The Difference

My gear was well packed and getting to the starting line wasn't a problem. I had a certain confidence that all would work out, even though the pre-race jitters were still inevitably apparent. This was my second time racing in an endurance bike race. Last year, I went one hundred kilometers, but this year, I was tackling the one hundred mile distance. Early in the race, my tire lost some air and help was solicited from a man I refer to as Bike Angel. Next year, I aspire to be proficient enough at all things involving routine tire maintenance. This year I would just have to rely on the good graces of the angels amongst us. Shifting gears, balance, hydration, nutrition, and navigating closely to other bikes are skills with which I feel comfortable now. Bit by bit, I am learning this sport and maybe someday someone somewhere will refer to me as his Bike Angel. My, what a difference a year makes!

My kids were packed up in the car with their church snacks, games, and coloring books with fifteen minutes to spare. We were actually going to be on time for sacrament meeting. We sat in the front of the service because the kids could actually stay in the pew for more than five minutes at a time. Zachary sang all of the hymns and halfway paid attention to the speakers. Nathan played with his coloring book and although there were a few outbursts, he remained generally quiet. We're still working on not running in the hall and I apologize if you've been run over by the hooligan Roark children. There is still lots of room for improvement. It has been two years this week since being baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. Much of my focus has been spent on learning the gospel, making major changes in family schedules and adopting the completely new lifestyle that being a church member requires. By next year, I aspire to have set my house in order enough to be answered prayer for others. My, what a difference two years makes!

Rachel Roark