Utah-versary

This weekend marks a special weekend in my life. 

This time last year I was sitting in my brand new Utah ward, after crying throughout the long drive and semi moved, while my dad was at my house making my new Ikea closet. 

And tomorrow marks my one year mark at my job. 

How has the time flown by so fast?

A  lot of the time I still feel like I just got here. 

I feel like my life in California was just a moment ago. 

And I especially feel that nothing in California has changed without me, life just stopped once I left. 

Wishful thinking, huh? 

It still blows my mind how this Utah adventure got started. 

And although I cried on the floor in the hallway the week before I left

I surprise myself most days with how much I love the Salt Lake livin'

It is so different than California, I don't nearly have the group of friends that I was so blessed with in Northridge. But I think that group of friends was something so special and so lucky to have that it might not be duplicated for a long time, or ever. 

This year in SLC I have loved getting to know a new area and feeling like I actually know people here. 

I love the SLC perks, like attending the General Relief Society Meeting in person last night, seeing Elder Holland at the grocery store, attending a Fireside with Elder Ballard in person. I love that the Salt Lake Temple is just miles away and that it is my temple. I love working in West Valley and feeling like I am not in Utah for those 8 hours. I love living close to the Capitol and Downtown. 

I love all of the great girlfriends I have made here.

I love my job. I love all of the responsibility and every single day I am getting better and better and learning so much more.  

Some things are definitely still hard (Dodgers, warm weather...) but its helpful to remember to always stay positive in those situations. 

So here is to my one year mark of being a "Utahan"

And who knows how many more of these years to come...

running, running, running...26.2

After walking out of the Temple I realized I was 1 down, 1 to go. 

One more big, scary, hyperventilating-worthy activity to go.

Running 26.2 miles the next morning.  

Most of the week I was doing ok. I was a little freaked out but there was so much going on in the weekend that I was able to think about other things and look forward to being with my family. 

It wasn't until Friday night that the nerves really kicked in. 

What should I eat that night?

Have I really trained good enough?

Is my hip flexor going to start hurting right away?

What do I do if it does?

What should I eat in the morning?

Do I have a shirt I can wear to keep me warm?

What if I hit "the wall"?

Am I going to be able to do this?

Months of training and dedication to completing this marathon and I was a wreck. 

I left my family dinner at Sundance a bit early to head back home. 

And with the hugs, good lucks and "break a leg" I could feel the nerves coming even more. 

My dad walked me out to my car and I just lost it. I broke down in tears over how nervous I was. 

I know it was just running but it was a lot of running, 4 hours of running, 26 miles of running and its just scary. 

My dad said a sweet prayer with me and thankfully my tears and nerves were minimized. 

3:45 am came and I was up and getting ready. I had planned with Monica to meet her at the buses at 4:30 but I was so anxious and speedy in the morning I was ready 15 mins early. So I sat on my bed at 4 in the morning counting down the minutes till I could leave. 

Luckily I found Monica and we were able to ride the bus up and hang out for over an hour at the top of the Canyon. The freezing canyon.

We talked to strangers, got some running tips and by 7 am stripped down to my running clothes and tried my best to stay calm as I embarked on my long awaited 26 mile journey. 

I felt great. The weather was perfect and it was just time to be patient and run.

I absolutely loved the course, it was so beautiful. That alone was inspiring enough to keep going.

My hold up did start right away. My calves were incredibly tight.

 I hadn't really had that happen to me before and wasn't expecting it. But they ached. The entire time. But it was time to go big and persevere.

I came out of the canyon at mile 17. So happy knowing that I just  PR'd on my half (I am still counting it! I was at like 1:50!) And continued to feel great until mile 20. I was on a high. I just completed 20 miles! And only had a mere 10k to finish it up. 

But my legs were starting to be in a lot of pain. I never hit "the wall". I knew I could keep going, but I never imagined it would hurt to actually move my legs. There may have been a few times when I screamed out in pain it hurt so bad. 

I had three miles to go until my sisters joined me and I could not be happier and it kept me going. 

I rounded the corner and could see my family in the distance and wanted to shout for joy. (But couldn't--that would exert too much needed energy)

It was so great to see them! I needed their support and seriously got teary eyed but Laura told me not too, I wouldn't be able to run if I was hyperventilating.

They kept me going, told me stories and Laura thinks she can now me be a 3-6 mile motivational pacer. 

I felt great running with them and passing everyone else walking, and although it hurt to run, I was still going. 

I think some of the best moments of the race was running alongside my sisters. 

Then it was down to the .2 there was an incredible mix of emotions knowing that the finish line was right there. 

My sisters pulled off the course and I saw them still running alongside of me outside the barricade.

But then it was just me and the finish line and I gave it my all pushing my legs even harder to come across that finish line and accomplish the incredibly hard task of running a marathon.

I probably could have run faster to the finish, but I was quickly gaining on guy ahead of me and I didnt want to make him feel bad that I passed him up.... But I still pushed hard to finish alongside of him. 

I started getting emotional before I even crossed the line. Partly for pain and partly excitement and awe.

{I have a love/ hate relationship with this photo. It sums up perfectly what I just described.}

They handed me my medal and my first immediate thought was..."I am going to puke"

Luckily, they also handed me a water bottle so that helped with the whole not puking thing. 

And then I walked over to my parents and sisters, gave them hugs and then put my head down and just cried and cried. 

I had done it. And I couldn't believe it. 

{I am getting teary eyed just thinking back on the experience!}

And I also couldn't walk.

After giving my family hugs, I turned to Laura in a moment I had been waiting a long time for...

"I ran a marathon before you."

It just added to the great experience!

Aubry and Allie also joined in at the finish line. Such a great surprise!

Running this marathon has now seemed unreal. I cant believe it actually happened.

I hit all of my goals too. I only walked through the water stations, actually ran through the finish, not crawled or limped and finished near the 4 hour mark...4:09 to be exact!

But I loved it and have never been more proud of such an accomplishment.

Family. Temples. Forever.

 I have previously blogged about how much I love my Robins family and our family reunions. 

Well now is a great time to brag about my amazing Svendsen family. 

I have so much love for my Svendsen and the rich history, sacrifice and culture that accompanies it. 

My grandparents, Svend & Jytta Svendsen joined the Church in Denmark shortly after World War II. 

My Uncle was already born and they decided to move to America, the land of opportunity, and they picked little Provo, Utah to be close to the church and the temple. 

On September 11, 1952 my cute Grandparents and Uncle drove to Manti, Utah to receive their endowments and be sealed as an eternal family. 

Shortly one year later my Mom was born and grew up in a very Danish household. 

Speaking mainly Danish, eating Danish food and yet trying to fit in as an American. 

I love being Danish. I love having such a strong connect to Denmark. 

My Grandma Jytta was really the only Grandparent I ever knew and I miss her so much. 

To commemorate this special day and our ability to be an eternal family my cousin Katy organized a family reunion centered on a trip to Manti. 

My Svendsen family is so special because we are so small in numbers. 

(In comparison to the awesomeness of our big numbers on the other side)

There are just 9 cousins.

And we traveled from Nashville, Dallas, Brooklyn, Boston, Los Angeles and even Provo, Salt Lake and Ogden to be together and go to the Manti Temple.

And the rest of my family too.

I always have to catch my Uncle Rick smiling because it is such a rare occurrence!!

 We took photos on the steps in honor of my Grandparents and Uncle Peter outside on the Temple on their big day. 

Our reunion plan mostly revolved around going through a session at the Temple. 

And guess what?

I went through the Temple too. 

It couldn't have been more perfect timing and just that..perfect. 

I wish I could go back and relive it all over again. I don't ever want to forget those moments. 

My whole family there, knowing my sweet grandparents were there 61 years prior and turning around and seeing my sisters dorky and yet cute smiles and thumbs up during the whole thing. And then lots of hugs afterwards. 

We then spent the rest of our time continuing to catch up over great meals, enjoy each others company and walk around City Creek.

Wilson Ave vs. Wisteria Lane

Welcome to the suburbs y'all!
When I moved to the Aves last year I felt like I was living in the city.
Close to downtown, no free parking and not talking to any neighbors.
I literally never talked to anyone.
Everyone minded their own business, they didn't care we had parties and we could park any where we wanted on 3rd Ave.
And then I moved to Wilson Ave. in Sugarhouse.
Where the neighbors are up in our business, stand outside of our house during the parties and yell at us for parking on the street, which is public parking. 
The only explanation I can think of is that I must be in some family suburb livin' now.
We have become friends with one neighbor on the block who has filled us in with everything we have gotten into by living on Wilson Ave.
Our next door neighbor is old. And does not drive and does not leave the house.
But we cant park in front of her house.
The German family across the street.
We cant park there because their son "plays soccer" and we wouldn't want the soccer ball to dent our car...
We have Shirley.
The grouchy lady across the street who stays home all day and eaves drops in everyones business.
And we must decorate our house for Halloween. Or else.
With all of this going on and I couldn't help but compare our street to my beloved Wisteria Lane of Desperate Housewives.
Where everyone was in everyone's business and Karen McCluskey was the grouchy neighbor.
Its taken some getting use to.
We even received a "nice" welcoming letter from Shirley.

After she had yelled at Aubry for 30 mins about parking on the street.
This constant reminder of Wisteria Lane prompted Aubry and I to start a DH marathon.

We are quickly finishing up season one. 

#butnomedal

For my marathon training I have been doing as much downhill running as possible. 

That means each Saturday I wake up at 5 am, drive myself all the way up Emigration Canyon, run all the way down and back to my house. 

And make one of my roommates drive me back up to my car. 

Sounds a little awful, but also rather enjoyable. 

Emigration Canyon is so beautiful. 

And peaceful at 5:45 am.

I have loved running down through the Canyon and enjoying how scenic it is. 

So when one of these runs I came out of the Canyon and saw I sign for the Emigration Half, I thought, Why not!?

I knew the course pretty well but definitely started having extreme anxiety when I drove myself to the starting line.

The first 4 miles were uphill. And driving down what I was soon about to run up was pretty terrifying.
By 7:10 we were off and despite the difficulty, the up hill battle was beautiful.

And the downhill was awesome.
I really loved it and was pretty proud of myself due to the uphill without ever training on hills and I didnt want to push myself too hard with the marathon just around the corner.
I ran into the finish line and was immediately upset that I was not welcomed with a medal being put around my neck.
I will never. ever. run another race that does not give me a medal.

Aub Dawg was nice enough to come meet me at the finish line.
Mostly cause she had to drive me back up to get my car.
But its always nice to be met with a smiling face at the finish.