Running in the Dark

It's 2:11 AM. I just got back from a run. Most people would probably think it's unusual to run at 2 in the morning. I haven't run in the middle of the night for a long time - since I tore my MCL last spring. My run tonight was less than fun... in fact, it was down right painful. I guess that's what happens when you use a neglected group of muscles. I'm looking forward to getting back in my running shape over the next few months. Hopefully by the end of summer I will have had no major injury setbacks and everything will be back to normal.

Now, I'll stop beating around the bush and get to the real reason I'm writing this blog at 2:00 AM. Do you know what you can can hear and see when you're running and walking about at two in the morning?

As I ran I would go by houses with the sprinklers whooshing. In the storm drains I could hear the water running, gurgling to unknown caverns beneath the streets. My shoes thudded (emphasis on THUDDED) as I ran. I didn't feel light on my feet, and every piece of asphalt may as well have been a boulder. My once-silent breathing became labored until it screamed at me.

No diesel engines spewed alveoli-matting black smoke at me as I ran. No vehicles competed for the middle of the road. No freshly-cut grass triggered allergies. Ther was nobody. Nothing. Anywhere.

I walked around my neighborhood and cooled down after my run. My subdivision may as well have been an abandoned town in the middle of a Nevada desert waiting for a government nuclear weapon to annihilate it. Nobody and nothing seemed to move. Even dogs were sleeping and quiet. Square houses with triangle gables silhouetted a dark night sky. Their figures were accented by squared windows showing ambient light shining from deep within their walls. Stars cascaded across the expanses above me, and I felt small. The Milky Way may as well have been God spilling Winder Dairy across our galaxy. It was beautiful as its soft small stars fell over each other. They were accented by larger, staccato stars spaced further apart that must be making up the rest of the universe.

Do you know how many birds are singing and warbling at 2 AM? When I was walking, I heard birds in every direction singing midnight songs to each other. Were they singing themselves to sleep, were they already beginning to rouse themselves for the morning, or were they merely restless? Whatever the case may have been, their lyrics were beautiful, and their pitch impeccable. Crickets joined the choir, and together they couldn't have been more perfectly paired.

I finished my walk and heard a Harley Davidson fire up somewhere in my subdivision. When the only thing standing out to you are birds, a Harley's twin cam breaks the silence like a summer thunder crack. Its rider laid off the throttle - judging by its direction of travel, it was making a right turn. It briefly accelerated, slowed before turning north onto Pony Express Parkway and then progressed through the next four gears. Soon I couldn't hear it at all and the birds' serenaded me the rest of the way home. Oh, and one more thing... When I walk, my left shoe has ever-so-soft of a squeak.

If you ever have time, and you're not afraid of the dark, run in the dark. It may pleasantly surprise you how much is and isn't going on.

Summer's Trying...

Here I sit. I haven't updated the blog for a while (it's kind of like a journal - a journal I never kept, but that I always said I would). Outside Michaela and Cyden are playing with four or five of the neighbor children. It's not as warm as you would normally think it would be at the end of May - in fact, it snowed this morning. Cyden and I had the Father & Son's Campout east of Heber this weekend. It snowed two or three inches up there... then I woke up this morning, and lo and behold, the white stuff was blanketing the ground. I guess it's a good thing we delayed getting the garden in. Now we don't have a bunch of dead plants.

Life has been beautiful lately. I quit working for American Fork and switched police departments. I now work for lovely Saratoga Springs. It is a town of 17,000, and is growing quickly. It has been a good move. I have to work a bit harder to find the arrests, but luckily (for me) there are "bad guys" everywhere, ensuring my job's stability.

Andy finished coaching high school basketball season a month or two ago, and now she's getting ready for upcoming summer basketball and soccer camps. Yay. She's a great coach, though, and loves doing it. I'm great at feebly attempting to be "Mr. Mom."

Michaela and Cyden are growing. Michaela grows up. Her legs get longer and longer, but the rest of her remains largely unchanged. In my blog post from July of 2009, I expressed my frustration that Michaela wasn't learning to ride her bike with two wheels. Cyden grows out. He's a burgeoning tank of a boy. His therapeutic respite is to annoy Michaela - an art he has mastered (to say the least).

This spring we've had a lot of fun. I've been to Moab twice - once with the Scouts, and with the family. I don't want my children to think camping entails running water and electricity... As such, we "roughed it," and Michaela and Cyden now know what it is like utilize a "Luggable Loo." Andy is a great wife, and for Mother's Day requested camping stuff. She's the proud new owner of a new tent and I just became a partner in my best Mother's Day present I've ever given - cue the devious grin (now if I could just convince her she needs a motorcycle for Mother's Day next year).

Contentment - Ahhh!

It's evening and I'm sitting in my front yard. The kids are pulling leaves off of the chameleon tree. In the spring it's a vibrant green, but in early summer the leaves begin morphing into a dark burgundy. I don't know what kind of tree it is, but it's steadily being deprived of its lower-limb foliage.
I tried teaching Michaela how to ride her bike without training wheels today. Two trips down the block, and her cries of protest dissuaded my attempts. I relented, and put her training wheels back on - albeit much higher than before. If she wrecks now, it's because she wouldn't let me teach her how to ride it properly... although some may snidely suggest that I'm a poor mentor if it comes to actually staying ON the bike.
If I had a bicycle small enough for Cyden, I have no doubt in my mind that he would be up for the task of riding it without training wheels. As it stands, however, he has to terrorize the EMB (Eagle Mountain Barrio) on his Big-Wheel. He relishes crashing it into Michaela with enough force to de-saddle her from the pink princess bike. Their "accidents" usually end up with Michaela crying lying under a heap of pink steel, white rubber, silver bike horn, orange reflectors, and irradescent streamers.
I just read a book called "Beautiful Boy," by David Sheff. If anyone has a loved one struggling with addiction, it is a poignant story about a father and the battle raging between his son and methamphetamine. In the end, the story paints a picture of hope, but still retains its edge by illustrating addiction as a life-long disease that can be managed, but probably never completely cured.
The air is cool, the temperature tolerable now that sun has set. Andy is reading her book next to me - Twilight (again). She just finished telling me that I have to read it once I finish Beautiful Boy. I am cautiously optimistic she'll let me read the book I've already checked out from the library before embarking on the Twilight saga. I only promised to read Twilight before the next movie debuted. That was almost a year ago, and November's release of "New Moon" draws steadily closer. It seems immenent now.
Well, Michaela found a caterpillar wrapped up in a leafy burgandy shroud. It is green, and nature has attempted to make it look like a fearsome creature by placing menacing faux eyes on top of its head. Michaela wasn't frightened or fooled, and now I guess I'll go inside and prepare a jar and introduce him to a new habitat. I think our segmented green friend is going to become a "beautiful" moth someday.

Oh, for the love!

LIFT UP THINE EYES:

I figure I haven't really taken a moment to wax sentimental in the blog recently. As such, I am going to take a moment and muse about beauty, and "lifting up thine eyes." I periodically catch myself caught up in the mundane, entrenched in the rut of everyday life, forgetting to lift up mine eyes, and behold the glory of the world around me. Norman Rockwell has a famous painting entitled, "Lift Up Thine Eyes." In the painting, a group of people walk, eyes fixed down at the sidewalk. Above the oblivious group is the majestic arch of a cathedral with a flock of white doves ascending toward its turrets and spires. The group misses the majesty and the power of the moment, too focused on their destinations and the ground immediately before them.


I have recently begun lifting up my eyes toward heaven more, drawing in the majesty and beauty that abounds. In the mornings on my way to work, it has been wonderful to drop down into the Utah Valley. The back-lit silhouette of rugged Mount Timpanogos against a dawn sky is enough proof for me that an artist created this earth. I can imagine Christ with his paintbrush dabbing in a few golden-gilded clouds into the alizerin crimson morning sky. In His aesthetically perfect picture, I can see the Mount Timpanogos Temple settled atop of an American Fork hill. I wonder if some of the workers going to open the temple are too hurried and worried about getting there on time to notice the light radiating through deep indigo blue panes of stained glass in its steeple.

As I drive around at work in the morning hours, I am carried away into different shades of green that the local fauna provides. Light greens in gardens are punctuated by primary colored flowers. I can smell the light, sweet scent of dew in the morning, and even over the droll of my police motorcycle, I can hear birds as they rouse themselves. I may not understand the tweets and warbles, but to me they are proclaiming in song, "Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day - I've got a beautiful feeling, everything's going my way!"

In the afternoon, highlighting shadows all but disappear, and diffused lighting makes everything start to blend together. The grandeur of the landscape may not be so apparent, but little tidbits of beauty still pop out to warm the heart. I like to watch as I drive by Art Dye Ballpark. Little Leaguers are trying to field grounders, digging their gloves into the dirt, trying to get leather on the ball, so an errant bad bounce doesn't careen the hard leather spheres into their noses.

A block or two up the street from the baseball diamond, three little girls are selling lemonade on the side of the road. The heat has me sweating bullets, and as I pull up beside them, I say, "Do you have a business license to be selling this?" A few worried glances between the business partners are exchanged, and then I break into a smile, tell them I'm only kidding, and buy their bland $0.25 Kool-Aid elixer for $1.00. I reflect back to selling lemonade as a child, and getting excited everytime someone would say, "Keep the change." As I tell the children to "keep the change," and gulp down the flowered Daisy-brand cup of punch, I look at their punch-stained smiles and think to myself, "that was the best dollar I ever spent."

A few days ago, a deer ventured out in front of me as I was riding the motorcycle at work. I was in the middle of town when it happened, and was quite surprised. Felt-like velvet shrouded developing antlers, and the hair on its back was tinted red, not the dusty tan that it turns in the late summer/fall. An oncoming car slowed and also stopped for the deer, and I gave a bleep of my siren, sending the deer retreating into a vacant lot of twisted cottonwoods, hawthorns, and three-foot high field grass. I haven't seen field grass this high in quite some time. It has been a good June for rain.

I just worked my first swing shift on Monday. I won't be working day shift again for six months. At 11:30 PM, I arrested a 22 year old DUI on alcohol and pain pills. I didn't head home until 2:30 AM. As I rode home, I dropped down into Cedar Valley - I don't know why, but the west side of Lake Mountain is always ten degrees colder than Utah Valley. The chill actually felt good on my sunburned arms, though. As I rode toward home, I lifted up mine eyes. Bright silver stars were staccatoed across the tar-black sky, and the Milky Way looked like a blurry highway extending from one horizon line to the other.

We all lead fairly hurried lives. Don't be too busy, however, to lift up thine eyes. Take moments now and then to breathe deep and inhale the beauty that abounds and surrounds us!

BEHOLD - The Power of ADHD!

BREAKING NEWS!

OK... so it has been a while since I last posted,. I mainly attribute that to me doing a ton of mountain biking the last few months. It was my main outlet for stress, and I had been doing a lot of it. At the behest of my doctor, however, I have decided to take a moment and update the blog. I tore my MCL two weeks ago doing an ill-advised jump that had been sabotaged by an anti-freeriding mountain biker. I ended up a bit short and clicked my back tire on the landing lip of the jump. It pitched me forward, and I put my left leg down. Apparently the leg can't bend at a ninety degree angle to one side without something breaking, tearing, or ripping somewhere. In the case of my leg, my MCL had a "high grade tear" and it is now sidelining me from my favorite activity. My doctor suggested another outlet for stress, because with my ADHD I've been going crazy sitting in an office at work the last two weeks. I decided because I enjoy writing, I'd update the blog.



Call Me "Brother Righteous"

The last couple of months have brought a few unexpected changes to Schauerhamer-topia. I was called to serve as the Elder's quorum secretary. When the elder's quorum president was done calling me, I think he was probably questioning his personal righteousness, and thinking he'd made the wrong choice, but at any rate - I'm the new Elder's quorum secretary now. A few weeks later, still freshly flaunting my righteousness, Andy went and took the wind right out of my sails by one-upping me.

Andy Vicously Assaulted by the Bishop!

OK, so I was still busy intimidating members of the ward who don't have such a prestigous calling (actually I think Elder's Quorum Secretary is the calling they give to the "project member"), when Andy and I were called into the Bishop's office. The first thing I thought was that I'd screwed up my calling so bad in the few weeks I'd held it, that I was probably going to be the subject of a church disciplinary council. All Andy could think about was that she was getting a calling to the Primary again (We've spent 4.5 out of our 5 married years serving in the Primary together, Andy doing her best to not let me corrupt the children).
The Bishop told Andy the reason he'd called us in to his office, was to extend her a calling. We each took a deep breath, me chuckling inwardly thinking she was going to be teaching nine year olds again, and the Bishop delivered the devastating blow. "Sister Schauerhamer, you've been called to be second counselor in the Relief Society Presidency."
My first thought was that I couldn't have heard that right. I replayed his words in my head, confirming that yes, my wife had just been called to the Relief Society Presidency. The next thing that went through my mind was that the Bishop didn't get the memos: 1. Andy is only 23 years old and doesn't meet the minimum age requirement to be in the Relief Society Presidency, and 2. Andy isn't a fuddy-duddy. Oh well, I tried explaining these two very significant details to the Bishop, but he wasn't hearing any of it, and Andy accepted the call. I am now playing second-fiddle in "perceived righteousness" to my wife.

On the Children's Front:

Michaela:
Andy, much to my chagrin, has enrolled my little princess in preschool for this coming fall. I don't believe she should go to preschool because it makes me miss her already. I don't think there is any place for a child to be so maliciously torn from her father's loving side. Andy, however, doesn't view it quite like I do, and is eagerly anticipating the hour or so that she'll have free of Michaela's cuteness.
Cyden:
Cyden is like one of those annoying little garden gnomes. On the outside he appears cute and adorable, but on the inside he is mischievous and always planning his next assault on his parent's sanity. Cyden enjoys getting dirty, jumping on the trampoline with all the "big" neighborhood kids, getting other people dirty, and generally terrorizing his older sister.

Matt's Thoughts on Swine Flu Hysteria:

Recently the media has been reporting on the phenomenon known as "Swine Flu." Does this really worry people? So a couple of people have died from this "devastating" ailment. Seriously, I am more scared of getting testicular cancer and having to have one of the boys cut off than I am of contracting the Swine Flu. When it comes right down to it, I've had the flu numerous times, I don't get flu shots, and I'm still alive. Let me know if the Russians suddenly lose their vial of Smallpox, because until then I'm not going to worry about a so-called pandemic.
Oh, and one more thing - Where Swine Flue seems to lurk, it's almost funny the arguments anti-immigration propogandists are coming up with. Unlike many of the Minutmen, I don't walk through Wal-Mart with the fear of contracting Swine Flu or Tuberculosis from my Mexican cashier or shelf-stocker.

Well, at any rate, these are just a few of my recent musings... I'll be posting again sooner this time if my knee doesn't allow me to start riding.

...Bath-time Ramblings...

Bath time, much like nap time, is one of those rare moments a parent can use to breathe. I have the laptop out right now and I'm watching my two deviant children splash all the water out of the tub right now. It has been a fun-filled day of laughter with the children. Right now Michaela's getting angry at Cyden because he only understands the concept of knocking down castles... Michaela's more into the art of building them.

I've been watching the kids today while Andy has been at her mom's house cleaning. Some fathers may take umbrage to watching their children all day, but I revel in it. My children are so genuine in everything they do. If they're having fun, there is no half-way. If they're offended or feelings hurt, it is a legitimate source of angst. Whether they're laughing or crying, they light up my life.

Today we flew a kite. It was windy and the neighbors had their kite up. I had to improvise, however, because I didn't have any kite string - only a five foot tall kite Benjamin bought for Michaela last summer. I thought about what I could use to fly the kite. I went with dental floss, and amazingly enough, it worked sailing'ly. We've jumped on the trampoline, and swung on the swings, we've ate apples and cheese, and Michaela has been through three or four princess outfits. It has been a great day.

Michaela has had pink eye the last two days, and Andy has been taking the brunt of the abuse. Saturday night, while I was working, Michaela woke up crying. Her eye was nearly swollen shut, and she had a fever. She ended up sleeping in the same bed as Andy - and Andy does NOT like having a child sleeping with her. My mom came down Sunday and checked Michaela out - just as Andy suspected, pink eye. Luckily when your mother's a nurse practitioner, an antibiotic is just a house-call away, and she called Walgreens for us to pick up the prescription. We picked it up and Michaela's fevers have ceased for the time being.

I've been running a lot lately. I'm determined to do a marathon this year, and I have a good training partner who's a cardio junkie. Luckily he's keeping me motivated - mostly because I don't like hindering him while we're running, so even if we can't get together I go for my own jaunt through the desertscape. Warm weather has also had me riding my mountain bike a lot. I've been logging a lot of miles on Lake Mountain riding - and sometimes dodging errant hillbilly bullets. Whether riding or dodging, I've been having a good time and may be entering a mountain bike race in May... although, I'm not too keen on entering a bike race unless I feel I may be in the realm of being able to compete. I'm pretty sure that realm will still be eluding me come May.

Now that there's no ice on the roads, I have been able to get on the motorcycle at work. It's nice being able to ride the motorcycle. They actually pay me to do it, which is funny considering most people pay out the wazoo to ride a motorcycle.

Well, I guess I'll suspend my ramblings for now - since beginning this, I have taken both kids out of the tub and I get to start being dad again!

By the way - both pictures of the kids were taken at Grandma Susan's house last week... It's pretty obvious they enjoy going to Grandma's house. Cyden loves the rocking horse my mom has had since she was two years old, and Michaela loves baking bread with Grandma!

Running...Like a chicken with its head chopped off!

I've been going to school again at Utah Valley University. Between being a full-time husband, dad, police officer, and student, I feel OVERWHELMED and TIRED... especially after working all Wednesday night and then going straight to school Thursday morning, only to have 3 hours sleep before my next graveyard shift starts at work.
I am enjoying almost all of my classes - especially my English class. History has always been a favorite of mine, too, until this year. My History teacher is a frenzied sixty-year-old hippie from California and her abstract thought patterns and random tangents stemming from years of LSD abuse are making me nearly as crazy as she is.

UVU's Criminal Justice Department picked me to represent the school at a state criminal justice skills competition March 20 and 21st. I'm looking forward to representing the school, and if I manage to somehow win the thing, they'll pay my way to attend the national competition in Kansas City.

To break up the stress I feel from home, work, and school, I've been running and biking a lot more. Ever since I broke my leg, however, I've been prone to running related injuries. In the past three years I've had plantar fasciitis, shin splints, stress fracture, and now I have piriformis pain that I'm just trying to run through - but it's a real literal pain in the butt. Sitting in my police car 10 hours every night doesn't do anything to help it, either. I really want to do a marathon this year, so I've been trying to cycle a lot more to supplement my running. It doesn't beat up my body near as much (depending on what trail and/or jumps I go on), and I like the faster, more exhilarating downhills... Now, if the weather would only cooperate with me so I'm not riding in mud and snow.

My kids are growing like weeds. I was looking at pictures of Michaela and remarking to myself, "Where did my little girl go?" I keep telling her to "Stop growing," and I ask her, "Why do you keep growing so much?" She remarks that she needs to grow so she can have babies... Sheesh.
Cyden just had his tonsils and adenoids removed last week. Today he's doing pretty good - he's not nearly as irritable or ornery as he has been the past 4 or 5 days, so hopefully his pain is subsiding.

Above: A photomanipulation I did of Brett Favre to tick off a Brett Favre fanatic. That's Benjamin Button's body and Favre's face.