Christians and Adoption

God Adopts

A dear friend of mine recently shared this thought on his social media: "God adopts. If you're a Christian and have never thought about adopting; think about it. Pray about it..."

My initial thoughts upon reading this were bewilderment, and intrigue. I would never go through the legal process of adopting my own son or daughter because they are already mine; it would be an unnecessary and useless endeavor. As my children are mine and I need not adopt them, so too, am I already God's, and adoption would be equally unnecessary (I am of the learning that I lived with God as a spirit before I was born into this physical body; he is my Heavenly Father). I have pondered this for hours, discussing it with a few friends along the way, and just wanted to share what I came to learn.

I asked this friend what he meant by his statement that God adopts, and he sent me the link to an article he had written. I loved much of what I read in it, but it was still new to me. I needed to investigate it further and from a familiar place. I'm well aware that sin separates us from God, and that we are to draw near to him again through repentance and acceptance of His son, Jesus Christ. But to be "adopted by God" was like no way I've ever heard it phrased before.

A few biblical references for adoption include Rom 8:14-24, 9:4, Gal 4:5, and Eph 1:5

What Does the Book of Mormon Teach?

Having looked at the provided biblical references, I wanted to see what the Book of Mormon taught. Here are a couple of passages in support of this idea of divine adoption:

"And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters [emphasis added]" (Mosiah 5:7).

"And now I say unto you, who shall declare his generation? Behold, I say unto you, that when his soul has been made an offering for sin he shall see his seed. And now what say ye? And who shall be his seed? Behold I say unto you, that whosoever has heard the words of the prophets, yea all the holy prophets who have prophesied concerning the coming of the Lord - I say unto you, that all those who have hearkened unto their words, and believed that the Lord would redeem his people, and have looked forward to that day for a remission of their sins, I say unto you, that these are his seed [emphasis added], or they are the heirs of the kingdom of God" (Mosiah 15:10-11).

"And the Lord said unto me: Marvel not that all mankind, yea, men and women, all nations, kindreds, tongues and people, must be born again; yea, born of God, changed from their carnal and fallen state, to a state of righteousness, being redeemed of God, becoming his sons and daughters [emphasis added]; And thus they become new creatures; and unless they do this, they can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God." (Mosiah 27:25).

"Wherefore, I beseech of you, brethren, that ye should search diligently in the light of Christ that ye may know good from evil; and if ye will lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not, ye certainly will be a child of Christ [emphasis added]" (Moroni 7:19).

Christ Adopts

At this point in my study and discussions, a doctrine of my own faith, a new phraseology, was becoming clear: I am in fact adopted by God. But by my understanding, it is not God the Father who is adopting me as I interpreted my friends post to mean. I am eternally God's. Although at times I may be distanced because of poor choices, my relationship with Him is not severed; just like no choice my children will ever make could sever the relationship I have with them as their father. I don't adopt them, He doesn't adopt me.

God the Son is who adopts me. This still sounds strange to me, because I've never heard it phrased that way, but why not? Adoption is defined several ways: 

• "legally take another's child and bring it up"
• "choose someone to receive special recognition"
• "formally approve or accept"
• "accept responsibility for the maintenance of" 

When I was baptized, I took upon me the name of Jesus Christ. By coming out of the water, I am symbolically/spiritually reborn in Christ, and am thus His. When I take the sacrament each week, I am renewing that baptismal covenant to always remember Him; to always remember whose name I bear; to always remember whose family I am now a part of. With the partaking of that sacrament, a promise is returned to me that I'll always have His spirit with me, to help guide me.

Why It Matters

Members of the LDS church maintain that we all existed as spirits before we are born here, and thusly have the responsibility to procreate and provide more of God's spirit children an opportunity to obtain bodies (see the Plan of Salvation). However, this is not possible for all, and adoption becomes necessary.

Christ extends His family through adoption- the process of God's children accepting and living His son's teachings, and then striving to be like Him. We can extend our families similarly, through adoption. We become Christ's; that child becomes yours. I have a newfound appreciation and respect for the route of adoption. While the process of adoption may differ from that of the Savior's, the hope of a brighter future for the child does not and is nothing to be ashamed of. 

Hunter Rochelle

Saturday - April 4th - The day before delivery
We went to the Wooden Shoe Tulip Festival in Woodburn, OR. Sarah had been having contractions since she woke, but it wasn't until 1:00 that she realized they weren't a fluke and she should probably start tracking them. They were coming every 4 minutes and lasting about 45 seconds. We had read that if this happens for 2 consecutive hours, you should really consider heading to the hospital. Sarah was dead set on holding off as long as possible, to the point of having to crawl through the hospital doors because they were so strong.
Here are pictures from the tulip farm, and the beautiful face of woman in early labor (just scroll to the bottom for the delivery story).

 Way cooler than the tulips were all the "big trucks".

 Checking out the girls.

Checking out another piece of machinery.

Cowboy up. We need to get this city boy out to places like this more often.

Sunday- April 5, Easter

We got home from the tulip farm mid afternoon, and Sarah drew the first of what would be about 3 baths over the next several hours. Sawyer went down around 7:30 per our normal routine, I got ready for bed, and Sarah either paced around the house, tried to sleep, or sat in a tub. Not being entirely sure what to do, I opted for sleep. I woke up around 10:30 (I didn't really wake up, because I never really fell asleep) to Sarah saying "let's go". She had done it. She had held off as long as she could and had finally reached the point of barely bearable pain. She had waited it out just as she had intended to. Up to this point, everything about our pregnancy was going according to our birth plan.

Here are some texts I sent to my mom and sister:

-10:47 PM "Heading to hospital"

-11:13 PM "Just got to our room. Not sure if permanent room or not. They're checking us in in this room, then checking her out to see what's going on"

-12:13 AM "C-section. Prepping now. Sarah's sad. Say prayers"

-12:22 AM "Same scenario. Less than a cm dilated. Baby's heart rate was dropping. About to start c-section now. Hoping to be let in this time...Easter baby" (Something went wrong during Sawyer's delivery and Sarah had to be put under. I wasn't allowed in.)

-12:58 AM

-1:02 AM

-1:09 AM

-1:23 AM "...Sarah's feeling loads better btw"

-1:48 AM "[update] They invited me into the OR to be part of the surgery. Then they asked me to leave because the spinal wasn't working (same as last time). I left, went to our room for 5 min. then they came in and said the spinal started working and I could come back."

-3:05 AM "Oh, I never said, but she was tiny and long. 5 lb 7 oz, 19 in. Still in recovery room for about another 10 min then off to our main room."

-3:38 AM (not a text, just a follow-up picture in my phone)

Why couldn't we deliver vaginally? 

The hour between 11:13 and 12:13 was heart crushing. Sarah's plan for the last couple of years was to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) for child number 2. We hired a doula and preferentially chose midwifes over doctors to help increase our chances of successfully doing so. This idea was quickly thrown out of the window though. Hunter was experiencing what is referred to as "late decels", or "late declarations". This means that after Sarah would experience a contraction, Hunter's heart rate would drop from about 160 to about 130-115 bpm. It is this post-contraction heart rate drop that is problematic and a sign that the baby is experiencing stress. In a state of stress, receptors are prompted to constrict various non-vital peripheral blood vessels, in order to increase blood supply to more vital areas such as the internal organs. This causes a hypertensive (high blood pressure) state in the baby, and a slowed heart rate. Essentially, the late decel, instead of an early decel, is a sign that something isn't right in the womb, namely, the baby is not receiving sufficient oxygen supply.

The doctors were willing to give Sarah and Hunter a chance to do this naturally though so they gave her oxygen as well as an IV to help support the baby during the contractions. It didn't help. The following contractions gradually resulted in dropping heart rates down to about 90 bpm before they began, almost forcefully, using the word "c-section". One last option dealt with dilation. If Sarah was dilated, Hunter might have been able to handle the remaining contractions necessary for delivery. Upon inspection though, Sarah wasn't even 1 cm dilated. This meant that we had several hours worth of contractions leading to heavy labor, something they couldn't be certain that Hunter would be able to handle. (doula showed up around now). At this point, during one of the 90 bpm drops, several people rushed in - nurses, doctors, intern, midwife - and said that Sarah needed to have the c-section now, that they couldn't wait any longer if we wanted to do this in a controlled, non-emergency, environment; one in which I could be involved. Naturally, she's in tears at this point because of how many times that awful "c" word had been thrown around, despite all of our best efforts, despite waiting through contractions all day. For us, it's always been more about the baby. Whatever is the best guarantee of her safety, that's what we want. We decided the c-section really was our best option, and we had a birth plan B.. or maybe it was plan D, I don't know. Either way, we had a plan if it came down to this for what we would do; the plan included me being there, and it included having skin-to-skin the moment Hunter was taken out; we wanted to make it as close to natural birth as possible. 

We headed to the OR and I waited outside while they prepped for surgery. This was identical to our labor story with Sawyer. In delivery 1.0, a nurse came out and told me I could no longer come in. In delivery 2.0, a nurse came out and said "come on in". I was elated. I sat down and listened to the surgeons prepare to make the incision. They poked her to make sure she was numb, but she wasn't. She could feel everything. The anesthesiologist asked, "is it sharp, or is it just pressure?", she said it was sharp. I was then asked to leave and they prepped to put her under. My heart shattered. All I wanted at this point was for plan D to stay in effect, there was no plan E! I very angrily walked back to our room trying to fight out negative thoughts with all of my might. I kept conversing with God and pleading that he help me understand and remain patient; to just trust Him. I had such selfish "why us?" type thoughts. Why did we go into labor? Whey was her heart rate dropping? Why can't we do this naturally? In the seconds that it took me to walk to my room, those thoughts were replaced with complete gratitude that we could even be in a hospital about to have a baby by any means at all; that we have amazing technology to notice potential complications, that we have skilled doctors to help move this along, that we conceived at all and were blessed to be in the hospital together as a family on an Easter Sunday. I then got to reflect on Christ and His resurrection. It quickly went from a very negative and worldly experience to a very spiritual and heavenly one; I was completely humbled. I got to our room and told the doula what was going on. Not 5 minutes went by when a nurse came in and told me that I could come back. Whatever they used to numb Sarah had a delayed affect on her, and had begun to work after I left. I made it back to the room and sat at Sarah's head where we just chit chatted, and laughed through the operation. Occasionally I would peak over the curtain and watch the surgery, it was amazing!

When Hunter was pulled out, she almost immediately let out a cry. This was special for Sarah because she didn't get to hear Sawyer's first cry. Hunter's cry was so dainty. Just very controlled, and inquisitive, like a very sincere inquiry as to why they were taking her out. Or maybe it was just a gentle proclamation of "hello, world". How could I possibly know? Whatever it was, it was beautiful, and very different from Sawyer's. I referred to Sawyer's entry as "triumphant", and remember saying under my breath from the hallway "yeah, give 'em hell, Sawyer!" because his voice was so loud and powerful. Hers though, was so peaceful.

The very moment Hunter was in Sarah's arms, nothing from the past couple hours had mattered. She was genuinely happy, and the means by which she was holding her baby girl was completely negligible. If you know Sarah, you know she does not hold onto negative experiences. Sawyer was a c-section, it was not ideal, but now we have a healthy happy thriving little boy, and Sarah isn't affected negatively by how it came to pass. She has never doubted her abilities as a woman, a wife, or a mother. She has never doubted or questioned God. It is what it is, you grow from it, then let it go. 

The name Hunter Rochelle

We could not agree on a name for the life of us. So many names were pitched from Sarah that I didn't like, and from me that she didn't like, with only a few where there was some overlap. In those cases though we each felt like we were settling to some small degree. We became obsessive over finding the perfect little girls name. Everything we came up in an effort to try and meet in the middle just wasn't working. We'd be committed to one, and then a few days later one of us wouldn't like it anymore. One day in the shower it occurred to me that we needed to go in the opposite direction. I had an idea for a name, but it would require really preparing Sarah, as it was like nothing we'd previously mentioned. I began to prepare her just to find out only the day before she had been wondering if there were any boy/unisex names that would work. I asked her "What do you think about Hunter? She's going to be your daughter, she's going to be dainty, and be beautiful, and be a princess. Maybe the name doesn't have to perfectly convey that idea." She absolutely loved it! Right away, she knew it was it. The middle name then came very easily. Rochelle is Sarah's middle name, and wasn't one we had really experimented with for the other names we were trying. It was like it was already her name, and it just took us a while to find it. A day or two after officially deciding on the name Hunter I was reminded of one of my favorite verses about missionary work: "Behold, I will send for many fishers, saith the Lord, and they shall fish them; and after will I send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain, and from every hill, and out of the holes of the rocks" (Jeremiah 16:16). I believe the opportunity and necessity for missionary work is rapidly increasing, and I have a great hope that she (and Sawyer) will do amazing work in spreading the gospel in her lifetime.

Today

Hunter is really strong. She does great with tummy time, and can already lift her head off the ground and turn it from side to side. She kicks her feet and can scoot herself if she can plant them on something firm. She's just about back to birth weight, and maybe is there by today. Our last check-up was 2 days ago, and she was already 5 lbs 5 oz (born at 5.7, left the hospital at 5.2). Sawyer absolutely adores her and frequently asks to "hold sister".

Where Are The Zimmermans Now?

This could be an uncomfortably long blog for both me the writer and you the reader... Here's the short version:

We're in Portland, OR.

We drove here from Houston, TX. and stayed at 3 different houses along the way.

We stopped in Lubbock, TX., Brighton, CO., Fort Collins, CO., Laramie, WY., Logan, UT. (with a day trip to Salt Lake City, UT.), and then onto Hillsboro, OR., where we awaited our move-in date in Portland.

Miles driven: over 2,000
Hours on the road: 40+
Money on gas: roughly $300
MPG: We just got a Kia Sorento and it scored us an average of 28 MPG, with Laramie, WY. to Logan, UT. being the most draining

Here's our new place:

That couch there is the product of many hours on the free portion of craigslist (also look up freecycle). If you aren't familiar with it, I recommend you begin getting familiar. So much to gain! That bike and I were apart for 4 years. I left it in Fort Collins when I went home from my mission, and on our way here we were finally reunited!

Sunday watermelon

In this image, you can clearly see what I'm calling, our "bagsket". Can you find it? Fun fact, that pineapple cutting board is 1 of 3 cutting boards that we have. I like cutting boards.

The bowls we bought when we needed something to put food in on our honeymoon have been reenlisted. No cupboard is complete without mustache cup; compliments de Sarah's madre.

Fruit, and rad storage tins (one has fruit rollups in it, mmmmm).

One day there will be a table here (and possibly a bar stretched across the threshold that Dash is about to run across), preferably built by my own hands, but we'll see what happens...

..bathroom

..again

We like blue and white stripes right now.

Probably my favorite part of the apartment is, not our washer and dryer, not our 3 cutting boards, not our free couch, not our back patio overlooking a garden and green upon green upon green, not our ceiling-hook-meant-for-hanging-plants-but-now-hangs-my-keys, but it is this, my...our...activities closet (we also store our winter gear here, since we need that now).

Walking out onto this deck is somewhat of a walk of faith, but the view is cool. There is said garden.

This was not posed. She's just always this really, really, ridiculously good looking.

That baby ain't got no pants on.

Sawyer's room. Next on the list is a... wait for it... RASE CAR BED!!

Some of his favorite toys, especially that red Porsche.

1 minute drive from church, 8 miles to the heart of the city (where my school is) with many options of bridges to cross to get there (over the Willamette River), 5 miles from the Portland Temple. 

Today in church we talked about what it means to be blessed, and then segued that into a lesson on Job. One thought came to me that you can either say "blessed" or "fortunate", and when you use fortunate it gives credit to chance, or happenstance. To say "blessed", to me, means to give credit to some form of deity. I feel very blessed. I know everything mentioned in this post, and much much more, was all provided to me by God, and to Him I am grateful.

When It Rains, It Pours

For those of you who are LDS, you know about Fast Sunday. For those of you who aren't LDS here's how it works: On the first sunday of the month the congregation as a whole will fast for whatever they're individual needs may be. In the actual church service the pulpit is opened to the congregation to come up if they feel so inclined, and to simply bare their testimony to the congregation. It's an opportunity to express gratitude to God and to publicly share what has strengthened them in the previous weeks. Great strength comes by listening to the stories and experiences of others, and the spirit is often (certainly not always) felt really strongly. I don't usually feel so inclined to go up, and if I do feel inclined, I admit that I'll often ignore it. It's a difficult concept for me to take that time away from someone else, especially when I often feel I have much more to learn than share. Today, however, I couldn't resist. I felt so strongly that I needed to go up, and I haven't felt it this powerfully in a long time.

Yesterday I took the GRE. Most, if not all, of the graduate schools I have looked at have the same minimum expectation for GRE scoring. To prepare for this I have taken a couple practice tests, as well as studied various topics that would be seen on the GRE. I also got a priesthood blessing to ease my mind, comfort me, and give me any divine counsel that may help me as I prepared to take the exam. During and after the blessing I knew I would do well. I was confident that I would hit the minimum requirement of the schools I'm looking into. Even during the test I just felt good about it, it was awesome. I finished the test, immediately got my results for 2 of the 3 sections (one of the sections has two essays that take longer to grade), and left with a smile on my face, even though I had no idea what my scores meant. Further investigation showed me that my scores were not what I needed them to be. On the verbal reasoning section, I am a little below the minimum requirement, and on quantitative reasoning, I am far below where I need to be. I went into it hopeful to do well, yet prepared to accept whatever I receive. I didn't actually expect to have to be accepting though; I really just hoped God would pick up the slack and help me answer what I could not. Maybe this did happen, maybe I shouldn't have even gotten the score I did, I'll never know. 

I'm a confident person, and I believe I'm someone who has many skills. Academics though, are absolutely my weakest area, to a degree that most people don't really know. People are often shocked to find that I am consistently a C student. It's not a surprise to me to score the lowest marks on exams in classes within my major. I have accepted that, for the most part. Don't get me wrong, I don't say "oh I'll just aim for a C", by any means. I still try. I'm as diligent and dedicated as I know how to be, but time and time again, it is not enough. After the GRE, I hit a low. I described to a friend that for so many months now I have held my head above water, but that my test results immediately pushed me under. I just felt sad, and confused. I found myself being extremely self critical. The worst part is that when I got home, I didn't even have time to reflect on this. I had to, almost immediately, head to campus to continue studying for my third Biochemistry exam on Tuesday. That was like adding weight to my hands splashing around above this water I'm now under. I have yet to pass one of these exams, and so I'm finding myself asking "why even study?". It took everything I had to stay in the library and outline chapters, and it reached a point where I was having to exert even more energy to hold back the tears that just wanted so badly to fall. Even now, I feel like a ninny writing this, I absolutely hate to admit that this is such a trying experience. I just feel emotionally, spiritually, and physically drained; like I have NOTHING left to give, yet the semester isn't over, and I must keep fighting. 

The reason I felt I needed to go up and bare my testimony is because I was feeling ungrateful. I feel as though I am in a dark cloud with no idea what direction I need to go to get out of it, or as said before, I am under water, and I have no strength to get myself above the water. I have prayed, and pleaded with the Lord, but I don't feel stronger. I do know that I'm where He wants me to be (or at least I hope so), and that in days, months, or years, however long it takes, I will be able to look back and see the purpose behind all of this; but for now, I don't see it; at all. I needed to bare my testimony and say that I am grateful. I'm grateful for my wife, for my son, for worthy priesthood holders around me, for close friends I can rely on, for this university, for my Savior, and for many other things that actually matter. I felt as though I needed to remind everyone that it is in these times, when we are at a complete loss of what to do, that we must call on Him more than ever. We need to call on Him always, but to take these as signs that He is not there is absolutely foolish and a mistake. It's easy to love God when life is good, but to love Him and remain faithful during hard times is the truest manifestation of our faith in Him and devotion to Him. 

I'm still without a clue as to what I need to do next. I'm terrified about my future. The future of this Biochemistry class, the future of next semester (it will easily exceed this semester in difficulty), the future of graduate schools, etc. But I know there is a plan. My only sure move is to remain faithful.

Here's the kicker though. Yes, there's more. Today bishop called me in to speak with him. This is how that conversation went:

Bishop Murdock: "Come in here real quick, it'll take 10 seconds. 6 seconds. Maybe 4 seconds... You're going to be our new Elders Quorum President. Think of who you want as your counselors. Good luck. When it rains, it pours"

Me: "...Ok."

I'm terribly intimidated and humbled, but anyone reading this needs to know how grateful I am for this opportunity. I feel confident that it's what I should be doing, and I'm honored to have the opportunity to get to know the men and their families in our ward; to serve them to the best of my ability. What bishop said about "when it rains, it pours" could not be more true for me right now, but rain is essential. Rain cleanses, purifies, and provides growth and life. Hopefully I'm not a cactus...

The weather today: Storming. Seriously, it's thundering and pouring rain. I have heard it thunder in Hawaii, maybe 4 times in our 2.5 years.

All day yesterday, all day today. Just rain to anyone else, 

symbolic to me.

P.S. Sarah and Sawyer are healthy and well. Sawyer can walk now (though he still chooses to crawl), and looks to be finally plumping up since we have him on 3 cups of whole milk a day. He can climb onto and off of the couch, as well as all kinds of chairs. He's even learned he can climb onto the couch, and then extend the gap to get onto the kitchen table. He can climb up and down stairs. He opens all of our cabinets and loves everything inside. He also loves to climb on top of the toilet (we keep the lid down). He's 13 months today.
Things he can sign:
hat
milk
eat
water
bye/hi
tree

Things he can say:
mama
papa
more
no
thank you ("da do")
texas
ezra (his bff)


UPDATE: All of the above was written 2 weeks ago. Today, Sunday Dec. 15, 2013, everything is official. I am the new Elders Quorum President, and the two men I've chosen as counselors are great examples and dear friends of mine, Chase Buie, and Skyler Chambers. I am so excited to get to work with them, and learn from them, as we rely on inspiration and divine guidance to serve the quorum together. I have a few friends who may find this article of interest; it discusses what the LDS believe on the doctrine of priesthood, priesthood keys (authority), and the responsibilities therein.

Changing Careers

*Sawyer update at the bottom

I’m writing to make a thought on my mind an official proclamation. For the past year, if not more, the task of becoming a dentist transitioned from being an exciting adventure into a daunting weight on my shoulders. I’m not sure what caused it; I haven’t yet pinpointed it (the obvious thing may be that the requirements are hard; but they have been manageable, it’s something more than that). For some reason, it began to feel obligatory, and forced; it was a chore to stay excited about going dental, but I knew it was what my family and I had planned on me doing, so I kept the thought there (secretly hoping I would discover something else).

Granted, I have not yet shadowed, so to say, “I know I won’t like it”, is not true at all. But I had to be truthful with myself, and the truth was, I wasn’t interested in finding out anymore, as I once was; I didn’t care to learn more about it. The sole reasons I wanted to be a dentist had nothing to do with the actual day-to-day work I would be doing, it had more to do with the lifestyle it would create: flexible schedule, opportunity to help and even travel, I could be my own boss, I could be in a position of influence, dentists will always be needed, and of course the pay was great to name a few.

Early on in my decision, I was excited about shadowing; I was excited about learning what the field would look like through the lens of the achieved dentist. Somewhere in the last year though, the idea of shadowing lost its excitement and I was no longer curious about it. I’m left to think it must have been my exposure to different careers, different topics through my coursework, different applications of what I had been learning, and of course mingling with many different students in the same classes, though all aiming toward different careers. My mind, and the possibilities, had been opened.

So what will I be going into now?

As is mentioned in my last blog, I ran a half marathon in March. That must have done me in because since then I have only run 5 times, if that, and most of them were sprints. Although the running kind of trailed off, there was a fresh resolve placed within me that has not yet left. 

On February 25th, I began a new 5-week weight lifting program (read about it here). It’s now June 23^rd, and I have, to my complete surprise, stuck with it. I have created a few more programs ranging from 3-5 weeks, and I have incorporated healthy eating, focusing on protein intake accompanied by many fruits and vegetables (I have learned that healthy eating is far simpler than it’s ever made out to be. Not easy, but simple), and trying to decrease carbs, fats, and simple sugars. I can expound more on my ideals with diet, but I’ll save that for a later entry. The point being, I have stuck with this. I have found it fascinating. I have spent my spare time researching different tips and meals for healthy eating. My classes this summer have begun to touch a bit more on things such as break down and synthesis of amino acids, and metabolism will be heavily covered in upcoming semesters. I recently did research, by assignment, comparing sucralose (splenda) verses sucrose to determine if I personally would take splenda. I have loved these topics. I didn’t realize until about 3 weeks ago, that this topic of diet, fitness, and nutrition have sort of taken over me. It then entered my mind that I might find it beneficial to further expand my knowledge on this topic, and see to making this my career. 

So, there you have it, what has unfolded and evolved from my time at BYU-Hawaii, is that I am now directed my efforts toward becoming a Registered Dietitian. I’m in the process of looking up programs to determine which I will apply to. From what I have seen, they are typically 2 years, and many will include an 8-12 month internship, followed by an exam qualifying me for my RD certification. Along with this, I will be getting my Personal Training certification as to make my skill-sets well rounded on diet and fitness, and I’ll begin to help others reach their goals pertaining to health, either by doctors orders, or simply personal goals to be healthier. This is all new, and I still intend to complete my biochemistry degree here. I have much to learn about what this field includes. I could work at hospitals, schools, nursing homes, gyms, private practice, or practically any business where a cafeteria, or meal plan, needs to be created.

I’ll close this off with a theory of mine, and make the follow up my next entry. Tony Horton, if you know P90X, you know Tony Horton: He is in stellar shape and his enthusiasm and optimism make him an incredible coach to working out, and quite the poster boy for the 90-day workout videos. He is a prime example of someone with dedication who has achieved phenomenal results. My theory though, is that you don’t need professional videos to achieve desired results. Seek professional help to insure proper form, so as to avoid injury, but as far as shaping your body, there is free information out there if you need ideas, and you can do it, it's just a matter of your own will power. If videos are how you like to work out however, then by all means, keep at it!

Because I know the day I started working out this year, and because I document my workouts and record what I did, I can determine my 90^th day. My belief is that, although professional videos present rigorous workouts, with top shape models in them, those videos are not the only way you too can look great. I have about 5 weeks until my 90^th day, but for now I’ll post my before and during picture. I am at about 10% body fat, and am shooting for 6-8%. I have gained almost 10 pounds, and I have felt incredible. I’m obviously not a professional, and I accept advice and tips all the time. But I have been persistent. A friend of mine recently sent me a picture after our having this discussion, the picture had a river, and the words, “Strength: a river cuts through a rock not because of its power, but its persistence”, that is what I have learned first and foremost (second bit of wisdom is how crucial accountability is in creating habits; work out with a friend!). Expect the final picture in a little over a month. Until then, just stay persistent, and results will come!

This is what has consumed me, and what I have thoroughly enjoyed. If you have any bits of advice, or want to share your understanding and tricks in the realm of diet and fitness, please do!

I really debated whether or not to share these, because I, personally, find pictures like this pompous. A friend of mine reminded me that if people are interested enough to click this link, then they are likely interested in my progress and achievements. I hope you receive this progress-share in the right light. In the first picture, taken near the start of the year, I was about 143 lbs. In the 2nd I had been focusing on working out, and just getting as many calories as I could (around 3000/day for a while). In the 3rd, taken a few days ago, I had been focussing more on quality of food. This is where I'm about 10% body fat, and about 151 lbs. I had not done cardio leading to the 3rd picture and was working out about 3 times a week. As of last week I have begun swimming as well as working out for 45 minutes twice a day.

*I don't know what I last updated on. Sawyer is not still; he is all over the place every waking moment. He LOVES other babies, but sometimes that love scares them. He always wants to climb on them, or be right up in their face, and they just think he's a little too cray cray. He's babbling a lot, eating solids, and using sippy cups with our help. He now has two bottom teeth, he pulls up on anything he can reach, and he loves to smile and laugh. He is a very independent baby and does fine entertaining himself amongst his shoes, stuffed animals, and books (and empty water bottles, old pizza boxes, and tupperware).

My Half Marathon

Our neighbors, Brian and Maggie, are leaving the island soon. Several weeks ago Maggie set out to train for a half marathon with the goal of doing it before she left. Each week she would tack on more miles to her runs so that come HM day, she'd be well prepared. Somewhere in the mix she got sick, and although it set her back a bit, it didn't stop her. Her husband, Brian, has also been on a physical journey. He got a calorie counting app, was going to the gym, and was running as well. He ended up gaining, from what I recall, 10-15 lbs in a matter of what seemed like weeks, 3 months tops. Naturally, their endeavors inspired me. I've always gone to the gym and found satisfaction in going, however, I never kept up with it or had it engrained into my lifestyle. I would go, end up seeing results, get kind of lazy and slack off a bit, and stop going for a while. Ultimately, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I made my next workout schedule and began going again. Running, however, is the hardest thing for me. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I have hated it my whole life. I always knew it was important, and I always wanted to like it, but it wasn't until my neighbors showed me the "Nike+Running" app, that the motivation set in and I saw a means by which I could achieve my goal. I still won't call myself a runner, and there are days where I'll still say boldly, "I hate running", but with that hate, I can now also say "I love running".
Brian and Maggie invited me to do their HM with them, and at first I said sure, just being optimistic and gung-ho. I then realized (and was reminded by a few friends) that I was not at all training; although my runs were about every other day, they consisted of 1 and 2 miles, 3 miles max. I was not preparing to endure a grueling 13.11 miles, as Maggie and Brian had been doing. I then declined and said I would meet them for their last 3 or 4 and attempt doing that with them. Things changed when they came over the night before to talk about their plans. We were to pick them up at Waimea and we were mapping out when we'd need to leave to get there just before them. They again invited me. My extremely supportive and optimistic wife said to me, "You should just try it. I bet you can do it", and I thought that was a great point. I didn't need to see it as an all-or-nothing kind of thing. I was allowed to just start with them and see how far I could get. There would be no shame in stopping short of Waimea, especially since I had not been training for it.
5:00 AM the next day came. I woke up and started getting ready. I got changed, I got my Camelbak filled up, and I got a bag of honey ready to slurp down if I reached Turtle Bay, the approximated halfway point. We met in front of the Laie Temple at 5:30, waited about 15 minutes for others who were invited to attend, and when no one else showed, we started our music and our feet.
I knew to expect real struggle around 6 miles. Before this moment, my longest two runs were just over 6 miles, and just over 7 miles. Now, imagine the angst I felt when I realized that this 6 mile mark I was afraid of, was not even a halfway point; I'd have to do it twice, plus some.
To jump ahead, I was right. 6 miles hit and I was struggling. My lungs felt great, and my joints felt great. My calves however, were on fire. I recently changed my run. A couple weeks ago I obtained an injury, and a friend of mine said it sounded like I was heel striking according to the pain I described. He was right. I adjusted accordingly by attempting to land only on the balls of my feet, and it has made ALL the difference. No joint pain when running any longer, but man, my calves get worked! At 8 miles, I decided to stop. I contemplated whether or not I would sit and wait it out, or if I would keep running. I contemplated whether or not that meant I was going to call Sarah to come get me. At one point I tried to immediately start running again, and I was unable. I ultimately decided I would walk; I decided even if I had to walk the remainder of the 5 miles, that I would do so, and finish. I hoped I would be able to start running again, but in that moment I knew I just needed to start with walking. I want to talk about the things that motivated me. There was one particular thought I didn't think I would consider.
I thought about the music I was listening to. I don't need fast paced music to run well (though I do use it and like it). What I need is music with a powerful message. If it's a song that makes me contemplate and wonder, I often internalize it and turn that focus into an energy that allows my legs to keep moving. This was my first surprise with distance running. I see it as a very therapeutic thing; a way to think and become better.
I thought about the people driving by. When I see runners, I feel inspired. Even when I admittedly hated running enough not to do it, I would always think to myself "good for you" as I passed runners. I wanted to look strong for those passing me. I want them to think they can do it too, instead of "wow... that guy looks like hell. I won't be doing that any time soon"
I think about the others running on the same path as myself. I think of us as a team, and I want to be an optimistic and strong member of the team, not the one that brings the team down.
I thought about Sarah and Sawyer. I wanted to prove Sarah right when she said "I bet you can do it". I never want to give her any reason to doubt me, and want more than anything to be her greatest hero. That idea is certainly applied to Sawyer too, so I look forward to what I can achieve when I know he's observing my struggles.
I did the whole just-make-it-to-that-bridge thing, and then setting a new short term goal when I arrived.
Lastly, the one that really surprised me. I thought about Jesus Christ. I strongly believe He suffered for my sins. I believe He felt every bit of pain that I will feel in this life; that we all will feel in this life. I don't claim to know how He did it, but I believe that He did. I thought about the pain I felt while running, and thought how that was nothing compared to what He must have had placed on His shoulder (metaphorically and literally). When I thought about that, it made me want to keep running. In a way, I wanted to endure as He did. I never anticipated this thought would cross my mind, but it was probably the most powerful motivation for me.
I walked for 3/4 of a mile. After that I decided I needed to start running again. All of these thoughts accumulated and I couldn't bare to walk any longer. But once running again, I could hardly bare the crash of each step. Each one caused such an awareness of the weight of my body crashing down upon itself; each one took all of my strength I had to push through, and with each one I kept thinking "I will adjust. I will adjust. If I keep pushing through this, I'll find my rhythm again and not notice how heavy I feel". I had no idea if that's really what would happen. No one had told me what it's like to continue running after having stopped. I hadn't talked to anyone about this run and what to expect. Sure enough, I eventually caught my rhythm and wasn't as aware of each crashing step. This persisted for the next 4+ miles. Somehow, I was able to finish.
I got to Waimea and was greeted by Sarah and Sawyer hanging out on the beach. Sarah tossed me an MRE and I had one of the most deserved meals of my life; an understatement considering the MRE still didn't restore the calories I had burned on the run.
A huge thanks to Brian and Maggie for encouraging and motivating me, my wife for believing in me and knowing how to get me to do something, and Richard for giving me the MRE a few weeks back. Actually, I'm also thankful for those who reminded me I hadn't really been training for this. A few times during the run I thought to myself, "man, I was not ready for this... I should finish it anyway."
As a closer, for those of you looking to try this out, here are the details of each run in March leading up to, and including, the HM:
Distance: Pace
4.51 mi: 9'49"/mi
2.45 mi: 10'00"/mi
1.02 mi: 6'50"/mi
1.13 mi: 7'22"/mi
2.01 mi: 7'32"/mi
1.00 mi: 7'38"/mi
0.55 mi: 7'26"/mi
1.00 mi: 7'31"/mi
2.03 mi: 7'56"/mi
13.1 mi: 11'21/mi (including my walking pace. My running pace was mid-to-high 10'/mi).

The beginning of the north shore bike path.

Just a few miles left.

Waimea bridge. Parking lot just on the other side of those trees.

Snapping pictures while running. Here's where I expected my fan club.

...they were on the beach.

My app wasn't calibrated well. It should have said 13.11 miles upon entering

the parking lot, but it made me run beyond it until the trail ended and then back some.

(Family in blue tent).

Post-run, awkward head tilt picture.

My biggest fan and I.

Nike+Running color codes your run based on your fastest

and slowest pace.

SO happy we left this in the car on accident!

 

And lastly, a cute baby eating sand.