Little Bird

Yesterday I ran beneath your trees, my breath was heavy and my mind busy sifting through memories. A soft wind bent their branches and I found myself showered by delicate purple blooms. Underfoot they cushioned my path, overhead they danced, and He whispered your name in my ear. 

Little Bird, you are a child of promise--the rainbow after a flood. You are a reminder that God is good, that He has compassion on all He has made. {Do you know that?}

Every year your trees bloom; without delay they awake full and strong, blessing the air and the ground with sweet lilac petals, pearls of joyful grace. At the peak of their splendor you were born, child of promise. He called you out, Little Bird, and gifted you with song. You might not remember but His song has always been in your heart--that glorious light melody of joy and redemption. It's been in you since the beginning. All creation pauses to hear you sing because in it, we hear the voice of God. 

I know you're all too aware that one day we each must learn to fly. We each must face the shifting seasons and undercurrents, yield to larger animals & care for smaller ones, learn what shelter is safe, and who will hear our cry. Everyone searches for their voice. But do you know, Little Bird, that your voice was never lost? Do you know that the One who gave you life holds you in His hand and has not been deaf to one note you've sung? Don't be discouraged by those who have heard and ignored, or heard and taken advantage. Your Lord suffered the same loss, frustration and pain, and He has always heard you. 

He sees you and He knows you, pure Little Bird. He has not meant for you to feel hungry or afraid. He has not meant for you to believe you are on your own, that you must make your own way or find security in anything other than Him. He has not meant for you to be overwhelmed; He has only meant for you to know He is God.  

He knows your heart and mind--merry Little Bird--He created you to delightedly flutter about from one branch to the next, chirp! peep!, open to harmonizing with all the other little birds and love life fully. Passionate is your heart, you fly with steady cadence toward justice and hope. You sing His song in the core of your being, do you know that? 

I have always heard Him in you.  

Precious Little Bird, do not put your trust in branches or nests, in gopher holes or mountain tops. Do not rely on the strength of your wings and don't believe that your wings have been clipped. Don't waste your time, young Little Bird, searching for who you are in dog houses, lions' dens, or chicken coops. Don't overturn the nest of your youth hoping your feathers might change color. No home is perfect--they are all crowded with feathers and poop, all chaotic with cries for food and warmth. Imperfect because we all forget who we are and what truly satisfies. No, in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your path {home}. Trust Him and those who sing of Him; any other song will not sit well with your soul. 

Your trees reminded me how extravagantly and passionately He loves you. They reminded me how blessed we are to have you among us, singing your life-giving song of truth and redemption. They reminded me of His faithfulness--how He promised me He would never let you go. 

In case you don't know: you are fearfully and wonderfully made, marked with glorious purpose and gifting, a light. 

In case you've forgotten: you are gracious and loving, gentle and honest, 
you are sensitive and peaceable yet you hold your own in defense of the truth, 
you laugh with ease, a soft hum is always on your lips,
you know that to everything there is a season,
you are patient and attentive, you give your time wholly and generously,
you know what is good, you do not settle for good enough, 
you love sincerely, with mercy that covers over a multitude of sins,
you are gifted with the voice of God, your Father has put His song of power in you.  

You are His, Little Bird, and your future is bright. Though it may be hard to see or sense Him with you, listen for His song rising up in you and know He is God. 

Live in the light and all your years will be golden. 

With all my love...

Where God Shows Up

Last weekend Chris & I laced up for our second half-marathon race-- this time, hosted by the San Diego Zoo Safari Park! While we envisioned covering more than a mile of the actual park, the preceding 12.1 wove us through the surrounding hilly vineyards and flatter farmland; an always-serene and refreshing locale for miles of physical challenge. 

Two weeks prior to race day, Chris & I exchanged uncertain thoughts about how we (mostly I) might fare. His nose barely came out of study materials over the last three months. I battled fatigue and low-immunity during the same span of time. Neither of us trained as much as we'd wanted to. "I don't see how I could run it," I told him. But when he asked if I'd at least watch him on race day, I began to consider: the runners, the start line, the challenge, and I knew the Spectator Bus wouldn't be for me. 

***

"I don't see how I could." "What if I'm overdoing it?" "I don't see how it's possible." I've been saying these things a lot lately. Struggling with flesh & Spirit. Spirit willing (and powerful), flesh weak (and selfish). Struggling to lower the flesh down, down, down, afraid of not knowing the depth that might be required. Fear. 

The truth is, I've been afraid. And God says, "don't be." The line between cautious reverence and paralyzing fear blurs my vision. When I consider the condition and limitations of my spiritual and physical self and compare to the ideal: heavenly, perfect-- I have to remember that I won't see "perfect" this side of death, but I have a responsibility to care for this imperfect self, according to the wisdom He gives me. I have a choice to stop struggling against Spirit and put the flesh down. I have to remember to keep that which is conditional and temporary properly labeled and separated from that which I am, and He Is, eternally.

***

So at 6:30am on May 6th I said "no" to Fear. And God showed up. 

13 miles with Him. A year's review of His biggest lessons to me, illustrated by rolling hills, fellow runners, breath, lyrics, water people, and my too-long visor bill. Here's a snippet of our dialogue. Maybe you will find rest and truth for your endurance challenges, too.  

* Shortly after crossing the start line, I became aware of the lyrics coming through my headphones. "Four A.M., two hours to go..." (Switchfoot's Redemption). I laughed and thought, "yep, two hours to go," followed by, "I've done this before; I'm going to be fine." There is something profound about telling yourself that you'll be fine, even though you know you're in for a challenge. I recall a day not long ago, waking up with a broken heart and puffy eyes, not sure how I could face another day of Wait Training. I asked the Lord to help me, to give me something for the day, and I heard a familiar chorus start to play in my mind, "The same God who was with you then, is with you now. The same God who led you in will lead you out. So take all the fear and doubt, go on and lay them down. The same God, the same God is with you now." (Newsong's The Same God) He's been on this road with me before, and He's with me now. I'm going to be fine.

* I almost didn't wear the visor. I'm not one to attach to lucky underwear, sweat bands, pig-tails, or a race-day ritual. The visor isn't lucky; it's oversized and was quite optional for an overcast morning. But, I wore it because I know it keeps my eyes focused. Whether I'm passing or being passed, the direction of my gaze must be straight ahead. Don't worry about anyone else. Run your own race (Hebrews 12:1). 

* Some days I run without music, but not on race day. During the small pause between songs my ears tune to the panting and groaning of fellow runners. The sound of breath and feet is an assuring cadence, but anxiety-inducing commentary is unwelcome clatter. Surround yourself with positive, helpful people. Above all else, guard your heart (Prov. 4:23). Reminders, so important and true. Listen to my voice and keep moving forward (Isaiah 28:23).  

* Here is a picture of the half-way point. Notice how it first took us off-road, then to an incline, switchback & incline steeper, switchback and incline steepest. A song of my childhood flooded my mind, "I'm climbing my mountain, one step at a time" (Psalty the Singing Songbook's One Step at a Time). It's not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit (Zech. 4:6). I know I'm on an incline; I don't need to fixate on the tallest point and wither from dreadful anticipation. Consider it as pure joy! And laugh (James 1:2). In practical terms, the Safari Park lined the trail with jokes. "What do elephant trunks and this hill have in common?" "They both suck!" Put one foot in front of the other and keep going, knowing that this, too, shall pass. And laugh. 

* Even though I run my own race, the race marked out for me, and I know better than to look for those I think I can beat, those who I'm sure will beat me, or even those I think will stay at my side, it is good to be aware that during any given set of strides, someone is counting on me and I am counting on him/her. For example, during an extended period of rolling hill I became aware of a man next to me, keeping my stride exactly. We never made eye contact but we did, through every foot strike, promise to get each other up that hill. He's counting on you, and you can count on him. On a different uphill, I found myself depending upon the woman in front of me to keep moving, lest we all stumble and fall into one another. We are all called to a slightly different race, but together we run The Race. Be aware. Encourage. Make level paths (Hebrews 12:13).

* All year the Lord has asked me not to be afraid. And every time, I have had my choice of responses. Finally, standing atop the grueling hill just ascended, I face the equally-steep decline. I am afraid of falling. I fear that my feet will slip underneath me, that after the hard work of getting to the top, all will be lost in one unsure step. The Lord is my Shepherd, I want for nothing. Will you be brave? He restores my soul. Do you trust me? I will fear no evil, for He is with me (Psalm 23). Do you remember? I remember and I open my arms in surrender and begin to run downhill like He taught me, unafraid, trusting. I will NOT be afraid! I fly down the hill. They will mount up with wings like eagles (Isaiah 40:31). I fly and I am thankful, and I am not afraid. 

* Water people; God bless them! Some are acquiring service credit, some love Running. I know who's who by their actions. Some hang out on the far side of the table, on the far side of the road, handing water to those who come off the trail in thirsty pursuit. Others arm themselves with as many little cups as they can carry and come into the road-- pursuing, anticipating the thirsty. I thank God for the water people in my life who cross the runner/spectator line because they know I'm weary and thirsty and in need of refreshment. I pray that I would be bold to cross lines and bring others bits of sustenance for their long journeys. I thank God for his pursuit of me, and his promises to keep me well-watered. (Jeremiah 31:25, Isaiah 58:11)

* Breath. Legs. Arms. Burning. Resting. Life: full. Aren't you glad you didn't opt for the bus? Yes, Lord. I am so glad I said yes. The glory of God is man: fully alive. Amen. 

Resolution Reboot

Now that we're almost through January 2012, I thought I'd rewind a tad, revisiting a New Year's resolution (read: broad, loose, avoidable goal) I'd made: "Get back into Regular Exercise." Chris's wasn't much better in terms of specific measurability: "Start Running More." For about a week, we rose to "the challenge," in fact increasing our fitness activity. I printed a half marathon training schedule (we like Hal Higdon's free programs), Chris enjoyed his new GPS/heart rate monitor watch, and we gleefully welcomed the return of dead toenails and sore muscles. 


But then... I decided to take on additional part-time work, we started planning a marriage retreat, my car battery died, and Chris became engulfed in licensing exam materials. Nothing throws a wrench in our plans faster than Life, right? January continues to creep away, meaning we've already failed at maintaining even 30 (20? 10?) days of Resolution. Good grief! I'm sure studies show that most resolutions set on January 1 are kaput by February 1. Time to dust off our violins and replay the sad songs of excuse. 


Or maybe not. 


I think the top killers of our resolve are (1) legalism and (2) immeasurable, non-specific goals. Just because our schedules got hectic for a week doesn't mean we've failed and can't get back on track. Goals too broad? Tighten! Before heading into another week with "FAIL" staring me in the face, I realized that there is always an opportunity to start again. Grace allows me to walk to my closet at any time, pull out my running shoes and hit the road, guilt-free. (Not)coincidentally, God's been modeling this concept with me in other areas of life, trying to soften my over-achieving, needing-to-please heart. It's not Pass/Fail. He's always there, waiting for me with outstretched hand to simply stand back up or take a step forward. No judgment, just a new day filled with the good plans of a loving Father. 


So yesterday I started over. I didn't go back to Week 1--I picked up where I left off. "Monday: Stretch & Strengthen"--done! To narrow our goals, Chris & I decided we will run another half marathon and are in the process of deciding between a couple of April races. To compliment the running, we will also cut out sugar for the month of February. Measurable, Doable. Seeing a finish line down the road--whether said line lies 2 weeks, 30 days, or 3 months away-- is invaluable for maintaining new disciplines. On another note, having spent a few years in a season of life where very little seems certain or achievable, God continues to show up with profound growth opportunities, purpose, and healing when I set (and reach) small, positive, attainable goals. I might not be able to achieve pregnancy at-will (or even with exhaustive efforts) but I can glorify God with my body by acknowledging its strengths and not taking for granted the health He's restored to me. 


If you've been struggling to maintain a New Year's resolution and are about to abandon ship, don't!! Even if you're discovering that your resolution was ill-timed, unrealistic, too broad, illegal maybe, keep in mind that you can set new goals any day! Whether you want to resolve issues of time, health, relationships, spirituality, employment, or attitude, God cares about all of it and delights in helping us take those baby steps toward living the full lives He intended for us from the beginning. 


All our best for maintaing your resolutions and walking taller, healthier, and more joyfully in 2012! 


p.s. If you've always wanted to knock back 13.1, let us know! 

Up and Running

Probably a month ago, I went for a run in the heat of the day. Dumb, right? That thought certainly crossed my mind at the half-way point as I dropped my head down a little lower, trying to conceal the redness of my face under a long-billed visor that--thankfully-- I'd decided to grab from the closet. "What was I thinking?" I asked myself, realizing I'd not passed another runner over the course of the last 2 miles but instead, had waved gratefully at many a driver fastened safely in the coolness of their vehicles. "What if I pass out out here? Who will know? Who will stop in the heat?" I had been deceived by the relative coolness of our apartment and had given way to fevered legs. A stirring to get outside, let my body do its thing and see what the Lord might want to show me en route. Once Resolve demolished Self-Reproach, I focused on the pavement before me and whispered soft thanks for every little puff of refreshing air.  


In our very first meeting, my acupuncturist strongly advised against running. From what he could perceive about the state of my body, nutrients are not being properly absorbed during digestion, meaning the nutrients can't be used as energy and resulting--duh--in overall low energy. "Don't overdo it. Running is not good for you. Your body doesn't have enough energy for it." I laughed and pokingly replied, "So you mean running a half-marathon a couple months ago wasn't the best?!" He grinned and then gave me a look that said, "seriously, though." Fortunately for the good doc (and my energy store), my knees had not yet fully recovered from the race and while I boo-hoo'd about it slightly, I wasn't ready to run anyway. 


Fast-forward to about 6 weeks later, post-"thriving,"and crazy unrest over the status of our family, the future and the general sting of banging my head into the same walls: I had. to. run. "Fortunately" for me, my knees were up to the challenge, and having spent 3+ years on a health-resolution journey I know that some rules are meant to be broken. Would this reverse the effects of the gentle, painstaking placement of needles along meridians? Would I bring harm to the body I've worked so hard to restore?  It's in these moments that (thank the Lord) I've learned to look the pestering Fear in the face and say, "No." Running is an act of worship for me and He is my healer; He'll be there. With visor in place and iPod shuffling, off I went. 


As I neared home, pavement steaming underfoot, Anxiety gripped me as I finally acknowledged the scuffle taking place deep in my heart. The topic of debate that I'd come out to wrestle over. Was I thriving in this heat? It felt more like melting. How do I get through the pain of this seemingly-endless season of life? I feel like I'm melting-- dying-- and people don't understand because they are locked safely in their smooth-riding vehicles, wondering why anyone would be out running in the heat of the day. "I give up, Lord. What else do I need to learn?" I looked up at the canopy of trees overhead--beautiful, swaying (there's a breeze up there?!)--and I heard him say, "I love you, Jaclyn. Don't you know?" My heart burst open and I stopped running. I walked, inhaling and exhaling, trying to feel that breeze, learn the truth. And then I was drenched. Flooded completely by a sweat I'd never before experienced. Washed over and cleansed by the heat so I could feel the breeze. Doesn't love make things worthwhile? Don't we put a lot of muscle into things that are far less fulfilling? He knew what I needed before I did, and he flooded me with his love and assurance. 


Sometimes Chris & I doubt our remaining stamina for this run the Lord has us on. It's been a long, long journey up steep hills and winding roads, a course lined with spooky obstacles and dark, lonely tunnels. One thing we've learned from race training though is this: If we set our mind on a short run, laugh about how easy it will be and how fast we can run it, it's always the hardest distance to finish well. But when we set our mind on a long run, we know we're in it for the long haul and we fall into a comfortable pace--actually learning to enjoy the scenery. So our minds are reset and we can comfortably repeat, "it's not time to stop yet; just keep going." It's sweaty Perseverance with peaceful Patience in our core. The two things we can be sure of:


1. It's not over yet.
2. His grace is sufficient for us; His power is made perfect in our weakness.


We've learned volumes over the years and are excited to share more in the coming months! God's been pressing on my heart to start writing specifically about our infertility journey, so although I'm not sure of some particulars (new site, layout, etc), more will come soon. Thanks for reading, praying, sharing with friends and, most importantly, sharing the road with us as we run! 

Thriving in the heat

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear

We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near

We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love

As if every promise from Your Word is not enough

And all the while, You hear each desperate plea

And long that we'd have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through rain drops?

What if Your healing comes through tears?

What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near?

And what if trials of this life

are Your mercies in disguise?

(from "Blessings" by Laura Story)

In case you've been wondering, we made it out of the half-marathon alive. ;) There were times for all of us as runners when we thought for sure our race was over but God was good to carry us through, triumphantly! The hours that followed included constant feasting, hard sleeping and wondering at our collective accomplishment. Unfortunately our knees are still angry with us for each one of those miles, meaning our shoes have seen more of the closet than the road lately. Anyway, it was a magnificent undertaking and we're so thankful for all of the amazing support we received. If you know anyone who is touched by Parkinson's disease, the Michael J. Fox Foundation is a truly wonderful team of people, working hard for a worthy cause. 

Since crossing the finish line of the wine country race, we've felt like life in general has been another kind of endurance run. Specifically we've hit a season of life's extremes: beginnings and endings, strife and peace. While we enjoy some excitement, probably especially during the playful summer months, we're not people who love extremes. We'd trade in some of the deep losses for a little less gain. 75 degrees is better than 40 and 100. We like the comfortable balance of middle ground. But regardless of our plans, preferences and comfort zones, we acknowledge that God's purposes prevail in every season- hot, cold or pleasant.

This year I waited to plant my garden until the end of June Gloom. In years past, I've started seeds in March or April- a fine time to provide the little guys with a nice mixture of moisture and heat. They would be beautifully robust in May but gloomy June would flatten the vibrance of their taste and color. Then when hot-July came around, the weakened plants would burn to a crisp. Sad. So this year I decided to wait until the gloom had passed, in hopes of exposing them to the most intense flavor-producing heat. The result has been richly-colored, voluminous plants that hold the promise of delicious and abundant fruit/leaves/flowers. I've noted that the higher temperatures have not shortened germination time--everything sprouts at its proper age--but the resulting life is stronger and more robust than the life that came in the gloomy, mild temperatures. 

In May and June three of our friends had babies... and three of our loved ones passed away. Chris's work has been overwhelming and while we continue to be thankful for the meeting of our needs, we also wonder if the load will rebalance or if we should reshape our life around it. One of the deaths close to us was the woman I cooked dinners for. I'm still helping her widower for now but what's next for me? The heat is definitely on. Fortunately, while God seems to be refining and strengthening us for all that lies around the corner, he's also given us great opportunity to relax and get a tan (why not?). 

During my last visit to the acupuncturist (my latest health experiment) the doctor touched my stomach and quickly pulled his hand back. Frustrated, he asked, rhetorically, "why is it still so cold?" "Huh?" He explained, "My hand is warm. When I touch your stomach I feel cold. It's too cold." My knowledge of Traditional Chinese Medicine is still in progress but I do know that "excessive cold" basically means lack of life. Poor digestion, lack of nutrient absorption, zero fertility. Dead cold, is what I hear. Yeah, yeah...tell me something I don't know. Independent of this event, Chris sent me a set of  Bible verses he said he'd come across and wanted to share: 

Without becoming weak in faith he [Abraham] contemplated his own body,

now as good as dead since he was about a hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah's womb;

yet with respect to the promise of God, he did not waver in unbelief, but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God,

and being fully assured that what God had promised, He was able also to perform.

Romans 4:19-21

I think the acupuncturist is frustrated because he feels he cannot fix the problem. I often have the same reaction when, despite my best efforts, I fall easily into sickness or fail to get pregnant or lack energy. I've seen a lot of hurting people lately, display similar frustration over the way things turn out despite their best efforts and most fervent prayers. It is frustrating when we don't understand. We ask for answers and then fail to perceive them because we don't believe they're true. It is hard to face certain truths and easier to stay in denial and keep toiling away. But it seems that there's a lot of potential healing and peace when we face the fact-of-the-matter and believe that we're being (trans-)planted when and where we need to be. When I go out onto our patio and consider the rich, fruitful life therein I can't help but feel that the Lord is fulfilling his promise to bless the work of my hands. Chris sometimes quotes the promise, "Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house..." (Psalm 128:3) to which I recently responded, "Well, you'll definitely have plenty of tomatoes." "When the Lord closes the door, somewhere he opens a window." Right? 

When I acknowledge the fact that my body is "cold," there is an opportunity for me to consider a bigger plan for the planting of our family. When we look at Chris's workload and acknowledge that God has not shown us another way yet, we can consider how we might adjust and what all of this experience might add up to for his future work. I believe for us, and for our friends and family experiencing extremes, that God does not take away or withhold or prolong without reason. Our tears, frustration and confusion is so real. But so is His compassion, provision and faithfulness and lovingkindness.  

Here's the complete song (with video) that started this post. Enjoy! 

Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21

Achilles' and the Knee

Spring is on it's way and the Hoovers West are training for our first ever half-marathon! After the first of the year, with 2011 resolutions fresh in mind and the new year full of potential, our friend, Drew, brought to our attention the opportunity to run a half-marathon through Santa Barbara wine country. To be accurate, Drew was mostly soliciting Chris and the two of them seemed destined to create a dynamic man-team that would bravely conquer the hills of the Santa Ynez back country as they were cheered on by dynamic and loving wives... Well it turned out that general racing spots were already full, however, The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research still had some openings...if the man-team wanted to run for charity. It just so happens that both men have close family members stricken with this disabling neurological disease. Vowing to raise $2,000 between the two of them, Chris and Drew began to dream their race dreams out loud, looking forward together to this shared physical and philanthropic adventure. It didn't take long before Drew's wife, Jamie, and I felt an odd stirring within ourselves, too. Can we hear the roar and excitement of the cheering crowd on race day? Can we feel the physical burn of training and victory of pushing our bodies' limits? Can we think of something more worthwhile than contributing to research on behalf of our families, present and future? Yes, Yes and No. We were in! The man-team of 2 doubled overnight (as did our fundraising goal), creating a spouse team of 4. Runners take your marks!


In the days that followed, we mapped out our calendars with suggested daily training activities. We researched "the best foods for runners." Marathon documentaries dominated our TV screen and we hummed the "Chariots of Fire" theme song day and night. We now had purpose to carry us through to Spring. We were unstoppable. 


And then our bodies started to hurt. Chris complained of persistent knee pain and over a course of two consecutive and unfortunate runs, I managed to strain my achilles tendon and (we think) sprain my ankle. I traded the road for the couch and became well-acquainted with the cold burn of frozen peas. Chris recovered more quickly but continues to be annoyed by aching parts. In one of our most pitiful moments (feet up, ice applied, ankle wrapped) we concluded that gone are the days of our early 20's when we could jump off the couch and go run several miles. We'd hit a new age with new limitations. *sad faces.


Despite these physical setbacks, we have returned to the road full-time and are looking forward to the May 7th race day! Chris is currently running about 10 miles on his "long run" days and although three weeks behind (due to above injury), I have just knocked down the 5-mile wall and am planning to try 6 or 7 miles this weekend. While we are conscientious to maintain a balanced training regimen to ensure total-body conditioning and aptitude, we are reminded every running day of the sport's cerebral demand. There is a powerful moment in running when you become aware that your stride, breath and heart beat are perfectly in sync and your mind has the power to keep or break the peace. When facing an incline will I tell myself to conquer it or that it is conquering me? Will I mentally dread the remaining miles or focus on every step that I've already completed? It's a wonderful balance of mind, body and spirit that makes me feel fully alive and amazed at God's intricate engineering of the body. 


For fear of boring you with an overload of running details, I will wrap up this post by circling back to our whole reason behind training: Parkinson's Disease. You've had a little taste of how we're spending our time currently and we would love for you to consider supporting our journey with The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research. This organization is the world's largest private funder of Parkinson's research, looking to develop treatments and, ultimately, a cure for Parkinson's. We know that there are so many worthwhile causes that you encounter every day, so please don't feel obligated to give to us if it's not settling in your heart to do so. We appreciate any support you might provide: financial donation, prayer (for our health, training and for those afflicted with Parkinson's) and words of encouragement!


Here is a link to our team's website for more detailed stories of our loved ones and instructions on how to contribute: Team Fox, "Cool Runnings."


Thanks for cheering us on, whether locally or from afar! 


And special thanks to the following for their unofficial sponsorship of our half-marathon adventure: to God, "for in Him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28); Drew and Jamie Hartel, our faithful teammates for their encouragement and lack of condemnation during our times of injury and laziness; Vibram, Saucony and Nike, thanks for the kicks! Thanks to two-parts-hydrogen-one-part-oxygen, chia seeds and coconut water; Pandora and iTunes, Orbit gum, Bob Harper's "Pure Burn, Super Strength" workout DVD and the city of Irvine for unparalleled street maintenance and esthetically-pleasing landscaping.