Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Countdowns

Oh people still blog!  That is exciting.  Since my blog skills fell off the planet this last year I wasn't sure if there was something in the water that made everyone a horrible writer or if it was just me.  Yup just me.  Anyway, I live in Arizona!  No pics for now, but there will be some.  Probably two months from now because, remember, I stink at blogging. Anyway, I have actually been in this rather hot state for...5 weeks now?  And by state I mean United State not physiological state of being....that would be totes awkward.  Anyway, I've been running lately, and on the treadmill because it's 100 degrees at nighttime, and I was reminded of something I feel strongly about.  Countdowns suck.  Never count down to something.  When I'm on the treadmill, and look down to see that I've been on for 5 minutes, sometimes I think of my target time (6 minutes) (just kidding) (usually) and I keep looking down to see if I've made it or not.  And it makes every second on that dang treadmill so miserable.  But if I just start people watching the stereotypical gym people or watch tv, the time seems to go a lot faster, and I actually go for more than 6 minutes on that dang treadmill.

Example Number 2: Once upon-a-time I was in the mtc and I tore my acl, and went out to Italy without surgery.  Well as I was traipsing around my first city, Mantova, I started to notice that my knee was hurting really badly.  And it didn't go away.  And at that point I wasn't thinking about the baptisms or stopping people on the street to talk or learning Italian, but about the fact that I couldn't make it two years with my bum knee feeling the way it was.  So I made a countdown to the date of our interviews when I'd talk to Prez and tell him "uhhh my knee isn't working right" and then he'd send me home for surgery and I'd serve the rest of my mission in Iowa.  At least that's how I worked it out in my mind.  And the countdown was supposed to help me get through those very difficult first days/weeks when my knee hurt with every step, I couldn't understand anything people were saying in Italian, and my companion was a real winner.  Welp, I obviously didn't go home, but got transferred to another city where they didn't use bikes, just buses, and everything turned out fine.  But I remember those days of my countdown, when each day felt like an eternity, and as I kept looking down to see how far I'd made it, I didn't notice any real progress.

Well, I didn't mean for this to be so long and circuitous, but sometimes I find myself counting down here in Arizona; counting down until I can visit Provo friends, or counting down until I can make it to our next school break.  But in my experience, counting down is the most miserable of activities.

To finish, a quote that I liked recently from a certain Jim Elliot: "Wherever you are, be all there"