Child Sex Slavery

As the senior editor at http://www.bluechowder.com/, I spend many hours each month looking for social causes that are making a REAL difference in the world. As we grow our site, we look for organizations, artists, athletes, or celebrities who aren't wasting their talents on themselves. Often, content is scarce and I am given the opportunity to make my own. This week we are teaming up with a great cause and artist to raise support for children who are daily being sold in to sex slavery.

After spending some time on http://www.love146.org/, I got emotionally attached to this assignment in a way that I haven't yet experienced at my job. I remember in college, the second semester of my senior year taking a class that looked in to the less known types of ministries in our communities. Different nonprofits would come in and tell how many hundreds of homeless teens their are within a 20 mile radius, how many aborted babies' mothers are seeking counseling for the emotional trauma of their now regretted decision, how many grown men in prison break down in tears and express a more authentic repentance than I could ever hope to mature to, and the list goes on. I would often leave class in tears to go sit and silently absorb how real the pain must be in those people's lives. After watching the videos and reading the stats, I find myself in a similar position with this topic. What must it be like to be an 8 year old girl getting raped multiple times a day? I mean, how do we even begin to empathize or become a vehicle of change?

While living in Bend, Oregon, I read a book called "Sold". It is an explicit account of one girl's story as she journeys from innocent farm-girl to scared and confused sex slave. That book was heart shaking and continues to be one of my favorite "mess you up" books. As I was then, I am again at a loss for words (and action) as to how to respond to such evil in the world. I guess I can start by committing one silly little blog post to the subject. Someday, I'd like to ransack a brothel, crack the faces of the pimps with my fists, bust through each door and throw the perverts out the windows. But for now, I'll post a video, an article, and bring some awareness to those who are taking a more civilized and fruitful approach to combating this evil in the world.

To watch the video, read an article, and (dare you) engage in dialogue, click HERE.

Patagonia Trip Report

Day 1: Meet up with Jeremy in Atlanta, fly to Buenos Aires, go downtown for the day, eat, nap, wander on the streets, goof around. Back to airport, fly to Calafate. Share taxi and dinner with Canadian photographer on 3 month vacation who was assigned to Olympic Games track meet. Beat him in pool after being trash talked (sucka). Share hostel with 4 Israeli military women on leave from service.

Day 2: Rent a car, drive through barren wasteland, see wild sheep, alpacas, ostrich-type-things, pink flamingos and horses. Drive through no-wheres-villa town and see Barney and Spiderman putting on a show for the kids. Highly suspect Spiderman is drunk. Cross the Chilean border, go back and get legal permission from Argentina to do so. Stay in favorite little mountain town, Puerto Natales. Watch the sunset at 10pm.

Day 3: Get a late start, drive the wrong way to El Torres del Paine but get there anyway. Help out four "we had enough money to get here, but not enough money to get home" brothers. Gear up. Hit the trail for four hours. Arrive at overcrowded campground. Show off on the local slack line and pull up bar. Cook some canned raviolis. Bond with bro.

(notice the flying rocks :)

Day 4: Get up before the sun. Sit next to a rushing river. Don't see a puma. Start hiking the accent to the towers. See the sunrise hit the rocks in a majestic manner for 30 seconds and then disappear behind the clouds for the rest of the day. Sit at base of the towers. Talk with a German in old school track shoes and a recent grad from Washington. Throw things, climb things, build things. Stay there for 6 hours. Back to base camp. Clean up, cruise back down the trail in 2.5 hours. Head back to Puerto Natales for the night. Eat the best chicken sandwich on the planet.

Day 5: Drive dirt roads forever. Don't pick up the hitch hiker between borders. Pick up a French hitch hiker at the corner of where-in-the-world-are-we and going-my-way. Share stories until we arrive at Chalten, base town of Jeremy's big climb. Check out the place (all 8 blocks of it), wonder if we are in Argentina or on an adventurists college campus. Hang out with the locals, do big cookout with campers, have meaningful conversation with Canada's #1 college rower who isn't sure if she should continue training since graduating. Snicker as she says to group (but directed at me), "yeah, but you just don't understand the sacrifice of training at that level." Share my story, embarrass her kindly, hopefully inspire her to follow her heart instead of her fears. Day 6: Wake up at 3:30am and walk around thinking its 6am. Change watch mode from "alarm" to "time" and go back to bed. Meet up with friends of Jeremy for a hearty breakfast. Pick a trail, any trail. Hike 4 hours out. See Canadian rower and "hitch hiker between borders" that we didn't pick up. Realize he's her boyfriend. Laugh, but not really and apologize. Cross a river upside down clipped to a rope. Jump across waterfall half way down. Sit near glacier at base of mountain for some hours. Stash Jeremy's gear so it's out there ready for his big climb. Hike/run back to town. Be hungry. Go out for pizza with National Geographic film crew and North Face's climbing team.
Day 7: Wake up early, pick up canadian rower, hitch hiker, and their 3rd wheel friend and take them to Calafate where I will return car and fly out. Talk about hitch hiker's motorcycle journey from canada to southern tip of south america. Awesome. Talk about rower and friend's 6 month wanderings of south america. Awesome. Drop them off and realize Jeremy has my passport in his bag three hours behind me. Not awesome. Realize he's already hit the mountains for the day and is unreachable. Fun part of trip ends. Go to la policia. Get my spanish on, get papers, get clearance, get ride, fly out to Buenos Aires. Stand in line for 1hr at airport. Be told that papers are useless, come back tomorrow with passport and new flight. Sleep on table at airport.
Day 8: 1 hr taxi ride to US Embassy. 3 hours of DMV-ish nightmare. Trade $100 for new passport. Hang out at giant park all day. Run, workout, eat red meat, decide this was a good day after all. Sit under a canopy and watch it downpour. Love it. Taxi back to airport and nervously question sanity of driver. Get laughed at by front desk airport girls and receive boarding pass. Fly out at 11:00pm. Ten hours to Atlanta, four hours to San Diego. Make to practice an hour later and have one of my better long jump practices ever and run 5x200m shake out. Help clean up relational mess of a certain high school athlete. ;) Celebrate being in the U.S. with Burger Lounge. Come home and spend evening with my wonderful wife and reminisce on helping my brother accomplish a lifelong dream of climbing in Patagonia.

Early Valentine Post

He is a man, not a boy.

He is gentle & slow to speak.
He loves me well.
He showers his body with my favorite smelling soap.
He shaves so I have a smooth face to kiss.
He never stops challenging me.
He is honored to be the driver when we go places.
He goes shopping & picks out cute clothes for me.
He prays for me.
He stops at Cheesecake factory to get me treats.

He is very patient.
He is trustworthy.
He is sexy.
He dates me.
He looks at me like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.
He surprises me.
He walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street.

He encourages.
He does my laundry for me.
He unloads the dishwasher because he knows I don't like to.
He wants our daughters to look like me.
He finds humor in the same things I find humor in.
He listens.
He listens.
He listens.
He is a giver.
He dances for me to make me laugh.
He talks in funny voices just watch me smile.
He speaks well of others.
He keeps himself from slandering.
He doesn't hold grudges.
He does not get angry with me.
He is very understanding.
He keeps nothing from me.
His kisses are so sweet.
He stands up to greet me when I enter a room.
He is a profound teacher.
He protects me.
He is not jealous.
He calls me during the day.
He visits me at work.
He stands up for me.
He is stylish & handsome.
He loves my cooking.

He succeeds at everything.
He has God's favor on him.
He is anointed.
He shares his dreams with me.
He conquers his fears with me.
He is one with me.

He is my husband.

2009 competition begins

I should be packing for my trip to Argentina tomorrow morning, but I wanted to post a quick review on my track meet this weekend in an indoor Heptathlon.

We went in with comfortable expectations. We have done little to no work yet this year in 3 of the 7 events I competed in. That being said, it was a "no big deal" meet.

Day 1

60m dash: I wanted to break 7.20 as that is the rough average at the USA national indoor meet. I ran 7.196 and was happy to start the season off with a new pr.

Long Jump: We spent just one shortened practice to grab an accurate step for the meet. That step turned out to be inaccurate, as I never even touched the toeboard once in warmups or competition. Add that to what was later realized to be an inaccurate measuring setup and this event was what I would call "trashed". My best jump went down in the books at just under 20 feet and cost me anywhere from 100-200 anticipated points. Oh well.

Shot Put: I am unusually bad at this event given my strength and speed, which continues to haunt and frustrate me. World class begins in the mid to high 40's and I hit a 43' in warmup. I went on to toss 40'1". Annoying, but I trust I'll get over this slump soon enough. Moving on...

High Jump: This event is the main (and only?) continual threat of injury in my training. That being said, we rarely practice it. We got in one good practice before the meet and my form was acceptable. I cleared 6' from a short step but kicked it off with my heels, so I ended up having to settle with 5'11". That one got to me a little bit. With a p.r. of 6'4" and the world class standard starting around 6'6", I had a hard time keeping the "no big deal" mentality I promised to console myself with. However, I did walk away feeling that this will be the year that high jump is no longer a weakness. We'll see how accurate that becomes.
Day 2:

60m Hurdles: Being a serious hurdle contender is so close I can taste it. Practice this year has shown dramatic improvement and I am finally using my raw speed through the hurdles instead of "leaping and surviving". Warmups were amazing and I felt totally dialed. Unfortunately, my growth in skill is not yet "race mature" and after the first hurdle I began going back to old, ugly habits. Trying to keep up with the fast guy in the lane next to me, I got sloppy and stopped running my own race. I think I needed that to show myself the importance of running my own race this year. 5 hurdles hit and one very bruised ankle later, I hope to have learned my lesson.

Pole Vault: Fatigue began to set in during warmups and things look to be ho-hum. However, I came in low and got in my groove as the competition went on. I cleared 13'6", 14', and 14'6" all on first attempts. I got 15' on second attempt and then had a couple of good goes at 15'6" with one bail out. As polevault seems to be an event that can take all season to get dialed in to, I was happy to see a satisfying performance my first time out. I think this may be a new p.r. while vaulting in a multi.

1,000m run: a.k.a. torture chamber. This is the first year in 15 years I do not identify with distance running. I think I have officially become a sprinter. Add to that a facility that sits at 7,000ft elevation, and I knew this was going to be a bit difficult. I tried to ignore it, knowing that my p.r. as a freshman in college would be a national record in the heptathlon. Halfway through the race, my legs proved that those days are long gone. I led strong for most of the race, but got outkicked by some skinny punk on the final stretch. I wasn't overly upset, but it's never fun to get passed after leading for 90% of a race. I was indifferent about my time, but happy to have held off a dozen competitors.

I think my biggest success in this meet was the fact that I mostly stayed in a state of joy and relaxation. My good friend Caleb, as well as my longtime mentor Pastor Mike Hernandez, have often challenged my ability to enjoy the journey instead reacting to the pressures of the environment or performance. The night before the meet, my boss called me and prayed that I would "find the joy in the journey". He nailed it on the head and this goes down as an internally successful meet. And while I was at it, I missed qualifying for nationals by just a few hundred points. That feels pretty good. I don't know that I'll do another one for the winter season, but I definitely feel positioned for a succesful spring and summer.
Now... I got a plane to catch in 7 hours for an adventure with my brother in the Patagonia Mountains. Better go pack.