Thanks, Grandma Sally!

I've been thinking about my Grandma Sally the past few weeks. For those who don't know her, she was a textbook study in determination. Her mother died while giving birth to her, and her father died when she was only an infant. She was raised by her aunt and grandmother, who from what I have read, were also very determined women. She went to nursing school and graduated in record time. She married my Grandpa Petersen, and didn't have the first of her six children until she was 36 years old. At just over five feet tall, she was a tiny, red-headed, determined lady with a mind of steel.

We now live in my Grandma's house. Growing up just down the road, I spent much of my childhood in this house with my Grandma Sally. She was always reading, trying to learn everything there was to know about almost anything. Every time I traveled anywhere, or had any kind of a new experience, I knew that Grandma would expect to hear about every detail. As a teenager, I would try to get by with a quick explanation of my excursions. This simply would not do. She would keep asking questions until she had explored every nook and cranny of my adventure. She loved to learn and she expected us to do the same. She constantly corrected my grammar. I knew to never say "Mom and me." It was "Mom and I". The worst possible mistake was to discuss my "belly" or "belly button" in front of grandma. It was NOT a 'belly' and I did NOT have a 'belly button'. I had an abdomen with an umbilicus!

In her later years, all of her determination was sometimes a bit exasperating. Having been injured in a car accident years earlier, she had some leg injuries which she had never had repaired. This made walking and getting around a bit difficult. However, a cane or a wheelchair were unthinkable. Either of those things, mind you, would have made her appear as a tottering, old lady. And even at age 90+, this was not an option! She could get by on her own, thank you! (I remember several occasions when I followed close by while she stubbornly worked to get up the stairs or into a car. Often, the thought "pride goeth before the fall. . ." ran through my mind!)

As long as I can remember, I have been told that I look a lot like my Grandma Sally. I have her fair skin, freckles, short stature, and okay. . .maybe a little bit of the stubborness. When I'm having one of these moments, Courtney often says, "hello, Sally". I like to tell him that I'm not stubborn, I am just strong willed. While this is not always the easiest trait for others to live with, I've decided I'm thankful she passed it along.

Just last weekend my sister Jodi and I finished the "Women of Steel Triathlon". When I signed up back in January, the thought that I would be six and half months pregnant had not really occured to me. My doctor told me that as long as I wasn't pushing for speed (I'm never very speedy), and didn't fall off my bike, the baby and I would be fine. However, somehow I miscalculated how big I would be by this point. I must have been thinking optimistically, because unfortunately, inheriting Grandma's height means I also inherited her extremely short torso. This means I start showing about the second I concieve. Anyway, a month or so ago I realized as I was trying to fit my gigantic belly (sorry, Grandma) into my tight, spandex bike shorts, that this triathlon might not be the easiest thing I ever attempted to do. The thought reoccured to me a time or two as I was buying the biggest speedo suit available (maternity swimsuits tend to create quite a bit of drag!), and again as my knees were about hitting my stomach as I attempted to bend in an almost 90 degree angle to do my bike training. I learned it's hard to get into any kind of 'aero' position when you resemble a whale. But not doing the triathlon after I had already signed up and committed to finish it? Not an option.

So, last Saturday, I squeezed into a swimming suit and lined up at the pool with Jodi and almost 500 other "Women of Steel". After finishing the swim, I moved into the transition area to mount my bike and begin the 12 mile ride. I had been warned by a few other ladies earlier in the morning about the steep hill in the bike course. It was not pretty. At .8 of a mile, it was long, steep, and we had to climb it twice. I quickly found that getting any kind of momentum to go up a hill with a twenty pound weight around my middle is not very easy. In fact, it seemed nearly impossible. It was about half way up this hill that a little voice appeared inside my head, sounding something like this. . . "Why are you doing this? This is not fun. You have the perfect excuse to not be doing this." Just as I considered getting off my bike and hiking it up the hill, I thought of Grandma Sally. I smiled to myself, and thought, "You know why you're doing this! You're doing it because you can!" Then I said a little thank-you to my grandma and kept trucking up that hill.

Since that day, and again today on Memorial Day, I've been thinking quite a bit about my Grandma. Her stubborness was a bit frustrating sometimes, and I didn't always quite understand why she seemed to be so determined to do things that were difficult for her, especially when she didn't have to even do them! But I think I understand her a little better now. I think she did those things because she could. And as long as she could, she was going to do as much as she could. She wanted to live life as much as she could for as long as she could. And she did it with a mind of steel!

I went on to finish the triathlon, although very slowly! And while I realize that I didn't win a medal, Jodi and I had a lot of fun. I'm so glad I did it. I may have looked a bit funny, and I'll definitely never be a pro triathlete. But, I've come to a conclusion. I may have thighs of rubber and buns of jelly, but I can thank my Grandma for my mind of steel!