I AM A SOULDIER

photo by: LanellLeone Photography 

Remember in 2015 when Rachel Platten released her Fight Song?

Everyone was gaining strength and courage for their personal battles. Children with cancer, adults losing loved ones. It was idolized by many.

Just as the Fight Song, brings strength to many, I find myself turning to a different song for strength.

Back in July 2016, celebrating Independence Day, Ric and I were running a spontaneous weekend 5K. I hadn't done anything athletic of the such, in over a year. My body was (and still is) recovering from pregnancy. (Will it ever recover? The unknown question we all wonder. Whether I do or don't, I've got a dang cute kid to show for it, and that is worth any sacrifice, in my book.) The starting gun went off and I began pacing myself slowly. The adrenaline of the race carried me for a short half mile. Then, I started struggling. Fatigue in my limbs, tightening of the airways, and the mental game. My goals going into this race were simply; 'to not walk', and 'finish'. However, at this point I was truly certain I wasn't going to run much more, and simply 'hoping' to cross that finish line. I turned to Ric and said, "You need to carry me through this race, because I am done. I need you to distract my mind and start telling me a story. Please, assess my body from your eyes and adjust our pace accordingly. I'll focus on my breathing...you distract my mind and you pace my body.' He began recalling the history of our Country, fighting for their independence. Telling stories of military troops and the wars and battles they had had to endure. How quickly my mind shifted. Here I was 26 years old, in a first world country, a beautiful day, perfect weather, my husband by my side and I thought I was having a hard time. I thought I wasn't going to endure. I reflected back on my own two cousins who served in the Marines. The 20+ mile runs with weighted packs on their backs, through the sand. I thought back on all the Troops who went days on end without sleep in battle, days of physical exertion. I became so humbled and grateful I had tears filling my eyes. I could endure and I was going to finish. I didn't finish pretty, but I didn't stop or walk. We finished just over the pace time, I was secretly hoping to finish in -- because, what athlete ever really loses that competitiveness with themselves? ;)

Now, I have never been a soldier fighting for my freedoms or in a war with bullets, camo and the flag on my shoulder. But everyday I fight for my life, for freedom from this illness.

Years ago when I heard The Killer's song, All These Things That I've Done, the line - I got soul but I'm not a soldier; resonated inside me like nothing had before. It was almost as if Brandon Flowers, knew what I was going through, and was speaking to me. This was exactly how I felt about my daily battle with cystic fibrosis. One that will never stop attacking and one that I will never stop fighting back. I knew I wasn't a soldier in camouflage, but I was my own soul-dier. I'd never be on the battlefield with a gun, but I'd be on the daily, the minute, the every second battlefield of my own body. And that takes courage.  

I may not be a soldier, but I AM A SOULDIER.

The past year as this Sherman Army has grown larger and stronger than I ever imagined, I feel your strength as my fellow souldiers. I couldn't do this without you. 
And so, we release to you, and anyone else fighting as a souldier, our new Souldier Tee.

Click HERE to purchase the Souldier Tee.

Xx, M

PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN

The 4th of July was the first holiday H celebrated last year. I was so thrilled, because it is my favorite holiday. There is so much pride in my heart for this country, for those that were brave enough to pioneer the efforts into establishing it, for who we are. Ric know's that when we have a home, I have a solid request for a flag pole to proudly wave the American flag each day on our property. I am honored to be living in a country founded on God, family, freedom and independence. I respect the privilege of being here, one of the greatest gifts I've been given.

image: pixabay 

   

Our little fam enjoyed the day off of work & school, ran the Sandy City 5K, watched a sand volleyball tournament in Park City & spent the evening doing a firework show with family. 

Notice how I casually put "ran a 5K" in the mix of things and moved on...well, I want to give you some background. My husband and I showed up the race with full intentions of pushing H through the 3 mile course and just enjoying time outside. Running wasn't an option because where my lung function levels are right now. My last PFT (pulmonary function test) showed they were hovering just above 50%. I have a difficult time doing things around the house & going up stairs isn't very fun. When we showed up to the starting line, a cousin offered to watch H so we didn't have to push him. I thought about it for several moments & let him stay. I told Ric I wanted to try and run, I'll do the 2 minute run/walk method to pace myself and just finish. I encouraged him to run at his own pace, or with some of my other athletic, speedy cousins. He insisted on staying with me for obvious reasons that don't need mentioning. I didn't argue too much because I knew this was going to be hard for me, and difficult things are easier with some good eye candy next to you. ;) I made it to the two minute transition to where I would start walking, but felt pretty good and wanted to keep running still. My legs weren't moving fast, people were passing by. At the half way mark, I was really struggling. My lungs were burning, they were coughing. Ric started telling me his childhood stories to distract me, but laughing wasn't helping this situation any! He threw out as many inspiring quotes as he could think of, and ended with, "remember the soldiers that have fought and currently fight for this country. Keep moving your legs & pushing yourself like they have done for us." Boom, he struck the chord that resonated inside me today, with everything I believe. Several, several minutes passed by and then several more, we saw the "finish" line sign. I knew Hawke was going to be at the end and oh boy did I swell with love and tears. He was going to watch us RUN across that finish line.

When we finished I had to take a few minutes to myself, acknowledging my body for what it had just done. I used to be very healthy and in strong lung function. Three miles was almost a daily thing for me. But I've been really struggling since I got pregnant with H and my lungs haven't recovered. This was something I'd wondered if I'd be able to do again. Today it happened. Because of the support of my husband, my son, my Father in Heaven. He knew I needed something like this to give me encouragement and calm my wandering mind. Things are okay, things are going to be okay. 

I couldn't resist posting H's little bum sticking in the air!

Xx, Mand