Why I Should Never Have A Blog.

Seriously. I shouldn't. In the day to day of my week life, I'm in front of a computer at least 65% of that time. That gives me plenty of time to work, stalk Facebook, and do as much browsing on LDS.org, TMZ, People, EW, and MTV as I'd like. I do ALL of this, but actually typing what I do when I'm not being a computer monkey is about as entertaining as getting a root canal.

That said, life's been pretty interesting in the past month or so since my last entry.

I had an amazing first by completing the Aramco Half Marathon, part of the Chevron Houston event. When a good friend asked me to compete with her back in September, I agreed partially because I knew she'd be there with me to train. April and I peeled ourselves out of bed at 5AM for the next two months to do sprint drills and run in Memorial Park. I was satisfied with the progress we were both making--until I rolled my ankle. I took a week off from running. That week turned into a month. By the time I ran again it was Thanksgiving and April had abruptly moved to Salt Lake City.

During my month long hiatus, I went back to weight training, my first love. While rekindling my affair with weights, I kept having some major doubts: When can I run again? Will I be able to compete? What if my ankle doesn't heal properly? I've been a sprinter since middle school, but distance running is something I've never tackled, so I felt I had a right to be apprehensive. The funny thing is, I didn't make the decision to run until 6 days before the event.

I've never been the type of person to go down without a fight. Whether that's a good or bad thing is anyone's guess. With this, I started to get a sinking feeling that if I didn't at least try to get through that day, I'd totally be shorting myself. So with my godsister's "good luck" basket, my uncle's tips and training watch (he's a veteran marathoner), and a big pasta dinner the night before with friends, I nervously got up that Sunday morning.

The 2 hours, 20 minutes and 24 seconds I ran was nothing but a huge test to myself. I had only gotten up to 6.5 miles in training, and to see if I could make it beyond that was ballsy, if I do say so. I had a plan to run the first 6, walk for at least a mile, and then pace the rest of the run. By the time I saw that giant 6 mile flag, my legs were well warmed up and I thought I'd be okay if I stuck to my plan. But I honestly couldn't stop running. Even after I grabbed my Gatorade and water, my legs weren't ready to quit. My mind eventually agreed it shouldn't quit either, and I didn't stop until I jogged across the finish line.

My parents, heaven bless them, had rolled out of bed to catch the 7:10AM start, had watched the race in the cold, and got text message updates on my progress. They never saw me run across the finish, but when I found them in the reunion area, it was just as sweet.

I live for moments to say "I did that", no matter how hard it may have been. The only hard part about running a marathon or half is knowing that you can't let yourself down. When I was done, I was happy it was over, really ready to eat, and thankful that my family had been there to hug me...and feed me lots of pasta.

I'm looking forward to running the full marathon next year and have already stared some light training before I get into the heavy stuff by April. I figure if I can do that much work for 13 miles, nothing should stop me from doing a little more to complete 26.

My latest challenge is coming in the form of work. When I blurt the words, 'I'm a Dealer Successor' to most people, I get a blank stare. So breaking it down a bit: I work for an automobile dealer. The dealer happens to be my father, the franchise is Chrysler & Jeep, and at some point, the business could be mine. That doesn't come without an amount of work, sacrifice, and proving yourself worthy of being nominated for the National Automobile Dealers Association program.

Sometime last year I decided I'm going to work finance management--with or without my dad's franchise. I've done some things here and there that have upped my chances of being sent into the program, but what I'm working on now is major turning point.

In March, I meet with 19 other Chrysler-Jeep dealers in what's called a "20 Group". The dealer body prepares their individual progress for the quarter, presents it, and the body conferences on the information for 3 days. I've been to the Group's meetings for the past year as an escort and learning ear to my dad. This time, I'm doing the work by myself. Add the factor of being the youngest dealer and only female, and you've got a recipe for "Ashley's First Solo Meeting". The upside? The dealers usually meet in beachfront areas or major cities to relax in once the stress of daily conference is over. I'm packing my green bikini and hoping to get some fun time in Florida.

I've already started preparing the documents I know well, and resourcing on what I don't.
When I return, I'm sure I'll have had a heck of an adventure to recap and hopefully write about.

So until then, take care.

--Ash--