I'm beggging for your help! Part 2.

THIS IS PART 2. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ PART 1 SSSTOOOP !!


(This is stop with much exageration as I would say it.. not to be confused with stoop. I do not want to you stoop.)



Go back RIGHT NOW and read Part 1.


Do it.


I PROMISE Part 2 will still be here when you are finished.




IF you are this far I am assuming that with all the honesty you possess that you have already completely  read Part 1.




I'm trusting you.




You may now start Part 2.






Imagine this. You are sitting on the couch and you just finished a really great soda and a slice of pizza. It really hit the spot. Now you have a paper plate and a can leftover for trash. At the end of the couch there is a trash can, but as you lay there rubbing your tummy and thinking about how perfect the crust was and how the soda was just the right amount of fizzy, you think, "Eh... I'll throw it away when I get up." Well, at least that's what I would think that most people would think...that's what Iiii think at least. (I acknowledge that there are a few highly-motivated people that would actually get up and throw away their trash immediately. I am assuming that those people are few and far between. If you are one of those people: Congratulations.) Now, back to normal thought, (I'll throw it a way when I get up.) Boys... they don't have that. I THINK what they think is, "Eh... I'll throw it away later." When is later? That could mean.... when they get up, when they feel like it, next time they feel as though they have extra energy, the next time they have time to clean the house, right before a woman in their life yells at them over it, when a woman in their life is already yelling at them about it.... I'm not sure exactly when later is, but neither are they. Moral of the story? If you have any place in your house that is more than ONE ARM'S REACH away from a trash can.... expect trash to accumulate there. Until Later. 




Another problem with later? Clothes. Ugghhh. Clothes. No matter the goodness of your heart. No matter the sweat you dedicate. No matter how inconveniently placed in the middle of the floor. Clothes are never picked up. You can promise to sort, wash, dry, fold, and resort all clothes if they would only put them up where they go! Shoot. You don't even have to care if they go in any place in particular... just that they are off the living room floor and in their respective bedrooms or sleeping areas. They will promise that they will put them up later.  Chalk that up on the list of things I don't understand. WHY would you rather step over your clothes for two whole weeks than take two whole minutes and put.them.up? I don't get it...and I probably never will.


Regardless of how many times, though, that the man in your life (be it boyfriend, husband, son, brother..uncle?) fails to make it to the trash can with his paper plate or newspaper...You love him. Say it. Say it every time you think it, and mean it every time you say it. Then whenever all the planets line up and he throws away his own trash or picks up his own clothes; thank him. Tell him you appreciate the extra effort he went through to please you. Sometimes, I know it is hard to be nice and not respond with, "Good for you. You did what I asked ONCE. Now, why can't you just do that all the time...blah blah blah."  You see, if this is your response, they will think, "I get yelled at when I don't do what she wants...AND I get yelled at when I do what she wants. If she is never happy, I will just be lazy and do what I want to do. Now reason to try to please her." So, instead.. make a big deal of it. Tell him you appreciate is effort. Oh and that other thing that he did earlier today, you appreciate that too. Mean it. Then when you leave or go to bed, remind him that you love him. Again, mean it. Appreciation and "I love you"s are not said enough. Take advantage of their power and use them every day. It's something I've learned that makes every field around here just a little bit smoother.

If you know me well..or have spent any time so far reading this blog, I trust that you know that I love to cook, I love to bake, AND I love a clean kitchen. However, I am quite possibly the world's messiest cook by nature. It took weeks of practicing twice a day to get this one... the kitchen no longer looks like all the cabinets puked up dirty dishes when I am done. This by no means, means that I have actually become a "cleaner" cook, I've just learned how to rinse or wash the dishes as I go. That way I only have one or two dishes to throw in the dishwasher and the countertops to wipe down and I'm done with the clean up! Yay!

Since you know now that I am a messy cook and that I have learned to be "cleaner," I'll let you in on a little secret of mine: When I cook, it's not just the kitchen that gets dirty. It's me too! I have this fantastic cousin that knows me well, so before I started this, dare I say... mess, she gave me some things that a good cook needs: a few great spices, everything I need to make my grandma's chocolate sheet cake, AND an apron. It's adorable. I'll post a picture of it one day. Anyway, I have learned that I should ALWAYS wear it. It saves my shirts from grease stains, and the rest of me from flour. It's fantastic! However, I.do.not.understand. whyyyy I can never, ever, even if my life depended on it, remember to take it off before I leave the house? I finish a meal. I throw the last of the dishes in the dish washer. I load the car. I drive way. Now.... sometimes I remember as I buckle in, but I've gotten so used to me in it that now I hardly notice it. I just buckle in right over it. Sometimes I get to the gas station and as I get out of fill up I remember. Sometimes I make it all the way out to the field... Then I always hurriedly take it off and throw it back in my car, hoping no one notices. They guys have called me out on it before, but I just pretend to ignore them. Am I losing my mind already? Why can't I remember?


One thing that I have decided though, not necessarily learned is that Sister Wives have it easy. I guess there is this show on some channel (I don't actually know because I've never actually seen it) called Sister Wives. It's, I guess, a documentary on a group of women that have decided to live together and all love one man. IT TAKES SEVEN WOMEN TO HAVE ONE HUSBAND. I, however, was laundry-ing, cleaning, and cooking for seven men. So maybe the Sister Wives don't just have it easy...they are much, much smarter that I am.

Sister Wives, while a little bit crazy I think, might have taken the right idea a little too far. I love Lance. I like all the guys that work for him. I like most of the guys that I get to meet through them. But, there is just ONE problem with all the guys... its that they are guys. They never go away and they never stop being guys. While I like them all.. they are not my best friends, they are not my family, and they are not my mom. Phone calls have saved my life. Even if it's just a short call to my mom or sister asking them to proof read my blogs before I publish them so everyone can read them or what starts out to be a short call to Erin to tell her that I told a story about her that ends up being an hour long. Talks with my dad and my aunt Jeanette and Codee, my cousins Dawn and Ginger, FaceTime with Kelsey and Lindsay...all have saved my life one day or another when I needed an ear to complain to or a good laugh after something stupid I've done. The phone was a great invention and I try to take full advantage of it. If you are away from family or friends CALL them. Not only has it saved my life, but my sanity. If they don't answer, leave them a ridiculously stupid voicemail so they have to call you back to tell you how dumb you are. You will laugh and it will be worth it.


Part II is now over. Call someone you love. Right. Now.

I'll have Part III soon!

Photo Blog: To give you a little piece of our lives

Harvest is a lot of hard work, dirty hands, stinky feet, and little sleep. But sometimes, between the meals that are hours too late and the days that are way too long we see something beautiful. God reminds us everyday that He is a part of everything we do. So I gathered some of my very favorite pictures from so far in the season to share a little bit of our "everyday" day with you, so you can see some of God's beauty that you might not get inside the four walls of an office. Some are funny, some are pretty, but as a whole I hope that they bring a smile to your face and a greater understanding of our lives out here. 

Most were taken by me, but quite a few were taken by Derrick Fast, one of the guys working with us. 

Enjoy!

Part of the Glass Mountains, which we refer to commonly as "The Valley" 

Lance checking wheat moisture in Texas

Making sandwiches To Go in one of the hotels

This is one of the pickups with a header trailer attached to it. The header is on it. From bumper to bumper it is about 5' longer than a semi and it is what I usually drive when we are moving locations. 

This one makes me laugh. These are the REAL gears that are inside a combine. NOT 1st, 2nd, or 3rd gears, but turtle, rabbit, or really fast rabbit. 

This is my puppy, Jagger.

Jagger is fully prepared to be a harvester. He is ready to go at a moments notice. 

Lance hasn't slept in two weeks and I am sweaty, but I had to put this up here because it is, I think, the ONLY picture I have ever been able to bully him into taking with me. 

We were point B (the green one) on the map. All the dots were Colorado fires. Other than one close call we stayed safe. 

4th & 4th. One of the reasons I was ready to leave our last location. 

When we started to move our combines one morning, we woke a raccoon. Apparently, it decided to "rent" our Hotel Header for a good night's sleep. 

How to test wheat in four easy steps, as presented to you by Derrick Fast. 

The "fleet" 

 Just enough spaghetti to feed the crew with NO leftovers. (Oh! and there was green beans and garlic bread to go around.) 

I hope you enjoyed this. I will try to keep collecting pictures so you can get a better glimpse of what we are doing and where we are. For now, South Dakota. 

I'm beggging for your help! Part 1.

There are some things that I have learned and some things that I will never understand.

I learned to pee outside. That was QUITE an experience for me... if you don't know about it yet, you can read alllll about it on the post titled "There are some things that you just need to know..."

While not all the things that I have learned are quite as "entire blog filling information" as how to pee outside, they are still noteworthy. I know I'm only on my third month of this little fiasco, but I've been keeping a list. Yes, I really have. There are somethings that I have learned and others that I will never understand. I hope this list is enlightening. Also, I'm beggging for your help if you have any way to enlighten me on any of the things that I hope to gain insight to....

I'll do my best to write them here as I have learned or been confounded by them through my experience...

The first thing that I learned, always keep a sharpie, pen, and legal notepad handy. You NEVER know when you will need to write down a list of acres on a farmer's fields or you will have to write your own name on something you don't want someone else to get before you get back to it. Like restaurant leftovers.

One of the first things that hinted to me that I am not all knowing, not all solving, and definitely NOT all understanding: HOW DO BOYS MAKE A TOILET SO FILTHY?? I could clean their bathroom every.single.day and by morning there would be bugs crawling in it, mold growing everywhere, stains from the floor to the ceiling, and stench that reaches 4 feet outside the door. I.DON'T.GET.IT. Will I ever??

When I am not in a hotel, or when I have any type of access to a kitchen (which hasn't been much lately do to my stay in this terrible hotel.. ) I try to make 2 meals a day + for up to 7 men + for as many days as I can while avoiding the grocery store = My new ability to make a really impressive grocery list. Usually with ONE list, I can make it 3 1/2 weeks without a new trip to the store. Aaand since I buy most things off brand, I can do it at, what I think is, a ridiculously reasonable price. Should I write a whole blog post about it and then pin it to my Pinterest? We'll see...

Like I said, staying in this miserable hotel for so long, I have not cooked or had anyone's home cooked food in a while now. Our main source of nutrition? McDonald's. We can order any thing that we want that's off of the Dollar Menu. That means our options are: Drink, McDouble or McChicken, and/or Small Fries. If you are hungry, you can order up to three of the actual sandwiches. Everyone switches up their order from time to time as to not get to bored with their limited choices, and when hard work is done or on special occasions like rain days, Lance takes us somewhere a little nicer. Just for us. Because? LANCE WILL NEVER EVER GET TIRED OF MCDOUBLES AND I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY.  He literally has no preference on bought food. He cares the same about Sonic as he does steak, and the same about McDonald's as he does Olive Garden.... only McDonald's is cheaper. He does say he prefers home cooked meals... but I really think that he doesn't want to hurt my feelings and he doesn't want my brother-in-law to stop feeding him steaks when we come over... I shall never know.

With the boys at the field so much, and me left behind to do summer school, run errands, bill farmers...whatever my task is for the day... I am left alone A. Lot. The only problem with that is... I hate being alone. I used to tolerate it..barely. Then I moved into a building full of 300 other girls and never from that moment on did anything by myself ever again. Now I am terrible at being alone. Here is what I've learned. When by yourself for sometimes 18 hours plus days: Open ALL the windows... if its too hot outside, just open all the curtains, In the rooms with little windows or no windows at all.. turn on the light. Next, never let it be quiet. I really don't like TV very much, but I like the music channels, so I turn them on, and if possible have as many machines around you running: the dish washer, clothes washer, dryer, whatever you have that makes noise. Aaand because I've never lived without a pet, and I am one of those people that, on certain days, is capable of loving my dog more than my own sister...I try to keep my dog with me wherever I go.
*My dog always loves me, never has any conflicting obligations, and will let me talk forever and never once try to interrupt me.


I have also learned.. to never lock your keys in your car.... Who am I kidding? It will happen again. What I really learned.... If you are going to accidentally lock your keys in your car because you just can't stay away from your ridiculously cute nephew, do it on a rain day so you can have time, meaning the next 6 hours and 45 minutes, to round up one of your spare spare-keys.

Now, living in a new world that I knew hardly anything about a couple months ago can be overwhelming. Discouraging even on some days. It is also a big blow to my ego, when I feel quite helpless. (Sometimes we need one more person to drive this semi, or a person to fill in on a combine, or...the list could go on..  Since my job out here is entirely different from all of that, I really know nothing about it and am incapable of helping no matter how much I would like to.) I hate that part. So, instead of focusing on that, I focus on other things. People have always heard a thousand times over that "It's the little things that mean the most..." and while I don't necessarily believe that they mean the most, I do believe that when you focus on the little things that make you happy, they end up being the source of your happiness. Not because they innately create a superfluous amount of joy, but because you have placed your happiness in them and therefore they hold that in an make you feel a little bit better about your life on a day that you drop your toothbrush in the toilet while brushing your teeth and your day just goes downhill from there... The things that make me feel like I have my life together? (Don't.Laugh. I'mnotkiddingaboutthisoneguys) Brushing my teeth & sometimes flossing before I go to bed at night. And cleaning my house, kitchen, hotel room... whatever, before I go to bed giving me the pleasure of waking up to a clean place and a clean start to a new day. (Now does it make a little more sense why I got all "experience the wrath of Ally" on the hotel manager?)

Now this part is bewildering to me. Why.can.boys.only.use.one.towel.once? They are at home or they are at a hotel: One use--->Towel is on the ground. Are they so dirty after they are finished showering that the towel is no longer usable? Do they think that the maids or I will run out of things to do if there is an pile of laundry any less than eye-level and so are comforting us with job security? Are they sooooo tirrrred after a long day of work that they don't posses the physical strength to raise their slightly damp towel the height of the towel rack? I'm lost.

Something that I have learned. <3 This is the soul reason that this blog is still called "HappinesswithaHarvester." You are never too busy for a kiss. And by busy, I could mean dirty, stinky, grumpy, tired, OR busy. Whatever the situation, you always have time for kiss. It's one of "those little things" that keep Lance and I going...that keep us tolerating each other... and keep the name of this blog from changing to: hatefulnesswithaharvester, hastinessofaharvester, or holdyournosebecauseoftheharvesters.

Conundrum number...whatever. Why do boys refuse to eat vegetables? Is it because they aren't made by McDonald's.. furthermore because they aren't on the Dollar Menu at McDonald's? Is it because no one actually "likes" vegetables, but girls eat them and pretend to like them so they can keep or attempt to regain a "girlish figure?" Is it because....honestly only rabbits should be eating all that "green stuff?" Is it because they are just superior human beings and they have no need to eat vegetables, they can literally eat a few McDoubles for every meal and still wear a size smaller pants than me? I will never know.


Now because I am tired... I'm done for the night.. but there will be more tomorrow.

I felt like those rights had been taken from me...

	Allyson
	Allyson A person that is always smiling, no matter how hard of a time they are going through. A person who can brighten up a room by just walking in to it, and enchant a room by their smile. A person that can make you stop in your tracks as they stare at you, their eyes so magical from just a random stare. A person that likes kit kats and roses. A person that when you get to talk to them you get butterflies floating around. Someone that is so Attractive words can not describe them. A person that dislikes sexy but loves pretty. Someone that asks if they look alright but you already know they are the prettiest person in the world.

That is an exact copy of my UrbanDictionary.com'd name. However, I don't really like roses; I think that they are a little cliche. And I don't think that there is anyone on Earth that actually believes all that other crap. Except for maybe Lance, and if he does.... He would NEVER say it out loud. 

*Feel free to Urban Dictionary your name. However, it is not exactly a clean website. The purpose of the website? To accurately define slang words you or your kids hear WITHOUT googling them because that could get dangerous. Aside from all that it is a fun (and usually complimentary) thing to find out what your name says about you. 

Okay... so the real me? I have the capability of being sweet. (Disregarding the fact that I was a devil child...maybe I will tell you a story about that one day.) I try to be healthy...but I LOVE many foods that are bad for me. (Like Kit-Kats) I can work hard. I like to read books. I tend to be a little on the compulsive side. I'm soft spoken with most people EXCEPT for family. I really hate talking on the phone to people I don't know really well. But.. whenever someone I care about is mistreated or I think that I am being wronged.. I get... a little... wwwwiry. 

Wiry: Tendency for me to gather all of my confrontational bones and do something about it. My voice might become a little louder than necessary. The pitch I speak in might elevate a little. And I usually don't stop this behavior until I get my way. Usually, the situation is rectified. 

Yesterday. I got a little wiry. 

You see... I'm in a hotel. I've been in ever changing hotels since May 12th. I am also a little compulsive.  Part of staying in a hotel is paying for it, and paying for #1 A safe place to sleep at night and #2 To be taken care of: offered toiletries, a clean room, and a made bed with clean sheets. I felt like those rights had been taken from me.... here's how it went. 

1. Late one night, a few nights ago now, I hear shouting outside my door. Now, keep in mind that I have been a Resident Assistance, RA, at a girls' dorm for two years now and I KNOW the difference between happy yelling, sad yelling, mad yelling, and scary yelling. This shouting that I heard... it was scary yelling. It's not my business, so I decide that it was some kind of domestic dispute, I lock my door, and I tell Jagger that he isn't allowed to go outside again until the light of the morning. I fall asleep. 

A few days later, talking to Lance, I find out that it was definitely scary yelling. Two people had gotten in a fight, threats were made, weapons were present, and cops were called. Now, nothing major happened, but I still felt a little violated in the sense that I am paying for safety, and while I have a lock on my door, the hotel itself was not safe for me that night. 

2. Then, after running errands with Lance for most of the day, (Which is a coveted day for me... full of billing farmers, straightening things out, and getting ready to move to our next location... because I get to spend several hours in a row with Lance... and that almost never happens. To be honest, I was as worried as the next person... dating your boss, working for your boyfriend, traveling with your significant other for seven months... however you put it, it sounds kind of tricky. Rest your minds, so far, it is working quite well. The only problem is that I actually don't get to see him as often or as long as I'd like to.) we came back to my room to find it uncleaned. 

Now this wouldn't normally be a big deal.... but... Given my background includes a couple years of cleaning as a hotel maid when I was in high school... The last two days, I was in my room when the maids came by and in order to give them a break and to not make them feel awkward for being in the room while they cleaned it, I opted to skip the cleaning of my room in favor of new towels and them taking my trash with them. So, when I came back to my uncleaned room that I had been away from all day, giving them PLENTY of time to clean it while I was out, I was a little perturbed. 

BUT... I didn't say anything about it. I did something worse... I stewed on it. 

I played solitaire on my phone. I made huffy breaths. The longer I sat there the more mad I got. 

Then. I went up to the front desk to talk to the manager. I politely asked, yes. politely., why my room had not been cleaned that day. She stared at me blankly. She looked at the maids. She rustled through some papers. FINALLLY... she tried to talk. 

What she said? Something about my credit card and company policy... and something about how it is all Chris' fault. 

THEN. I was mad. My credit card is my business. Not hers. If she has concern for me paying my bill she should have talked to me. NOT "gotten my attention" for withholding services that I have already paid for. Company policy? Apparently it says that extended stay guests must pay weekly. That would have been fine, except for she had asked yesterday when I would be paying for my stay and I responded that I would pay at the end of my time there. Did she have a problem with it? Not at all. It's all Chris' fault? He might have been a poor manager. I happened to have liked him when he was here, but aside from that... my room not getting cleaned today is not Chris' fault. He isn't here. He no longer works here, it doesn't matter that he is no longer answering his phone to deal with the business of his former job. And SHE had been the manager for several days now. 

*I know that stepping into a new management position is hard. I know that there will be strings laid down and the new person not only has to find them and pick them up, but then also figure out what to do with them. I know that is hard. I know because I have been a stand in manager before for something that I knew little about. (I was a stand in manager for a YMCA pool in Illinois after having no experience whatsoever in being a lifeguard other than what I learned on YouTube and my lifeguarding class a few weeks before.)

When I pointed all this out to her she said that she didn't want to talk business on a "Sunday" and I "pay for privacy" so she didn't want to come around knocking on doors and disturbing people about "business." She, however, was "sticking her neck out for all of our group staying at the hotel" by "overlooking the company policy" and not making us pay her "on the spot."

Then... I got really mad.

You see, she had violated "privacy" for knocking on my door and of all days... it was a Sunday! Just the day before. When she knocked, she talked business. She wanted to know how much longer we planned on staying there so she could book our room for the next guest. And, if she was really "sticking her neck out for me" and "assuming that I am good for my word and my payment" WHY WAS SHE WITHHOLDING SERVICES?? Her answer? She "had to get our attention somehow." As if six of us aren't walking around this hotel at all hours of the day and night running errands, letting my dog out, grabbing meals, and everything else we do. It must have been impossible for her to find any of us and talk to us about it.

The one thing that makes me the most mad about all this is that the manager was incapable of owning her actions and in the end, a few nights of my room was promised to not be charged, she maintained that it was "all Chris' fault."

No one likes humble pie...but we all have to eat it. Even you new manager at Knights Inn.

But Hey! On the bright side... at this hotel I can have ALL THE ALIENS I WANT! 

Even when someone hopes your knees break...

I had this class with a good friend of mine named Kaylen. I'm so glad I did, because if I hadn't there would be no one to share this experience with me.

It was Principles and Theories of Psychotherapy. What it was about didn't really matter. What mattered was that we sat next to each other and mutually hated the generally mind numbing hour and a half of the class. One day we were sitting in class watching a video of a patient and therapist. Through the conversation over his fear of confrontation the therapist said, "Just imagine me being there to give you a gentle, loving kick in the pants." Weird. I know. When our professor repeated it, it got even weirder.

So from that day on, whenever we were studying..or not studying. Or having a rough day, or threatening to avoid the whole world for a while one would text the other and say, "Just imagine me being there to give you a gentle, loving kick in the pants." If it did nothing besides giving both of us a good mid-day giggle, it still helped.


I have another good friend. Her name is Erin.

Erin is honest to a fault, but one of the most caring, most helpful, most willing to serve people I have ever been around. With all of those things being said. Sometimes we would run together.

Now you have to understand, I usually asked her to go with me. And she usually did.. just for me.
I honestly HATE running. I talk about it all nice and stuff to try to convince myself that it's not the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I still don't like it. And she knew I probably wouldn't go without her. And due to our mutual desire to be healthy, profitable individuals....

We would run.

And by run, I mean a slow jog. If I were to jog at my pace in public, I would literally get run over by those old lady power walkers. (Particularly the ones in the Enid mall) But we would do it just the same.

Erin would match my pace. The same events happen every time we run together.


It goes like this:

Block one: I say out loud: Wow! This was a great idea. We are going to feel so good when we finish. Thank you Erin for running with me.
Block two: I'm getting tired. Let's stop now.
Block three: I'm stopping now. (Usually an empty threat at this point.)


*To both of these comments Erin would reply, No Allyson, we have to keep going. in a nice voice. Then she may or may not start to ignore me.

Block four: I almost stop talking. I have to conserve my breath in order to not die.
After a few more blocks: I completely stop talking, and hoping that she won't notice I usually stop running too.

*She ALWAYS notices.

It is at this point that she runs back to me LITERALLY holds my hand and drags me for a few blocks. I complain the whole time: Erin you are hurting me! Erin you are embarrassing me! Erin you have to stop! Erin I PROMISE I will start running again if you just let go! Erin my knee caps are going to break if you drag me any farther! Erin...Erin.. ERIN!! (My voice may or may not get screechier with every sentence, by the end it might be a whole octave higher than what dogs can hear.)

Finally she lets me go after at least 17 people have seen us running down the street holding hands like fools.

Then we start running normally again. It is usually at this point that I start to hate her a little. I start with little things. I hope that she hurts as bad as I do and we can slow down. Then I start hoping that she will trip and fall and we would have no other choice but to walk back home. Then I start hoping that she will trip and fall and it will be so bad we would have to call someone to come get us and drive us back home. Soon I start hoping that both of her knees will break and she can never run again.

* I would NEVER EVER actually want any of these things to happen, I am just trying to explain the mental hate I have for running. When I am running it turns into mental hate for Erin. I love Erin and I will always run with her. She also knows all the bad things I think about her when we run together. (And being the saint that she is, she still always runs with me.)

When I get quiet for a while, Erin usually realizes that my mind is now at the quietly hating her stage so she talks to me to help. She asks me how I am doing. My response? I'm dying.

Erin: Oh? You are dying?
Me: Yes.
Erin: That's too bad Allyson. What hurts?
Me: Everything
Erin: Okay. Do your lungs hurt? Do your muscles hurt? Do your joints hurt?
Me: My lungs hurt because I can't breathe. And of course my muscles and joints hurt. I'm in pain.
Erin: What kind of pain Allyson?
Me: Agonizing.
Erin: That's not a pain descriptor, Allyson. Is your pain: shooting, burning, throbbing...?
Me: Erin. Its agggonizing.
Erin: Okay... on a scale of one to ten how bad is it?
Me: Ten!

*Okay everyone, except for me the moment I say it, knows that this isn't true. It's just the running hate that speaks for me.

So then Erin changes the subject.

Erin: Allyson. This is good for your lungs.
Me: I hate my lungs.
Erin: Allyson. This is good for your body.
Me: I hate my body. I just wanna be fat and happy.

Shortly after this is when Erin gets tired of my crap.

Erin: ALLYSON. MY MOM CAN RUN FASTER THAN YOU AND SHE DOESN'T COMPLAIN NEARLY AS MUCH AS YOU DO, SO GET.IT.TOGETHER.

*All of those words were true. I have no doubt that her mother could out run me. Her mother is one of those real-life heroes, at least to me.

So, I suck it up. I complain a little less. And shortly our run is over.


I tell you both of these stories because they make me happy. They help me through a rough day. They get my butt motivated to put on my running shoes and then push myself knowing that I am lucky to have the ability to run, even though I hate it.

I also tell you this because if you have a Kaylen or an Erin in your life, tell them thank you. If you are a Kaylen or an Erin, don't give up even when someone hopes your knees break, because whether they say it or not, they appreciate you.