Bunning and Running

If I disappear from the blogging world, it's often because I'm busy in the real world. November proved to be a month of mayhem, starting with my first and last (because of the program changes) Evening of Excellence in my new ward. 

This is my third time being in Young Women's, which has given me enough experience to know that if I really put my "heart" into it, I can pull off a pretty good teenager friendly celebratory party. I knew I needed a theme, so I got thinking about the year's youth scripture. It was John 14:15, "If ye love me, keep my commandments."

After spending a whole evening robotically rocking in my patio chair, thinking about that scripture, and watching my kids ride circles around our fire pit on their bikes in the backyard, I began pulling a party together in my mind. I focused in on the word "love" from the scripture, which took me to hearts, which took me to this...

The Young Women arrived to the "hospital" as our doctors who were going to teach us how to check our hearts. I assigned each young women value a "specialty" so the girls could choose what they were specialized in and would tell us what they had learned this year in their specialty. 

The girls were really cute diving into their characters as they presented their year's findings. We were even able to hunt down some lab coats from members in the ward because we have quite a few people going to medical school and dental school, so the girls really looked the part! 

After the girls shared their experiences from the year, we were rushed over to the refreshments table to heal up all of our aches and pains. 

I love it when a plan comes together! The night was a perfect blend of fun and spiritual. The girls all gave excellent presentations, and the fun food and decor made it feel like a genuine party. Success! 

The same week of Evening of Excellence was my fourth half marathon.

I'm finding that I'll always have friends as long as I'm a runner. Runners have a way of sniffing each other out and sticking together. Especially these girls! I met Torrie when I first moved to Las Vegas and she's been so nice to invite me along on all of her exercise adventures. Over the summer we would all do High Fitness together and it morphed into making a little girls' trip to Big Bear, California for an all downhill half marathon.

It took a little convincing for me to sign up for this race, but about three months out, I finally committed and paid the $90 race entry fee. Then I got to work. I ran five miles most days on my own and then on the weekends we would all go running together for the long runs. My first long run was 8 miles and I surprised myself with how good I felt during the run. We kicked it up a mile each week, following a great schedule to be fully prepared for the big race. 

About halfway through my training, I had a little twinge of knee pain, but I was able to work through it by taking a few days off and by wearing a strap around my thigh. All was going well. I was consistently training at a great pace. I had put all the work in. I was feeling good, and was starting to get optimistic that I might be able to beat my last half marathon time. 

I went for my last long run, 12 miles, two weeks before race day. Jeff dropped me off up the mountain and I was on my own to make it the twelve miles home before it got too dark. I underestimated winter sunsets and found myself scurrying down a mountain road that would have been ideal for star gazing, but not for solo running as it was pitch black and little voices inside my head began to convince me serial killers and wild bears were lurking behind each tumbleweed or cactus shadow I passed. And that was all just in the first three miles.

By mile five my knee felt like part of it had cracked and was scraping against the crack every time I took a step. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't stop running because of the bears and murderers. I was legitimately terrified for the duration of the entire 2 hours it took me to make it down the mountain and relief didn't come once I finally made it back home. Though the threat of murderers had lifted, my knee was killing. 

I got to work Googling to see what was going on. Through a series of searches, I discovered my issue was not quite my knee, but rather my IT Band rubbing against the outside of my knee. Not surprisingly, this injury is called Runner's Knee and it's one of the most common injuries amongst long-distance runners. That didn't sound too bad. This was normal. Probably an easy fix. I'd just let my body rest a few days and I'd be ready to go again just like the last time I had this problem.

I took three days off. My knee didn't hurt at all if I wasn't running, so I kept not running. I braved up on Wednesday and headed out on my normal 5-miler, a task that seemed simple after practically crying in fear for twelve straight miles down a darkened mountainside. I made it two miles without any pain. Just as I was patting myself on the back for allowing my body enough time to recover and giving my body the rest it deserved, my knee instantly and violently went on strike. I went from no pain to immense pain in 3-5 steps and could not even try to run through the pain. 

The whole way home from this run I was practically sobbing, now because I had put in all the training, I had done all the long runs, I had perfected my pace, I had bought the race entry, I had done everything to have an awesome, successful race day, but my body was giving up on me.

I took the rest of the week off, hoping I just needed more time to heal. I used a foam roller, I took fish oil, I massaged the IT Band every free second of my day, and I prayed and prayed that something would work. 

I went for one more run the Monday before the race as the last test to see if I would be able to make it on race day. I hit the same wall at two miles and had to stop. I called my mom and sister to report I would not be running the race after all. I was so disappointed. And I was so mad. I had prayed and prayed I'd be able to run. I had worked so hard for it! I was so mad a silly injury was setting me back so much. 

In the midst of my stewing about all the unfairness of the situation, I had a thought, "Now you know what you can do on your own." I knew my limit was two miles. I absolutely could not run one step past two miles. It was so obviously and clearly my physical limit. 

Unwilling to call it quits on my friends for race day, I spent a whole day watching YouTube videos about IT Band injuries and discovered I had been wearing the leg strap incorrectly that's supposed to help hold the IT Band in place so it doesn't rub on my knee. I adjusted that, and gave it one more chance two days before the race. 

I ran two miles and felt a little twinge of pain, but I was able to run three more without any issue after that. I decided to try the race, convinced I would be taking the first aid bus down after mile two, or walking all thirteen miles, but I wasn't willing to give up after working so hard for it!

I made it past mile two, past mile five, past mile seven, onto mile eleven which was terrible, but it always is, knee injury or not...

I made it all the way to the finish line, running the whole way, without a moment of injury besides the normal running-a-half-marathon-and-wanting-to-die feelings. 

I beat my previous record by 15 minutes! I was so grateful my prayers were answered and I was able to finish something I had worked so hard for. At the risk of sounding like an athlete being interviewed after a winning game, I owe it all to God! I so clearly saw my limits and couldn't shake that thought I had that anything beyond mile two was clearly help from a higher power. All of us at the end reflected about how running and being out in nature, using our bodies to accomplish something that feels impossible is surprisingly spiritual. I definitely had a testimony building run, and I have to acknowledge that I had very little to do with my success on race day. I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who cares about silly things like running a race with some friends. He cares about the details of our lives and He gives us strength and power beyond our natural abilities.

High fives all around!

Not too unlike my running story, I also had what I perceive as a little boost from heaven in the money-making department. You guys know I love a good side hustle, and I had been feeling a little unproductive with my spare time and was wishing I could utilize some of my time to make a little extra money, especially to help with extra holiday spending.

One day my friend asked me if I could make her some cookies and she said she would even pay me to make her a batch. I made her cookies and didn't make her pay me, but I did think, "Hey, I'm good at something that someone would be willing to pay me for? That sounds like a side hustle. I wonder if I could make money selling cookies."

Just to see what would happen, I went to post a picture of my cookies on Facebook Marketplace. I didn't know what kind of person would buy baked goods from a stranger off of Facebook Marketplace, but I was sure someone would "bite."

As I was looking for cookie pictures, I stumbled across a picture of my cinnamon rolls and knew I had struck gold. Cinnamon rolls! People love cinnamon rolls but hate making them! Also, I make really good cinnamon rolls. I think I'm onto something!

I posted a picture and kind of forgot about it until that night when three people messaged me, requesting some of my goods. I was shocked, excited, and in a panic, because Jeff was out of town and I wasn't even totally sure I had all the supplies to make these cinnamon rolls I was now needing to mass-produce.

I started making the cinnamon rolls when I realized all the kids were in bed and I didn't have a good way to package up my finished product. I had like 10 paper plates, but a paper plate seemed a little too casual. I paced my kitchen until I remembered I had a few posterboards on top of my fridge. I eyed them hopefully as I asked myself if I was capable of crafting my own pastry box out of poster board. I had no other choice, so I got crafting.

The cinnamon rolls turned out beautifully. The posterboard boxes gave me a surprisingly professional look. I was one clever name away from being a legitimate cinnamon roll business. By 11:00 PM, as the final buns were cooling and waiting to be packaged, I was realizing I needed some way for these people to contact me again for their next order. I wanted to look official so they would come back for more. I needed a business card, a name, at the very least some kind of Instagram account for them to reach me at.

I sat at the computer typing in various ideas to see if the names were available. CinnCity was sadly taken. I thought about something like SarahExcellsTastyBakery but I just wanted it short, snappy, and to the point. Then it came to me, Bun and Run. I pessimistically typed it into the computer, sure it would already be taken. It wasn't. So I snagged it!

Bun and Run, come grab a bun, and run! It was perfect. I loved it, and my grand opening was a smashing success.

I honestly haven't had incredible success since the first weekend. I don't know why there were so many people searching for pastries on Facebook Marketplace right when I got the idea, but it was fun to make a little cash doing something I enjoy doing. If you're ever in Vegas and craving a cinnamon roll, come and find me!