Biggest Loser induced anxiety

Zac and I were watching the Biggest Loser on tv the other night.  As I was watching the contestants working out and talking about nutrition, I could actually feel my stress level rise.  The next five weeks are going to be filled with socializing, eating out, alcohol, big meals with family and traveling.  Plus we're going to rarely be near a gym, not that we'd really have any time to go to one even if we were.  I hate this feeling of dread that's welling up inside me.

Zac and I try to be healthy.  I like to think we succeed more than we fail.  We try to eat balanced meals, we like to cook at home, we don't eat out too often, we try to exercise regularly and we have spent time learning about exercise and nutrition to help us make good choices.  Of course we're not militant about things - cheesecake is still Zac's birthday desert of choice and I'm never, ever going to turn down a glass of wine - but we're finding that as each year passes keeping those extra couple of pounds off is a little more work.

Part of Zac's job is to be physically fit.  Physical training (PT) is incorporated into part of his work day.  But even without command-led PT, Zac would be more dedicated to working out than I am.  He's plenty happy to go for a run or hit the gym.  Me?  I need someone to push me.  For awhile I had a workout buddy in  Bernadette.  Bernadette is a personal trainer so she had plenty of knowledge of what we should do each day and her personality made it fun to be at the gym, despite being sweaty and stinky and gross.  She'd tell me what to do and I'd do it.  When Bernadette and Ken moved I was lost as to what I should do at the gym.  I felt self-conscious going by myself.  I took a long break from the gym and just resigned myself to running as my primary (i.e. sole) form of exercise.  (I still hate running.  But that's for another time.)

I was in a rut and finally decided to call up one of Bernadette's personal trainer friends up at the gym where Bernadette used to work.  (Schofield - the Army base up the hill from where we live.)  I signed up for 11 sessions.  And then 11 more.  And then 11 more.  I would go once a week, so that's almost nine months of having a trainer.  And honestly?  I loved it.  I love the strength training.  I love how she'd mix in weights, TRX, Crossfit and other sorts of functional exercise.  I love not having to think about creating a workout and just following orders.  I love being challenged, knowing that I would have picked up a 15lb weight when she hands me a 20lb.  I love pushing out those last few reps, knowing that I would have stopped at 15 but I don't want to fail in front of my trainer so I push out the last five to get to 20.  That's just my mental make up - I won't (can't?) push myself when it comes to exercise.

My personal trainer up at Schofield gave me an awesome rate for our sessions and I highly doubt I'll find anything even close to that in San Diego.  I also don't know what gym I'll be going to.  Military gyms are free for me, but if we end up living 15-20 miles from one I'm not sure I'm going to get off my butt and go.  Paying for a gym membership might end up being the way I go, if it means that the gym just down the street.  But then again, I don't want to pay for a gym membership and then end up standing there in the middle of things, trying to figure out what the heck I need to be doing, getting frustrated and eventually giving up to go home.  You would think after months and months of working out with someone that I'd have a good idea of what to do.  You would be wrong.  I get that you're supposed to do legs, core, back (upper and lower), shoulders, biceps and triceps.  But so many of the exercises we did incorporated multiple muscle groups that I never really was sure if exercise X was an arm exercise or a core exercise.  And exercise Y?  Yeah, that could have been legs, but it could have been arms too.  With my luck I'd end up accidentally doing 10 arm exercises and only two legs.

I don't know why this is so hard for me, or why it causes me so much stress.  I guess I'll just always be one of those people that has to dish out money to have someone tell me what to do.  And frankly, if it keeps me going to the gym and keeps me in shape, it's money well spent.  But these next few weeks are going to be tough.  There's no doubt about that.  I'm just hoping that I'll still fit into my jeans when we pull into San Diego.

T-minus two weeks

I just looked at the calendar and we leave in two weeks.


Two weeks.  Yikes.


The last four weeks has flown by in a blur.  Every day a new item is added to the moving to-do list while another item is crossed off.  We're making progress, but there's always something else that we discover needs to be done.  Mix that with my sine wave-like emotional state and it's been exhausting.  I never seem to have the time I need to complete tasks but then I find myself occasionally paralyzed, trying to figure out why I have nothing to do in that moment.  So forgive the disjointed ramblings.  My brain is scattered.


Here are some things that have happened in the last four weeks.


--We sold the truck.  When we moved out to Hawaii the Navy would only ship over one vehicle.  Zac owns a F150 pickup (the true love of his life - which I'm ok with) and we also owned a Ford Escape hybrid.  We decided that the Escape was the better choice for getting around the island.  Of course we had been on the island for only a few months when both of us realized that we were going crazy only having one car.  Me?  I hated being stuck at home while Zac drove to and from work.  True, I work from home so I didn't really need to leave but the idea that I couldn't go places whenever I wanted to irritated me.  And Zac?  He missed his truck.  He went from driving a big, bad beast of a vehicle to a SUV that turns off while you drive around parking lots.  He was a man without a country, er, truck.  So he went out and bought another F150, which he promptly drove very little because he had gotten used to the fabulous gas mileage that the Escape gets.  (Although we did drive the truck a lot when we went diving - it was nice to toss all that salty, sandy gear into the bed instead of inside the Escape.)


Like coming to Oahu, the Navy will only ship one vehicle leaving Oahu as well.  It took a while and a couple of price drops, but we finally sold the truck about a month ago.  We've been very lucky that a few of our friends have been off island for the last three weeks and have let us use/watch their cars so we've been able to maintain a two-car status for awhile.  When we leave Oahu we'll ship our car to San Diego.  Our moving travels will take us from Honolulu to Minneapolis to Nebraska where we'll pick up Zac's beloved truck and drive her back to San Diego.  By that point, hopefully, the Escape will have arrived and we'll both be able to come and go as we need to.


--We've continued looking for a house but haven't put in any offers.  We've resigned ourselves to the fact that we really want to see the neighborhoods and houses in person before we start making any decisions.  To ensure that we weren't homeless upon our arrival in San Diego we signed up for military housing.  We've been assigned a house already so we'll be able to move in as soon as we get there.  Added bonus: there is no penalty for terminating the lease early if we buy a house.  SD is a large, urban area and there seem to be houses popping up all the time that are in our price range and desired locations.  The trick is trying to get to them quickly.  It seems that a lot of houses are only on the market for a few days or a couple of weeks and they're gone.  We're going to have to be fairly aggressive when we get there to purchase something.


--The movers came today to pack out our first shipment of goods.  The Navy provides two shipments - a small shipment of about 600 lbs and a larger shipment of everything else.  (Up to a certain weight limit based on rank and the number of dependents.)  The idea is that the small shipment gets packed out first and is delivered "quickly" to your next duty station so you're not living in a vacant apartment/house for any length of time.  You're supposed to send things like some pots and pans, dishes, linens and clothing in that first shipment.  The larger household goods (HHG) shipment follows and sometimes takes a little longer to transit to the new duty station.  


The Navy will allow one delivery of each type of shipment and will hold your goods for you for about 90 days before they start charging you for storage.  For us that means that we will have our smaller shipment delivered when we get to our military housing assignment, but we're going to wait to have our larger HHG delivered when we buy a house.  (Otherwise we'd be responsible for moving that smaller shipment and the larger shipment into the new house on our time and our dime.  I don't want to un-pack and re-pack everything we own within a couple of months and frankly, with Zac being on sea duty, who knows if he'd be around to help.)  The end result is Zac and I will have to live up to three months on the stuff we shipped out today.  It's really quite amazing how much 600lbs is, but I'm sure it won't look like much when we move into military housing.  I'm guessing that's going to be a pretty empty house while we're there.


--Zac re-enlisted in the Navy for three more years.  I was excited that I was able to be there for it.  Zac has re-enlisted once while we've been together, but that was while he was in El Salvador so I wasn't able to be there for it.  Usually when a sailor re-enlists he picks where he wants the ceremony to take place.  Sometimes sailors can be pretty creative.  A lot of sailors out here re-enlist on the USS Missouri, which is always cool.  Zac was debating where he wanted to do his and he finally settled on doing it out in Pearl Harbor, on a rigid hulled inflatable boat (RHIB) in front of the sunken USS Utah memorial.  (On the opposite side of Ford Island from the USS Arizona memorial.)
When Zac first mentioned it to me I thought, "That's awesome!  What a cool place to do it!"  But then it dawned on me that I probably wouldn't be able to go out with him on the RHIB due to safety issues or Navy regulations or some sort of protocol that would prohibit civilians such as myself from going with them.  Luckily for me, Zac's Commanding Officer was more than generous and let me accompany them on the RHIB for the ceremony.  I even got a certificate thanking me for being a supportive wife.  That was really neat.  I'm really grateful for the chance to be there.  It's a short ceremony.  Zac leaves the Navy, he's awarded a letter thanking him for his service, a couple of seconds pass and then they swear him back in.  Lots of photos and handshakes.  Once of Zac's favorite parts of his job is tooling around out there on the RHIBs, so it was only fitting that that's what chose for his location.  And doing it in front of the USS Utah just added to the day.


--I resigned as Zac's command ombudsman earlier this week.  While I was relieved to be taking that task off my plate, as I handed over the information and passwords to the newly appointed ombudsman I found myself sad to no longer be involved in Zac's command.  I know some spouses like to be involved and some don't - everyone needs to do what's right for them and their family - but I enjoyed helping out.  I like knowing what's going on and sharing that information with others.  I understand that at Zac's command here in Hawaii that the ombudsman wasn't called upon to do much but I felt like I tried to be available to people so I'm chalking it up as a successful experience.  Maybe I'll do it again someday.


--I also tried to volunteer with COMPASS in August and September.  I say "tried" because while the volunteers showed for the class none of the participants did (save one lovely woman who showed up for the September session).  The August session fell victim to some internet registration technical glitches and the September session was just a bust.  I wish I could come up with another way of putting it, but it really was just a bust.  We had something like nine people sign up and on the first day of class only one person showed, despite reminders the day before.  Two people had people in their family fall ill so they couldn't attend, some people had other things come up, a few we couldn't get a hold of and two of them just plumb forgot.  It was really frustrating for a number of us volunteers that had tried two months in a row to get the classes together only to have them fall apart the day of.  I'll hopefully be able to volunteer with COMPASS in San Diego so I'll have other opportunities to contribute and meet people, but I really like the people I volunteered with out here and I was really quite sad that I didn't get do the class one more time with them.


I've been pretty good so far at keeping my stress level in check, but I think it's going to be increasingly difficult as more and more things become the "last" time I do things out here.  The last time I drive over to the North Shore, the last time I go to the beach, the last time I go to our favorite Thai restaurant, the last time I see my friends.  Only two weeks left.  Eek.

The calendar is filling up fast

I'm looking at the calendar for the remainder of September and October.  Pretty soon every single day is going to have something scheduled on it.  Time seems to be moving more quickly as we approach the move.  Today the moving company sent someone over to do a walk-though of our house so he could get an idea of how much stuff we had.  The scheduling system originally had us scheduled for two days of packing at a third day for the pick up.  I had guessed that our stripped-down existence would only warrant one day of packing, and it turns out I was right.  So now it looks like we'll be packing on a Monday and vacating the house on a Tuesday and flying off the island very early Thursday morning.  Now that we know when we're moving, we also have to go over to the housing office and give them our notice.  After we give them notice, they'll schedule a walk-through as well and let us know what we'll need to do to get the house ready for the final check-out inspection.  


We're still house-hunting in San Diego.  We're working with a realtor and we've been pre-approved on a loan.  We spend at least a couple hours per day looking online at houses.  We just sent a list of houses we like to the realtor so she can get a better understanding of what we're looking for.  Zac purchased a house in Oklahoma so he has some familiarity with the process.  It's all new to me, however, and it's a bit overwhelming.  I think it would be less stressful if we were there and do more of the research in person.  We have a few good friends in San Diego that are willing to go out with our realtor and take a look at the houses we like.  We trust them to ask the right questions (they're homeowners) and give us their honest opinion about the places.  I'm nervous about putting in an offer on a house when I haven't seen it in person, but I like the idea of getting the paperwork moving so we have a place to live sooner, rather than later.


A note to all of my Minnesota peeps - we're only going to be in MN for about 54 hours this time around.  We probably won't catch most people, aside from family.  I'm hoping for a return visit to MN, hopefully in the winter, when we can spend some more time socializing.


On the job front, I applied for a job in San Diego a couple of weeks ago.  What was odd about this position is that they didn't accept any electronic submissions.  No e-mailing or faxing your resume/application.  They specifically stated paper only submissions.  Wha???  Paper?  What is this, 1987?  Plus, the job was only posted for about a week (encompassing Labor Day weekend) so they suggested you use FedEx to make sure it got there on time.  So I coughed up $30 to FedEx to get five pieces of paper out to the hiring manager out in Washington DC.  Great.  Now I'm paying for (probable) employment rejections.  Terrific.  At least I'm providing jobs to FedEx employees.


We've got the 2011 Khaki Ball on Saturday.  This will be our fourth one here in Hawaii.  I've got the dress, but still no shoes.  I'm not really that excited for it, to be honest.  None of the couples from our social group are going.  Zac and I invited a friend of ours whose husband is currently stationed overseas, however, so Zac will be the man with two hot dates that night.  It really doesn't seem like that long ago that we went to our first Khaki Ball here and I was meeting people, having a hard time keeping names straight.  And now some of those people have become my closest Navy friends and have moved on to new duty stations.  What a strange last three years.


It's not all doom and gloom around here.  Zac and I have been taking a digital photography class for a couple of weeks.  It's been well worth it.  There's really no point in having a DSLR if you don't know how to use all the bells and whistles.  You're paying for those features, you should use them.  I'm going to try to take some time on a couple of days to go take photos around island before we leave.  Actually, speaking of photos, Zac and I booked a portrait session in a couple of weeks.  They take photos at the beach at sunset.  I've been wanting a Hawaiian photo of Zac and I like that since we've got here.  I'm excited that we found the time (and will) to finally schedule one.  It will be a nice way to wrap up our time here, on the North Shore with the setting sun.  How very Hawaiian.

PCS calculations

Moving requires all sort of numbers and computations for various units of measurements - days, weeks, months, dollars, pounds, etc.  Here is how basic math reared its ugly head today:


Zac: "Dog food is on sale next week.  It's a 40lb bag.  Is that going to be too much?"
Me: [blink blink] [pause]  "Yes?"
Zac: "Too little?"
Me: "I have no idea."


Zac and I head back to the mainland the third week of October, but Toivo and Zoe are going to stay back on Oahu a friend until we settle in San Diego.  Once we get situated, she will take the dogs to the vet for their health certificates and then send them on their way to us.  Based on our plans, this might not be until the second or third week in November. We want to make sure that we have enough food (and in Toivo's case, medications) to get them through their prolonged stay in Hawaii, but we also don't want to have so much food that it goes to waste.


Zac and I decided to figure out how much food the dogs were going to need.  This meant we needed to know how much they consume in a day, how much we have remaining and how much we'll need to get us til the middle of November.  We pulled out the kitchen scale and weighed out how much the dogs get in a day.  Two dogs, fed twice daily = about 10oz.  Ok.  How much food is left?  By scooping it all out we figured we have about 10 days right now.  Let's look at the calendar.  How many weeks will we need after the 10 day's worth of food we have now?  About seven weeks.  Ok, so 10 oz of food a day for seven days is 70oz per week.  Ten weeks of 70oz is 700oz.  700oz is a little less than 44lbs.  So it looks like we're going to be getting the 40lb bag, but we will probably have to get a smaller bag right before we leave to make sure we've got enough.  Yay math!


If you're wanting me to show my work, let me assure you we did, indeed, pull out a pencil and a piece of scrap paper and did the math manually with appropriate units of measurements labeled.  It's at moments like this that I realize that for most of the general population, math beyond basic algebra is unnecessary. Understanding how to solve real-life problems is important. Calculus?  Less so.

Harsh realities and missing pieces

By this point I'm sure most everyone has heard about the American Chinook helicopter that was shot down last Saturday and the military members (both American and Afghan) that lost their lives.  I've debated what to say, if anything.  There are about 330,000 active duty members of the Navy.  Some days the Navy seems big and faceless, and then there are days that it's unbearably small.  Like when 22 sailors lose their lives and everyone seems to have known one of them.  I subscribe to the Navy Times, and every week they publish the photos of service members (all branches) that have died since the last issue.  There's never a week where there isn't at least one.  Usually it's four or five, maybe six or seven.  Each one of them is a tragic loss to their families and friends.  Each one leaves behind a space, a gap.  A missing piece.


Zac and Paul served on the Port Royal with one of the SEALs that died.  They weren't great friends or anything, but it was one of those, "Hey, I know that guy" moments when his name came up.  Zac will be going to work with some SEALs for the next three years. As I thought about how an entire team of SEALs had vanished, I asked him, "How would you feel if the guys you worked with were killed?  And not just one of them, but all of them?"  Of course it's an impossible question and there is no answer.  As much as I feel for the families of the SEALs that died, I have a great deal of empathy for all of the support personnel that worked with those guys who have to face losing so many of their comrades.  Their job is to keep the SEALs equipped, informed and prepared.  But sometimes even that's not enough.  I hope Zac never has to know what it's like to lose one of his guys on a mission.


One of the other SEALs that died was from Minneapolis.  Turns out Megan and Paul were acquainted with him back in high school.  One of Megan's friends even went on a couple of dates with him, back in the day. I know that they were both shocked to hear his name as one of the casualties.   They remember him as a 17 or 18 year old kid and probably would have never really thought of him again after high school if he hadn't been killed.  It's a strange little world we live in.


In the midst of this sadness, the Monday after news broke of the chopper crash, there was a knock on our door.  One of our neighbors was going around the cul-de-sac getting signatures on a condolence card for the family two doors down for us.  The husband was Army and had been killed a few days earlier while on deployment by an IED.  We signed the card, but knew that nothing we could write would be adequate.  I found myself doing what Zac did when he heard about the SEAL from the Port Royal - I racked my brain, trying to remember more, but I could hardly remember what he looked like.


 Zac and I don't really know most of our neighbors.  The housing community we live in is reserved for people with multiple dependents (i.e. a spouse and at least one child).  We got placed here because there was shortage of housing for what we were entitled to.  So while most of the neighbors' children run around the cul-de-sac and the parents get to know each other, Zac and I mainly keep to ourselves.  All I can remember about the soldier that died a few doors down is him coming and going to work on a few days when I happened to be outside at the same time.  I'm not sure that I ever even waved.  They moved in about six months ago.  They have two little girls.  Maybe four and two years old.  The thing that is most distinct about their family is that the maternal grandparents live with them - I'm guessing they moved in to assist their daughter with childcare since her husband had a, then, upcoming deployment.  Now they're not just helping with childcare, but helping their daughter through the process of grieving for and burying her husband.  What an entirely absurd situation.


I'm not sure that there's any point to this post.  It's all too sad and frustrating and draining.  People can argue policy and strategy all day.  And, truthfully, it's not like service members are the only people that face danger at work or who die before their time (whatever that means) and leave broken families and friends behind.  But they are good, honorable people that are doing what they are told and just want to come home safely.  And amazingly even though they know they might not make it back, they go anyway.  I'm humbled by that.  All I can do is hope that my appreciation for what they do brings at least a sliver of consolation to those who have suffered the loss.

Pretty much all set

Our Permanent Change of Station (PCS) plans are pretty much solidified now. (PCS is fancy Navy-speak for moving.) We are going to be leaving Oahu towards the end of October. We've set up the day for the movers to pack up our belongings and we've received our travel orders to San Diego for a couple days after that. It's a strange process. Lots of hurry-up-and-wait. After we got our orders in hand we had a flurry of activity filling out paperwork and pouring over our calendar, picking dates for the various stages of the move. It felt a little rushed and overwhelming, trying to make sure that everything was filled out correctly knowing that an error on our part could delay or throw the whole move off track. And then you submit the paperwork and ... nothing. You wait. Then, when the time comes to pack up and fly to the mainland, there will be another mad rush of activity and stress. I'm trying not to think about the end of October and November because I think it might prematurely exhaust me.

I've probably already mentioned this, but I'm in the throws of various emotions about leaving. I'm going to try and keep most of at a simmer, but I know they'll boil over every now and again. Even as I was going to the gym yesterday I was thinking, "I'm going to miss the drive to the gym. I love the smell of those eucalyptus trees. I'm going to miss my gym. I'm going to miss my trainer. What gym am I going to go to in SD? I'm sure we won't live anywhere near base. Even if we did live near base, I don't know where anything is. And where am I going to find a cool trainer like her that I can afford in SD?" Pretty much the entire 20 minute drive went that way. Of course I know I'll find a gym, and I'll probably find a trainer. It's just a weirdly over-sensitive state to be in. Everything is a trigger at this point. Even rainbows make my mind race.

Many of our friends moved on from Oahu previously, but we will be leaving few good friends behind upon our departure. It will be sad to say goodbye to them. I remember when I was in junior high we had an Ojibwe elder come in and teach us about Ojibwe culture, including a few words. Of course I can't remember hardly any of the words at this point. I do remember a couple of things distinctly, though. 1.) The word for blueberry pie was extraordinarily long, and, 2.) He said that they didn't have a word for "good bye" in a permanent sense, they only had a word meaning something similar to "see you later." I like to think about that whenever I'm faced with separating from friends and family. It doesn't take away all the sting, but it does incorporate a sense of hope into an otherwise sad encounter. It's not goodbye - it's see you later.

Really? A month? Yeesh.

Sorry about the lengthy wait for a new entry. Time seems to be accelerating as we get closer to the end of our stay in Hawaii.

Speaking of the "the end of our stay in Hawaii", we finally got orders in hand and we know when we'll be leaving Hawaii - the end of October. The receipt of the orders has meant a great deal of time pouring over paperwork and dates, trying to coordinate the move. Navy forms are often poorly designed, to be generous. I've attended a moving class and a transfer brief in hopes of picking up tips and tricks to making the process as painless as possible. Of course, there will always be hiccups, but anticipating them and being able to deal with them is the key.

I'm also trying to make sure we have the right budgeting in place to pay for the move. The Navy pays for most of the move, but it doesn't pay for certain things. For example, they do not pay for the transportation of pets. (That alone will run us about $750-1,000 for our two dogs.) It's an expense that I gladly accept, however. We also would like to do some traveling to see family between duty stations which will involve some additional plane tickets. Then there will also be the driving of Zac's pickup truck from Nebraska to San Diego - money will be needed for gas, lodging and meals. Fear not - your tax dollars are not paying the military to reunite my husband with his beloved F150. :)

Our move in October put our fertility treatment plans on hold. As we got closer and closer to the day in my cycle where we would have to go into the doctor's office to learn how to inject the FSH hormone, the more and more our stress levels rose. Finally, about 12 hours before we were supposed to have the appointment, we decided to wait. I didn't want to spend the last four months on Oahu monitoring hormone levels and constantly thinking about fertility. I want to enjoy my time. Planning the move is stressful enough, I didn't need anymore in my life. It was just too overwhelming. When we get to San Diego we'll probably ask for a referral to a fertility doctor there and start some treatments. For now, I'm thrilled to not be thinking about it for the first time in two years.

Zac and I spent a weekend recently over on Kaua'i. It is an incredible island. I can see why the rich and famous like to hide out there. It's so much more low-key and relaxed than Oahu. I wish we would have visited the island earlier in our Hawaii tour so we could have taken a second trip over there. There are some beaches and hikes that we didn't get to on this trip. Oh well - we'll just have to hope we get back here on vacation someday. We spent the first morning horseback riding for a few hours, taking in the views and stopping for lunch near a freshwater swimming hole. We took a quick dip in the water to cool off from the heat and my body nearly went into shock from the temperature of the water (chilly!) to the fact that I almost sank like a rock (freshwater!). Clearly I have been spoiled by the warm ocean waters of Hawaii.

On our second morning in Kaua'i we took an hour-long helicopter tour around the island. I was really nervous about it. I'm know for getting motion sick fairly easily and I was mildly terrified of all the jostling and lurching that I anticipated went with a helicopter ride. I took some Dramamine the night before and the morning of, and I crossed my fingers hoping that it would do the trick. But even with the drugs, my anxiety levels were inching upwards as we checked in with the company, viewed the safety brief, took the shuttle to the helicopter pads at the airport and waited for our chopper to arrive. When the helicopter came in for its landing (it was concluding an earlier tour) I had to note how fast it looked like it was moving. All I could think of was all of those times I went to the Omni Theater at the old Science Museum in St. Paul and wanted to vomit.

Once all the passengers had exited the helicopter, they had our group of six pile into the craft. We had assigned seating, as they need to make sure that the weight is distributed as evenly as possible. I got the rear window seat on the right-side with Zac seated to my left. They strapped us in and gave us the obligatory thumbs-up sign. I tried to smile at Zac and squeezed his knee in dread. They closed the doors, and off we went. There was a split second as we rose into the air and started moving forward that I looked down at the ground and thought, "Oooooh, this is moving too fast," but that was quickly drown out by the calming, soothing tones of Enya pumping through our headphones. The pilot/tour guide talked to us through our head sets to let us know what we were looking at. Pretty soon I was having the time of my life.

The most amazing moment happened when we came around the corner to see the Na Pali Coast, located on the west side of the island. It actually made me tear up for a second. It was so beautiful. There is no development on this side of the island. The only way to see it is by boat or by helicopter. It's stunning. The water, the cliffs. It looks like nothing I've ever seen. There are times you see things in nature and you think, "How is this even possible? How can something this beautiful even exist?" This was one of those moments. For a brief second before we boarded the helicopter, I almost chickened out. But then I would have missed the Na Pali coast, and it reminded me that sometimes you have to go outside of your comfort zone to experience sometime memorable.

In the last month we've also gone to a Dining Out and celebrated Zac's birthday, which involved me making his birthday cheesecake. It's been a fun few weeks, which is exactly how I want to spend our remaining time here in Hawai'i. I know the next three months are going to fly by, so I'm going to soak up as much aloha as I can before we leave.