Tri- a little harder

I'm not sure what happened actually.

If you would have asked me a year ago if I would ever run a race of any kind, I probably would have just laughed. I'm just not that kind of gal. I don't run. I don't race. I don't pay do things that I can easily do for free (like put on shoes or ride a bike).

While I was in Korea though I realized something: I can do hard things. I remember feeling this when I would wake up in the morning and wish more than anything to go home, to go back to the United States and back to the people and things that I knew and loved. I wanted so badly for things to be easy again, to fit in and to not just struggle and make it through the day, but to do things that I knew I could do well. I would pray every morning for the energy and the faith to get through another day. I could never look farther than that.

"Dear Heavenly Father," I'd plead, "help me to get through the day. I promise I will do the best I can today, but just send me home tomorrow."

And then about half way through I realized that I could do it. I looked back at all the days that had gone by and realized that there were fewer in front than behind. I realized that I had made it to the top of my mountain and the rest was possible.

I can do hard things.

This has become my mantra in life. I bike to and from work most days and every time I have this horrible hill to get over. It wouldn't be so bad if I had a bike that works and could actually climb any sort of an incline without breaking out of gear and causing my chain to jump. However, since I don't right now, I just grit my teeth, pedal a little harder, and mutter "I can do hard things, I can do hard things."

And that's how it started.

I began to start running in my seventh transfer, early last summer when I first was companions with Lee Kyung Ran. I remember that she would struggle out of bed every morning, not because she wanted to, but just because she wanted to be obedient. I didn't tell her that this was actually the first time I ran every morning with my companion. Every day I would set a new goal, one more lap, slightly faster, fewer stops, and on and on it went. Even in the winter we would wake up and watch as the warm air from our lungs would illuminate our path.

One of our investigators ran marathons. We went running with her and her parents one evening and I realized that although it was still beyong my capacity, it was not beyond my dreams. I could dream and plan and I could do it. So as soon as I got home I started my training schedule and in a little more than a month I have a marathon planned.

I was told though that more enjoyable than marathons are triathalons. So when I heard abou the free one happening this Saturday I immeadiately went online and signed up me and my younger brother and sister. And I did it. I even swam the entire 24 laps without a break and without getting water up my nose (a first in my life).

How does it feel?

Refreshing.

Removing the subtitles

We all love the commentary, the sarcasm, the one who adds flavor and meaning and their own spin to things. I think that's why we love the news. We could get the same information in a much less flashy, must less biased manner, but then it wouldn't be news. Instead it would just be congress, talking of another bill, another imperfect man doing his best to lead a country, crimes from a moment of passion instead of the crime of a century.

But I've been trying to improve my language abilities, so I've decided to go without subtitles. At first it was confusing and I wondered if I was really catching everything. Could I really understand everything? Didn't I need other people to interpret and scrutinize? It requires a little more concentration, a little more astuteness, but once you don't have to watch the words you can begin to watch their faces. You pick up the subtle nuances of voice inflection, the turn of a head, you can begin to see if for yourself instead of through a lens.

So I decided to put it to the test, not only would it be for my Korean dramas, but I'd try it in real life. Not put words in people's mouths, not spend my time figuring out what I wanted them to be or mean or say. Instead I would spend less time analyzing and more time observing. More time really listening instead of mentally summarizing and compartmentalizing.

And although I can't say I'm a native, I'm definitely more fluent.