Tag Archives: swimming

“Running on concrete is bad for your knees. You should run on grass.”

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I don’t make this stuff up….the title of my quick post today was what some random guy said to me, verbatim, while I went on my 5 miler at 10:30 am.  I did not stop, becuase I honestly didn’t feel like putting up a fight with some random stranger on Columbia Blvd.  I kept thinking about his quip to me during my whole run and all the things I could have said.  Below are some of the many one-sided things I would be saying to this individual if I could rewind, and some of them also include my imaginary rebuttals back after he keeps mouthing off:

 

-Yes, running on concrete is bad on my knees, but where would you suggest I go that would allow me cushion for 5 miles?

-Or what about tomorrow for 17 miles?  Oh….17 miles, yes I am running that!  You say you haven’t even driven that far?  Well that’s great.  Good for you.

-I’m running, you’re not, what have you done lately to work out, because really it looks like you haven’t

-You say I should try something else, maybe swimming or biking?  Yeah, don’t like them.  Why don’t you try minding your own business.

-Running may be bad for my knees, but that bag you’re carrying from the liquor store next to Green’s Pop Shop is bad for you liver.

-Running is bad for my knees, but sitting on your ass is bad for your gut.

-Are you going to tell the next person you see smoking a cigarette that that is bad for their lungs?  Are you now a doctor or something?

-Red meat is bad for my cholesterol, but it is great for my low iron.  Everything is life has a bad thing to it.  Sometimes you just need balance.

-Thanks.  I’ll keep that in mind.   I never would have even thought about that.  Actually, I might just turn around right now and head straight home and never run again because you my friend are a genius.

 

I could go on and on, however I have more important things to do, and lets face it—this post is just basically a gripe fest.  But it means something, and not just for running.  Imagine if as I was running I had yelled to someone “You could burn more calories if you walked faster.” Yeah, would never do that.  DON’T give your two-cents to random strangers.  Unless you’re picking for an argument or to just tick someone off, don’t even open your mouth.  

Really, in the end of this all, I don’t care what this guy said because the reason why I run is because I can. 

 

Getting Pumped for Revisiting 1991….

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How am I going to do that? Well, a Disney trip of course!!!

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Next week, my mom and I head down to WDW for 7 nights. We will be staying at none other than Disney’s Polynesian Resort. We have not stayed at this resort since our first family trip in 1991! Since our stay at Polynesian, we tried “Moderate Resorts”, like Port Orleans French Quarter, “Value Resorts”, like Pop Century, and other “Deluxe Resorts”, such as Yacht & Beach Club.

Our decision to try Polynesian again now some 23 years later was definitely rooted in nostalgia. This was the resort that started our family addiction to Walt Disney World! The location on the monorail is ideal for visiting Magic Kingdom at a come-and-go pace, and with all the new attractions in New Fantasyland, we will be focusing on the original gate a lot!

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The Polynesian Resort has gone over lots of refurbishments the past 2 decades, so the views of the quiet pool and the general resort footprint won’t be exactly the same. The photo above is an aerial shot of the Polynesian in 1991. I hope they sell new ones in the gift shop, as I would like to see the change! Another big change from our first trip is that the original main pool that my dad and I spent tons of time in has also been overhauled.

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Our dining choices in 2014 will be somewhat different than the choices in 1991…In 1991, the big dinner we did was the Mickey Mouse Luau at the Polynesian Resort. We ate family style, watched dancers and learned the hula. Have to admit, my mom will not be partaking in this again, but we do have our own special dinner booked at Victoria & Alberts and Narcooses, both found at the adjacent Grand Floridan Resort & Spa.

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We both cannot wait to experience this resort for the second time. It really puts a gold seal on our “Disney Passport” as we have now gone full-circle, so to speak…back where it all began!

How a Swimmer Became a Runner—in Ali’s Words

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The following post was written by my best friend, Ali Isham. She wanted to write a guest post, and I told her she could write whatever she wanted. Below is what she sent me today:

Andrea and I have been friends forever, and since neither of us have any siblings she is basically my sister; growing up in each others homes, more often mine since we had a pool and my parents were more likely to turn on the AC in the muggy Wisconsin summers. While we were often inseparable we are both terribly different. Anyone reading this obviously knows Andrea is big into running along with other “land” sports such as dancing/poms. I am a swimmer. And I say it that way because it never really leaves you. I was naturally good with anything water based from wakeboarding to skiing and spent the majority of my time in the pool swimming year round. I was not as gifted at land sports. I took gymnastics three times and could not pass out of level 1 because of my inability to do a cartwheel. This is where Andrea and I met when she was in 1st grade and I was in 2nd.

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I was a pool fiend. I swam with a club team year round from about 5th grade on, swam varsity all four years of high school and swam a year and a half at the University of Wisconsin – La Crosse before a torn labrum in my shoulder forced me to quit. Throughout my swimming career there was this other part to training; dryland. Dryland is exactly what it sounds like, exercises for swimmers on land. I actually currently work as a swim coach for both a club team and a high school team at Peninsula High School in Palos Verdes, California. And I put a ton of effort on dryland, making my swimmers do all the things I struggled with. I was a firm believer that you are either a water person or land person. We were big on weights, box jumps and running for our dryland. I was amazing at the weights, however always struggled with running. I dreaded mile day in high school during fitness testing. DREADED. I could swim miles in a pool at a fast pace but could not run an entire mile without stopping. It was just not my thing.

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After my injury I moved back to Milwaukee for my last two years of college. I actually put in a honest effort to become a “runner”, running around the block, willing my slow sad legs to just push to that next stop sign. I quit after a few weeks and found myself back in the pool and weight room. After undergrad I moved to LA to attend grad school at USC. Again I found myself at the beautiful USC track attempting to run. The next day I was in the pool swimming butterfly and loving every second. As grad school went on and finished and real life began I stop putting such an emphasis on exercise, making excuses of not having time and resigned myself to unhappiness in that part of my life. I talked about wanting to swim this Pier to Pier race each summer with my swimmer kids, never accomplishing it. And despite the best efforts of my amazing supportive boyfriend Kevin to get me into the gym, walking on the beach, anything, the battles eventually wound up not being worth it until July 2013.

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Lets go back a bit to 2004. I remember the day like it was yesterday, and it’s still painful. My mom called to tell me Andrea’s dad had just died after a run. I was in shock. I walked like a zombie over to her dorm attempting to figure out what to say to her. Turns out there is nothing to say in that moment. I am fortunate enough to still have both of my fantastic parents alive and cannot imagine how I would feel or react to hear the news if one them had died. I definitely cannot imagine how I would have reacted as an immature teenager.

Andrea handled her anger and pain in her own way. We grew apart, me moving to LA probably was a big part but I always felt like something had changed in her after that day. The spark that she had once had was gone, or at least diminished. I didn’t know what to say or do or how help her other that to be supportive in whatever it was she was doing. I had no way to relate.

Coming back to 2012/2013 I began to notice an increase of posts on Andrea’s Facebook page. Nights of crazy college drinking parties and booze were replaced with NikeRun info about mileage. Pictures started rolling in of finisher medals and her in adorable running attire with her hair fro’d out. It was awesome. Suddenly I wanted to be winning medals, posting cool things other than collecting another pint glass. But wait, I wasn’t a runner.

2012 I switched jobs and moved from one swim team to another right after my grandpa had passed away. I was in an environment where I wasn’t happy and made a difficult choice to move teams where I would have a lot more responsibility and be expected to up my knowledge. It was worth it to not go home miserable each day. That began my change.

July of 2013 a roommate wanted to check out a Crossfit place nearby. I was intrigued having seen some of the Crossfit Games on TV and said sure I’ll try it. The first intro session was brutal. After learning some basic movements I was dead on the floor after just a mere 8 minutes or so, but I was hooked. However, this newfound love came with a stipulation; I would have to embrace running. The enthusiastic and supportive coach Kris was amazing, however he would not back down on my learning to run. I would not have to like it, but he promised me I would be able to do it. I agreed to give it my best shot. From July until January I slowly worked on my running during warmups and WODs, still not liking it but able to go from 150m, to 200, to 400 and eventually 800. I remember thinking after completing my first 800 “holy crap, that’s half a mile”. And I know for most people running 800 meters is not a big deal, but for me it was the accomplishment of the year.

January was also when Andrea competed in her Disney World running expedition of whatever insane races they were. Her pictures were awesome. I remember calling her after she got back to ask how it went and she told me all these funny stories. I mentioned I remember seeing people at Disneyland with these cool Coast to Coast medals and asked her about them. She explained how you got them. I asked if she was ever going to run in a Disneyland race…

Two days later we are on the phone again. Turns out she can make the Dumbo Dare challenge happen this year in August, and I should run the 10k with her…I agree.

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A few weeks later we are signed up. And now I’m freaking out. I somehow have to manage 6.2 something miles, and I can’t slowly stroll the whole thing. And also in this madness I’ve agreed to a 5k Spartan race in Calgary in the middle of August while visiting Andrea. I don’t run!

One day at Crossfit I tell Kris what I just agreed to. As predicted he is beyond happy and supportive, and agrees to help me train because the idea of peeling myself off the couch and just randomly running 3 miles doesn’t seem plausible to me. He assures me it can be done, and I won’t have to run 3 miles… yet.

It starts slow, 200 sprints with lots of rest, 400 sprints with lots of rest, an 800 here, rowing and stairs every now and then and splits for everything. However a few weeks after I begin running, there is this day that says “1 Mile Time Trial”. It lurks ever closer. I decide to do as much training as possible at the track at the pool I work it. It’s a nice track with pretty views and I can usually run before or after practice. At the 1 mile for time day my one goal is just finish the mile without stopping. I do it, finishing 11:39, no stopping. A few weeks later there is 2 miles for time. I do that at Crossfit and stop a few times but I do it.
On Monday, Memorial Day I ran 3 miles, I walked maybe 200 yards of it. On Thursday I did another mile, fast, and dropped 40 seconds finishing at 11:00. I know 11 minute miles are not fast compared to the rest of the world but its fast for me, an out of shape swimmer, and I couldn’t be happier. I also shaved time off my 800 and 400.

This morning a crossfit friend Lauren ran a few 400s with me, pushing me, and when I thought my legs could not go any faster I got a PR by 9 seconds in my 400, going 2:10. I know I can manage the 5k Spartan race and am confident and I will be ready for our 10k. Andrea assures me there are lots of breaks to take pictures with characters, but I want to tackle that thing with the vengeance I used to have at swim meets.

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In just two short months running is still hard for me, but I actually look forward to it. The idea that I have to run a mile isn’t a dreaded task. And sometimes I would rather be running then doing some of the things we do in Crossfit. A huge thank you to Kevin, Kris, my swimmers/families who ask how the running is going, and my own family for the continued support. I can now call myself a swimmer, Crossfitter, and runner. My goal is to be able to hold 10 minute miles during our 10k that we are going to run together. Andrea runs because she has to to stay sane & because she loves it; I run because I need to, and now I want to.

And I will compete in that Pier to Pier swim race. Perhaps Andrea should do it with me.

Spring Cleaning 2014-Some Things You Can’t Get Rid Of

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Last weekend, my husband and I participated in my annual “Purgapalooza”, AKA Spring Cleaning. I don’t know how we acquire so much crap between two people, but we definitely downsized. Value Village reaped the benefits of our clothes that don’t get worn, books that don’t get read, and other knick-knacks that we had for no reason. It feels good to Spring Clean—I get a sick satisfaction from it.

But with any deep cleaning and reorganization comes random unexpected reflection. For instance, I reorganized all the photo albums in our house and it’s great to look through old photos. I also streamlined some of my final boxes of stuff from back home in Wisconsin, and seeing my old Nintendo set with all the random games made me smile. But, there was one special thing I found that caught my eye and caused me to have very memorable flashbacks-Pass the Pigs.

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What is this? Well, it’s a travel game from Milton Bradley. My parents bought me it sometime in the mid 90s. It’s basically a dice game, but with rubber pigs. My dad and I got a kick out of it. I remember us playing it poolside at various hotel pools, like the Pioneer Inn in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, or various Embassy Suites. See, my dad rarely used his sick days and personal days and I believe he could bank them to be used later on. So there would be some weekends that my parents and I would just drive out of town to an Embassy suites for a night or two, just to go do something. We’d swim, we’d hit an outlet mall, maybe mini golf, we’d enjoy the appetizer happy hour and cooked-to-order breakfast. And my dad and I would play these silly travel games.

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The thing that made me smile the most when I found this game was the fact that there still is a score sheet attached from the last game I played with my dad. Apparently I beat him, 61-55 points. Who knows if we were even playing it correctly, or if I was cheating keeping score. But seeing this score sheet makes me happy. I plan on always keeping that piece of paper, and I plan on always keeping this game. Pass the Pigs survived Purgapalooza 2014.

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Red Deer Super Spartan-Race Recap. “Have I Gone Batshit Crazy?”

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My husband and I headed up to his old stomping grounds of Red Deer, Alberta, on Friday, September 6th, for the Red Deer Super Spartan which would be held the following day. The weather report was grim—-rain, showers, clouds, unseasonably cool weather. As we drove from Lethbridge to Red Deer, we could see the clouds making faces at us, and the lovely downpour that greeted us between Airdrie and Red Deer made us a tad concerned how we would fair the next day.

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We headed out to Heritage Ranch at 8 am Saturday morning. I have ran near here during the Red Deer Half Marathon, but never through all the horse trails. Heritage Ranch was a short 10 minute drive from Dan’s parents’ place, and it is quite an odd location—-we came in through a newer neighborhood and parked on the street, walked to where the check-in would be and it was all RIGHT THERE. Imagine if you looked out your bedroom window and you saw half-naked, spandex-clad soon-to-be-muddy people, heard ridiculously loud belongs-at-a-crossfire-gym music, and witnessed mass confusion of mobs of people at package pickup….that was the Red Deer Super Spartan at 8:20 am.

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Dan and I had never been to a Spartan this early in the morning, and the area was so congested that it didn’t help the situation. We met up with his cousin Erin and us three waited in line for about 25 solid minutes. Some times it was very frustrating as you saw volunteers not being able to check people in or find their names….there was no packet pickup offered the night before so I think that was most of the issue. Once we had our bibs and packages, the rest was pretty smooth. We took turns going to the marking station to get our number put on us in marker, while the others held line for bag check….got to use the porta potty once…check out the finish line area (where they put the rope climb as basically the LAST obstacle! Ugh!) and then it was only ten minutes until our 9:30 start!

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Because of how Heritage Ranch is set up, you literally could only see the start and finish area of the course, and you had no clue what to expect on the course. When the countdown finished and we set off, we barreled through some very narrow horse trails. Some of the first obstacles we hit were the over/under/through wall, stacked bales of hay that we had to crawl over, buckets of soil we had to load and carry, and even some naturally occurring horse poop!

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My biggest achievement in this race was finally being able to complete the monkey bars. My last two Spartan races I slipped off almost immediately, and pretty much psyched myself out of being able to do it. Since Dan scurried across real quick, Erin and I stood there a moment before starting. Erin is not tons taller than myself, but her arm span is ridiculous. She started and got her momentum and went three bars at a time! I started and was just doing one at a time, but once I saw her ahead doing the three, I got some momentum myself and double-barred it to the end. I was so pumped when I jumped off it just fired me up!

The trail running was challenging, but having Erin be our leader most of the race was really helpful. She thrives during trail races and is used to running with the exposed roots, rocks, uneven surface. You couldn’t see any obstacles from inside the thick covering of trees so every time you spilled out of the woods, you were greeted with a surprise. One of the surprises was not just muddy water to walk through, but a 40 foot body of water we had to swim across, which I would describe as a cross between a creek and a small river. It was fairly calm, but the idea of not having your feet be able to touch the bottom was new! They did have life jacket provided if someone needed it. Dan opted to use a regular front stroke, while I just doggy-paddled across. Erin got a little freaked out once submerged, but then made her way over.

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Sooner than we expected, we had reached the finishing obstacle area. The mud wall to climb over was extra tough this time due to the ropes being absolutely covered in sludge. Erin and I both had to do burpees at the rope climb, so when Dan finished it successfully, he told him to finish ahead of us. He did not have to do burpees as an obstacle punishment at all this course, which is a first, since he usually fails the spear throw. Erin and I finished together with a jump over the fire, finishing with a time of 1:27:46, covering a distance of 13km!

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We really enjoyed this course, and had a fantastic time running it. The longer distance was an advantage for me over Dan, since 13km is a normal distance for me to run. This allowed there to be larger spaces and breaks in between obstacles, so I was able to get into a good stride multiple times. So what is next? Well…Erin and I are 99% sure we are registering for the Spartan Beast in Sun Peaks, BC, on September 28th. We have gotten addicted…some may say we have drank the kool-aid—and upon completion of the Beast, I would join the Trifecta Tribe. Have I gone batshit crazy yet? Maybe. But I am having the time of my life!

I May Be a Runner, but Maybe I Always Have Been a Fish Out of Water?…

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I am the first to admit—I am not a swimmer. Not even close. I can swim to save my life, but if I swim a length of a pool now, I feel like an athletic pile of crap. So triathlons are sadly not in my near future. But growing up, I was often oddly enough around water. The very first trip my family ever went on was to Perdido Key, Florida, in the Gulf Coast. I was a beach baby at a young age! (my mom also thinks my ridiculous accent comes from the fact that I learned to speak when we would be down in Alabama during this time at Grandpa and Grandma Lammers’ house. I have the weirdest Milwaukee accent ever—must have a bit of ‘Bama twang in it!)

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If there was a hotel pool on our family getaways, my dad and I loved to dork around in it. We never swam, per say (he would do some laps), but he would throw me in the air, let me ride on his back like he was a dolphin, and we would play games where I would dive for various random found objects at the bottom of the pool. My enjoyment of “pool-foolery” also may have stemmed from the fact that Wisconsin happens to have this gem we call Wisconsin Dells. This ridiculous tourist stop two hours from Milwaukee has every tourist junket you could possibly imagine, but has boasted having America’s Largest Waterpark, Noah’s Ark. Any real Wisconsin family has spent numerous weekend getaways up in the Dells, playing mini golf, going go-karting, buying crappy souvenirs, and going to the water parks.

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When our family started going to Disney World in 1991, having a hotel with a proper pool was a necessity. My mom often says in the early years of our Disney vacations she would often get ticked off at my dad and I because we would want to leave the parks rather early in the morning and go back to the pool. My mom is even less than a swimmer than me…she just sits on a chair poolside or floats in a tube! At our first WDW resort, Disney’s Polynesian Resort, we had what I thought to be (at the time) one of the coolest water areas ever!

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The next two trips to WDW brought us to Disney’s Port Orleans Resort. This resort is now formally referred to as the French Quarter section of Port Orleans. It was brand new in 1993 when we first stayed here, and I loved the Mardi Gras theme of the pool!

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In our early WDW trips, we also would frequent the Disney Waterparks. These were not like Noah’s Ark in Wisconsin Dells at all! The theming was impeccable and the slides were a bit more tame—-my dad could enjoy most of them with me! (He was a thrill seeker wuss). We use to go to only Typhoon Lagoon, but once Blizzard Brach was built, we would visit both.

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Our last family WDW trips brought us to Disney’s Yacht & Beach Resort. We first fell in love with this resort because of the pool area, Stormalong Bay. In 1995, we had gone to Beach Club for a character breakfast—-when my dad saw the “pool” he immediately knew we had to stay here. Use this term pool loosely, as Stormalong Bay is over an acre of winding waterways, complete with a sand bottom!

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This resort had the perfect pool combination for our family, because as I got older, the playing in the water started to slow. I became the poolside lounger like my mom, and we opted to stay in the parks longer than come back for pool time. We came back for pool time more so because my dad still longed for it. I now rarely play in the water like I use to, and when I am at a pool, I am usually in a lounge chair with a margarita. But, whenever I see a waterfall at a resort pool, I think of my dad, and I remember all the years I spent being a non-swimmer with him on vacation.

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And the seed was planted….

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Today is the 2013 Walt Disney World Marathon. My college roommate Kim actually ran the half marathon yesterday with her dad! They raised money for the Scleroderma Foundation, and have really outdone themselves! Their fundraising page is here: Scleroderma-Kim & Tom LaGuardia. To see everything they have done in regards to awareness for something important and personal to their family, it makes me even more excited for this coming year and raising funds for the American Heart Association and the Heart & Stroke Foundation of Alberta, NWT, and Nunavut. That being said, I figured today would be the perfect day to start explaining the importance of Walt Disney World to my family. So far, I really have only talked about the running aspect, with a mention about Disney. But they really do tie in together, I swear. It may take a few entries for it to start making sense…but without this first trip to WDW in October 1991, I wouldn’t be planning a culminating crazy race weekend down there for January 2014.

Disney World was always someplace I wanted to visit. Might seem hard to believe that a preschool-age child really would want to go someplace, and have their mind set on it, but I did. My cousins Kevin, Jennifer and Kyle had been to WDW a few times when we were little, and since they lived two blocks away and I was always over there as a kid, I clearly remember looking at photo albums with them of their trips. I wanted to go! I remember the photos of the pool of Caribbean Beach Resort…I wanted this trip! I also remember commercials during this time frame for the soon-to-open MGM Studios. My Mom tells me that the decision to take a family trip to WDW was set in stone due to the fact that 1.) Auntie Debbie and Uncle Chuck and the kids went before and loved it and 2.) My dad and her wanted us to go on a family vacation someplace other than road-tripping to Birmingham, Alabama, to Grandpa and Grandma Lammers’ house and going to Perdido Key, Florida.

I can joke with my mom now that she is the cheapskate and that my dad wanted to spend money and do things together, though he never could carry out a vacation plan himself. I can now recognize that it was this trip that forever changed my dad’s vacation attitudes. And it created a monster.

My dad wanted us to go on a trip together, and let my mom plan this one to WDW, but he was still very reluctant. You have to understand that my dad didn’t really understand the whole theme-park excitement. He didn’t understand Disney at all. my dad had an amazing childhood, getting to travel and live in Switzerland for much of his elementary and middle-school years…but he never saw “Wonderful World of Disney” or “Wonderful World of Color”. He didn’t watch the “Mickey Mouse Club”. He really was hesitant because he did not understand how an adult could enjoy WDW. He went along with this trip thinking that it would be a one-time thing, and they were doing this for me.

The best things from this first trip are the things my mom tells me now. We stayed at the Polynesian Resort on the Magic Kingdom Monorail. We had only been there half a day, and were waiting for the monorail that next morning…and my dad straight-forward asked her “when can we come back?” My dad was not a vocal person, but he was having a great time already and wasn’t afraid to admit it. He got the Disney “bug” and I am thankful for that, since he was a driving force in planning the future trips.

This trip had lots of time spent at EPCOT and at the pool at our resort. Funny thing is, I hate swimming now! I still love EPCOT, and this stayed true through all our family trips. But at my age of 7, I still loved swimming. My mom is telling me right now (she’s sitting next to me, as she is visiting me in Canada for a few weeks) my dad and I were pissing her off because we would be at a park for a few hours and then beg to go back to the pool. This partnership of my dad and I teaming up against my mom would continue every WDW trip. While i was ages 7-18, it was dad and I getting our way at WDW…what we wanted to do, see, ride, eat…so it’s funny that he was the one who didn’t want to go in the first place, but loved every second of it.

I could go on and on reminiscing about this trip. But that is not the point, nor is that what I want to do. Hopefully this helps shed the light on why Disney plays an important part in my life, and why even after my dad has passed away the significance keeps growing.

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This beautiful father/daughter photo was taken on the beach at the Polynesian Resort. Please enjoy my dad’s striking USMC t-shirt that is so large it covers his signature Speedo. Also, enjoy my ridiculous Afro and matching ridiculous bikini. So gorgeous. Love the 90s!