The Final Stretch

My intent is to document our experience last night for memory's sake, as I so desperately want to cling to the laughter and comfort that embodied the bbq our friends threw, but it must wait for a moment, because there is something else that so desperately needs our attention:

Oakley sunglasses.

Not just any Oakley sunglasses, though. We're talking about the Women's Radar Path.

I've had these for a couple weeks now, but haven't had time to get out on my bike. I wore them running, and loved them, but couldn't fully appreciate them without the 17 mph breeze created when cycling. This weekend was my chance, however, with the beautiful 65 degree weather and virtually no responsiblities (well, Bobby had finals this week, but that would only count if he actually studied). I put them on and was feeling pretty good about myself, because these actually fit my face, and they're bright pink.

There was a slight problem, however, when I got on the bike and started going. In spite of the protection, I found myself squinting. A lot. After a couple miles of this contortion, my face was tired. Why the heck was I squinting? So I consciously forced myself to open my eyes, and I almost cried from happiness. My glasses were so light that I didn't notice any weight difference between wearing glasses and not wearing glasses. They fit my face so perfectly that they did not shift or fall, allowing me to focus completely on the road and my surroundings rather than worrying about a frame falling in my line of sight or having to push them up the bridge of my nose.

Not only did I look hot, but these glasses were actually doing everything they were supposed to. If they could reproduce, I would have their babies.

Speaking of looking hot, I already have a well established cycling tan. I was sporting a capped sleeve top yesterday, and a client said, "Nice farmer's tan." I think it was meant to be snarky, but I took it as a compliment.

So on to last night. First, Bobby left me to go on a bike ride and said he would meet me there, and I ended up very lost in Springville, having never gone to Rob's on my own before. My GPS was of no service to me, as Rob's address doesn't exist in the world of Garmin (blast!). After finally making it there, we chatted, laughed, made awkward jokes, and just had a really good time. Rob and Kelli made some veggie kabobs for me, which made a fabulous addition to my homemade black bean burgers (which, Rob said, actually tasted like real hamburgers). Peli enjoyed a hotdog and a half, the half being a gift from Elise (Rob's daughter) where Elise almost lost all of her fingers. Kelli told some funny stories about waiting for Rob while he served in Guatamala, and I talked with Sarah about her wedding plans. Kelli let me try on her new running tops to see if they fit. Thank you, Pearl Izumi, for making me a small! We're ordering Kelli some replacement XS tops. The whole night was just a comforting setting, and ended with Sarah and Marty giving me a ride home while Bobby went running with Rob and Chris. It was bittersweet-- such a fun evening, but I know we're leaving in a couple weeks. Why did I have to really start liking Utah when it was so close to time to leave? It's so much easier to deal with the crazies when you have your group of friends that you can turn to. I'm really kicking myself for not seeing all the good Utah had to offer sooner. It's really a lesson Heavenly Father has taught me, and I am going to look for the good in every situation, circumstance, and environment. It's not worth spending any time feeling sad about something when there's an abundance of good surrounding it.

So on that note, I'm still excited about Kansas. I'm excited to do some triathlons and bike races this summer, and perhaps even a half marathon (I'm really starting to enjoy running again). I'm looking forward to having a garage and counter space and time to spend with my husband. I'm really excited about my brother's wedding and being so close to family.

The beautiful thing about being an adult means that we don't have to be away from any place for long.

And something to think about.