My mind is a jumble of thoughts, longings, regrets and ideas that have aroused from the countless hours of contemplation 70 mile weeks of running bring. So, unlike my usual "central theme of the day" post, this one is gonna jump around in a more eclectic path than a cicada in mid-Missouri. Speaking of cicadas, thank god they're finally giving up. For two or three weeks there I was convinced that I would either lose my hearing or get my eyes poked out by a dive bombing insect that only comes out of the ground to fly around and scream after 13 years of underground solitude. I mean, come on. They live for two weeks, max, and are constantly looking to get it on. So, naturally, all they do is scream: "HEY! HEY! HEY!!!! HEEEEY!! HEY!" Their incessant chants made afternoon naps impossible, their tree infestations made grilling hazardous, and their overwhelming numbers allowed them to actually supplant the June Bug as the most annoying and haphazardous flyer in the sixth month of the year. I truly don't think I've seen a June bug this month.... Anyway, they're shutting up, so I'll shut up about them.
Today's father's day, and that's bringing up some uncomfortable thoughts of my rapidly approaching future. I love my family beyond description, and can't imagine getting this far in life without them. So when considering a possible future on the west coast for even more graduate school, there's always a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Four years of my ever continuing life could possibly be spent a thousand miles away from everyone I care about. On top of that, when I finally do valiantly return with a new salutation affixed before my name, I'll be pushing thirty years old. Wow... my life is just flying by. Time has never been on my side, and recently that fact is making me self-conscious about my choices and actions locked in the past. I can't help but always feeling as if I squandered the first four years here at Missouri, only skimming the top of my potential. So many goals and dreams were simply overlooked, as the stress and pain associated with running, injuries, and college life in general was too much weight atop my shoulders. It seems foolish to me now that I behaved as I did. Why was I so stressed, and unhappy? My actions look more like martyrdom and self-loathing rather than normal reactions to arising problems. So many days I spent curled up in my room, watching TV and ignoring friends, school, and the whole college experience! What the hell was I thinking!
There's an amazingly beautiful, fun, spontaneous, and downright perfect world right at my fingertips that has an expiration date. I only have one year left in this city, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to enjoy it. The unique experience of living downtown on a college campus with a jumble of amazing friends who are just like you on a constant search for a good time is not something I'm ready to relinquish. I love my friends and I love my life, and I don't want to look back and be disappointed with myself, regretting my immature actions. As every day goes by, I realize more clearly than ever that life is short. Slaid Cleaves gets it right when he says, "You'll never see those blue skies through young eyes again." So enough with both dwelling on my past, cursing my regrets, and letting everything ride on my future. Life is not about past or future, it's about the present. Carpe Diem. Enjoy every day!
On a less indoctrinated note, I'm slowly beginning to get in shape. It never ceases to amaze me how much repetition can improve fitness. You can read thousands of books, inquire hundreds of running legends, and develop a multitude of training regiments, and still never succeed. The one true secret of distance running is that there is no secret. To be good at running, you just have to run, plain and simple. Ten miles a day. Every day. So as I continue to pound out the miles, I can feel the transformation from injured fat-ass to high-octane champion. My resting heart rate drops below 45 at night. The low, deep beats have enough power to physically move the bed! Breathing seems less necessary, and once challenging tasks such as ascending the basement stairs no longer cause a baroreceptor reflex to adapt. And instead of transforming all food straight into fat, my body has become an incinerator that requires upwards of 6000 calories a day to operate. I feel good.
(WRITTEN EARLY JUNE)
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