Flying standby ain't all it's cracked up to be...

This post's title says it all.  And it's a lesson I learned a long, long time ago.  My days of non-revenue flying are long gone.  Sayonara to them.  Unfortunately, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML got schooled in non-revenue standby travel earlier this week.  Without going into all the gory details, she found out that running from gate to gate to gate at Chicago's Midway Airport is no picnic.  Getting told flight after flight is sold out or looks bad was NOT music to her ear, since only one of her ears works.  After the trudge to her third gate, she called me to say how much she preferred flying with me.  Well, sure you do and here's why:  A) You're confirmed.  B) You're usually in First or Business Class. C) You've got club access.  D) You have nothing to worry about.  I like flying with me too!

Anyway, she returns this weekend on a revenue ticket, so it should be an easier journey home.  She's having a great time with her sister and family.  It was her sister's birthday and having the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML join the party was a big deal.  I'm glad she was able to make this trip.  Her relationship with her sister is priceless and a wonderful example to our daughters.  My girls would do well to have the relationship that their mom and aunt have.

The Church Organ as a Weapon of Mass Destruction

For anyone that's ever attended Sunday services at a Mormon (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) church, it's a wicked solid bet that you are NOT going to hear musical stylings like these:

I can assure you that the gospel axe isn't going to be swinging in an LDS chapel anytime soon.  Nor do we get the sounds of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir piped in, or any other LDS singer for that matter (sorry, Osmonds in any form, David Archuleta, Jericho Road, etc.).  No, it's typically a pretty staid affair on Sundays.  The organ gets fired up, a few traditional hymns are sung, a choir chimes in, and that's how it goes.

On rare occasion, an organist pops up who knows how to use the church organ as a weapon of mass destruction and I mean that in a good way.  Today was one of those days.  Every six months, all of our local wards (congregations) get together for a conference.  It's two days of meetings and they always roll out this one guy who plays the devil, as it were, out of the organ.  It's pretty much awesome.  I have no idea how the organ works, I just know that he knows what levers to push to get that organ to shake the building.  He is able to interpret the hymns in such a way that he simply destroys any bad mood you might be in and it facilitates one great feeling.  He plays the organ the way it should be played.  Kind of like this:

This much I know...our organist would not have dropped dead like the organist at the First Church of Springfield did had he been presented with an interpretation of "In A Gadda Davida."  Anyway, it was a good day for music in church today.  I like days like that.

Well, that run was awful. Just awful.

After basically taking the last six weeks off from any real running, I decided to jump back in today.  The weather has suddenly gone all summer like here (minus the 90-plus degree temps and swampy humidity that we enjoyed endured this summer) and I felt I was good for a six-miler.  I was not.  What I was ready for was a serious serving of humble pie.  And I got it, big-time.  I'm not even going to tell you what my splits were for the 3.3 miles I would up running crawling.

I pretty much ignored everything I've learned since I started running two-plus years ago.  First, taking six weeks for no other reason than I was busy at work was stupid.  Second, I totally forgot that perhaps some build up was in order before marching out on a six-miler.  Third, I was fooled by Mother Nature and figured I didn't need that much water.  Basically, I need to go read this:

Because what I did today was just dumb and it was, well, awful.  Just awful.  So I'm hanging my head in shame for the rest of the day.  I'm glad we decided NOT to go down to the Chicago Marathon Expo.  That would have been humiliating after today's run slog.

So I've got two weeks to get myself ready for my last race of the year.  It's a 5K but it's in Utah so it's elevation and it's so not flat.  It's the third year I've run it and I need not humiliate myself or Our Lady Of BYU, who will, in theory, be there cheering me on.  There's work to be done.

When it's time to change, it's time to rearrange...

An impressive group of philosophers from the Brady School once said, and profoundly I might add, "When it's time to change, it's time to rearrange."  Brilliant counsel, brilliant.  I've taken shelter in those words as I find myself on the precipice of a significant change starting tomorrow.

You see, after more than twenty years in the same professional field, I am starting a new role in my company completely outside of what I've been doing.  This is very significant for me.

 I've loved what I've been doing.  I got pretty darn good at it and have had the chance to literally go around the world sharing that skill and being able to interact with some really great people.  I've been very, very lucky.   It's been a very good career and one that has been very good to me.  And yet, I've sensed that it's time to try something else.

My current employer is aggressive at promoting from within and giving people the opportunity to stretch their skill-sets in new roles.  And that's what has happened to me.  I'll be working in a new area, completely outside of what I've been doing for the last twenty years.  It looks like it's going to be a very rewarding role, as I will be working in a community-facing role.  I'm excited and, well, a little hesitant.  Hesitant in that the scope of this change is huge for me and change is always a challenge.  But it'll be good.  I mean, the philosophers at the Brady School taught us that.

If you're wondering about how you can learn more about the geniuses at the Brady School, let me give you a video preview of their instruction on change management:


I don't apologize for them.  How could anyone apologize enough?