[9] Dream Come True

When I was little, I always dreamed of being a photographer. I loved looking at pictures of nature and watching my mom take pictures. Whenever it was a sibling's birthday, we would make breakfast and take it in to them in their rooms and sing. We had a usual line of kids: one carrying the meal tray, another carrying the drink so it didn't spill, one carrying the presents, and the other holding the camera taking pictures. We didn't have assigned jobs, but I always wanted to be the one in charge of carrying the camera. Unfortunately, I was never good at taking pictures so my mom would take the camera to get quality shots.

For some reason, I still wanted to take pictures everywhere we went: family vacations, summer trips, and even outings to my favorite cousin's house in Springville. Every Christmas and birthday list had "camera" on it. If it didn't come that year, it would be number one on next year's list. 

Finally, when I was 17, my parents gave in and got me a camera. It isn't the nicest camera, but it was perfect for what I wanted it for. I wasn't going to major in photography, or even minor in anything artistic, but I was able to go out and take pictures that made me happy. 

I pulled out my camera about a month ago when the trees were turning colors. Fall is, and has always been, my favorite season. I loved taking pictures of my ugly old dorm buildings surrounded by beautiful colors from campus. I still am not a good photographer, but I have loved getting to use my camera to capture memories and scenery that will always be a happy, beautiful memory!

[8] Trust Your Training

            I ran across the finish line and felt amazing. I finished my first half marathon! All I could think about was going home and setting some frozen peas and carrots on my knees to feel better while watching a chick flick. I felt like I deserved the relaxation. When I got home, my parents made me their famous chocolate peanut butter protein shake! I relaxed on the couch with ice on both knees while I listened to their conversation about training for their marathon.

            My parents are insanely committed runners. My mom has run over 20 marathons and completed 2 IRONMAN’s.  My dad has run 10 marathons and did 1 IRONMAN with my mom. I knew they would be talking about something insane, but I never would have guessed that my dad would include me in their craziness.

            He looked at me and asked, “Aimee, do you realize that the St. George Marathon is only 3 months away? And do you realize that you are halfway trained for the marathon? So if you keep going with training and increasing your mileage, you could run the marathon.” I laughed that he would even consider bringing up a thought so impossible.

When I realized he wasn’t joking, I explained to him, “I can’t run a marathon! I just barely ran a half!” My mind went back to the race earlier that morning. I imagined the finish line being the half-way mark and then having to turn around and do it all again backwards to mark the distance for a full marathon. The thought was unbearable.

As I laid in bed that night, I thought more about it. My mind was torn. Running the martahon would be so hard, in fact, close to impossible! On the other hand, it would be so cool to accomplish something so amazing for myself. After an hour of mental debates and listing pros and cons, I decided I was going to run a marathon.

The very next day after my first half marathon, there was a 3 month training plan on my bed. Once I told my dad my commitment for this marathon, he would not let me change my mind. I think he knew I would be able to do it, even if I thought I couldn’t.

The buzzing ring of the alarm went off, again. 5:45. Running before school was probably the hardest part of my day. I had to do it though. My dad told me that if I followed everything on the training plan, I would be able to finish. I trusted him because I knew that he knew what he was doing. Every Saturday was a long run, and each week the mileage would increase and I would be running longer than I had ever before! After many minor injuries and complications, it was finally the night before the race. We drove down to St. George just in time to check into the hotel and settle down for bed.

            I can almost always tell when my dad is nervous. He has a look where his eyes widen and one of his eyebrows tilts. I’ve learned throughout the years that this was his look of concern. He turned to me while trying to hide his obvious anxiety and asked, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

            “I did everything you told me to, so you probably know better than me, dad.” I replied. I expected his look to go away or at least fade, but it didn’t. I shrugged it off, but later realized he was nervous because he knew exactly what I was about to get into, and I had no idea.

            That night went by too fast. Before I knew it, I was awake doing my usual pre-run routine that I had perfected throughout training runs for the marathon. We loaded the busses and were on our way to the starting line. The bus driver told us not to look out the window or pay much attention to how many hills we were going down because we were driving the course backwards. As we unloaded the bus, the driver got on the intercom and said, “Alright you guys, you are ready for this. It’s show time!”

            The words ‘show time’ hit me. It was time for me to show what I could do. We met up with some of the running group and stood together at the starting line. I stood there not knowing what the next few hours would be like. I didn’t know what would hurt, how I would control my nutrition, or how I would compensate for future injuries. All I knew is that I was going to finish no matter what. 

MILE 1

            Then, the gun went off. Everyone started running, and my adrenaline was intensely pumping. The adrenaline only lasted so long, though. After a mile, I started to remember what it felt like to work to run. It didn’t take long for aches to come in, which was very frustrating knowing that I still had a long way to go. 
MILE 7

            After making it up the first intense hill at mile 7, I was able to feel my usual running form. I felt like I was set on cruise control. The running still wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t impossible. 
MILE 10

            Surprisingly, miles 10-17 went by pretty fast. The course had drink stops every 2 miles. Even though they were called drink stops, my dad wouldn’t allow me to actually stop through them. After so many water stations, it became a race between me and my parents to see who could make it through the fastest. I learned that the rest stops were no rests. I had to drink a filled cup of the electrolyte sports drink every station. I began to highly dislike the sugary coating and fruity flavor of Gatorade. My dad made me drink them anyways. My dad was there for me the entire way. It wasn’t my dad’s corny jokes that made me laugh, but usually it was my mom’s pity laughs at his every joke. I could tell she was trying to make him feel good and avoid tension while limiting the encouragement of such terrible humor. Watching them laugh and run together made me realize that I wanted to have a relationship like that someday. I realized that I want to marry someone I can run with, laugh with, and happily live a wonderful life with. I thought that happy enlightenment was the extent of personal lessons for the day, but I was about to prove myself very wrong. 
MILE 18

            Mile eighteen came with a gradual 2-mile-long hill. I looked up at the hill that seemed to never end. There was no way around this mountain: I had to run up it. My dad must have noticed my concern when he looked at me and gave me the most influential advice that has changed my life and I will never forget.

He said, “You’ve got this hill. Trust your training.” I pictured all of the other hills I had run up during training that looked like this. I had done something like this before. I knew my body was capable of running up this even if my mind was screaming otherwise. I put my headphones in to distract my brain and started making my way up the monstrous incline. I got three quarters up when I felt my knee pop. Instant pain shot down my leg. I could barely stand and there was no way I could put any pressure on it. It took all my strength not to collapse completely. Luckily, my parents were right beside me and grabbed my arms to support my weight. They kept me walking forward, never stopping. My dad gave me a GU packet he had been saving, and my mom started asking me questions about my pain. Luckily they knew what they were doing because I had no idea how to help myself. I wanted nothing more than to stop running and climb into my comfy bed at home and relax. Unfortunately, that was not an option here. I needed to finish this.

My mom figured it was nothing too serious and I needed to keep running on it to tweak it back into place. Although every step shot excruciating pain down my leg, I was able to compensate for the unbearable pain in one leg to balance other pain in my opposite leg after a couple of minutes. Once I reached to the top of the hill, I started to feel a lot better. My knee didn’t hurt too badly anymore, or I stopped thinking about the pain. I made it to the top of the hill. A few minutes ago, I thought I would never be able to do it.

After that hill, I knew there was nothing stopping me. I was on my way to the end. Although there was still 6 miles to go, the distance seemed like nothing. Despite the constant pain in my knees, pressure on my feet, and side-aches, I was happy. I couldn’t stop smiling. The other runners would ask me why I was still smiling after 20 miles! The only response I could give them was a bigger smile. That was the hardest, yet best day of my life. 
MILE 23

At mile 23, my parents noticed too much energy in me so they told me I needed to go faster. My dad said, “You are going to regret this run if you have so much left at the end. You have to give this race all you have and we can’t run any faster. We are holding you back.”

My mom always knows how to apply running to valuable life lessons, so she added, “Sometimes in life, your parents can’t support you anymore. There will come a time in life, just like this race, when we have taught you all we can and you need to go out and live it and learn it for yourself. It’s time, Aimee. Leave us and prove everything you are capable of.”

That was all I needed to hear. I was gone. I picked up my pace and started passing so many people. In my head the finish line was just around the corner, but in reality, there was still 3.2 miles to go. Half of me wanted to get the race over with and be done with it. My legs felt like jelly, and my heart was pounding. Catching my breath was like trying to breathe out of a coffee straw. I wanted to be done with the pain. The other half of me never wanted this race to end. I didn’t want to lose the sensation of accomplishment I felt when the crowd would see me running a marathon at such a young age. All of the effort and hard work I put into this was bringing a sweet victory. I didn’t want to stop doing something people said was impossible. I was doing it, and I was about to finish.

MILE 26

I passed the mile marker that read “26 miles”. I started accelerating. This was it. I had two-tenths of a mile to go. Less than a lap around a track. The giant orange and white balloon arch read the most beautiful words, “FINISH LINE”. I was never going to forget these next moments. I sped up a little more. I looked around at the crowd and took as deep of a breath as I could manage. I got to the point where I was running as fast as my legs could take me, and then I ran faster. The announcer called out as I was approaching the end, “Aimee Gardanier, 15 years old, from Highland Utah coming towards the finish line!” I spread my arms out just like I always did every time I finished a big race pretending I could fly. I felt like I was flying. I looked down at my feet as they finally stepped over the checkered finish line; a moment I will never forget. 

[7] My BYU Experience

Before coming to BYU, all I knew was what my brother and parents told me. My mom attended BYU and met my dad who graduated here. They loved it and told me adorable stories of their time together at this great campus. My dad has always stressed the importance of hard work. Honestly, I wouldn't be here without his encouragement and expectations. When preparing to come here, he talked about the school work. He helped me set up my schedule and plan time to be in the library every day. Everything he taught me and prepared me for here was great, but it was all about the school.
My older brother came here for a semester before his mission. He is the oldest, so he was the first sibling in our family to go to college. He paved the path for me in everything I do. I always asked him what he was up to and what his plans were to get the idea of a college life. Michael is really smart and took some difficult classes. His average day at BYU consisted of waking up early to go to class, coming home and eating, then doing homework all day/evening. He would go to bed hoping he did everything he needed to, woke up, and did it all again. He said, "Sometimes I feel like there are not enough hours in the day to get done what I need to." That made me really nervous to come to BYU. Not specifically BYU, but any college. It looked hard, so I expected no social life and stress every day about hours upon hours of homework.
Coming to BYU, I realized that the college experience can be different for everyone. I do have lots of homework, but I stay on campus and get it done. That way, when I go home, I can enjoy my evening with friends and activities that I want without worrying about homework. I have loved getting to know new friends all the time, going to sports games, playing intramural soccer, and having jam sessions with my friends almost every night. College can be hard and time consuming, but I have learned that it can be as fun as you make it! I love BYU!