No Coincidences

Tag: swimming

  • Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    Six Flags Trip Report April 2024

    I posted about Ivy’s first trip to Six Flags in 2023 –

    https://nocoincidencesfaith.wordpress.com/2023/12/14/ivy-and-six-flags/

    I also posted about our fourth trip in 2025 –

    https://nocoincidencesfaith.wordpress.com/2025/08/21/six-flags-trip-report-6-13-2025/

    You’ll notice a one year gap there where two trips were never shared. Here is our trip report from April of 2024 when I took Ivy for her second time to Six Flags and Sage for her first.

    (*I have notes from this trip that I’ve used to remember the details. I noticed I sometimes flipped between past and present tense. Normally I would fix this, but I think it adds to the chaotic feeling I felt during that trip, so I left it for your reading experience).

    This trip started off with all sorts of unfortunate adventures. Firstly, Beth was supposed to come, but she hadn’t been feeling well for a few days. As we packed up and started driving, she felt so sick she said she couldn’t do it. I turned around and dropped Beth back off at home.

    Secondly, we had a car trouble adventure. That deserves a post of its own, for another time. For the purpose of this trip summary, I’ll just say we left our home at 1:00pm and our 6-hour drive turned into 10 hours when we pulled into the hotel just before 11:00pm.

    Once on the road (after dropping Beth off and getting our car fixed):

    Our first pitstop was at a gas station. We went into the bathroom. The first thing I’ve come to appreciate about road trips with toddlers is how ridiculous it is. Gone are the days of swerving in front of a pump, getting gas, sprinting to the bathroom, washing hands, sprinting back to car, on the road again. 5 minutes tops.

    On this trip with a 3-year-old and a 19-month-old, every moment trying to herd them into a gas station was complete comedy. I adopted a wide-armed, wide-stance, crouch strategy to try to usher them to our destination. Inevitably Ivy would veer off, “Candy!” Sage would veer off, “Cup!” Ivy would go another direction. It would take us a full 10 minutes to get to the bathroom.

    (*Looking back on videos and pictures and… I actually can’t believe I took two girls that small to Six Flags. It was awesome!)

    I finally got Ivy and Sage filed into the stall with me. I checked if Ivy needed to go and begged the girls not to touch anything. Before I could clean the toilet seat that was covered in pee Sage slapped both hands down on it. While I tried to manage Sage, I asked Ivy again to please not touch anything and like a fly to honey she slowly started moving her water bottle to the toilet seat.

    “No!” I yelled.

    Her water bottle gently touched the toilet seat.

    Ivy explained that she tried to tell Pria (the name of her water bottle at the time) not to touch, but Pria wanted to give it a kiss.

    Face. Palm.

    The seat was cleaned, bathroom was used, hands were thoroughly washed, cup was sanitized (it was just the bottom that touched, get over it), and we were off! Just kidding. At least 20 minutes to decide what treat they wanted, getting it, purchasing, reloading into the car. And we were off!

    Every stop was like this. This plus the van issues are why a 6 hour drive turned into 10.

    Another funny moment was when we officially crossed into California. I excitedly told the girls we made it to California (partially in disbelief that we got that far). Ivy looked out the window and said, “California looks like a lot of dirt.”

    We made it into the hotel like thieves under the cover of night. I set up the pack and play for Sage to sleep in. Ivy laid next to the pack and play and had to scrape her fingers across the material until I asked her to stop… a dozen times.

    I was organizing stuff in the room. I was in the bathroom and I hear Ivy scream at the top of her lungs (really, the top of her lungs) “NO SAGEYYYYY!!!!!!!”

    I got into bed and wrote these highlights at 12:11am before falling asleep. Onto day 2.

    Day 2. Beach. 7:15am-9:15pm.

    We woke up and Ivy, Sage, and I got ready in the dark to avoid waking Arielle and Garrick who arrived at 1 in the morning. Little did they know, I had just fallen asleep myself. Sage woke up first. I got her out of bed and started changing her and getting her ready. Ivy woke up and laid peacefully in bed. I laid next to her, gave her a kiss, and asked if she wanted breakfast. She got up. Ivy LOVES hotel breakfast.

    Things have a tendency to not be wherever they were left. I suspect it’s due to Sage’s habit of moving anything she can get her hands on to anywhere else. This made getting ready in the morning more difficult.

    Breakfast. I ask Ivy to save us a table. She refuses. I don’t try with Sage as I know she won’t leave my side. I feel like Mother Duck. Ivy keeps asking for a doughnut later. Takes me forever to realize she’s talking about bagels. Ivy dumps a cup of cranberry juice all over the bench and floor. I think it had something to do with Sage but it’s hard to decipher exactly how the cause and effect came to be.

    Sage eats like normal – a ton. I’m still searching for the 8 sausage links Ivy apparently ate because I’m struggling to believe she ate them all.

    On the Ivy eating note, she took this Six Flags trip seriously. We always tell her to eat so she can get big and strong for Six Flags. It’s like she realized she’s been slacking off in the gym and now her max out day has arrived. She was trying to make up time. She ate her entire burger on the drive to California and now this breakfast of almost a dozen sausage links along with other food and has been snacking and eating nonstop. This is a girl I haven’t seen finish a plate in a year.

    We go back to the room and wake up Arielle and Garrick. Ivy is excited to see them. Sage is so shy. She won’t leave my side. We go to the beach.

    Beach – Ivy refuses to go near the water, Sage refuses to leave my side for fear that Garrick or Arielle will scoop her up and she’ll never see me again. We build sandcastles.

    Oh, the first time the water hit Sage’s feet she had the craziest reaction. It was like her whole body shut down. Her legs buckled and she started to trust fall. It was the craziest thing. I caught her.

    Garrick and Arielle went to get food. The girls and I hung out, but it was cold, and Ivy and Sage were hungry and cold and tired and I only had 2 arms. This led to an epic meltdown. We were moments away from an equally epic, comfortable cozy nap with both girls in my lap laying in a tube when it all fell apart.

    It all started to settle down when I made Ivy a sandwich. Ivy threw Sage’s sandwich in the sand. I gave Sage Ivy’s sandwich. Meltdown continued. Packed up and left. Went to the hotel and got in the hot tub and pool. Sage loved splashing her feet in the hot tub. Everything was awesome until Ivy pushed Sage to the ground.

    We went back to the room and had a great shower that audibled into a bath because a shower for 3 wasn’t working. Bath went surprisingly well despite Sage getting the bar of soap, playing with it, then rubbing her eyes.

    We got out of the tub. Meltdowns ensued. Not uncommon when girls are tired and cold. Add hungry and it’s all over. Garrick and Arielle’s friend Jacob who was also staying in the room is locked out and knocking. Sage, Ivy, and I are naked and I’m chasing them trying to do lotion and clothes. They’re both screaming. I get them both into bottoms and let Jacob in. He seems like he doesn’t want to be there. I can’t blame him.

    Ivy, Sage, and I go to dinner at Denny’s because it’s across the street and convenience tops any other consideration. It’s approaching 6 o’clock and Sage hasn’t napped. She will expire at any moment. Our time is short.

    (*This is where my notes from back during the actual trip end. The rest I will have to go off memory. Never fear, we have lots of pictures to fill in the gaps. But this will be more of a summary).

    What I remember about Denny’s was Ivy and Sage getting their food a full 15 minutes before me. This led to them being long done with their food by the time I started trying to eat. I let Ivy run amock around the basically empty restaurant with no guilt. Hopefully they learned a valuable lesson about serving two toddlers food 15 minutes before the single adult.

    The pictures below indicate I had plenty of time to take pictures before my food came.

    This picture was taken of Sage before I looked away for 4 seconds and turned back to ketchup being on her face, arms, chair, and table.

    Needless to say (just look at Ivy’s face in above picture) we went back to the hotel and crashed. Well, sometime around 9:15pm.

    (*EDIT 4/22/2026 – I found old notes from this trip, so I’m going to insert them here, taking us to Six Flags):

    The girls are amazing at Denny’s. Ivy orders mac n cheese. I make the mistake of ordering Sage chicken strips because it quickly becomes obvious she wants mac n cheese. You can see how that’s a problem. Luckily she loved the hashbrown side and Ivy was being so great and shared her mac n cheese with Sage. We had to get a third kids menu with crayon because Ivy said hers was for me. My food comes 5 minutes after Sage and Ivy’s. This is a problem because Ivy is done eating by the time my food arrives and is still hot. Ivy has a lot of time to kill. She starts roaming Denny’s – moving chairs, trashcans, table top arrangements. I let her because Denny’s started this chain of events with an unintelligent order of food deliver. I finally get to look down at my food and focus on it for 10 seconds, take a bite, enjoy it. I look up. In those ten seconds Sage has covered both her hands, arms, face, table, and is working on the arms of her booster seat with ketchup. Maybe it was 15 seconds. Sorry Denny’s. 

    We pay the check and leave. Usually I try to tidy up a little before leaving a restaurant in complete shambles. Our server says not to worry about it and I decide in this case to take her advice. We leave which usually entails vice gripping Sage’s hand so she doesn’t run in the street. Ivy stays right by my side because she’s a good girl. 

    Before going to the hotel we stop at the van to get some stuff. I’m leaning in pulling stuff out and keeping Sage between my legs so she doesn’t run into the street. I turn around after 30 seconds and Ivy is gone. I freak out. I run around the van and she’s on the other side. I grab her and bring her over to Sage. I kneel down and tell her I was worried because I didn’t know where she was and we were near the street and that she can’t do that when we’re by the street. She looks back at me and has a serious look on her face and is (actually) listening. She says “Sorry Daddy” and holds my pocket (my hands are full) the whole way back to the hotel without me having to ask.  

    We get back to the hotel. I expect Sage to go straight to bed but it’s Ivy that seems tired and lies in a bed and watches a show. Sage meanwhile sprints back and forth in the room for 40 minutes straight. She only stops to try to steal Ivy’s water bottle, or whatever else will infuriate Ivy. I get everything ready for Six Flags next day while Sage sprints a marathon and eats Teddy Grahams while Ivy relaxes.  

    I have to leave the room multiple times for water, something in the car, something else in the car. I always bring Sage because I’ve learned leaving the two girls alone always results in Sage crying when I get back. The third time I approach the door I hear Ivy yelling. Oh no. I open the door quickly. From the bed she’s saying “Hey Dad” at the top of her lungs because she wants to ask me if she can have some M&Ms. And here I was panicking. 

    Sage finally has her meltdown because I make her come back in the room. Sage gets changed and put in bed. She goes from an hour straight of running around to lying right down – in a room with multiple TVs and lights on – and goes to sleep. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow. I know she’s tired because after I turn off the lights Ivy proceeds to get my reading light and try to flash it in Sage’s eyes. When I take it and put away I turn back around to Ivy in the pack n play on top of Sage. I yank Ivy out and Sage sleeps like nothing happened.  

    Long frustrated explanation of why I hated the water she got from Denny’s which turned into the only water she’d use for the night. She stares at me with intense focus. When I set aside that cursed water bottle and give her the water bottle she always has in bed because it doesn’t leak she proceeds to show me a dozen times how it doesn’t leak. 15 minutes after quietly lying peacefully next to me, she abruptly sits up and says “Daddy, it leaks” and proceeds to try multiple demonstrations showing it leaks. It doesn’t leak but I tell her fine we’ll put it away and take it from her. She says no she wants it and I say fine it doesn’t leak anyway and give it back to her. She lies back down with her water bottle.  

    Second straight day I was unable to quietly meditate for 10 minutes until they were both asleep. That’s 10 minutes. Think about that. Not one uninterrupted 10 minute segment in 48 hours. It’s nonstop. The irony is I need the meditation to refill my battery of patience but I can’t get that amount of time to even refill.  

    Ivy just wants to be by me. I make a comment about how maybe it’s just time to turn off all the lights and go to bed and Ivy says, “Yeah let’s go to bed I sleep with you.” Oh. She’s really tired. And oh, she just wants to be with me.  

    I know in day two I highlighted a lot of the lowlights. The meltdowns, tears, frustrations, lost tempers, screaming, messes, and challenges are all intermixed with I love yous and I’m so happy to be here with you and I’m so happy for this time we have together. There was so much of that too. But this is the real report. All the good, bad, and ugly of it. 

    All the frustrations but then I type this with Ivy cuddled up to my arm and Sage dead asleep to our left. I love these little girls so much it’s almost unfathomable.  

    I went back and added the sweet moments to balance out the frustrating ones. (*END OF INSERTED NOTES)

    The next day was the whole reason we were there. Six Flags! I don’t have any notes from the day. But I know it was filled with a million fun moments, funny comments from Ivy and Sage, and lots of laughs.

    We love Six Flags.

    Mom wasn’t there, so, uh, this happened 🙂

    They loved it.

    And it ended like this:

    What a trip.

  • Six Flags Trip Report 6/13/2025

    Six Flags Trip Report 6/13/2025

    Ivy just had her fourth Six Flags trip and Sage her third. If we’re keeping score, that’s four trips in four years (of age) for Ivy and three trips in two years for Sage. We’re on track.

    To some people Six Flags is just a theme park. To a Quackenbush Six Flags is ground zero for formative experiences. Ground zero is an adequate analogy. Only the strong survive these trips.

    One interesting dynamic that developed this trip was Sage voicing her opinion. Last time we went to Six Flags, Sage was still young enough that she just went with the flow and/or whatever Ivy wanted to do. This was the first trip where I had to balance the demands of a toddler and a four-year-old preteen. But we’ll get to that.

    If you read 2023’s trip report you know how early we usually leave for these trips. This time we drove straight to the beach on Friday and went to the park early on Saturday.

    Beth’s sister Eve came to Arizona from Utah and joined us on the trip to California. Her coming along was a lot of help. For once Beth and I weren’t outnumbered.

    Beth and Eve didn’t want to go to the beach, so they dropped us off on Friday and went and did I don’t know what with Wren.

    Sage is now at the age where she has a pure love and infatuation with the beach, particularly with sand. She ate a borderline unsafe amount of sand.

    The girls both came out of their shells on this beach trip. They even went in the water! Ivy was fully submerged, not completely by choice. She and Sage were playing on the edge of the water, and I guess she fell in. She was really upset until I told her how awesome she was and then she brightened up.

    We played a lot of Spikeball and swam in the ocean. Good beach trip.

    That night baby Wren and baby Fulton got to meet for the first time at our favorite California trip Mexican restaurant, Don Cucos.

    But the next day was Six Flags!

    One of the parts of these California trips that is most memorable to Ivy is the hotel breakfast. Ivy LOVES the hotel breakfast. If you ask her about it, she’ll tell you they have great juice (we don’t drink juice at home).

    We had breakfast and since we were already in town and not driving straight from Arizona to Six Flags, we were able to get to the gates ahead of the 10:30am opening. It was the first time we’d ever used the “VIP entrance” feature of our tickets. We got through the gates and got to line up at a rope ahead of general admission. We were headed towards rides at 10:22am. This gave us a big head start on any crowds. We were able to ride 10 rides in our first 30 minutes inside the park.

    The plan was to go ~3 adult rides and then ~3 kid rides but since there were no lines, we got carried away with the power.

    In the meantime, the kids got to meet Flash and see the Batmobile.

    Sage was skeptical of Flash

    Ivy hit a milestone since our last trip. She was now 42” in height, opening up a bunch of new rides for her. The first new ride Ivy got to try is called Teen Titans Turbo Spin.

    I was a little nervous about this first of 42” rides. Turbo Spin is a carnival style ride where you stand against a wall and spin at a high speed. Ivy loved it.

    We were very disappointed that a ride called Battle for Metropolis was closed. That was another that Ivy would have been able to ride. It’s one of those rides where you slowly travel around in a cart with a fake laser zapper shooting bad guys.

    There was another ride we had never before worked into the rotation. It was called Jet Stream, and it had no height requirement. It was a water ride that the entire family got to ride. Ivy, Sage, and all the little ones enjoyed it.

    The final new ride that was an addition for Ivy was Roaring Rapids:

    This was by far the longest line we waited in. It was so long Ivy almost boycotted. When we were very near to getting on the ride, she started loudly casting her vote for leaving.

    While Ivy waited in line at Roaring Rapids, the other young kids – Sage, her cousin Kaia, and her cousin Fulton – all went to Bugs Bunny World.

    We finally got on Roaring Rapids. Ivy’s excitement quickly turned into a freak out when the first splash hit her. Roaring Rapids can have that effect on you. She freaked out for most of it and continued to freak out as we got off. She was mad that she was wet. I reminded her how hot it was outside and pointed to some people sitting in the shade fanning each other. I asked her if she thought she was more comfortable and cool and wet than those people. Her mood quickly turned as she was excited to admit she felt cool and wet.

    Finally we got to Bugs Bunny World. I took Ivy on a couple of her favorites – the ball house, the School Bus, and Taz’s Trucking Co – before we found Sage and her cousin Kaia.

    We spent a couple hours riding everything the girls wanted to ride. As I mentioned, with Sage developing a strong opinion on what ride she wanted, there was a lot of deal-making and compromising. Kaia was only with us a couple rides so after that future ride decisions became a sister battle.

    Six Flags is where you grow. When it was just Ivy, Sage, and I, we went and rode a favorite, just for the novelty of it: the Tweedy Bird Cages (See Ivy’s trip in 2023 for picture proof of Ivy getting Grandpa into a bird cage). I sent Ivy and Sage in to ride together. At first they were going to ride in separate cages. But as they approached and the fear set in, they joined their courage together and rode in one cage. They both came off so happy.

    Next to the bird cages was a ride called Road Runner Express. We hadn’t tried that one before. I knew it was a kid roller coaster, potentially on the “extreme” side (for Ivy and Sage). We went up to the nonexistent line. This was a ride I would have to sit with Sage on, leaving Ivy alone. The teenage ride operator seemed sympathetic to this issue so he said if the three of us could fit in one cart, we could ride together. I got Sage in, I climbed in, but when I tried to get Ivy to join us, she refused. She didn’t want to ride. The ride operator said she couldn’t stand in the ride area, so she had to leave the platform, go through the gate, and go down the stairs to watch. I watched anxiously as Ivy left the gate. My heart broke. She was resigned. She was trying not to seem upset, but she was disappointed.

    Is this how it is being a parent?

    Seeing the subtle growth, and sadness, and disappointment and having to watch and feeling your heart break for your sweet daughter?

    I dread more of these moments as my kids grow. I guess it’s life.

    Sage and I rode the ride. Sage was terrified, but she did it. We got off and found Ivy sitting on the bench. She looked so big. I hardly recognized her, sitting by herself, I assume thinking about how Sage and I just rode the roller coaster and she didn’t. I asked if she wanted to ride the ride and she said no. We moved on.

    We went to the merry go round.

    Next to the merry go round was a ride called Speedy Gonzales Hot Rod Racers:

    Ivy enjoyed this ride last time we were at Six Flags, despite it being on the extreme side for her.

    This would be another ride that I HAD to ride with Sage, but Ivy was tall enough to ride alone. I explained this to Ivy as best as I could. It would be another situation like the last roller coaster that Ivy didn’t want to ride alone. As Sage and I got in our seats, Ivy started to panic. She didn’t want to be alone. I calmly explained to her that I had to be with Sage because she was too little but that Ivy was my big girl and she could ride behind us, but she’d have to be alone.

    I thought she was going to leave again.

    I was prepared to collapse into a puddle of sad dad, watching my daughter be disappointed yet again.

    But then I saw a shift in Ivy’s eyes. From my perspective, I think she remembered what just happened at that last ride, and she didn’t want it to happen again. “Defiantly” seems like a dramatic word to describe how she approached her roller coaster cart, but I can’t find a more adequate word. She got into her seat and got buckled in. I looked behind us to watch her.

    I was proud.

    Ivy rode that roller coaster by herself. When it stopped, the ride operator gave the group an option to go a second time. I looked back at Ivy. She was grinning from ear to ear yelling, “Again! Again!”

    After our second time around, we got off the ride and Ivy wanted to ride again. Sage wanted to go back to the merry go round. I told Ivy we could come back to ride again after the merry go round. The merry go round was right by Speedy Gonzales. We got in line for the merry go round and Ivy looked longingly over at Speedy Gonzales.

    Ivy looked at Speedy Gonzales, and back at me, and back at Speedy Gonzales.

    Then she did something completely unexpected. Ivy proposed that she go to Speedy Gonzales while Sage and I rode the merry go round. I told her that would be okay. I watched as she walked towards Speedy Gonzales. At the ramp up, I saw her confidence waver. She stopped. She never looked back at me, but she stopped. Then she ran up the ramp. I watched her stand in line and wait for her turn.

    It may seem like a small thing to some. But Ivy is very tentative, very cautious, she usually won’t go out of our sight. There she was, waiting in line to ride a roller coaster by herself.

    This made me think about something. Bad things happen. Ivy not riding that first roller coaster while Sage and I went made me so sad to watch. If I could have changed it, I probably would have. If I could have inserted the courage into Ivy’s little soul by force of will, I don’t think I could have resisted. But then Ivy wouldn’t have learned and grew. She grew in that moment of disappointment.

    God sees bad things happen and He doesn’t change it. If He did, we couldn’t grow. If He changed things, He would be defeating the purpose of us coming to earth. You go to Six Flags to be brave, to be disappointed, and to scream your heart out: The same reason we came to earth.

    If I changed what happened at that first roller coaster then Ivy wouldn’t have learned something important about herself, about being brave, about what she is capable of.

    Anyways, back to Six Flags. We finished the night, shutting the park down at 9:00pm, on Crazanity. My dad potentially got hit by a bat and we talked to security and medical staff to make sure all was well. No big deal.

    I think the next day was Father’s Day.

    We had lunch at a pier before heading back to Arizona while my family went to the beach.

    Six Flags and beach June 2025 trip: 10/10.

  • Misogi

    Misogi

    On 11/2/24 I learned an Olympic Triathlon includes a .93 mile swim, 25 mile cycle, and 6.2 mile run. I also learned an Ironman includes a swim of 2.4 miles, cycle of 112 miles, and run of 26 miles.

    I learned this at the tail end of completing roughly 2x an Olympic Triathlon or roughly ½ an Ironman. At no point, until I was near the end of this challenge, did I know that’s what I was doing.

    Here is the story.

    The word Misogi is a Japanese word that means “water cleansing.”

    Misogi has come to represent a challenge that pushes your limits to help expand what you believe is possible.

    There are two requirements to a Misogi challenge:

    1 – There must be no risk of death.

    2 – There must be at least a 50% chance of failure.

    I heard about the concept of a Misogi a few months ago. I immediately started putting together my list of possible Misogi challenges.

    Another important aspect of a Misogi challenge is that it should be unexpected. The idea is to be physically and mentally prepared at all times.

    I discussed it with my brother when I first heard of the idea. He had heard of it already. I sent him my list of ideas.

    Flash forward a few months and Misogi couldn’t be farther from my mind.

    Beth had an unknown appointment on our family calendar labeled “Beth Plans.” Mysterious. I assumed it was a shopping appointment or something. My second hint was my work’s on-call schedule was being put together and I asked Beth about “Beth Plans.” She let me know I would not have cell service all of Saturday.

    I didn’t have much time to think about this though, because life is busy.

    Friday night I went to sleep not knowing what was happening the next day.

    I woke up to a message from Beth:

    “Pack a bag with:

    • Swimsuit and goggles and towel
    • Running clothes and good socks (including your basketball tights)

    Wear:

    • Basketball tights and basketball shorts
    • Athletic top
    • Athletic jacket
    • Your best shoes for running
    • Good socks”

    30 minutes later I opened our front door to my mom and dad, brothers Garrick and Easton, and soon-to-be sister-in-law Arielle.

    It wasn’t until then that I noticed the last line of Beth’s text:

    “Stretch like you would for basketball.”

    I got a little stretching in before I was off to I didn’t know what. I received another hint from the bikes on the back of my parents’ car. It was during the drive that I learned we were doing a Misogi.

    We drove to P+R Power Road. My dad, Garrick, Easton, and I mounted our bikes and started for the mountains to Butcher Jones Recreation Area:

    We biked 16.55 miles in 1 hour and 23 minutes.

    There were stretches during this 16.55 miles that I thought, “This is it? Surely Garrick planned something harder than this.” Careful what you wish for.

    I spent much of that 16 miles breathing, meditating, and praying in gratitude for a family that not only let me do crazy things but planned crazy things for me to do.

    We got to Saguaro Lake. I’d never been there. It was a beautiful lake.

    I was told we were swimming. Before I changed into my swimsuit I emphasized that I wasn’t sure I could swim at all. But I’d try. Our trail car had gone ahead and we took a kayak into the water to make sure we didn’t drown.

    As we stepped into the water, it was freezing. Remember this was November. Garrick said it was the perfect temperature for a long-distance swim. He almost convinced me. We started swimming. We swam along the side of the lake. We swam out to the edge and Garrick said we could swim back. I realized we didn’t have a destination, just a distance to accomplish.

    We swam back toward shore and started swimming back out again. On the way back out to the edge I asked Garrick, for the first time in any of this, how long we were swimming. He said 1 mile. Oh, great, we could do that no problem. How far had we swum? I asked. I was thinking we’d already done half a mile and I could easily do what I’d done so far one more time. 0.2 miles was the response. What?!

    We started swimming out around the edge. We lost Easton. He stopped along the side of the hill next to the water. The rest of us went out into open water. Multiple parts of my body were starting to cramp. We got to a rocky shore around the edge and all of us started to shiver uncontrollably.

    In hopes that movement would warm us up, we dove out into the water again. I realized movement was not helping. I was completely numb. We’d done roughly half a mile and I was shaking uncontrollably. Garrick finally admitted it was cold. We had swam .5 miles in 40 minutes.

    We got back to the rocky side shore, apparently less than .2 miles from starting shore, and were ferried back one at a time as my groin/hamstring/leg/neck cramped repeatedly. My dad’s feet were white/blue. Garrick was practically convulsing with shivers.

    When I got taken to shore I went and sat on a park bench in the sun to warm up. I found myself staring in fascination at ants. I think my brain was low on oxygen or something. I felt funny.

    We got back to the car and I was told the joke made earlier – that we were biking back – wasn’t a joke. I said I seriously didn’t think I could do that. Most of the final mile or two of that 16.55 miles to Saguaro Lake was straight downhill. So, being the brilliant person I am, I realized the first two miles out of here would be straight uphill.

    For the second time that day, after saying I didn’t think it was possible, I mounted my bike and tried.

    Easton decided not to join us on this stretch of the bike ride.

    Those couple miles uphill were moderately strenuous. But I realized it was a relatively moderate incline. From there it was an easy 2-mile coast to our next checkpoint.

    I was feeling great. Bring on the world.

    We did a quick water/nutrient refill. Easton, having bailed on the last bike ride, was having major regrets so he joined back up for the next stretch.

    We discussed our options. The plan was to take a more scenic route back to our original starting point at P+R Power Road instead of going the way we had come. Bring it on. Little did we know.

    Usery Mountain Pass. It must have been an 80-degree incline

    For those who don’t understand math, that’s a joke. Point is it was steep. It was straight uphill. We didn’t know that until we kept going… and going… and going… and going… all uphill.

    At one point we finally took a break. Legs were about to give out. Chests were rupturing with exploding lungs. Hearts were failing.

    “It’s gotta be downhill at the end of this last incline, at that curve up ahead.”

    Yeah… sure, Garrick. Just like that water at Saguaro Lake wasn’t cold. In our hearts, we knew better. We’d all thought the last dozen curves up ahead would lead to our desired downhill. They all continued to go upward.

    That was 4 miles straight uphill. We took two breaks. It was brutal.

    It was so strange coming out of the trail back into society. It’s not like we travelled out into a wilderness but… I guess we kind of did. We went from this mountain pass to starting to see a smattering of houses, to suddenly going over a highway overpass. I wondered what we looked like to civilized folk. Disheveled, shirtless, covered in lake and other gunk. We were suddenly thrust back onto paved roads with real bike paths.

    The good thing about going up is you then get to go down. Though, those four miles were so long and arduous I did start to question the laws of physics. Eventually, we did come to a peak. The way down was much more enjoyable.

    We got back to our car where my mom and Arielle were waiting.

    Remember, I never knew what was coming next. Like biking straight uphill, with the thought of a peak and downward slope to come, I approached every checkpoint wondering if this was the end, or at least close to it.

    I cautiously monitored reactions, trying to get a read on the situation. Garrick was constantly making jokes about what was next. It wasn’t until the very end of the Misogi Challenge that I realized Garrick was never joking. His comments just seemed so ludicrous and impossible that I assumed they were jokes.

    As we sat around the car, me gauging the situation, Garrick said we had 20 miles to go on the bike.

    “Not going to happen.” My reply.

    But, my body hadn’t given up yet. I asked if there were any 4-mile uphill stretches to contend with. I was assured it was level ground to our next stop.

    Here’s the thing, when you haven’t been on a bike for more than a 30-minute stretch in at least 5 years, miles 30-50 are pretty hard, no matter the terrain or steepness.

    My dad decided to take a break. Seemed like his bike was vastly underperforming to the other three so it was a smart decision. Garrick, Easton, and I mounted our bikes and started off.

    We rode 10 miles to a Dunkin Doughnuts. As we approached the Dunkin my hamstrings started to cramp so bad that I had to stretch full length any chance I got to coast on my bike, which wasn’t often. The thing with level terrain is you’re peddling almost nonstop.

    At Dunkin I chugged as much water as I could. I felt like I drank too much water and might throw up. I told everyone I would try the last 10 miles but warned our trail car to be ready to come pick me up. The water chugging apparently saved my cramping for another 10 miles. I only had to stop once and stretch my legs. After that, I was able to make it.

    Proof of Dunkin Stop

    We rode our bikes to a parking lot at a park near Rio Salado Pathway. As we approached the car, I asked Garrick how many miles we had done total on our bikes. 49.25. That’s no good. So we rode around the parking lot 3 times to hit an even 50 miles on the bike.

    Tally so far:

    50 miles on bike.

    ½ mile freezing swim.

    I could barely walk.

    What now?

    Garrick asked me the most continuous miles I had ever run. I said probably 2 miles. Everyone laughed.

    A 13-mile run was planned.

    Again I thought he was joking. How many times during this adventure had I said, “Not going to happen”?

    Yet again, I decided I’d try. This was the point of a Misogi after all.

    My mom and Arielle rode bikes along with us on the trail as we started jogging. “Jogging” may be a generous term. I was putting one foot in front of the other, I’ll say that.

    I did roughly 0.75-1 mile jog, 0.25 mile walk for 11 miles. It was going to be 10 miles but somehow we missed our turn on the way back and ended up going half a mile further than intended. All I can say is my mind wasn’t functioning at full capacity.

    By the end, jogging was nearly impossible for my body. I won’t say impossible. But a lot of things were starting to give out.

    We coordinated dinner and met Beth at a Mexican restaurant. When we arrived Sage was screaming but happy to see me. I almost turned down holding her, afraid I would fall with her in my arms. For the last time that day, I did something I wasn’t sure I could do. I held Sage and stayed standing, one step in front of the other, to go get a table reserved.

    We started our journey at around 9:30am and walked off Rio Salado Trail around 7:30pm.

    What I learned:

    As with any Misogi, I learned the primary lesson: we can do much more than we think we’re capable of. Our bodies are capable of amazing things.

    Another thing I learned was how much a break could do for the body. When we were on that uphill climb on Usery Mountain Pass, I was sure I would need to start walking my bike. My legs felt like they were completely done. I wasn’t sure I could walk my bike, but I “knew” I couldn’t ride it. We took a 2-minute break and I felt like a new man. It encouraged me to know that, no matter how much it seemed like my body was giving out, all it really needed was a short reprieve to be able to pick right back up.

    The same thing happened in those last ten miles of biking. When my hamstrings were both cramping, all I needed was 5 bottles of water and a 5-minute break and my body was able to keep going. When I thought I would die jogging, I would start walking, and I could jog again within a couple minutes.

    The whole day was more a mental battle than a physical battle. If I’d known what was in store, I may have given up much earlier in the day. I always thought, “Maybe this is it,” which kept me putting one foot in front of the other.

    There are already whispers of plans for next year’s Misogi Challenge.

    What should we do next?