That's hot

I would much rather live on a fireball than on an iceberg.

I truly hate the cold and love summer. July might be my favorite month, even though I know people cringe at the thought of the perpetual heat index of 162 in which we find ourselves in Texas during this month. It's also no the best time of year to run quality racing times, but it sure is fabulous in so many other regards.

Now, I realize many people disagree with me and find the Texas summer heat to be miserable. But, I've come up with multiple reasons as to why the triple digits are actually pretty awesome.

-When you do go running, you can embrace your inner Gatorade commercial. When that sweat is dripping down your face (and every other part of your body, for that matter), just picture yourself as one of those ridiculously fit athletes, with the words "Is it in you?" printed across the screen of your life. I promise your pace will pick up a bit when you do so.

-You don't have to worry about the icy sting of cold water when you first jump in the pool. In fact, at times, it may feel more like a bathtub or hot tub. But at least you won't be timidly touching the water with your toe or making the slow, torturous entrance on the steps into something that feels like the Atlantic waters that froze the passengers of the Titanic.

-Honestly, you really don't need to check the forecast if you're concerned about what you should wear. I can help you out with that right now. The forecast: scorching hot. What you should wear: as little as possible without being scandalous.

-It's baseball season. Go Rangers! Enough said. (Just be thankful you aren't the one out there in long pants, standing in a field as the blazing sun beats down on you.)

-It sure makes a lot more sense for you to run through your neighbor's sprinklers. It also doesn't seem so strange to set up some long, ugly yellow mat in your front yard, run water over it, then run and throw your body on it, sending you sliding as you hope you don't hit some random twig or divot you missed when you covered the ground with your Slip 'N Slide.

-Come on, you know it's slightly entertaining how people continuously post the weekly forecasts and the temps on their dashboards all over Facebook. We get it—it's hot. Still, if you want a little chuckle, just peruse your news feed, focusing mostly on your Texas friends.

Summer goodness

-Two words: snow cones. It's beautiful that shaved ice and artificial flavoring can come together to make such a marvelous treat to chill your mind yet warm your heart every summer.

You may think the heat is horrible, but it's really not all that bad. It's just a period of your life you have to endure.

We will often find ourselves in the heat waves of life, when it feels like everything is beating us down, and there's no way we can win our battles. But God gives us resources to overcome these obstacles. But, just like uncovering the subtle pleasures of grueling summers, you sometimes have to dig a little more deeply than you might wish.

And when you get to the end of those struggles, God will be there with your favorite snow cone in His hand, which is right where you've been all along.

Saving turtles

I am constantly amazed by the amazing people who surround me.

And, no, Pollyanna didn't hijack my blog.

Yesterday, I was chatting with my friend Claudia, and she was telling me a story about how she saved a turtle that was trying to cross the street in the middle of a busy intersection. People looked at her like she was crazy as she darted to rescue the reptile and even almost got hit by a truck while doing so. She then took it down to the nearby water so that he could once again be safe in his natural habitat.

Without Claudia, that turtle likely would have met its doom. I mean, according to Indiana Turtle Care, there are some turtles that can outrun humans, but I've yet to see a turtle moving that quickly, and I don't think Claudia's turtle was going anywhere close to the posted speed limit. (The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are exceptions to this, and I think we all know they are too fast and awesome for cars to frazzle them.)

We've all been there, buddy.

Like that turtle, we often find ourselves caught in the busy intersections of life and in desperate need to be swept up and taken to safety. All we want to do is tuck our heads into our shells and hide from the world. Thankfully, when that happens, we have a loving God who is more than happy to stop all of the cars in those chaotic intersections from coming anywhere near us. He lovingly picks us up and takes us exactly where we need to go—to the places where we are safe and wrapped in His caring arms.

And there are also times when we have to help out those turtles in need, as well. In his book Love Does, the witty and brilliant Bob Goff reminds us that, "We were all meant to save many lives. God is always trying to save lives, and it seems He uses the least likely people to do it." When we see those turtles struggling, we need to step up and help those people who are stuck in the road and feel helpless with nowhere to go. You might be just that person who can help another pull his or her head out of the shell and find the strength to keep on going. After all, we all know what it feels like to be helpless turtles.

Sometimes in life we're going to be turtles, and sometimes we are going to be turtles rescuers.

Either way, we've got to get our heads out of our shells and face whatever comes our way with faith and the unshakeable bravery to dodge cars in even the busiest intersections.

The Skipper

Symbols often carry different meanings for different people.

Most people have distance stickers on the back of their cars to show they've achieved certain milestones by running those races. I have a 13.1 sticker on the back of my car, but I never actually think of running that distance when I see it. I've run marathons, and even the hated (and oddly/sickly loved) El Scorcho is farther than a half marathon. But, when I see that sticker, the only thing that comes to mind is how caring and supportive my dad is.

At the last half I ran back in February, I was really sore afterward and had some weird, miscellaneous pain in my lower back that the chiropractic and/or massage guy there said was something out of alignment and that he could take care of it. I gladly allowed him to start working his magic, so I got on the table and honestly thought I fell into some sort of a coma for a moment. At some point, my dad came over to tell me they were selling 13.1 stickers, and he wanted to buy me one. I told him the black with white writing would be better when he gave me the options, and he excitedly left to go get it.

When the magic man cured whatever pain had been wearing out its welcome on my body, I stood up, and my dad happily presented me with my new present. He said I should wait to put it on my car until later—the weather has been crummy all three years at the Stonebridge Half, and this year was no exception with the cold rain. Then he said something that just made my heart smile.

"I know you've run marathons, but the half is kinda like your specialty, and I know it's your favorite. Plus, you need something to symbolize your three-peat."

In that moment, I didn't even care about any of that. All I could think about was how thankful I was to have my dad as my dad.

The Skipper kicks a**.

As I've mentioned before, my dad comes to all of my races and even calls himself my "Race Guru," which I think is absolutely awesome. He really takes care of me and makes sure I'm ready to go before each race. He carries my backpack while I race, and he and my mom always arrive about as early as I do so they can be with me from start to finish. He snaps his tradition pre-race pics and is always there waiting for me at the finish line.

I love the fact that my dad (and mom, of course) is my biggest fan, and he is always there for me in other areas of my life, as well.

When I was in college, I worked at a rec center in my hometown, and a volleyball pole fell on my head the day before my graduation. Thankfully, I was taken to the hospital where my dad worked, and of course he showed up when he found out what had happened. He even went to the vending machine for me when I spouted off the exact number of the Nature Valley bars' code that I had noticed when we passed it on the way in to the place where I got my head stapled. I'm sure my dad was probably supposed to be doing something else at the time, but he stayed with me, instead, while I panicked that my head was going to have to be shaved if I had to get stitches. (Thank God they don't do that for staples. Shallow, I know.)

Then, last summer we went on a family hike, and I was still recovering from a fractured hip injury. After what seemed like forever had gone by during this walk, my hip started to hurt quite a bit. My dad noticed when I fell back some and then offered to carry me the rest of the way. My dad had bilateral knee replacement surgery, and here he was saying he would carry his 26-year-old daughter up and down hilly terrain. (My sister then actually tried to carry me, but that ended up being an uncomfortable situation, to say the least, and so I insisted on walking.) But the fact that my dad was willing to risk his knees once again shows just how caring he is.

Skipper is one of the most unique and awesome people you will ever meet, and I can't thank him enough for how much he's done for all of the Merrill crew throughout our lives. He would do anything for us, and I love that about my dad.

What's even more amazing is that our heavenly Father loves us even more than that. He's even more than a Race Guru—He's a Life Guru who will always be there for us, cheering for us every single step we take throughout our journeys.


I'm an average runner, but my dad thinks I'm special. We may not always feel significant, but our Father adores us.

I love symbols and the truths they hold. My 13.1 sticker will always make me thankful for my dad. The cross will always make me praise the One who loves us enough to die for our sins.

Father's Day is definitely a time to be thankful for our fathers and our Father.

When cars don't start

I guess that proverb that "it takes a village to raise a child" is pretty accurate.

It seems it takes almost an entire community just to help me.

I know nothing about cars, except that I really like when they actually work. So, I was a bit disappointed when I got into my car Friday afternoon after getting some groceries, and my car wouldn't start. It's not old by any means, and it hadn't been giving me any troubles lately, so I wasn't sure what the problem was. Then I realized I had no clue how to get myself out of this predicament.

I live alone, and I don't know that many people in my city. My friend Kebbers was out of town, and the other people I do actually know, I didn't feel like calling them with something that would likely inconvenience them. Plus, they are for the most part women, and they probably know as much about cars as I do. So, I stood outside my car looking for a man. Yes, I was being that stereotypical person who assumed only men walking by would be car experts. Sorry, suburban moms I overlooked. Then I sat in my car and prayed God would perform a miracle.

Finally, I had to go inside Kroger and ask for help. My miracle came in the form of good ol' Ron, one of the store employees, and one of his sidekicks who came to my rescue. Ron told me it sounded like my car battery was dead, and he came and jump-started my car and told me to take it to AutoZone, where the lovely people there could tell me exactly what the problem was. So, I stopped at my apartment to drop off my groceries and decided to leave my car running while I hustled inside and then back. I didn't want to have to track someone down in my complex to give me a jump, too.

It's nice when cars work.

At AutoZone, some guy named Kyle ran a diagnostic test and told me my battery was dead. Thanks, I had heard the same from Ron and told Kyle originally that this was likely the case. However, he also added that I needed a new alternator. Umm, what? My car is not even three years old. How could I already need a new alternator? (Again, I know nothing, but I do know that alternators are kind of important and should last longer than three years.) Kyle then threw out some numbers and technical talk at me, likely knowing it would be like he was speaking Mandarin (which I cannot speak, by the way), and told me I needed both a new battery and a new alternator.

I'm a teacher, not a CEO.

I told him I would buy the battery, and he let me know that the alternator would continue to drain the battery, so I needed to get that alternator as soon as possible. At this point, I decided to call my dad, because I was starting to get frustrated standing out in the heat while Kyle installed my overly priced battery that apparently wasn't going to last me more than a day or so. My dad told me to call our family friend who works on cars. I definitely didn't have his number and told him I wasn't calling him, so he said he would then would call me back. When he called me back, this is what he said: "Get the battery, drive your car to Ruben's, and don't turn on your air conditioning or radio the whole way, because if it's the alternator, you need as little running as possible."

Oh, good, that would be fun in the Texas summer heat.

As I drove on the highways with my windows down (well, partly—the shallow part of me couldn't roll them all the way down because of my hair. I know, it's ridiculous. Welcome to my life.), my dad called me about three or four more times, and he told me he and my mom would meet me at Ruben's after they finished golfing. They were on hole 16 on the golf course, so it shouldn't be too long.

When I got to Ruben's and let him take a look at it, he basically told me that he thought my alternator was fine and that the guys at AutoZone were just trying to rip me off. My blood started boiling. Ruben said he would run some more tests just to make sure, but he was almost certain it was just my battery that needed replacing.

My parents finally showed up in their visors and golfy attire, and after a good amount of letting my car run and assessing all he saw, Ruben confirmed that my alternator was just fine. My parents felt really bad for me and said they would pay me for the battery. (I promise I'm not spoiled—I just have the most incredible parents ever. I'm not biased—that's just fact.)

As I drove home, I started thinking about how alone I had felt in that Kroger parking lot. I felt so helpless and fragile, yet God provided for me in so many ways and ensured everything worked out. My God, who has the whole freaking world in His hands, cares enough about me to make sure that I have a car that actually works. He cares enough to surround me suddenly with His God-sends when I was feeling so abandoned and powerless. Instead, His power swept in and made everything OK.

Things aren't always going to be easy in life, and lots of curve balls are going to be thrown our way. Thankfully, we don't have to be alone in these times. Even when we are feeling completely by ourselves, God is still always with us and will send us who or what we need to get us through these times. He's eternally faithful like that. Just like my parents came straight from the golf course to bail their 27-year-old daughter out of a rough day, our heavenly Father will always be there with us through both the good and the bad.

And, unlike a car battery, His love endures forever.

It's OK to be awkward

I think all people have a little bit of awkwardness in them, but some just show it more than others.

Unfortunately, I am part of that "some."

It's safe to say that I often find myself in uncomfortable situations, so much to the point where I am now completely comfortable in those moments. Today at Target, there was a really cute fireman (at least he was wearing a firefighter shirt, so I'm assuming he's legit), and I almost found it routine that I tripped on my flip-flop when he smiled at me as I walked by him.

Yes, most of my awkward encounters happen to occur around the fellas, and I guess I blame my inexperience with them on it. Sure, I hang around guys a lot, but it's the ones I find attractive who always make me weird—well, more so than I already am. The fact that I've never dated anyone doesn't help matters any, and I'm sure if a date ever comes my way, it will be some palm-sweating fun. I think it all started at some point in middle school, which I consider the most awkward years of our lives. I think it's self-explanatory as to why.

Just an ordinary day

I didn't change much in high school, seeing as how I once darted into a science class full of seniors just to avoid an encounter with my crush when we were both walking down an empty hallway. I figured it made more sense to stand against the door and let him pass while the teacher and classroom full of upperclassmen stared at me rather than having to say "hi" to the cutie in the hallway. So reasonable.

We all have our own quirks, and I think we should be comfortable to be who we are, because we are precious in the eyes of our Creator, even if others see us as strange. Did I think the lady walking in front of me into Target was a little bit cray cray when she thought the sound of a revving motorcycle outside was "a broken door"? Yes. But God adores her.

My sister inherited my abilities to have some quite memorable moments, and I love every single one of her "so listen to what happened…" stories. She may create some of the most socially awkward situations, but the Lord delights in her, and I think she is the most precious thing He's ever put on this planet.

Even when we find things people do to be strange or unusual, it's important to remember that they were created beautifully by God, and there's no reason for us to overlook that beauty. We shouldn't make people feel like they should have to change who they are—their uniqueness should be valued and loved.

No, the cute fireman in Target didn't ask for my number after I showed him my lack of grace, but I'm OK with that. Perhaps one day some guy will appreciate how flawed and klutzy I am. If not, that's alright, too.

The One who matters most still loves me, and that's the best comfort there is.

Embrace the challenge

My legs hate me again.

This morning on my long run, the route went through a neighborhood that included quite a few hills. In fact, it's our special DRP hill course out by the lake. I haven't run too many hills since coming back from my injury. I ran with my buddy Pfiffy, and we were going a pretty decent pace, so by the time I finished, my legs were practically dead. I'm not exaggerating, because that would be silly.

Even though the hills were quite the beating on my body, I'm really glad we ran them this morning. I see a lot of hills up in the area where I live, but, like I said, I've avoided them as much as possible lately. But I know that it's extremely beneficial to incorporate hill training in workouts, and it will definitely help better prepare me for when I run races that also contain slight (or major) inclines.

Plus, I actually love running hills. There is something about the challenge and pursuing it. There is something about striving to get to the top, even when it seems like the hill goes on forever and you will never quite get there. I embrace that.

Follow the right path.

It was actually quite refreshing to run the hill course today, because it was the first time I've ever done so with the sunlight out. When I've run there in the past, it's always been before sunrise, so I constantly had trouble navigating the course. Now, it's marked with white arrows drawn on the ground telling runners which way to turn (because there are A LOT of turns in these neighborhoods), but they are almost impossible to see in the dark, and you have to slow down a little sometimes just to make sure you're going in the right direction. Needless to say, I'm not a fan of that, so it was a relief to run this morning and actually be able to see. (You would think I would have the path memorized for the most part, but, unfortunately, you would be mistaken. I occasionally have trouble with directions.) But, you have to make sure you pay attention to those arrows, even in the light, because if you don't you will end up lost. It happened to me before, and it was somewhat frustrating for my friend Shaheen and I as we tried to find our way back to the original course.

This hill course is a lot like life. If we don't train our bodies and minds the proper way, we are not going to be prepared for things that come our way. If I don't regularly open my Bible, how will I be knowledgeable enough when trying to lead others to Christ and tell them about His Word? If I don't practice what I believe and try to model Christ to others, how will I show love to them when they need it most? If I don't talk to God as much as I can and carry all my praises and hopes to Him, how can I have faith enough to believe in all He has promised?

Conditioning is so important.

Also, God is there to guide our paths, and we need to make sure we are following the right arrows drawn for us and that we are actually able to see them. Sometimes, you might even have to slow down a little to see them. After all, getting lost and trying to find your way is only going to end in frustration and anxiety.

My legs may not be thrilled with me right now, but they will thank me later.

You may not see significance in some of the things you do for Christ or understand why certain things are happening or not happening in your life right now, but you will thank Him later.