out into the world in physical form. The joy in her voice when she talks about her art, the sparkle in her eye makes her more beautiful still. 

I am searching for that passion again. I want to feel alive, I want to have a reason for getting up in the mornings. It doesn’t have to be a job, it doesn’t have to be an everyday thing, but I must have that passion back in my life. 

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take. ~Wayne Gretzky

This past weekend I got to go for a ride along with Woodburn’s finest. It was really interesting and fun. The officer I rode with had some really good advice as well as having a great sense of humor. He was really awesome to watch as he handled each person he came into contact with, being firm when needed, being gentle when needed, being efficient and professional.

I have wanted to be a police officer since I started the steps to get my Bachelor’s Degree in Behavioral Science. I am finally going for it again. This is scary for me, because I haven’t made it yet. I sometimes think it is just never going to happen.

I first applied with the Maui County police department just after I graduated from college. (Cuz who doesn’t want to live in Maui?) Jason and I went and didn’t even get to hit the water because I was in testing the entire time and he was applying for jobs and looking for places to live. I passed all the tests, but after talking with some of the locals there, we found out that the local police had some issues. After we left, we found out that they had done a sting and fired 40+ officers for doing and selling illegal drugs. When they wrote to ask me to come for the next level of testing, I decided that starting with a department in that state of affairs would be tough. A year later, we found out they did the same type of sting and had to let another 50+ officers go. Excuse the horrible phraseology, but I feel I dodged a bullet there.

I applied again in Vancouver B.C., passed the test in the top 20% but was unable to make it to the physical test. Sigh.

Then we moved to Portland and I started my job at Gladstone Park Conference Center.

In 2007, I attempted it again. I applied with Clackamas County Sheriff. At the same time, we were also applying to work in Africa. I asked God to shut one of the doors firmly, so firmly that I couldn’t ask questions about where we should be going. I failed the multiple choice POST test with a score of 20%. “Slam” goes the door.

So, we went to Africa…and I still have no idea what God wanted us there for. I’m not sure we’ll ever know.

And then we came back and I started back at GPCC again.

I tried one last time, I thought, last spring. I sprained my ankle a week before the physical test. I missed it by 45 seconds, but this time passed the POST test with flying colors.

I have asked God to take this passion away, but it seems to just get stronger.

And so…I am taking another shot at it. I have applied for both entry level and reserve with a local agency.

I know that you miss some of the shots you take, however, in the words of the great one (#99), “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

New year, new me?

Yup, it’s a new year, yes, everyone is talking about their resolutions…I don’t do resolutions. Resolutions are too easy to break. One slip and it's over and I join the statistics of failed resolutions. I don't like being a statistic.

Goals on the other hand can be fought toward, if you slip up, the next day is a new start toward your goals.

And so, my goals for 2013.

I have joined the Portland Fighting Fillies, a full contact women’s football team. I have joined this team with a few things in mind. I have thoroughly missed the atmosphere of being part of a team. There is something to knowing that the people you are working hard with will have your back no matter what. And these ladies are tough! My goal with joining this team is to get into shape so that the next time I run the ORPAT I will not end it gasping like a dying fish! 

I will get a new job. I have enjoyed my break from work and have been able to get myself into a better head space than I have been in a long time. I am feeling more confident, more mentally strong and more willing to take risks. 

And finally, I have the goal of being happy and content, of looking for ways to make a difference in people’s lives and finding ways to get out and enjoy life. We live in a cool city, we are young and now have time to have a bit of a life! I’m excited about where I’m at. 

Happy 2013 to you and your family! I hope you each have an amazing lucky 13!