distracted.

Once upon a time I was on my way home from work. It had been a good day, long, but good. I was happily listening to my radio as I made my way back home. A drive that had become monotonous over the last few months- stop, wait, go... repeat... three turn and your home. This day was just like the rest. stop, wait, go... repeat.

I made it to a stoplight. I was first in line. Life was good.

A biker came up along side me- he had clips. I watched him as he tried his hardest to not have to clip out and stop. He skillfully balanced his bike while inching forward, anxious for the cars turning left to stop so he could do. I watched him go farther and farther into the intersection as the last car was making the turn. I held my breath in hopes that he would make it in time- (I might have laughed really hard if he had fallen over, but my humanity really was hoping he wouldn't)- He had my complete focus, I was engrossed in this biker. The last car turned left, he had made it, and off we went across the intersection.

We- I followed. I looked up half way through the intersection to see a red light staring back at me.

I got to the other side. stopped. laughed. a lot. and then slowly started driving again- still laughing.

After waiting at the light for over a minute I ran a red light- I wasn't in a rush, it wasn't intentional- but it happened.

There is a lesson to be learned- despite the fact you shouldn't run red lights.

Life is about where you place your attention. Are you focusing on the things right in front of you, or do you allow other things to distract you? I have become awful at being on my phone in the presence of others- a quick text, instagram, or even to play a game. My focus is off of the things right in front of me, the things that are most important. There are even times when I'm talking with someone and my attention wanders to a nearby conversation or I get lost in thought.

And then there is the eternal perspective. How often do I get distracted by the here and now, the biker, and ignore the things of eternal significance.

the end of my musings.

the short and the tall of it.

one month. I have one month under my belt at Zenger Folkman on my own. It has been a good month. The first week was, eye opening to say the least. training was nothing like real life, which I guess is how life is. No matter how "ready" you think you are- life is not a textbook, there are always curve balls. so the last month has been filled with double bookings, rescheduling coaching calls in Asia, and the occasional messed up Cafe Rio order.

Somewhere amiss the first week of stress came the realization (and the conversation with my boss) that I can do anything but not everything. I realized that doing my best was enough, and that I didn't have to get everything done right away. A dysfunctional gall bladder also forced me to stop stressing.

Despite the stress and the constant fear of failing somewhere along the way I did something right. Once a month they have a leadership team meeting, and once a month the whole company comes together to have what they call a "stand up meeting" as part of this meeting they do recognitions, and today Jack got to the short and tall of it. Greg (one of the tallest employees) got called to the front, and then I heard my name. Amid laughs at the short and tall jokes, I made my way to the front. And realized that I was doing a good job, even if I have a constant fear of failure. I also successfully played down the recognition until I received multiple congratulations and the promise of a gift card. It's funny how we do that- how we play down our successes and play up our short comings, and by funny- I mean stupid.

Also on the topic of tall and short. I attract the tall ones- who knew, 16 inches difference in height. no worries. another possible interest. 15 inches height difference. I am thinking I should start investing in step stools...

chivilary isn't dead.

we live in a day where it seems like roles are slowly changing. No longer are women damsels in distress, but rather independent strong working women. Men are no longer portrayed as prince chartings but rather "lazy" and disinterested. (as shown in the painting seem below)

However, despite the view of this slowly diminishing society- chivilary isn't dead. it is alive and kicking and there are boys men out there who would make their mothers very proud.

Tonight we went to dinner at an apartment of boys who showed us this. The smell of chicken and steak fajitas filled the air as we waited for dinner to begin. Our offers to help with the last finishing touches were quickly declined, and we were told to sit and enjoy. Two tables  changed their cinderblock living room into a formal dining room. Individual bottles of sparkling cider sat just above our plate waiting to be opened by the our dainty hands, and when we proved too weak they sacrificed their hands to open the slightly rough, "extremely hard to get off" cap. Conversations were had, jokes told, and time well spent. And when the time came for ward prayer, they ushered us out and invited us back after for fondu. We came back to find the dining room switched into a dessert bar, chocolate flowing from a fountain on the coffee table, surrounded by bowls of strawberries, pretzels, and bananas. Once again our efforts to be of any assistance was rejected. Even when we took matters into our own hands and started clearing dishes we were met with open hands and "may I take those"

We left feeling pampered. special. and very well taken care of. These boys didn't make us feel dumb, or stupid, or like we needed to impress them. They didn't make us cry, or fight for their attention. They showed us that not only is chivalry not dead, but it is alive and kicking.

P.S. The mother's of those boys should be very proud.

dirt. sweat. and exhaustion.

I am an extremely blessed individual. It is true- and sometimes I think I don't remember that fact as much as I should.

And one of those blessings- my wonderful new roommates. Its always slightly frightening to move in with two random individuals that you have never met before. What if they are scary? or mean? or weird? All very valid concerns... we hit the jackpot and not only got normal roommates- but friendly and kind roommates who we became friends with right away.

And example of how wonderful they are. The text waiting on my phone friday afternoon from Kar asking if I wanted to run the dirty dash with her the next day. Two friends had dropped out so she asked us. Cami couldn't and so Allissa and I became the two new replacements.

Unfortunately a 10K through the mud doesn't count as a training run for a marathon, so the morning started with an 8 mile warm up run. Then it was home to get ready to go. We talked and got excited as we ran around getting everything together, and before we knew it it was time to go- but not before a near break down on my part.

I have gotten in a "get rid of everything I don't use" mood since moving. I have three pairs of old running shoes which are great for fun runs, mud volleyball, hiking, painting, basically just about everything. Why I need three I dont know- so in the process of getting ready I went in my room and opened the duffle bag of shoes to grab out one of my three pairs. As I emptied my bag, I progressively got more and more worried... where were they?! and then I remembered- in my frustration of moving I had gone on major "get rid of everything mode" which included all three pairs of shoes. Im pretty sure my rationale had included the fact I was in need of new running shoes, and when that happened my current running shoes would take the place of the other three. However, I had not gotten new running shoes in the few weeks previous.  So why not just get new running shoes after the race? Happy week before marathon day- aka not enough time to break in new running shoes. So I start to freak out slightly. all because of shoes.

remember the fact that I have angel roommates? I think I forgot for a second, because Cami came to the rescue with one of her old pairs of shoes...

and then we were off to the race.

note: temporary tattoos do not come off within 24 hours. if placed in an area not covered by a skirt the next day it will be noticed. remarks will be made.

It was wonderful. and fun. and hysterical. the first obstacle was ridiculous. it was great- the mud was so thick that we all got stuck right away. I couldn't move an inch. Two boys started wrestling behind me- then they were on top of me- and I couldn't move!! I had a slight moment of "oh crap my ankle is going to break and I have to run a marathon next week" and then the wrestling boys became heavenly. They were Allissa and I's saving grace. They would dig out our feet and place it a step in front and then dig out our other foot. They then helped give us a boost over the wall of dirt. Allissa and I fell in love with them right away- minus the love part... but they became our favorites.

The other obstacles were not quite as challenging but just as fun. We climbed over walls, under poles, through a marsh, and over blow up rolly polly thing-a-majigs... We laughed and bonded- and had dirt in more places than we could count.

We made friends with a random boy from Alpine along the way. He wanted to be a neurosurgeon and is graduating in April... and I dont remember his name, but he was great and friendly

Other boys came to our my aid when I couldn't get over the wall of a blow up obstacle. I would get a running start and try to jump and not move. The mud would cement around my feet and I wouldn't move at all... The extreme laughter didn't help at all...

One giant slip n' slide and another mud pit later we finished- covered in mud!

It was so fun- and slightly exhausting.

But the night was not over... a cold shower with strangers, a car ride, and a very long hot shower later I was changed and ready for a date. The activity of the night. Wallyball. Meet a very exhausted Ellie. My skill level drastically decreased as the time went on, but we still had fun. The night ended and I had never been so excited to get off my feet and into bed. 8:30 church came quite early the next morning, but I was feeling quite active, healthy, and alive.

life as of late.

I think it is time to dust off the old blog. It has been four months and a lot has happened.

To name a few: I graduated, had my last day at BYU Student Services after 3.5 years, started working at Zenger Folkman, moved to a new apartment, visited home, entered the world of dating again, found out I have to have my gall bladder out, hiked the Narrows, signed up for another marathon... the list goes on and on.

If I was more ambitious I would backlog all of these events and tell you in detail about all the exciting things- however I don't know if that will happen. So here I will put the adventures to come. So dust of your reading classes, grab a cookie and a glass of milk- and enter my world, filled with the musings and adventures of one Elizabeth Jane.

escaping to a different world...

my favorite part of spring... the mountains. add a great book, and the boy you have a crush on and life is just about perfect. meet our go to activity. reading Harry Potter on a blanket in the canyon. this is my happy place.

Remembering Boston

Marathon Number 2: Complete

Five days after the tragedy at the Boston Marathon, I laced up my running shoes, put on my "storm fit" Nike Jacket, and made my way to the starting line with 5,000 other runners. 4 hours and 55 minutes later I crossed the finish line. cold. wet. tired. and wishing for nothing more than dry feet and a hot shower.

once upon a time I wrote an epic play by play of my experience running the St. George Marathon. I am not sure I have the memory to recreate this marathon in the same way (it all seems a blur) but I will do my best.

The Monday Before: 5 days to race day
The fear and feeling of stupidity started to set in. While I had tried to be good about training- school projects and finals had sneakily stolen my time that would have been spent running. Not to mention a random night of being sick preventing one of my last long runs. I was feeling like I was going to die. Being the comical person I am I posted on facebook about my fear of my eminent death. something along the lines of "countdown to marathon: 5 days countdown to funeral: 6 days." An hour later I was sitting in class when a girl next to me turned to the people around her and told us about the bombings at the Boston Marathon. I was mortified by my facebook status- what was meant to be funny now seemed to be more of a callus comment. I quickly went and tried to rectify the comment, eventually hiding it from my facebook. Now I was left with questions about what would happen with the SLC Marathon, would it be cancelled? what were they going to do?

The Friday Before: 1 day to race day
The stress from the week made the race anything but top priority. I was stressed, and the marathon took backseat. With St. George the marathon had engrossed my thoughts all week long- I almost forgot I was about to run a marathon. Finally on Friday life seemed to slow down and I was able to think about the next day. It still seemed surreal. That day for supervisor meeting we went to Pizza Pie Cafe to say goodbye to those supervisors leaving at the end of April. Happy Carbo Loading. I ate, talked, and tried to eat some more. Then it was off to work where I realized once again how I work with the best people in the world, and then it was home to pack. Jackson had to take an OChem final before we could leave, but he was done before 6 and we were on our way to the expo.

Embarrassing moment of the day: We went into the wrong parking garage and had to flip around. I didn't turn wide enough and successfully got my car stuck. Jackson was trying to coach me how to reverse and fix the turn but I kept failing. Laughing, and wanting to die. I finally gave up trying and made Jackson switch me. By this time I am pretty sure there was a car waiting to try to exit from the exit that I had successfully blocked. Jackson is magic and reversed and pulled through in a matter of seconds.

We met up with Mike Pulsipher in the parking lot and went in to the expo. It was surprisingly little and empty. We picked up our packets, Jackson switched to the half instead of the full, we signed the Boston Memorial Banner and then headed to dinner.

We convinced Mike that he wanted to come to dinner with us and that he wouldn't be a third wheel. We got in the car (I made Jackson drive after the fiasco in the last parking garage) and made our way to Trolley Square to eat at the Old Spaghetti Factory (The last time I ran the SLC half marathon that is where I had eaten with my family... tradition in the making). We all fell in love with the Old Spaghetti Factory that night. They won us over with bread, salad, and a delicious pasta- but what made us go from having a crush it to full out being in love was the free ice cream at the end. We talked, laughed, watched the news on Boston, and talked to our waitress about how she plays Quidditch (real life).

After dinner we took Mike back to his car and then it was off to the airport to pick up my parents. It had started to rain and silent prayers hoping it would stop by the morning were said. We dodge raindrops as we loaded luggage into the car and gave quick hugs before we made our way to my Aunt's house. It had suddenly gotten late, and the hope of a full night sleep was seeming like a distant dream. We unloaded the car, talked with Aunt Margy and Uncle Bryce, I got a much needed blessing, and got ready for bed. PS something I love- brushing my teeth with the boy you are dating- weird? maybe, but it was great. By the time we went to bed it was close to midnight and the 6:00 wake up call seemed too close to run a marathon.

Saturday: Race Day
The alarm went off way too early. I rolled out of bed, turned off the annoying chime, and made my way up the stairs. Breakfast time. I tried but the last thing I want to do was eat. I managed to get half a piece of toast down before giving the other half away. The weather outside wasn't promising. Half asleep I got ready for the race. I layered to stay warm, and decided that I would just try to remember my "dedication list" rather than writing it on my arm under all the layers. Mike came and joined us at my aunt's and my padre drove us to the starting line. We reached a road block on the way and talked to a kind police officer about how to get to the start with all the closures for the marathon. We made it there just in time for Jackson and Mike to drop off their jackets and make it to the starting line.

The starting line was great. Everyone there excited for the race to come, and there was also a sense of reverence for Boston. We had a moment of silence and then they played "Sweet Caroline." Yes, we sang along. It was also comforting to see the bomb squad at the starting line. They had added security and made it known.

The gun went off and the race was underway. Jackson, Mike, and I decided to run together. It was so fun running with them. Our pace was perfect in my book. We told stories, talked, enjoyed the people around us, Mike enjoyed his first "race" experience, and we handled the wetness.

My mom and Dad were troopers and handled the rain to come out and cheer. We saw them around mile 2 and it made my day. They cheered for me, they cheered for Jackson, and they even cheered for Mike who they had met on the way to the starting line. Mike turned to Jackson and I and expressed how Bill and Cate have his eternal allegiance. I ended up getting to see them about five times along the course. It made my day. It was a hard course and a hard day for running. It was cold and rainy meaning you were soaked and there was no way to get warm. My feet were wet from the rain and hurt from being so soggy (gross word). It seemed as though the course was all up hill and the course wasn't through very exciting areas- so seeing them along the way saved me. Along the route my water belt started to bother me and I was able to hand it off to them. huge tender mercy.

Mile 4: For the first time in a race I had to go to the bathroom. bad. however, i have this whole not wanting to waste time standing in line- so I didn't stop. My goal. Mile 8 when the half and full split- I figured with less runners the lines would be smaller.

Mile 7.9: .1 miles until Jackson and Mike split for the half. Jackson turned to me and asked me how I was feeling. I shook my head. not good. I might have cried slightly. It was raining. My feet were wet. and I had to run 18 miles by myself. Jackson told me he would walk back and run the last little bit with me and gave me words of comfort. A quick hug- and he was gone.

I made friends with a guy named Jason. He was my new running buddy and kept me from stopping. My pace slowed to a little over 10 minute miles (I no longer had Jackson and Mike keeping my pace up). I asked Jason questions about his life and he told me about his adventures. He was from Minnesota, single, working for the state- his hobby: running marathons all over. He would fly different places and make a weekend out of it. He is not your "typical" marathon runner. He was well over 6 feet, and probably 250 pounds. He was a big guy, and I am sure we looked like quite the pair running together. I saw my parents it once again made running so much easier- they even cheered for my new found friend, Jason.

Mile 15: The rain finally stopped. I was freezing and my fingers were the size of a hot dog. (Note to any boy ever: never propose at the end of a marathon... there is no way a ring could fit.) My "Storm Fit" jacket had failed and I was soaked to the bone.

Mile 18: I started playing intense mind games. I had Jackson's Garmin (he is an angel) but I refused to look at the miles (also it was hidden under my now very wet jacket). Instead I tried to convince myself that I wasn't as far as I was. I convinced myself I was at Mile 17, and then when I reached Mile 19 I was extremely happy. The sad thing is I kept doing it and it worked.

Mile 20: The 4:30 pacer passed me. I had been on track to make my secret goal but I had slowed considerably as my feet became more and more painful. It was the feeling you have after sitting in a hot tub for WAY too long. I had been running for over 3 hours with wet feet and my feet were letting it be known that they weren't happy with me. When they passed I tried to pick up my pace to stay with them but the pain increased and I couldn't do it. My legs felt mind but my feet were winning the battle with my mind.

Mile 21: The mind games continue. I had told myself that I would get to see Jackson in about three miles and then I would be almost done. I planned to give him the Garmin and make me finish strong. I tried listening to music but I had my moms headphones and they were weird and wouldn't stay in. I eventually gave up.

Mile 22: JACKSON WAS THERE. He was the nicest person in the whole world and had walked back four miles after his half. I was so happy to see him. In my mind seeing him meant I was done. Wrong. I still have 4 more miles which equates to at least 40 minutes of running. I handed him his garmin and told him to push me. This lasted for about .2 miles before I begged to walk. We walked a lot. Mentally I was dead. Then the embarrassment set in. I felt weak mentally and therefore pathetic (oh the dumb things of our mind... i was running a freaking marathon and felt pathetic!) I would try to run for a bit but then needed another break. My feet were awful and all I could think about was being dry. It felt like the end would never come.

Mile 24: The slight drizzle turned back into a downpour. The water was washing the sweat off my forehead and into my eyes. I kept trying to remind myself that I was doing this because it was enjoyable. It was not enjoyable. We passed what looked like an aid station- luckily I had Jackson who warned my that it was actually people passing out alcohol to the runners. I was so confused- who wants alcohol while running- we also had a free beer coupon on our bibs. Seriously? That is exactly what I want when I finish a marathon.... false.

Mile 25: Best. Aid. Station. Ever. There was music, people cheering, amazing signs (Jackson's favorite was "Your feet hurt so bad because you are kicking so much a**), and a woman passing out pretzels and gummy bears. Nothing has ever tasted so good.

The finish: It came sooner than I thought and I was so excited. It was pouring but I saw my dad and life was perfect. I finished. Got my metal. Grabbed a water bottle- and realized I couldn't bend my hot dog fingers to open it. My mom offered an umbrella but I realized there was no sense because I was already drenched. Jackson and I got interviewed by a reporter for the newspaper and BYU. We were on the second page later that week, with a very attractive picture. I looked like I wanted to die. We walked around and I felt like a baby- I was helpless. I felt weak and was carrying nothing while everyone else had their hands full. The best part about running the full with a mainly half marathon race is by the time you are finishing they are trying to get rid of all the extra food. We took home a huge box of Famous Amos cookies and Greek Yogurt.

The aftermath: We made it back to the Barker's house, took showers, and then got in the car to head back to Provo. Jackson and I fell asleep in the back sleep. We were both exhausted (He had ended up running around 18 miles). The parentals wanted to take us out to lunch at Bangkok Grill to keep the tradition alive. We got back went to lunch and then hoped to both take a nap. No such luck. That night was full of fun festivities including a pine wood derby ward activity (Jackson's roommates car had a C02 cartridge- it was AMAZING), pizza and family time at Matt and Keri's, and a friend's birthday party. We got to bed late and exhausted. Church was early the next day and Sunday was just as busy as Saturday night. We had family lunch/dinner and then hosted a party for a friend moving out of the ward. I found myself extremely grumpy that night, I just was upset at the world. The next morning I woke up with the desire to be happy but it wasn't coming. I hurt. My legs hated me. My back hated me. I had finals. and I was Oscar the Grouch. I took a final Monday morning and had some time to kill before work. I decided a nap was much needed. I slept for an hour. I woke up feeling a thousand times better. Life was great for another 4 hours but then the grumpiness started to come back. After work I decided another nap was needed. I woke up from this nap and my legs felt good as new. No longer did I notice the pain as I walked down the stairs. I was the happiest- and this time it stayed. So moral of the story: Get enough sleep after you run a marathon.

Despite the awfulness of the course and weather I still want to run another marathon. The bug is real. And the best thing is Jackson is running his first full in a month, and I get to be on cheering detail.

*pictures to come*

pizza bagel

funny story: It's Tuesday. happy devotional day. Jackson meets me in the ASB and we are about to head over to the Marriot Center. Jackson was in need of a snack so we made a pit stop at the vending machine. There was a pizza bagel stuck. We (by we I mean I) thought it would be a genius idea for Jackson to get a pizza bagel so we could get two for the price of one. economical. and exciting. So he inserts the money presses A4, the metal rings move, the bagel is about to fall, and then it stops. Two stuck bagels and 1.25 poorer. So what do you do? You get another pizza bagel in hopes of it getting the other one to fall which will cause the stuck one to fall so you get two for the price of two. (Once again this is all my doing, but Jackson is the greatest and goes along) Another 1.25 in the vending machine. The metal rings start to spin, the one bagel falls leaving another one stuck behind it. The bagel falls the two feet to where the original stuck bagel waits, it hits, and stops... both bagels are now stuck. I die. laughing that is. No bagels. 2.50 out. Current number of stuck bagels... 3. So what do you do? turn to brunt force- with a little bit of shimming of the machine we were able to get one bagel for Jackson. The best part: Jackson didn't even really care about having a pizza bagel.

ps Happy Birthday Catherine Daines Hall

patience.

patience. of all the virtues I long to have but fall so very short, this one takes the cake.

i remember being young and my mother trying to teach me delayed gratification, but I am almost positive that if they did the marshmallow experiment with my I would gobble it up within 3 seconds of the observer leaving.

being done with school. finding out about seminary. having time... everything in my life is requiring patience. and it is the hardest.

"patience is staying with something until the end." -Elder Uchtdorf

Over the last two weeks all I have wanted is to quit school. There was so much to do with not enough time. I am pretty sure Jackson has heard me ask him if I could quit school a thousand times. He won't let me (the little punk).

We are taught to have joy in the journey time and time again. Yet, why when school is staring you straight in the eye, with all other stressors trying to crowd their way in is it so hard to remember. I get stressed. shut down. want to cry. complete  the project. look back. and suddenly all of my stress seems so dumb and unwarranted. The problem is keeping that end perspective before you know how it will turn out. Trusting in the Lord is what it all comes down to. However things turn out trusting that it will be what is best, and that you can do all things with his help.

so I will attempt to patiently wait, while I continue to move forward, for he is my savior of good things to come.

ps meet the to-do list that I wrote last week. enter stress. meet crossing things off. enter feeling of accomplishment.

• positive living paper (3-4 pages)
• interview presentation
• watch yours, mine, and our. write 6 page paper analyzing.
• watch father of the bride. write 2 page paper analyzing.
• major application #3 (5-6 pages)
• FLE portfolio (final product 40 pages)
• FLE presentation
• FLE extra credit paper (1-2 pages)
• Teach Seminary x3
• Developmental Theory Midterm
• Developmental Theory Journal (1 page)
• Systems Midterm
• Systems Theory Journal (1 page)
• willpower chapter 8 quiz
• willpower chapter 9 quiz
• willpower chapter 10 quiz
• willpower conclusion quiz
• follow up survey for positive living
• course evaluations
• final project presentation
• final project write-up
• relationship homework
• email professor about missing class because of teaching, report points

A Perfect Saturday

There are some days in life that just seem perfect. You are the perfect amount of busy while not being stressed, the weather is perfect, you have perfect company, and are doing the perfect things.

Today was one of those days.

It started with a Ju Jit Tsu Tournament that Jackson was competing in. I was super excited until I realized I didn't want to see my boyfriend get beaten up, or beat someone up. He did great though and one the first match. One of the reasons I love him- he was friendly and talking to the guy he was fighting during the fight. He is a gem. His friend Burke won the division they were in. It was great to be there and cheer.

Then it was home to quickly get ready, make a picnic, and head up to Salt Lake City to see the Odd Couple. A coworker had given us the tickets because I covered him one morning. They were great seats and it was fun to get out of Provo. We both secretly said that we liked University of Utah's campus (but we still have loyalties to BYU). The play was great and funny- and we both felt extremely cultured. It took me back to my days in London, however, my ability to analyze theater has significantly decreased.

waiting for "The Odd Couple" to start

Afterwards we laid on the grass soaking in the beautiful day talking about anything and everything. It was a perfect moment.

It was then home to get ready to go on a group date with some of our favorite people. My friend from London was going on a date with Jackson's roommate, Lacey and Jake came, and Mike took a girl we had met laser tagging. We went to Zupas for dinner and then up the canyon for a bon fire. Jackson told me ghost stories about the "trappers" who had worked up there, and we laughed a lot. We cuddled up by the bon fire, looked at the stars, told stories, and watched the first dates happening around us.

The day ended perfectly, which is to be expected on a perfect day.