​Campaigning is such a unique beast. Having never been involved in a campaign, I feel like I am learning a whole new language. There are things like walk lists, knocking strategies, and yard signs.
 
All of these items get broken down even further into walk list precincts, knocking by specific voter turn out, and yard sign sizes.
 
Then broken down even further, and further, and further.
 
I had no idea how complicated it all is and how much time some candidates put into a campaign. I have a huge amount of respect for candidates who run a solid campaign and do the work.
 
Today, we hung some of our 4 x 8 signs on busy streets and the interstate. It was blazing hot with a breeze that felt very similar to a blow dryer on my face.
 
I climbed a barbed wire fence in flip-flops, punctured my finger, and became an expert at cutting wire.
 
Because of this experience today, I now know how to put up huge signs. Two days ago that seemed so intimidating, but it’s actually pretty easy.
 
I also know how to sort a walk list and knock on a door. I’ve learned things like never touch a mailbox and “no soliciting” includes me.
 
I’ve knocked on the doors of other mayoral candidates to introduce myself. I’ve knocked on the doors of old friends and colleagues. I’ve knocked on doors of people who knew my parents, my husband, or Dan’s family. With each knock I am reminded of who I will serve and why. Now I understand why knocking is so important and why candidates seem to love it.
 
It’s been rewarding to see people supportive, kind, and even excited about my candidacy. I feel very loved and supported.
 
I would have never been able to learn or do any of this without my amazing campaign team. I don’t even think Google would have been able to come close to advising me and helping me through some of the challenges and learning curves. It’s been a great reminder that all beasts can be tamed as long as there is persistence, the right reason, and the right team. 

As a health care provider in the Army, I have spent a large part of my career in Exam Room 1. My mission has been to ensure our soldiers are ready to deploy, and then take care of them when they return home. We have over 1600 soldiers in the WYARNG and about 6-8 providers who take care of every each soldier each year.
 
Exam Room 1 room is solid, it’s always there for me, and I always know what to expect from it. It comforts me when I don’t remember acronyms and reminds me that I’m there for my mission: to take care of our soldiers.
 
I love the white cylinder walls and that old poster of the fish in Wyoming hanging so awkwardly next to the anatomy of an ear. I love the tube of dried up KY jelly that rests innocently on the purple gloves. I leave it there just to make everyone giggle.  
 
But most of all, I love this time with our soldiers. I love hearing their stories and helping them to connect with the right resource when needed.
 
Our soldiers are brave, selfless, and hard working. They are humble. They are my heroes. I signed up to join the Army right after 9/11. I have only known a wartime military. Serving those who defend my freedom is one of the greatest joys of my life. 
 
More than seven years ago, SGT Byrd put artificial flowers on the desk for me in Exam Room 1. Although a little dusty, they’re still there.
 
And so is that line of soldiers outside of Exam Room 1.

​Nothing beats a 5 am mountain bike ride at Curt Cowdy. The sky is blindingly blue, the grass fresh, and the water flowing high.
 
Even the digger I took was worth it just to be outside, unplugged, and in the middle of nature.
 
I think so many of us are tethered to our phones, our computers, and Facebook that we forget what reality is.
 
In fact, I was in a meeting with some City folks and we were discussing marketing for the parking utilization study underway and many of them felt that Facebook was the number one way to market or communicate in Cheyenne.
 
That made me wonder, is it? What about all of our friends who don’t do social media? We have an entire older generation who don’t use computers at all, let alone smart phones or FB. We have those who have chosen to not participate. And then we have this newer generation of young 20’s who feel like FB is for us “older” people and they do think like “tweet” or “snap chat” instead.
 
While FB may be a good marketing tool for a certain demographic, there are still many others out there who rely on word of mouth, the paper, radio, or mail to get information and contribute input.
 
I think about times in my life when I have been happiest. Other than the obvious birth of my children, those times involve things like my deployments to the Dominican Republic and Panama, rafting the Grand Canyon, and climbing the Grand Teton. The common factor: I was unplugged.
 
Being unplugged allowed me to be more engaged and connected with others, my surroundings, and nature. Can’t we just do that day to day, you ask?  Some can, but with technology so integrated in our lives, it’s difficult. For me, it’s a challenge to shut it off.

The best I can do is delete FB from my phone and try really hard to only check it once a day. I like putting my phone and computer away when I get home so I can be more engaged with my family. I can leave it in the car or at home and intentionally unplug.
 
I could also tap out and go back to a flip phone, which I am not even kidding when I say I have considered it!
 
Or, I can go outside without it. Walking, running, and mountain biking all rescue me from my technology habit. They also keep me grounded and help me remember what’s important in life.
 
They help me to remember that random polls, videos, likes, and comments are not reality. Perhaps it is a good representative sample. Perhaps not.
 
They help me to remember that even though real people are on Facebook, Facebook is not reality.
 
That good night kiss is reality. A little honey cuddled on your lap is reality. A hot cup of coffee and looking someone in the eye is reality. Abrasions, bruises, and picking cactus out of your knee…now that’s reality.

From the bleachers of Riske Field, a thousand proud friends and families members watched the graduates of Central High School flood the field in a sea of red.
 
With white honor cords, red gowns, and a blazing sun: it was almost blinding.
 
At East High in 1992, Tagg Lain was my creative writing teacher. Today, he was the “Honored Teacher” and gave a powerful speech to the graduates and audience.
 
He spoke about how this class had healed the broken spirit of Central. That in the four years they were there, they had won every cheering contest at every pep rally, they had pulled together, and they had pride. That because of them, Central had their swagger back.
 
They did seem to have something special, or at least my son’s circle of track friends. They had large group lunches every week, a progressive dinner for prom, exceled at track, and graduated with honors.
 
They were a team. They lifted each other up, were kind, compassionate, and hard working. They had camaraderie.
 
He challenged them to do the same thing with the nation: heal America, help it find its swagger.
 
No doubt, they can do it. We all can.
 
Maya Angelou said, “people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
 
Just think of what our world would be like if we were all kind to each other, always. What if our biggest concern was how we made others feel? What if we lifted each other up and were encouraging?
 
What if decisions were made with compassion and understanding? What if disagreements left you feeling respected and appreciated rather than hurt or angry?
 
I needed to hear this as much as anyone. I’m thankful to Tagg for the reminder.
 
As I watched the kids leave that day, I realized it wasn’t the gowns that were blinding, nor was it the sun. It was their swagger. It was how they made me feel.