Who dey? We dey

I decided today would be a good day to just forget about cross-country for awhile and focus a little more of the other things going on in my life. First priority: Steelers vs. Bengals game. To my fellow Cincinnatians, don't hate me: I'm a Steelers fan. I can't help it. I've always been a Steelers fan. My mother grew up in Pittsburgh, my Dad grew up in the Nati. And for some reason, years ago I decided to become a Steelers fan. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.

I've noticed how this season people haven't been giving me as much grief about being a Steelers fan as they have in the past. I have a two theories to this reason: 1) They've accepted that I'm a Steelers fan and are finally mature enough to handle that 2) The Bengals are doing really bad this season (especially compared to the Steelers) so they have nothing to say to bring me down. I'm siding with numero dos. After the crap I have been getting for the past 3 years, especially when Palmer got injured, I've come to the realization that when it comes to sports, no matter what people say, they are fair weathered fans. Not just Bengals fans though. I'm sure you can find in any city, in any sport, fans who choose to cheer when the scoreboard is in their favor, but all of a sudden hush up if a season is going downhill. This year, the perfect example are the Bengals fans in Cincinnati.

At least they get along.

Who can blame them though? Who wants to cheer for a team that is always doing terrible? Who wants to support a team that never wins? But do they understand how vital supporting a team is? I can say from first experience I know what it's like to have a "fair weathered fan" support me.

I know, I promised I wasn't going to talk about cross-country but I can't stop myself. This example is perfect for this post. When I first joined the cross-country team my freshman year, I had two coaches: Showman and Gerstner. Showman was the girl's coach, Gerstner the head coach and guy's coach. For the first two years of having Showman and Gerstner, Showman was the only one to really care about the girl's team. She designed the work-outs, gave us the pep talks, etc. Then during track season of my sophomore year, she quit because we sucked. We weren't competitive, our times weren't fast enough, and in her own words we were "lazy and didn't work hard". While the last part of that is complete bull crap, it was true that we were not a successful team. So Showman quit, and Gerstner didn't care because he was in charge of the guys, and they were doing pretty well. Until my junior year came and everything changed.

So the Wicked Witch was dead, and Glenda the good witch had arrived. Meiser came and changed everything. Even with our fabulous record of loses and negative comments, Meiser came in to give it a try and see if he could take this team and turn it around. And within only two years we went from coming in last at Districts to coming in third and qualifying to regionals. And now Showman regrets quitting, or at least saying everything she did, and Gerstner all of a sudden took a deep interest in the girl's team this season. He never coached us before, never encouraged us before, barely even acknowledged us before, but as soon as we started doing well he was right there on the sidelines cheering us on. It makes me sick.

But now that it's all said and done, do we give credit to the man who has been there for four years but only started to try and coach us this year? No. We give credit to the one who believed in us right from the start, who decided to overlook the negativities and approach it with hope that one day we could be as successful as we had only dreamed we could be. Well, our dream came true. And you can bet we can discern the true fan from the fair weathered fan.

So who's to say that professional athletes don't know who the fair weathered fans are from the real ones? After my own personal experience, even though I'm not there physically to cheer on my team all the time, I will always support my Steelers. And look at that. They won.

So here's to the "Who dey" and the "We dey" as both Pittsburghers and Cincinnatians alike should always continue to support their teams. May the best fans win :)

Me being the geeky Steelers fan who thinks she's so cool :P

The Doors

"Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens." Whenever one door closes, it is another end of a chapter in the great book of life. Whenever one door closes, it means the death of one experience, but only to lead to the birth of a new one. Perhaps the chapter was like a fairytale story straight from a Disney movie, or a hellish nightmare you couldn't wait to wake up from. Either way, they both lead to the same fate. And either way you move on, ready to open that new door.
Tomorrow I will be closing a door in my life. Closing the door on my high school cross-country season, writing the final page of another chapter in my life. I will run the last 5k race with my team. Tomorrow I will stand at the starting line, with my best friends to the left and right of me, all of us looking at the feat ahead of us. For myself and my three fellow senior teammates, it will be the last race of our high school cross-country season ever. Standing in our Indian pride of red and white, all of us chasing our dreams of faster times, passing new and old competition, running to our final finish line, ready to give it our all. Our high school dreams coming true. What was once a wish upon a star will become reality on October 27, 2007.

It is a true terrifying tale to know that the chapter you have been writing for the past four years will be finished, and that a new chapter is waiting to be begin. Yet you don't know what it is going to be about. Perhaps school, or a job, or love, or family and friendships, etc. You don't know what's behind that closed door. You just know that you have to open. And it may not be just one door. Perhaps there are several. And you have to take the courage in picking one of those doors, turn one of the handles, and see what is waiting on the other side.

I think it's a blessing to be given the chance to have this new opportunity ahead of me. To have the opportunity to "grow up" and find out what is waiting ahead in life for me. Where this journey will take me, where I might end up. Sure it's a scary, nerve-racking, "what the heck am I doing?" type of feeling, but it's one I will never get to experience again. When will I be given another chance to really see what is out there waiting for me? To get to follow my dreams and find out if they come true? Perhaps never. So I'm very blessed with this new door waiting to be open, I know it is a rare opportunity that is precious to finally come to.

But it doesn't mean I'm afraid to close this door behind me. It doesn't mean I won't miss cross-country, my team, my coach, the races, the running. Of course I will miss it. I already bought my water-proof mascara to wear specifically for my tears tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be closing a door, but I will be loving every minute of it. Enjoying every precious moment I will be blessed with. I've always heard "Run like it's your last race" and I have tried to apply that to every race I've ever ran. Tomorrow that saying will not be just a motivational saying, but the actual truth. Tomorrow I will get to run my last race. And God knows I will love every moment of it.

Half the Fun (Those last 5 minutes)

There are some days that you know you're just having the best day ever and that you will never experience a day like that again. And it's those rare golden days that you really learn to live in the moment. Lucky me, I was able to experience that last Saturday.

Districts. My senior year districts. The most important race of my high school cross-country career. The most important race because it was my chance to achieve the most important goal I have ever set out for myself in running. It was my chance to qualify for regionals. I have been dreaming of regionals since I was a freshmen. It only became a realistic goal last year. I clearly remember when I decided that regionals was my goal. I was at Subway with my coach, and my two co-captains Shannon and Swope. We were having a meeting over the upcoming year, our senior season. I remember my coach stating how it was going to take a lot of work, but if we really tried, we could achieve it. I sat there with my eyes gazing to that odd green border on the wall as I confessed my hopes and fears to the three of them. I think it was at that moment that I realized I was willing to give it my all to qualify to regionals. And from that moment on I did. I went to every single winter conditioning practice. Fell flat on my butt twice in an icy parking lot trying to train. Threw hundreds of questions at my coach. Cried the first day of track practice because I didn't do as well as I had hoped. Cried in the woods at GMCs when I did about twenty seconds slower than my PR. Felt one of the happiest moments in my life when my coach told me how proud he was of me at the Mason meet. I went through typical high school drama, and experienced all the ups and downs that could be included in a season. And through all of it I still had one goal in mind: regionals.

So there I was at the starting line on Saturday, realizing this might be the last cross-country race I'll ever run. That I could really bomb it today and all my hard work would be a waste. I sat there stretching, and all of a sudden that throbbing feeling in my throat, that sickening feeling in my stomach decided to let loose, and those steady streams of salty saline began sliding down my face. Thank goodness for Lauren being there to pray for me. I don't know how to describe that feeling. Those last few moments before you have a chance to prove yourself. When four years comes down to four minutes. It's just a whirl of emotions. A whirl of emotions that reminds you just how bad you want it. More than you could ever realize.

I remember running with my coach earliar last week, asking him what he missed the most about high school running. He told me that I would learn to realize that I would miss most those 5 minutes before race time. At the time I didn't understand it. Why would I miss those 5 minutes? Why not the actual race? Or the last 5 minutes? Or anything else? I didn't get it. But I didn't ask, because I realized it was something I needed to learn on my own. And now I realize what that is. You miss those last five minutes because it's those last five minutes that remind you just how bad you want what you are setting out for. At least for me it is.

I'll get straight to the point: I qualified. Held fourth place throughout most of the race, but sadly got out kicked in the last 200 yards. What can I say? They all know I can't sprint. But I qualified, and so did my team. And it's afterwards that you realize that you left everything on the course. I realized that I went out there and ran the best race of my life, and despite my nervous breakdown right before, I just had the time of my life. It's a bittersweet feeling knowing that what you've look forward to is over, but you accomplished what you set out for.

Now I'm down to one week. One week of practice left. One race left. And then it is officially over. Although regionals has always been my goal, and I'm thrilled for the opportunity to run in Troy this weekend, my dream is over, my goal has been accomplished. I've realized that the best thing about achieving a goal is not when you've actually achieved it, but the road to getting there. Achieving a goal lasts for a little while, but the journey to achieving it is much longer. And it only makes it even sweeter. I guess it's just like they say, getting there is half the fun.

Thank you Jason

There's something about Jason Mraz that just seems to soothe my soul. There's no doubt the man can sing, what a hell of a voice he's got there. But I think it's his writing that is the most intriguing. His lyrics and his journal entries, there's something about them that I am so addicted to. I guess it's his honesty that just seems to lift my spirits.

I haven't read his journal in awhile, but today in journalism class I punched in www.jasonmraz.com and with a few clicks I was right back into the world of Jason Mraz, just as I had last seen it months and months ago. The entry I read today was about his visit to his old high school job, how long it had been since he was last in there. I have quit quite a few jobs myself: McDonalds, Steve and Barry's, and Bob Evans. Ironic that I'm returning to Steve and Barry's. How nice it was of them to give me my job back. I missed it, especially after working as a waitress at Bob Evans. But that's a different story. Back to Jason's journal entry. He talked about what it was like working at the store, how he quit and returned, and then had to quit again. But aren't most high school jobs like that? What are you suppose to do when you finally decide it's time to leave? I keep thinking to myself how there's something better out there and I just haven't had the opportunity to seize it yet. But I guess that's what high school is all about. Living in anticipation to what is really out there, what the "real world" is like, what it will be like to finally chase your dreams, but deep down you're secretly terrified at the thought of letting go. At least for me I am. I can dream all day of the places I wish to travel, the faces I'd like to meet. But I have such a great little comfort zone going on right here, why would I want to risk throwing it away for the chance of something better? But I guess that's just part of growing up.

The hardest thing about being a senior so far has not been the classes, or applying to colleges, or any of that. It has been learning that it is time to leave my comfort zone. Tomorrow at cross-country practice, it might just be my last practice ever. That's a hard concept to grasp. Cross-country has been my little security blanket. The people I have come to know so well, the amazing times and hard trials I've experienced, they have all helped me form who I am. How can I possibly say goodbye to those who have forever impacted my life? How can I say goodbye to the one thing I have been hanging onto for so long? To me, this is my Neverland. I'm Peter Pan, and this is my Neverland. I can stay here in my hometown forever just like Peter, or I can choose to grow up like Wendy and say goodbye. Unfortunately I don't have the choice like in fairytales. I do have to grow up. I do have to say goodbye. The tricky part is learning how.

Which is what brings me back to Jason Mraz. He has been my secret inspiration through surviving all of this. It's his honesty that I am so impressed with. I feel like there are so many people who are so afraid to say how they really feel, what they really think. I have no shame in my honesty. Today I asked one of my coaches, who has been with his girlfriend for five or six years, if he was going to marry her. My friend stood there in shock that I would ask such a personal question. Perhaps I should've been embarrassed, but I wasn't. Perhaps I should learn to think before I ask something like that, but in all honesty I don't see the problem. What's so wrong with being honest? What's so wrong with saying how you really feel? This is why I love writing. Whatever is floating on in my head is just forced out. I can't help it, I can't prevent it. Writing is just simply putting your honest thoughts into words. I love it.

And I love how Jason Mraz does that. I love how Jason will write about anything and everything. It seems whatever he is thinking or feeling, he is able to put into words, and I think it's really brave to be so honest. He's also been my secret role model in this process of "growing up." Jason was able to leave his little Neverland. He was able to take a risk and see what it was like to enter the real world, to really go after your dreams. I guess that's why I love his journal entries. You see how he's such a normal guy, who happened to go after a goal, and look where he is today. Perhaps I can be a normal girl, who finally gets the courage to chase her dreams, and see how far she can go in life. I think that's an optimistic way of looking at things. But thank goodness for Jason Mraz, thank goodness for honesty in writing, thank goodness for this small ounce of hope deep within me saying "chill out, it will all be okay." I guess I'm still wishing that I was Peter Pan, that I can just stay here in my Neverland. And when the time comes that I have to say goodbye, I will have some great Mraz tunes to help me get through it. Running is my cure for stress, and music is my remedy for life.

The Dead Dream

18 days. After almost 4 complete years of being on the cross-country team, I am down to only (at least) 18 days. I am trying my best not to think about it. But it's seriously freaking me out.

Running has always been the one thing I could count on. I remember in 6th grade when I tried out for Rhythm Express and I didn't make it. After crying my eyes out to my Mother when she picked me up at the front of the building, the first thing I did when I got home was change clothes, put on my sneakers, and go for a run. Running just seemed to release all my anger. For some odd reason it was the only thing I could think of doing. And it makes sense doesn't it? I didn't want to face the loss of my 6th grade dream so I literally ran away from it. Well, what do you do if you lose a dream in running? How can you run away from it, when running is the dream?

Ever since the end of last cross-country season, I have had one goal in mind: make it to regionals my senior year. It is my last opportunity, and really the first opportunity I've ever had at making it to regionals. My times are finally getting close to being fast enough. And I know I deserve it. I have worked my butt off since last season, and there is no one who can say I haven't. I showed up to every single winter conditioning practice. I was the only one who did 800 repeats with coach Meiser (I should note Hannah was doing them too until she got hurt), while everyone else went for a regular run. I have done everything to try to make myself a better runner. From giving up soda, to taking ice baths, to reading Runners World like it's the Bible, to asking my coach every possible question I could ever think of, the list goes on. I finally said to myself last year, "From now on I'm going to give running my all. I'm going to work my hardest and see how far I can really go." And I have impressed myself. I dropped about a minute in my two mile time, and I never thought I would even run the two mile. I have proved to myself just what I can achieve when I put my heart and soul into something. Well now I've got my heart and soul into running, and I'm not ready to let go.

I will be seriously disappointed if I don't make it to regionals. No, take that back, I will be devastated. After working so hard to not even make it, I don't know what I'll do with myself. I want this so bad, I don't think I've ever wanted something so bad before. And I'm not trying to sound egotistical when I say this, but I know I deserve it. I deserve regionals. I just have to prove it to everyone else.

The only thing worse than losing regionals is the one thing I'm going to lose regardless if I go to regionals or not. It is losing cross-country. Losing my team, my coach, my running. Sure, I can run on my own. Enter myself in races, set my own personal goals just for the heck of it. I could even run in college. But it can never be the same as to what I have here, right now. For once in my life, I am perfectly content with what I have. I am happy to have the life I'm living. I would seriously never trade this for anything else. Three years ago I would've. Three years ago I would've been happy to be going off to college, leaving my friends and family behind, starting my own new life. But now the time has come, and I'm not ready to give it all up. It's like there's something else here that I just haven't learned yet. There's more for me to gain, more to understand, more to live for. I have been dreaming of the chance to go off to college. For the first time in my life, that dream is dead to me.

I want to say there is a way that I could make this work. A way to have the best of both worlds. To have college and what I have here at the same time. It seems like mission impossible, but I'm praying to God there is a way that it will work. Nothing is impossible for God. I'm just not sure if what I have in mind for my life is the same God has in store for me.

I won't lie, I feel so disconnected from God right now. I don't know what He wants for me in life, but I think half the problem in that is that I don't even know what I want in my life right now. I don't know what to look forward to, what to hold onto. I just feel so confused. I've always known what I want. Why is it now that I can actually take the opportunity to get what I want, that I freeze like a deer in headlights? Another problem is because I feel so guilty when I talk to God. I'm so desperate for answers but I'm not listening to what God has to say. I'm only thinking of what I want God to say. And trust me, there is a huge difference between the two. I trust God, but I think that I'm scared of what God wants for me. Just like a parent, I feel like God is being over protective, trying to keep me out of harms way. I understand that, and it should be a comfort to know that, but at the same time it's not. You learn a lot from what you go through. I would rather learn something very important, even if it hurts me, than to remain naive about it because I'm protected. It's so complicated. God is so complicated to me. Trying to understand it all is just too complicated for me.

I want to be this young woman who can represent Christ and bring others to Him, and while I can talk about God, I feel like I can't set the example. I can say, "Do this, do that" but I can't do it. I just feel like the biggest hypocrite. Like tonight at church, someone said something about how I'm probably as perfect as Christ or something (it had to do with this grading card thing). They don't understand all my flaws and sins. I'm great at trying to be a certain type of person, but I'm not really like that. I know I'll never be perfect, but trust me, I know there's much for me to improve on, that people, even my closest friends, just don't know about. It makes me sad that people don't realize who I really am.

"And I don't want the world to see me/because I don't think that they'd understand/when everything's made to be broken/I just want you to know who I am".