I have to pick one of these to hang on the wall. I don't know how I am going to decide. (feel free to cast your vote) These are Isla's slightly belated 1-year-old photos by our good friend and awesome photographer Jess. She is amazing. (www.inbleu.com).
It's true, Aaron and I come from VERY different backgrounds. When we started dating few people thought this would ever work out. Aaron was a free spirit - skater, studying fashion design/marketing, fresh back from working in New York, cashed his checks and lived until the cash in his pocket ran out, and the ultimate ski bum. I, on the other hand, was the uptight scholarly girl with savings and investment accounts at age 20, wrangler-wearing "redneck" cowgirl, avid hunter with animal heads lining my college apartment room walls, and entirely too dedicated to my job and education.
But there is something we have always had in common... fishing. (Okay, there are a few more, but we will just consider fishing right now for dramatics and in order to tie into the bulk of this post.) Aaron used to love fly fishing ANY river with his dad, and my family always made ANY type of fishing a priority. Most family vacations were usually planned around some sort of fishing excursion.
These are some of our favorite memories as children. And we want the same for Isla. Plus, let's face it, many activities are limited with a 1-year-old. So this year we tried to do as much fishing as we could. We don't get many pictures of fly fishing because I am not allowed to carry a camera since I fall into the river frequently, and Aaron is carrying a baby on his back while flyfishing so his hands are usually full. But on occasion, we are able to convince my parents into taking us out on the lake in their boat. It's seriously our little piece of heaven. Ahhhhhhh.
The first time out we caught NOTHING. Not even a BITE. So the next time we went out we didn't have many expectations. But we did come prepared this time with a bag full of magazines, gourmet food, and a great music lineup. And of course it was because of this that we couldn't STOP catching the fish. Literally, all day long there was at least one fish on at any time. Up to all four of us having fish on the line at one point. It was crazy. I think the total count ended up being over 60 fish caught that day.
We are so fortunate that my parents are willing to share their boat with us. I am grateful for the relationship we have with my parents, which is more like we are all best friends rather than parents/children. We always have such a great time, fishing or whatever adventure we happen to be up to.
The sweet thing about Aaron is he still gets excited, no matter how big or small the fish is.
Most of the time our fishing day turns into some sort of competition. The Bishops are all about competition. Usually it's girls against boys. Judging by our smiles, the girls are winning.
Papa is teaching Isla how to fish. She absolutely loves him and wants to do everything he does.
Upon having a conversation with our neighbors last week that started with "um, you guys like to exercise a lot, huh?" We decided that we have 2 options. Either (A) stop our 11:00 pm basement interval sessions with me on the treadmill and Aaron on the road bike trainer, TV turned up as loud as the volume will go (do you know how LOUD a treadmill and trainer can be in an echoing half-finished basement?), all with the windows wide open for air flow or (B) move to a home in a more remote location where this kind of behavior can't be heard by the neighbors. Ooops. I prefer Option B. Just so ya know. Aaaaaanyway... Two weeks ago Aaron and I were eating dinner (I think it was a Thursday night) when we realized that we had BOTH signed up for races the same day, the same time. Not just any ordinary races either. Aaron had his greatly anticipated Heber Century bike race and I had the long-coming Dirty Dash. So we convinced Grandpa to babysit (which really didn't take ALL that much convincing) and parted ways. I was able to make the start AND finish line of Aaron's race. Because obviously I run faster than he can bike. (ignore the glaring fact of bike race=107 miles, dirty dash=6.4 miles). A little background info, the Dirty Dash is a 10k race traversing mountain trails covered in deep mud. Oh, and add in some obstacle courses and a massive mud covered slip and slide. Teams of five could help each other along. It was by far the most fun time running I think I have had yet. These ended up being the last races of the season for us - and what a great way to end. Aaron killed the bike race and mom and I... well the Dirty Dash was more of a race to see who could get muddiest, moreso than finish time. So I would say we were successful as well.
This is at the finish line with our good friend Travis. Travis is his race/riding buddy.
Here is our team pre-race waiting for our start time. Nice and clean. I think there were around 4,000 racers.
Coming up to the finish line. You had to go through this massive mud pit to cross the finish.
Washing off via fire hose.
I also competed in my first triathlon this fall. I used to swim competitively when I was young (I blame my unusually wide shoulders on being a well-versed butterflier at age 5), but I haven't swam since college. That was over 5 years ago. Man I seem OLD. But how hard could it be right? The swimming portion was just in the pool. One of my really good friends did it with me. Even though we didn't find out we were both doing it until a party the night before. I was just doing it for fun, as a goal I guess to prove to myself. But when we left directly after I finished (baby was SOOOO sick, and it was horrible weather) I got a call from Ari saying I placed! Holy Cow!
(I am the one in the 3rd lane up... next to the guy in the red swim cap.)