I received another rejection email from a teaching position in Boston just before my run today. I have to say that wasn't the one thing that kept me below spirits when I started on my run today.
Work has been difficult lately. I have been trying to quit but it seems that in this day and age it's impossible to find another job. I have just outgrown camp. I have not been happy about the way things have been run this year. It seems any problem that there has been whether through the campers or the staff that are under me, I never seem to hear about it and the problem is just fixed by the other staff members. I feel that I am no longer significant to this camp and that if I was gone from the job it would not matter at all.
Therefore, I wasn't in what you would call the highest of spirits when I received yet another rejection after not only no offers but no interviews except for one where I didn't make the second round. I decided that I was feeling so much like shit, that I might as well run four miles because I couldn't feel worse and I could use some more time to contemplate. I realize now writing this that I shouldn't taken the more time to contemplate.
I think one form of rejection causes several other forms of rejection and depression to come to the surface. I started the run, running hard thinking about all of the girls that I see on their facebook. I see them smiling at the camera that took that picture while I know they never thought of me that way unless it was by chance that one drunken mistake. They would never say it to my face of course but I know for a fact that is the case. Physical attractiveness rules this world, and the sooner people will just fucking admit to that the better that we will be.
It was after I passed mile one where I realized that the biggest image burned into mind was the back of Ali as she walked up the stairs of the campus parking lot as I was in my car driving away through tear soaked eyes. It was the last time I would see her without the look of disdain. The next time I would see her would be at alumni weekend where she would halfheartedly explain to me that she didn't respond to my letter because there are some things she needed to say in person, and I remember me being dumb enough to fall for it.
Just before Mile 2, I began to think about my friends. I began to think about Tim and Kevin and I began to realize that as much as I was going to see them again, as much as I would keep in touch with them, they are still going to be my college friends. It will never be the same as it was this year and the year before that. Halfway between mile two and three I ran into an empty parking lot and cried my eyes out.
After I composed myself I continued on the run and I saw a perfectly groomed and mowed lawn. Each stripe as even as beautiful as the next. I looked at it.
"Fuck You. What the fuck do you know about life?"
As crazy as it is to talk to a lawn, what the hell did it know about being perfect. It thinks it could be that perfect but that's not life. That lawn will get trampled on, rained on, and it will grow into a deformed mess. That lawn didn't know shit about the real world.
Life isn't perfect. A groomed lawn isn't life.
A rejection from a job is life.
An insignificant job is life.
Being judged on your outer appearance is life
Not being over a girl after a year and a half who was never even your girlfriend is life.
Leaving your friends is life.
An empty parking lot is life.
On the last mile, I raced down a suburb seeing fireflies dances low the ground of each unkempt lawn, and it dawned on me. Life isn't perfect or uniform or ever works out right, but life can be beautiful.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Four on the Fourth
After a nice long relaxing weekend on the Cape, I spent the Fourth of July getting up early to run a four mile race. That's right, while most people were resting and sleeping in on their day off, I was waking up to run four miles. I just love family traditions!
I honestly treated it like a joke. My whole family was there and I was just joking around with them about how bad I was going to do. Which was just a disguise for my insecurity of actually not being good at running anymore.
When the air horn blew, I struggled to elbow through the crowd and fought to maintain a steady powerful pace. It was around this time, that I ran into my cousin, Neil. He had a good stride when I snuck up behind him. Upon running next to him, he turned to me.
"There is no way we can pick up this pace."
"You're damn right, we can't."
He was absolutely right and we both fell behind. On the first hill, I slowed down considerably and saw him once again. I turned to him smiling.
"You were right."
It was at this point that Neil passed me and went ahead by about 25 feet. There we were, cousins pinned against each other. He was ahead of me but we were going at the same pace. For the next mile, I slowly reel him in and make no progress.
Finally, there is a downhill and I let gravity take me as I quickly pass unfunny quips that annoying kids made in chalk below us. I pass Neil as soon as possible and run ahead as far as I could. When running alone, I realize, "Shit, I have no one to run with, I should have stayed with Neil."
I finished in 32 minutes. That is not great for a race, but I was goofing off most of the run and I wasn't taking it seriously. I will however take it more serious when I run the Trumbull Sunset Run, I will take things more serious.
I honestly treated it like a joke. My whole family was there and I was just joking around with them about how bad I was going to do. Which was just a disguise for my insecurity of actually not being good at running anymore.
When the air horn blew, I struggled to elbow through the crowd and fought to maintain a steady powerful pace. It was around this time, that I ran into my cousin, Neil. He had a good stride when I snuck up behind him. Upon running next to him, he turned to me.
"There is no way we can pick up this pace."
"You're damn right, we can't."
He was absolutely right and we both fell behind. On the first hill, I slowed down considerably and saw him once again. I turned to him smiling.
"You were right."
It was at this point that Neil passed me and went ahead by about 25 feet. There we were, cousins pinned against each other. He was ahead of me but we were going at the same pace. For the next mile, I slowly reel him in and make no progress.
Finally, there is a downhill and I let gravity take me as I quickly pass unfunny quips that annoying kids made in chalk below us. I pass Neil as soon as possible and run ahead as far as I could. When running alone, I realize, "Shit, I have no one to run with, I should have stayed with Neil."
I finished in 32 minutes. That is not great for a race, but I was goofing off most of the run and I wasn't taking it seriously. I will however take it more serious when I run the Trumbull Sunset Run, I will take things more serious.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Paolo Nutini Would Be Proud. I'm Not.
My parents have been telling me they are paying for quite a few lasts recently. They have paid for my last phone, my last laptop, my last dinner, my last beer, my last shirt, and finally they just paid for my last pair of running shoes. They are Aasics Gel Kayanos and at $140 a pair they are the best damn shoes and will be my shoes for quite some time. I decided to take them for a three mile test run today.
I'm going to wind the clock back to last weekend. Last weekend I went back to Providence to surprise my friends that are currently on the club, BOP. I wen there with other graduates because it's a tradition to do so every summer. It was good to see my fellow graduating friends and to answer any reservations, yes i did get fucking cocked out of my mind. So much so that there are two separate nights of pictures of me passed out on two separate couches. Needless to say, I am much too old to party, even after only two months from graduating. But, as fun as it may have been, this weekend was much more difficult then I expected it to be.
I feel like over the past few months before I graduated, I was lied to. I was told that I would still be a part of the BOP family and that I would never be forgotten about and this calmed me. I came into the basement where they were partying this year and they were all really excited to see me, but I could just tell I didn't belong. I could tell that I was no longer part of the 50 member family that they used to be. I was able to know for a fact that they were moving on and I was no longer a part of it. It's something I should have realized a long while before that, but I guess you never realize something until you truly live in it.
With that in mind, I didn't run this week. I was depressed I felt like shit. I felt pathetic and unwanted, I am pathetic and unwanted. But after the new shoes I decided to give it another go.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My Inner Child
I think that we all have our own inner child. I like to hope we do. It is what maintains our innocence.
We want attention.
We want to be valued.
We get scared
We show off.
It isn't as obvious and we are ashamed of it, but we all have that inner child still brewing inside of us. It shows, but in the most unlikely of places....like on a run.
I decided to change things up today and run a different three mile loop. I was going to run to a one mile loop in the woods, that was one mile away. Putting all of that together means that I would be running three miles today. About a quarter of the mile from the run, off the main road I was running on, 3 kids were messing around on the razor scooters. They were shouting over to me and taunting me. I responded the best way to respond to those kinds of things. I completely ignored them. Because, hopefully, they would realize how stupid they were being. But an abused runner can only dream.
When I reached the trail, the back entrance that I used to always go into, was covered in weeds. It could still be vaguely seen, but it looked menacing. I didn't want to go in there, but there was no turning back now. I traipsed in and the trail was just as menacing as it used to be. I continued to run as fast as I could. The trees were close by and I just imagined some sort of monster snatching me up. The woods trail turned onto a wooden bridge with reeds twice my size surrounding it. I heard them rustling and then splashing. I was certain the monster was going to get me, and I sprinted the rest of the woods trail and jumped right back onto the road. I haven't been scared like that since I was six, to be honest I don't know what came over me.
The last mile went terrible, most likely from sprinting the last mile. While I was struggling, I remembered those three kids on the razor scooters, and I didn't want them to see me like this. I wanted them to see me in all of my glory. I wanted them to see that they were making fun of one bad ass mother fucker. So when I began to hear their voices but they weren't in sight, I started to pick up the pace. By the time they could see me, I ran by them in a brisk pace and I didn't even hear a word from them. I like to think it was because I silenced them, but really it was most likely because they didn't even see me much less care how I was doing on my run.
When I turned onto my street, I almost keeled over and barely finished. I let my inner child take over on the run for me today. It was foolish but good to know that I still have some innocence.
We want attention.
We want to be valued.
We get scared
We show off.
It isn't as obvious and we are ashamed of it, but we all have that inner child still brewing inside of us. It shows, but in the most unlikely of places....like on a run.
I decided to change things up today and run a different three mile loop. I was going to run to a one mile loop in the woods, that was one mile away. Putting all of that together means that I would be running three miles today. About a quarter of the mile from the run, off the main road I was running on, 3 kids were messing around on the razor scooters. They were shouting over to me and taunting me. I responded the best way to respond to those kinds of things. I completely ignored them. Because, hopefully, they would realize how stupid they were being. But an abused runner can only dream.
When I reached the trail, the back entrance that I used to always go into, was covered in weeds. It could still be vaguely seen, but it looked menacing. I didn't want to go in there, but there was no turning back now. I traipsed in and the trail was just as menacing as it used to be. I continued to run as fast as I could. The trees were close by and I just imagined some sort of monster snatching me up. The woods trail turned onto a wooden bridge with reeds twice my size surrounding it. I heard them rustling and then splashing. I was certain the monster was going to get me, and I sprinted the rest of the woods trail and jumped right back onto the road. I haven't been scared like that since I was six, to be honest I don't know what came over me.
The last mile went terrible, most likely from sprinting the last mile. While I was struggling, I remembered those three kids on the razor scooters, and I didn't want them to see me like this. I wanted them to see me in all of my glory. I wanted them to see that they were making fun of one bad ass mother fucker. So when I began to hear their voices but they weren't in sight, I started to pick up the pace. By the time they could see me, I ran by them in a brisk pace and I didn't even hear a word from them. I like to think it was because I silenced them, but really it was most likely because they didn't even see me much less care how I was doing on my run.
When I turned onto my street, I almost keeled over and barely finished. I let my inner child take over on the run for me today. It was foolish but good to know that I still have some innocence.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Guidance of an Inner Monologue
Regardless of the immersion in nature I had, I was pretty discouraged about how terrible I felt on Saturday morning. I decided to take an unscheduled day off on Sunday, just because I felt like my legs needed a race, even though my mileage and speed hasn't been what it used to, I think my legs and body have had difficulties with the adjustment of being a runner again.
Once again, today, I had nothing to do. Therefore I just slumped around the house and ate anything that didn't normally belong to a full meal. It was when I began to think about running where that pesky cough came back. After lying dormant for many weeks, the attack of the flem creature once again came to be a fear for my lungs. I thought about not running. I was pretty dead set on not running, but then I just said, "What the hell?". I laced up the shoes and took off just before dinner.
A runner normally keeps sane during racing or training but talking to themselves through an inner monologue. It's like an inner coach, which says encouragement or advice or just consoling words during a runner's most difficult hour of pain. A runner's inner monologue can be their best friend, or their worst enemy. For me, today, it was both.
I started out going over the strategy for the three miles in my head, "Take it slow for the first two, stay strong, and then have something left for that last mile, because that mile is the absolute worst." I ran the first one and a half miles just like my inner monologue told me to. It was when I turned around when things had a change of plans.
On the run back, I was telling myself the same thing, until some big ass runner with a goofy stride came out of a side street and ended up right next to me. To keep things from being awkward I went a little bit ahead of him. Then those damn awkward goofy footsteps were loud and approaching. I obviously didn't look back but hearing that ungraceful stomping was more than I can bare, so I began to pick up the pace more than before.
I didn't hear my monologue until I hit the Post Road, and this time it was mean to me. "What the hell are you showing off for some, goofy mother fucker? You're now going to be shit for that last mile." I then switched gears and tried to be more positive, because I knew that if I got into my head it would be the end of me. "Quit being so negative, you're going to be fine. You just need to take each hill as it comes."
...and that's just what happened. I was strong and I hit every hill with head on vengeance. There was a moment, where a blonde girl was a little while ahead of me. I decided to try to catch her, and I thought to myself, "Huh, this is the first girl I've actually chased in the context of running." And unlike other situations, I was successful this time. I passed her on the other side of the street, just to make sure that I didn't scare her, and if she had pepper spray, it would be bad day for both of us. I finished strong, feeling good and not wanting to die, which is always a good start.
Once again, today, I had nothing to do. Therefore I just slumped around the house and ate anything that didn't normally belong to a full meal. It was when I began to think about running where that pesky cough came back. After lying dormant for many weeks, the attack of the flem creature once again came to be a fear for my lungs. I thought about not running. I was pretty dead set on not running, but then I just said, "What the hell?". I laced up the shoes and took off just before dinner.
A runner normally keeps sane during racing or training but talking to themselves through an inner monologue. It's like an inner coach, which says encouragement or advice or just consoling words during a runner's most difficult hour of pain. A runner's inner monologue can be their best friend, or their worst enemy. For me, today, it was both.
I started out going over the strategy for the three miles in my head, "Take it slow for the first two, stay strong, and then have something left for that last mile, because that mile is the absolute worst." I ran the first one and a half miles just like my inner monologue told me to. It was when I turned around when things had a change of plans.
On the run back, I was telling myself the same thing, until some big ass runner with a goofy stride came out of a side street and ended up right next to me. To keep things from being awkward I went a little bit ahead of him. Then those damn awkward goofy footsteps were loud and approaching. I obviously didn't look back but hearing that ungraceful stomping was more than I can bare, so I began to pick up the pace more than before.
I didn't hear my monologue until I hit the Post Road, and this time it was mean to me. "What the hell are you showing off for some, goofy mother fucker? You're now going to be shit for that last mile." I then switched gears and tried to be more positive, because I knew that if I got into my head it would be the end of me. "Quit being so negative, you're going to be fine. You just need to take each hill as it comes."
...and that's just what happened. I was strong and I hit every hill with head on vengeance. There was a moment, where a blonde girl was a little while ahead of me. I decided to try to catch her, and I thought to myself, "Huh, this is the first girl I've actually chased in the context of running." And unlike other situations, I was successful this time. I passed her on the other side of the street, just to make sure that I didn't scare her, and if she had pepper spray, it would be bad day for both of us. I finished strong, feeling good and not wanting to die, which is always a good start.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Cure to a Scorpion Bowl
It was my best friend's birthday last night. While watching our japanese food being prepared in front of us, we decided to get a scorpion bowl. The name itself really accurately describes it. It's a bowl full of fucking poison. More specifically it's a giant glass of fruit juice and rum. Needless to say I woke with my primary concern on survival and not a run, but today was the valley day and the best thing for me would be a run. Therefore I slowly put my shoes on and hopped in the car with my folks.
The run obviously did not go well. My legs felt like rubber and I could barely pick them up. It was most likely the scorpion bowl from the night before, but I'm worried that running 6 times a week after never running for a few years has begun to take a toll, regardless of the low mileage. Regardless of the reason, I felt like absolute shit today.
I kept stopping and going and stopping and going. Eventually I looked to my right and saw the beautiful stream that runs along the railway bed. I saw the morning sun light fight it's way through the tree branches only to succeed in the occasional beam. I decided to walk down to the river. I stood at its bay and was entirely at peace. I looked again to my right and instead of going back on the railway bed, I ran along the river.
It's not about how fast you run, or many miles. What matters is how you feel?
The run obviously did not go well. My legs felt like rubber and I could barely pick them up. It was most likely the scorpion bowl from the night before, but I'm worried that running 6 times a week after never running for a few years has begun to take a toll, regardless of the low mileage. Regardless of the reason, I felt like absolute shit today.
I kept stopping and going and stopping and going. Eventually I looked to my right and saw the beautiful stream that runs along the railway bed. I saw the morning sun light fight it's way through the tree branches only to succeed in the occasional beam. I decided to walk down to the river. I stood at its bay and was entirely at peace. I looked again to my right and instead of going back on the railway bed, I ran along the river.
It's not about how fast you run, or many miles. What matters is how you feel?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Difficulties Physically and Mentally
I didn't teach today. There are half days that are now field days and most teachers will be in until the last day of school. So I suppose that yesterday will be my last day of school. Therefore I didn't wake up until 11, I didn't put pants on until 2 and am probably not going to shave until my next interview whenever the hell that is going to be.
I went for the run with the expecation that I would be running that three mile that I've been running for the past week. As I was sitting on my bed, tying my shoes, I was strategizing how I would tackle the route that has tackled me twice this week. I would have to start out taking the first half slow. I would be constant but I had to be careful about how I handled it, because the last half was full of rolling hills, most of which I would have to go up instead of going down.
I was barely a quarter of a mile into the run where everything hurt, nothing internally, but everything was sore. I had to just do a mile. I took that as a day off and today will be a day off as well.
It's fitting that I didn't do well today with my run, because I haven't exactly been feeling really great about myself. I think there are several parts of graduating that are difficult. For me it was the same stuff that I hated while in college that I still hate now. I hate going onto facebook and looking at the different girls that have brushed me off over the past few years and are now in their pictures, still beautiful, and flirting with all sorts of guys and having the time of their lives. People could argue that I never made a real go of it, or tried to with any of them, but of the small fraction I did and those failed results, I pretty much knew the shot that I had with anyone else that beautiful. Also, the guys they are with now didn't have to try, they didn't have to go for it, these beautiful girls just threw themselves at him and they are all happy.
I always tend to downplay my physical appearance and I never fail to stop doing such things because, let's be honest, I have a mirror, I have seen pictures of myself on facebook, and then I see these beautiful women and I already know that I have lose the battle of the looks. But then I look at the guys they are with, and I am just puzzled by it. I know that I am nothing great to look at. I mean, that's the main reason why I am running because as butt ugly as I am, I feel like at least I will have a pretty decent body, or a skinny runners one. But some of these guys aren't really much to look at. I mean granted some of them are knockouts that I definitely wouldn've been able to compete with, but some of them are pretty average. So what is bad about me, what do I do wrong? I don't know. I wouldn't want to be with me if I was them. I could say that all of these people are vapid, superficial, and emotionless, but they really aren't. And they are the ones who are going to go far in life and not me.
Another pain of graduating is realizing that you are no longer needed. I am...was a part of a club that is responsible for putting events on at our campus. It was also my second family of life and first family at college. They were the people that got me through rough time and also I had the best time of the world with them. They're my fifty best friends. But now that I graduated, I have to learn to move on from them. I don't want to be that guy who pesters the board and doesn't leave them alone. The person that doesn't let go of college and is pathetic. Regardless, I just feel like shit. I feel like I can't be that guy. I see the other people on the club still at Providence College and I see them talking to each other about events and parties. I see them wanting other people that left to come back and telling other people that they miss them. Their first party is in about a week and its a tradition for those that graduated to come back and see the rest of the people on the club. I was going to go, but I don't feel like they don't want to see me, so I don't see the point. I am probably just being dramatic, then again it feels real.
On saturday I will be back at the valley, with a new frame of mind and hopefully body.
I went for the run with the expecation that I would be running that three mile that I've been running for the past week. As I was sitting on my bed, tying my shoes, I was strategizing how I would tackle the route that has tackled me twice this week. I would have to start out taking the first half slow. I would be constant but I had to be careful about how I handled it, because the last half was full of rolling hills, most of which I would have to go up instead of going down.
I was barely a quarter of a mile into the run where everything hurt, nothing internally, but everything was sore. I had to just do a mile. I took that as a day off and today will be a day off as well.
It's fitting that I didn't do well today with my run, because I haven't exactly been feeling really great about myself. I think there are several parts of graduating that are difficult. For me it was the same stuff that I hated while in college that I still hate now. I hate going onto facebook and looking at the different girls that have brushed me off over the past few years and are now in their pictures, still beautiful, and flirting with all sorts of guys and having the time of their lives. People could argue that I never made a real go of it, or tried to with any of them, but of the small fraction I did and those failed results, I pretty much knew the shot that I had with anyone else that beautiful. Also, the guys they are with now didn't have to try, they didn't have to go for it, these beautiful girls just threw themselves at him and they are all happy.
I always tend to downplay my physical appearance and I never fail to stop doing such things because, let's be honest, I have a mirror, I have seen pictures of myself on facebook, and then I see these beautiful women and I already know that I have lose the battle of the looks. But then I look at the guys they are with, and I am just puzzled by it. I know that I am nothing great to look at. I mean, that's the main reason why I am running because as butt ugly as I am, I feel like at least I will have a pretty decent body, or a skinny runners one. But some of these guys aren't really much to look at. I mean granted some of them are knockouts that I definitely wouldn've been able to compete with, but some of them are pretty average. So what is bad about me, what do I do wrong? I don't know. I wouldn't want to be with me if I was them. I could say that all of these people are vapid, superficial, and emotionless, but they really aren't. And they are the ones who are going to go far in life and not me.
Another pain of graduating is realizing that you are no longer needed. I am...was a part of a club that is responsible for putting events on at our campus. It was also my second family of life and first family at college. They were the people that got me through rough time and also I had the best time of the world with them. They're my fifty best friends. But now that I graduated, I have to learn to move on from them. I don't want to be that guy who pesters the board and doesn't leave them alone. The person that doesn't let go of college and is pathetic. Regardless, I just feel like shit. I feel like I can't be that guy. I see the other people on the club still at Providence College and I see them talking to each other about events and parties. I see them wanting other people that left to come back and telling other people that they miss them. Their first party is in about a week and its a tradition for those that graduated to come back and see the rest of the people on the club. I was going to go, but I don't feel like they don't want to see me, so I don't see the point. I am probably just being dramatic, then again it feels real.
On saturday I will be back at the valley, with a new frame of mind and hopefully body.
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