Once there was a man named George and he was such a saint.

Two weekends ago, Jason competed in a triathlon in sunny and beautiful St. George. Congratulations sweet husband! I still can't believe you took first place!!! SO awesome!!! And they're putting your picture on a billboard!! And we're having another baby!

Just kidding about all of that. We didn't even go to St. George. Just kidding we did. But JK about everything else, except the congratulations to my husband part. And SJK about the baby (sorta JK) because we are having another baby (hopefully). But not in 9 months. You're so gullible. Is my writing annoying sometimes? Because I'm annoying myself right now. Blah. Moving on.

Wishing Daddy luck before the games begin. So weird his number was 1588. Because that's been his lucky number for his whole adult life. It was his number one time when he was waiting to be seen at the DMV. It was the number of girls he kissed before entering into wedded bliss. And it's the number of human hair wigs he has in his vast collection. (JK. But my friend Tamra just told me why her husband's favorite number is 4... and I thought it was such a funny thing to have a favorite number, but then she told me all of the many sentimental meanings behind the number, and I was utterly fascinated by it all. I wish I had a favorite number.) Moving on. Again.

Look at my photographering skills. Okay fine, it was Ashlyn's. But still. I can tell he's looking for me here, trying to tell me how much he loves me. I also love this pic because shots of people gasping for air really are the most flattering. His arm pit hair looks nice, too. Go Jason you stud muffin! (I normally reserve stud muffin for when you and I are all alone, but this totally warrants it publicly.)

This is the only decent pic I got of him with his bike. All the other ones are blurry. Curse the orange barriers everywhere in my life. Everywhere! PS Look at those arm muscles. That's why I married him folks. He could let the rest of his body go, but I don't know what will happen to us if he ever lets those guns go.

Scarlett was just happy to be there part of all the magic. She was even crying when he crossed the finish line. Sometimes the cause of tears among infants is a real guessing game, but I like to think she was really moved by the whole scene.

Lucy's face when I told her daddy's time on the bike:

She's kindof turned into something a bit like Mickey with Rocky.

Flashing NorthStar gang signs. Representin'.

It's amazing how much younger running keeps you looking. Really amazing, here he is on his second lap:

Seriously, I loved this kid. Not as much as I love my husband, but still. I cheered really loud and did the Arsenio Hall arm pump for him.

And, the glorious welcome at the finish line:

We went down with two other couple friends of ours, and all four of them did it too. I wasn't sad to be on the sidelines, I mean I know I could have made everyone proud if only I didn't have these dang little kids to watch. Kindof like that Jack Handy Deep Thought, ya know the one about the plastic sacks...

To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, "Hey, can you give me a hand?" you can say, "Sorry, got these sacks."

Yup, sorry. Got these kids. No triathlon for me. Dang it.

We did however go on a bike ride the following day in between conference sessions (me and my flashy new road bike's second go together, Jason pulled the wee ones in our bike trailer) and I may or may not have asked him, "Do you have any idea what the word casual means?? Because this is not a casual bike ride nor Sabbath appropriate..." (like we had clarified in conversations prior to outing). So we hoofed up our "casual" bike trail, up snow canyon state park with 50 mph wind blowing sand in our faces making me swerve all over the trail... I might have had to hop off my bike and walk it up every single hill we came to while I was receiving encouragement from all 5 other adults present (5 post triathlon competitors), "You can do it Meradith!" and, "Are you shifting gears properly? I don't think you are..." and I might have resorted to telling Jason, "I'm so hating you right now" while big tears streamed down my face. I might have told him also, I know I can do this... I don't WANT TO DO THIS... and I don't have anything to prove... and When I say I wanna go on a casual bike ride it's not because I'm some lazy incapable person who can't do hard things... I've done plenty of hard things and I know I can do hard things... and may have also asked him, regardless of how much sense the question made or makes presently, Why do you always wanna make me do Pioneer crap??

Wearing a helmet didn't make me feel any better about myself while this was all taking place.

But don't you worry. We made up. And we're stayin' together.

{To better understand my hostility, go here.}

All in all, it was a blissful weekend of ourdoorsy accomplishments, personal achievement and spiritual renewal! (In all seriousness, I really do think General Conference makes for my very favorite two weekends of the year. I am so very grateful.)