Stickers equal smiles

I always knew that stickers could cure sadness.

For some reason, today was just a "blah" day. I woke up a little late and barely had time to get my run finished and make it to work on time. So, I already felt rushed. Then, my first two classes didn't quite behave as well as I prefer, and tasks that I need to complete just seem to pile on at the most inopportune times. I feel like I already have enough stress in my life, but more keeps jumping on board.

Oh, and grad classes started back up last night, and I started thinking about all of the work I need to do for my capstone project (essentially my thesis paper) on top of the reading and assignments I have for the other class. I know I really shouldn't allow such matters to stress me out, but I can't help but get a bit of anxiety when I think about the limited amount of time I will have once track season officially begins and we are at meets almost every weekend.

Breathe.

Today quickly turned into one of those days that you really just don't care to happen again. Your hair looks bad. Your head won't stop hurting. You just want to curl up in bed and fall asleep for a really, really long time. You find out news you didn't want to hear. You realize that you don't have all of the things for which you hope in life. You feel guilty for not being as thankful as you should for the things you actually have. You face reality.

Sigh.

Unicorn happiness

One of my students noticed that I was a bit down in spirits, and she asked me if everything is OK. I told her it would be, and she then asked me if it would be OK if she printed something that would make me feel better. Of course. The next thing I knew, she was cutting out a picture of a unicorn and taping it to me. "Ms. Merrill, whenever I'm having a bad day, you always give me stickers. I don't have any stickers, so I'm just going to put tape on this so it's like a sticker."

If that didn't make me smile, I would question if I had a heart.

If that weren't enough, she then printed out a rainbow, colored it, wrote "You're Awesome" on it, and taped that to me, as well.

I always notice that stickers make my students happy, and now I know why. Sure, they are in high school, and I am 27, but there is something about the magic of a sticker that can brighten up a sullen mood and create joy where it wasn't before. Stickers carry such specialness with them, especially when they come from the heart of people who truly care. I think that was one of the best things about my stickers today—my student actually cared that I was having a bad day, and she wanted to make it better.

This is just one more reason I feel so blessed to have the job I do.

Stickers rock.

I think God constantly places stickers and sticker-givers in our lives, though they aren't always so obvious as pretty unicorns and personalized rainbows. It's the women at Payless who gave you a 40 percent off coupon simply because she had extra; it's the man at Tom Thumb who let you cut in line when your hands were full because you were too thoughtless to get a cart; it's the little girl at the playground who kisses her brother's skidded knee to try to make his wound heal faster; it's your parents giving up their extra hours of sleep on a Sunday morning to come stand in the cold and watch you run a race; it's that friend who drops everything she's doing when you call her crying in need of an ear; it's that God who delights when you sing praises to Him at the top of your lungs, even though you don't even know what it means to be "on key"; it's that God who gives you these stickers when He knows you need them most.

I know stickers aren't the cure-all for every pain and trouble in this world. In fact, they are really just temporary items that only make you forget reality for a moment or two. But they are fabulous.

Stickers are for all ages, and there are no requirements to being a sticker-giver—other than they should come with love. So, in a way, I guess stickers do hold more value than truly meets the eye, because love carries with it such magnitude.

And love—even in the form of stickers—can sure make a heart smile in an instant.

Running through clouds

I am not a fan of fog.

I mean, it complicates almost everything. I think we all know it makes driving a bit harder, and it just makes the day look ugly. It's so eerie—like a creepy scene from a "scary" movie.

According to the Farmers' Almanac, fog forms when the relative humidity reaches 100 percent at ground level. This is not pretty for multiple reasons, one of them being my hair. Anyone with naturally curly, frizzy hair understands the disastrous effects of humid situations. Anyone who doesn't have this type of hair, well, consider yourself lucky. So, yes, essentially one reason that I don't like fog is because it makes my hair look bad. Chalk it off as one of my shallow attributes.

Obviously I will never move to Point Reyes, Calif., which is the foggiest area in the U.S. and has more than 200 days of fog each year. Gross. Most recently, fog has been a problem in New Delhi, India. Hope you weren't planning on flying there today.

The fog won't stop us.

Fog also is not my favorite running condition. Not only does it limit visibility and make it more difficult for cars to see runners in the street (and runners to see the oncoming cars) but it's also not the most fun thing to feel like you are running through some damp abyss. All you can do is suck it up and keep running through the conditions as if it's just another obstacle that won't stop you from your ultimate goal.

The truth is that we can't really control fog or stop it from happening. There are even going to be foggy moments in our lives where we feel like all we can see is the space of a few inches in front of us, and we have absolutely no idea what lies on the road ahead. This is simply where we have to rely on God to get us through those foggy places—to make sure the sun rises again and warms up that fog until the point where it evaporates from our lives.

I suppose you could even try to embrace the fog while you are wrapped amidst its vapors. After all, when you are walking through fog, you're basically walking through a cloud—why not make it Cloud Nine?

Don't let fog get you down—just plow through it and wait for the Lord to make the sun rise and your path clear.

Understanding standards

Running brings out the most inappropriate me.

And I'm completely OK with that.

There are many things I do in the world of running that I would never even think of doing in any other atmosphere of my life. (OK, perhaps I might briefly consider a few of them, simply because I've done them so much in the running realm, but then reality and my somewhat reasonable thinking skills set in, and I make the wiser choices.)

The following are things that are distinguishable in and around running/racing versus everywhere else (warning: Some of these things are gross. Don't judge.):

-It's OK to blow snot rockets when you're running. However, I don't advise you do this while at work, especially if you work at a place where there are people.

-While walking down a hallway or street, if you throw something in the direction of a trash can and miss, don't assume a volunteer will get your rebound and dispose of your trash properly.

-I admit that I've used bushes, areas behind parked cars and dumpsters, and other various places as alternative bathrooms. This would not be considered appropriate in different arenas of my life. There's likely time to find an actual bathroom with flushing capabilities.

-Portos are your best friends before (and sometimes during) long runs and prior to races. They are disgusting and almost unbearable at any other point in time.

-Spitting is second nature. Just make sure you don't spit on other runners. Spitting in public while walking around the mall probably isn't a good idea.

-I would never walk around in a bra while running errands or hanging out at Starbucks. I like clothes. But in those scorching summer months, the less clothes you wear, the better. It's more common than not to see women running in sports bras and men not even acknowledging that shirts exist.

-Talking about GI issues and chafing at work or a dinner date probably wouldn't be considered desired conversation material. It sure is chat-tastic with your running buddies, though.

-It's understood that the faster runners should be right on the start line, and no one makes a fuss when they go to the front right before the race begins. Don't expect the same reaction from people at check-out lines, even if you are a speedy shopper or super fast with your credit card.

It's acceptable to get muddy in the Mud Run.

There are many other things in life like running, where it's OK to act a certain way in one setting, but it would be completely unacceptable elsewhere. In general, sports are like that. I mean, you don't usually see guys slapping each other's rear ends in public, but they are perfectly comfortable doing it on the courts or playing fields. It just makes sense that things are sometimes different in various settings.

It doesn't make sense with faith, though.

Faith should be consistent. We shouldn't simply praise the Lord when we're at church or surrounded by our believing friends. We shouldn't deny God or become completely different people when we've left those safe places. This is one thing that shouldn't be regulated by what societal norms are and what the rest of the world deems acceptable.

It's not that strange to race as a bumblebee.

When the running shoes are off, and the heels are on, the bad manners will be contained; Jesus will not.

Beholding beauty

I don't get art.

I'm not a museum-goer, and I could never be one to stand around and try to interpret these "masterpieces" that others created. It doesn't matter if it's some famous work by an artist whom everyone knows or some lesser-known hopeful spirit with a treasure now displayed for the public. To me, it's just another creation that is beautiful to some and meaningless to others.

While I don't always understand art, I still try to appreciate it, because I know it's significant to the person who made it.

This desk and the person who painted it are beyond beautiful.

One reason I don't necessarily find intrigue in standing in front of sculptures and paintings and talking about them endlessly is because I have other interests (i.e. sports—I would much rather debate whether or not a receiver's foot came down before he stepped out of bounds than the message a painter was trying to convey in his picture where it looks like the sky is attacking the earth). But, at the same time, I can look at these pieces and know that, whether I recognize it immediately or not, these creations are indeed special, because people took the time to make them. They focused on intricate details and took personal care in ensuring these things were perfect in their eyes.

Even if I never understand art or find meaning in paintings and whatnot, it really doesn't matter. Each piece is special to its creator, and it's fabulous in his or her eyes. Who cares if outsiders stand around and degrade the works or go gaga over them with praise and accolades? It's beautiful to someone, and that's what really counts.

It's similar with God. We may not always like the way we look, or we may receive insults from those around us, but our Maker thinks we are beautiful. I think that's why it's also important for us to find the things in other people that make them so precious and so loved. God created each one of us uniquely, and who are we to belittle anyone created by the greatest Artist of them all? We are all pieces of art that He made to dwell one day in the most amazing museum one could never even imagine.

I am going to make it my own personal goal to keep these things in mind more. Even though I may not appreciate abstract art or interpretive art or anything like that, I can surely find the specialness and beauty that my Maker put here on earth.

If it's fabulous in His eyes, then it should be no less in mine.