Finally!

I ran 20 miles yesterday. It was windy. I was slow. I was definitely glad to be done at the end. But, I made it through and I'm not sore today. That's saying something, eh?

Next week, another 18-20 and I think I'll be okay, and even better than okay if I can get some speedwork in too...

In other news:

I'm playing 3 concerts this weekend. One tonight at 7:30 in St. Bart's Church in New York (51st and Park, if anyone happens to be interested in coming), another one tomorrow at noon here in New Brunswick, and then the final concert on Saturday at 8PM which is also here in New Brunswick. Tonight and Saturday's concert are the same, and tomorrow's is different.

I'm playing with Musica Raritana, the Baroque ensemble at Rutgers. I learned how to play the Baroque flute, and I have to say...it's actually fun.

And then Sunday? 20 miles on the roads. I have to. No options, no excuses. I hope I can find some way to make it interesting, but even if I can't...I have to do it anyway.

New Plan. Maybe.

So this is what I'm thinking. I'm thinking of perhaps taking a semester off. Nothing so extreme as quitting school or quitting the flute, but just a semester to attempt to figure things out.

I registered for the LSATs, so I might apply to law school. Or, I might not. Applications are due February 1, so I have time to decide. I signed up for the test so that I would have that option open.

So, next semester I could just try and see if I miss school, or if I just want to be a freelancing musician for now, or if I want to go to law school, or if I want to do something completely different.

I think the time off would be good because I can't figure it out when I'm in the midst of everything here. I go through my daily routine and weeks pass by and then months do, and now I'm already taking midterms. And that's all fine and good, but I'm not happy. Maybe I'm not happy here; maybe I'm not happy with other things. But, it's pretty much impossible to figure it out with all the variables still intact. So, the idea is to knock out one of those variables and go from there. I could always come back. Or not.

But of course, there are the details of making it actually work. I would have to sublet my apartment and figure out how to live really cheaply. I could move home, but I might go crazy if I do that (okay, I might go more crazy). Part of me wants to move back to Cleveland for the time off because I feel like there are still some loose ends there, and perhaps that's why I can't seem to get into the swing of things here. Maybe going back would give me some sort of closure (yuck, I hate that word) and I would then be able to either be happy with the situation there, or else really move on. Or maybe going back would be a horrible mistake and I would just be miserable for 4 months. Maybe the last thing I should do right now is hugely uproot myself and cause more turmoil than I already feel. Maybe I should just keep trucking along and see where things go from here.

ARGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

And I kind of have to figure this stuff out by Monday, because my teacher (rightfully) wants to know what's up.

If I were to move back to Cleveland, I would have to figure out how to live without much money. I'm sure I could re-connect with some of my old jobs, but not all of them...and I was barely making ends meet last year. Maybe being a nanny somewhere? But, I don't know if I could really do that. I like kids, but I'm not a 'kid-person', if you know what I mean.

So. I don't know. I obviously can't just crash on a couch for months at a time, so even though I have friends there, that doesn't really help.

Why does it have to be so fucking hard? I just want some stability. I want to feel good with where I am and what I'm doing, and I'm so far from that. My stomach hurts from anxiety and my hands shake. I'm a mess, and it's hard for me to function on a daily basis. And I hate that all I do is write about this crap. I don't want to be a negative read. I want to be positive and fun to read; I feel like I used to be.

I don't know what happened. Whatever happened to the whole time-machine idea? I could certainly use one right now. Past (to try to fix things) or future is of no relevance. I just want to be somewhere other than the present because the present (excuse the wording, but I don't know how else to put it) sucks. A lot.

Probably no one is still reading by now, but that's okay. Eventually I'll get back to the point where I use this space to entertain, but for now I have to concentrate on fixing things here. And don't get me wrong: I know how lucky I am in countless ways and I am very thankful, even if it doesn't seem that way. I'm just going through a rough patch, and sometimes it's hard to see the sun through the clouds.

Thank you.

Thanks for the advice. Thanks for telling me not to be too hard on myself and to just get out there. That's a definite problem of mine. I'm so hard on myself that I disabilitate myself and then I'm no longer capable of even doing the minimum, much less reaching whatever potential I might have.

But, you're all right. It's not about the race persay, but just getting out there in the environment I've come to love and doing my best, whatever that may be right now. Another day it'll be better, and hell, another day it'll be worse. You take what you can get. If you don't, you might just end up with nothing...and what does that accomplish?

So, I'll be in Philadelphia, marching my way through 26.2m...just to finish and have a good time. One of these days, though...I swear I'm going to break 4 hours. And then another day, I promise I'm going to qualify for Boston. One day...just not this day or even this year.

On another subject, I've been having trouble figuring out what to do with this so-called career/future of mine. I'm in music school, as you all know...getting my Doctorate, with the hopes of someday either being in an orchestra or teaching at a University. Here's the trouble though...the jobs don't exist. They're SO few and far between that you have to be willing to live in any remote corner of the world at anyone's beck and call...and then you still will only be paid peanuts.

Now, I'm not someone who really cares about money. I wouldn't be this far along a career in music if I did. However, I have grown up since making this life decision at the age of 14 (Who lets 14 year olds make decisions anyway? They should be shot...) and I now realize that you do, in fact, need a certain amount of money to make your way through this world with any kind of confidence or ease. I don't care about being rich. I do care about being able to comfortably support a family. I do care about being able to live where the person and people I love live.

I love music and I always want music to be part of my life, but I refuse to let music be my life.

I've grown bitter about the whole thing. I'm sarcastic and disinterested and I'm afraid I've been spoiled; that I'm burnt out. I practiced so ridiculously much (11 hours a day, not exaggerating) at way too young an age...and I'm afraid that I just used it all up, that I can no longer put the work in. I want to be a musician, but I feel like I'm 'done', like I'm no longer a work in progress.

And of course, that's a really horrible feeling. One always wants to be moving forward. I haven't felt like I was moving forward with the flute for quite a while. If anything, I feel like I'm getting worse because I no longer put the time I should into it.

So, part of me feels like I've 'been there/done that' and I need to move on. Law school beckons in the back of my mind, and I've researched LSAT times and review classes. I even had the 'I'm quitting' talk with my teacher today.

But then there is the actuality of it all...and I just don't know if I can follow through. I've defined myself as a flute player for so long, I don't know if I would know who I am without it. I'm having enough trouble finding myself these days; perhaps I don't need to add another struggle to the mix.

Is that the easy way out though? To just continue down this same path because it's the one I'm already on? Or is that just persevering through a hard time? I can't desipher it. I only know that I'm not happy right now, and something has to change, whether it be my attitude towards music or my choice of career.

Part of me worries that I'm projecting unhappiness in general onto music, and that music is more the culprit than the cause. But how do I know? I feel like a dog chasing its tail, never catching it, but always close. I feel like I'm about to fall over in exhaustion without anything at the end.

I don't know. I don't know what I'm asking for here. Obviously, no one can tell me what to do. Advice from other people who changed careers? Other people chasing some kind of dream with no reward? Or maybe just sympathy? Again, I really don't know.

I guess I just needed to write it all out. I'm not any closer to a solution, but at least I have proof that I'm thinking about it. That's got to count for something...

A Misunderstanding.

For a moment, I close my eyes and see clearly the first time we slept together, out first kiss, our first embrace, the astonishing discovery of a love that materialized when we least sought it, of the tenderness that took us by storm when we thought we were safely indulging in a one-night affair, of the profound intimacy we felt from the beginning, as if out entire lives had been a preparation for that meeting, of the ease, calm, and confidence with which we made love, like an old couple that has shared a thousand and one nights. And always, afterward, passions sated and love renewed, our bodies meld in sleep, not caring where one begins of the other ends, or whose hand or foot is whose, in such perfect complicity that we meet in our dreams and the next morning do not know who dreamed whome, and when one moves the other adjusts to the new angles and curves, and when one sighs the other sighs, and when one wakes the other wakes, too.

--Isabel Allende, from Paula

The death of the marathon.

I'm considering bailing on the Philadelphia marathon. I know it's lame. I've already paid; I should just do it.

The thing is...I haven't done the training. And I just don't thing there is much of a point in going and suffering through a miserable 26.2m. I won't break 4 hours. Hell, I probably won't even beat my last time, when I was trying to run slowly.

I'm mad at myself. I'm mad that I haven't been consistent, and I'm mad that I'm thinking about not doing it, and I'm just mad in general. Mad as in pissed off, and also mad as in a little bit crazy.

But! Congrats to my friend Piper, a first time marathoner today...she finished Chicago in 4:49...paying absolutely no attention to an injury. And of course, more congratulations to everyone else out there running today.

Looking up people's times this afternoon reminded me of being there last year. I've come a long way since that 19m run and 7.2m ambulance ride. A lot of things have changed in a year...

I'll wait another couple of weeks to make an official decision about Philadelphia. Maybe I can still get a few good runs in and feel better about the whole thing...

some good, some bad

My computer is salvagable. I didn't not lose any information. It cost me $250. It's going to be 2-4 weeks before I get it back.

visiting home

I went back to Cleveland for the weekend, and had a great time. I got to go to Liz's birthday corn-maze celebration, and I just got to spend time with a bunch of people that I really miss. I have a million pictures (or 61), but my computer is freaking out, so they'll have to wait.

I'm a little worried about the poor computer, actually. I'm getting this scary blue-screen error-message. I'm bringing it into Best Buy today (where I have a warranty), but I know all too well that said warranty does not cover software or viruses. I'm worried about all this money-wise, but more I'm scared of losing everything. I'm an idiot and have been putting off backing up and now if I lose all my pictures and writings, I'll just cry. A lot.

And I've had enough crying for a while.

So, cross your fingers for me and throw some salt over your shoulder while you're at it...all computer demons be gone.

I ran a couple of short 4 mile runs in the Parkway, which is just gorgeous this time of year. The canopying trees took my breath away. Then, I did my long run in Solon with Cleveland's famous Southeast Running Club. I ran 15.5 miles, with hills. I felt great through all of it. I was ready to be done, but it wasn't overly painful. Yeah, I should have done more. I need to break through this 15m barrier. I have 5 weeks until Philadelphia. I'm thinking 18, 20, then either 18 or 20, and then 12-15 and then the marathon. Ack. Maybe I'll try to get to New York one of these weekends and do the Central Park loop a few times. I'm so unbelievably bored of the runs around here; I don't think I can stomach another out and back long run...

So, the weekend in Cleveland was great. It was hard at times, and really...I just want to move back. I like everything here, and I'm enjoying school...but the overwhelming sense of missing people and my life in Cleveland by far overcomes all the good here. I can't help but think I'd be happier just figuring out my musical niche in a place where I feel comfortable, with people I love.

But, for now I'm here...and there isn't really anything wrong with any of it. Maybe I'll end up moving back sooner rather than later, but maybe I won't. I'm not all that great at the 'wait and see' game, but I am learning the rules slowly.

All dogs go to heaven.

I'm gooey.

I've been doing pushups and situps, but I still feel all...floppy. I guess it just comes from no longer training for an IM, so there isn't much I can do about it. I suppose I could sign up for another one, but honestly...I don't think I have it in me right now. This marathon thing is freaking me out enough.

So. I need to lift weights. And, I need to swim at least once a week. And I need to run more. 26.2m is far, and just because I've done it before does not mean I can do it again. Anything can happen out there, you know?

On a completely different note, I realized I'm a little weird about numbers. I do sets of 11 pushups and 44 situps because 8 is my favorite number and I like palindromes. I literally can't do 10 and 45...anyone know of some kind of term for this affliction? Please don't say OCD.

Interesting story: I'm playing a piece on the flute called the Reinecke Undine Sonata. It's kind of a cheesy piece, but it has a cool background, so that's what I'm trying to portray as I learn it. (I should have learned it a long time ago, and I'm now paying for putting it off...grr.) The piece was inspired by the mythical story of Undine, who was a water nymph. She married a human who swore to 'be faithful to her in every waking breath'. What happens next? She catches him cheating on her, of course. So, her punishment to him is a curse. As long as he is awake, he'll be fine. But, when he falls asleep he'll stop breathing and die.

That's the end of the story, and I just find it interesting that we never know what happens to the guy. I mean, does he figure out how to stay awake forever? If he does, then I want to know what the secret is. And if he didn't figure out the magical formula, then how long does he last? Are we talking days? weeks? I'm curious as to how strong his will to live was. Maybe he just bribed another nymph to remove the curse...

As a side note, there is a disease named after this mythical creature. The affliction called 'Undine's Curse' is basically one of severe sleep apnea, where the involuntary control of breathing is lost. About 1 of every 200,000 children are born with this condition.

Remembering to breathe. Not something you're usually thankful for, you know?

This Yellow Rose of Mine

My first race since IM

As I drove up to the race site and felt that familiar buzz of excitement that always surrounds a race, I realized that I hadn't raced since the IronMan...and then I realized that I missed it.

The race was the Liberty Waterfront Run, with (you guessed it) most of the run along the water with amazing views of the New York City skyline and the Statue of Liberty. It was 60 degrees and not a cloud in the sky--a perfect day to run...a perfect day for just about anything, really.

I was running this half marathon as an 'easy' way to get in my long run this weekend. I'm tired of attempting to run for hours by myself, and I needed something to push me.

So, I ran 2 miles beforehand to warm up and also to increase the day's milage a little. The plan was to run 3m afterwards to get up to 18.

The race started at 8:30 and I relunctantly started to run. Since my long run last weekend, my legs have been feeling a little funny...they hurt just a little with every stride, and I just feel labored. So, for the first couple of miles I was worried that I wouldn't be able to finish the race.

Then, the strangest thing happened. I remembered how to run fast (fast by my standards, of course). By my watch I was running in the low 8's...which is something that I haven't done since February. I was passing people easily and I felt great. I hit mile 10 at 1:22 and rejoiced because I was sure I was going to PR. My fastest half marathon time so far is 1:54, and that was with Liz practically pulling me for the last couple of miles. I thought...damn, even with 10 minute miles I'm going to come in around 1:53 all by myself.

And then I died. All of sudden I could feel every step again and I could tell I was slowing WAY down...the last 5K was horrible, and although I didn't stop and walk, I sure as hell wanted to. All those people I passed? Yeah, they passed by me like I was nothing. I comforted myself with the fact that I had already ran 2 miles, so if I hadn't, I wouldn't have died until mile 12...but it was still really bad.

The official times aren't up yet, but I finished the race in 1:57:25 by my watch, which is an 8:58 pace. I was just aiming for an easy training run, and thought I'd finish somewhere around 2 hours, probably a little more...so really, it's a fine time. But, I couldn't have kept going, and I just ran an incredibly stupid race. I got cocky and got taken in by the fact that I was in a race.

I'm addicted to it all again, I must say. I came back and tried to find more races to do, and then realized that I really just need to freaking train for the race I'm already signed up for. There will be more races to sign up for later.

There were some really impressive runners there. I overheard someone saying he ran a 1:05, and that someone he knew ran a 1:01. Yeah. 1:01. I was at the half way point when they were finishing. It just kind of awes me, you know?

Needless to say, I didn't do my last 3 miles after the race. So, 15.1m for the day. Next week, I'll do a longer run of 18m...SLOWLY. hmph.

15 minutes could save you 15% or more on car insurance.

Broken By Workstudy

Okay, I'm back.

I have this job, see...and it entails sitting in the front office at school and doing...absolutely nothing. for hours at a time. You've finished your homework. You've read books and books and lots of magazines. How many times can you check your email? What do you do when your blogs are all read?

Here's an answer. You scream. Loudly. At the next person who walks into the office asking an assinine question. Or, you get your act together and decide you don't want to get fired by the school you attend and instead figure out something else to do with your time.

So I'm going to write.

I'll be back, writing all kinds of things that no one cares about, but in which I somehow find pride.

I've enjoyed the time off. I kept reading all of your blogs, and began to appreciate the whole experience more. I felt nostalgic, but in a good way.

I can't even begin to start talking about what's happened in the past couple of months. Nothing and everything, the glass both half full and half empty. Things are still the same; some days are good and others are bad. But, at least now I'm concentrating on fixing the problems instead of just dwelling on them.

I'm still planning on running the Philadelphia marathon on November 19. My training has been sporadic, as have most other things these days. I'll be alright. I'm not going to break 4 hours, but I'll finish. I've done a 14m run, a 15m, and then another 14m that was supposed to be 17, but I died. I'm still recovering.

This Sunday I'm going to run a half marathon in Jersey City, with a couple miles on either side to get in my long run. That way I'll be less apt to rationalizing my way out of finishing.

And that's that. I feel gooey and out of shape and I've been reading Fast Food Nation and being revolted that I can't seem to get myself to the grocery store and then eating grilled cheese sandwiches from the Student Union and then feeling even more flabby and yuck I don't have any energy to run and then I feel even more gross and then I go to sleep.

It's all relative, I know. And I'll get it back...I just need some consistency in my training. I'm trying. I'll get there.

So there it is. I guess that's all I have to say for now. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I'm hesitating to click Publish. But you know, if it's not working, I'll just stop writing again. And that's it. No need for drama. I'm in control of this. No reason to think otherwise. Why is it such a big deal? I don't know, really. It shouldn't be.

I guess I just look back at this blog and there was a period of time when I was so happy. And it's all documented and that's really great. But it's also sad because I'm not so happy right now and I want to be and I see how everything just fell apart and that's all documented too. And I feel homesick for something that doesn't exist. And then where do I go from there? I guess I just start with where I am and see what happens. There isn't much else to expect from myself.