I finally woke up this morning and realized it was fall. I'm not sure why it hit me today, but it did. I think it was because when I looked out my window and saw that my trees in the backyard are completely bare. No colorful leaves decorating there branches anymore. Not even dead leaves hanging up there. Just bare, cold looking branches framing my bedroom window. It feels like winter already.
I think the reason it shocked me so much though is because this year has gone by so fast. I can't believe I'm a senior, can't believe that my final cross-country season is over. Can't believe I'm so close to going to college and I still have no clue as to where I'm going in life. All these years of thinking I wanted to be a journalist and it all changes. It's scary to realize that I don't have the complete and total control I wish I had over my life. It's time I really put my trust in God.
I was reading my journal earlier today, the very beginning of it that I started back in July of 2006. I was shocked by what I read. I knew I had changed and grown within the past year and a half, but it was reading my emotions, seeing my true, honest feelings in words on those pages that really made me realize how different I am. And just how much I've grown in over a year! To make it short, my world seemed flip-flopped. I really liked this guy who didn't turn out who I thought he was, and I hated cross-country. If you personally know me, you'd be shocked to see what I wrote. And what's so amazing about it was at the time I was writing about how I didn't know what God had in store for me, but I was trusting Him anyway. Now I realize just how much God had control over my life. I thought life was awesome back then, it's only improved by like 100%! Seriously, I am so blessed to be living the life I am. Even if it means that I'm single, or that I don't know what college I'm going to, and so on. I'm just going to put my trust in God again, and I know He's going to take me down the right path. And you can bet I'm going to blog about it the entire way :)
Friday, November 23, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Qualifying to Districts - A Runner's Story
As I stood there with my heart beating what felt like a thousand beats a minute, palms sweaty, and a gnawing pain in my stomach, there was still only one thing on my mind. The one thing that I had been looking forward to for the past year, was all of a sudden about to finally occur within the next thirty seconds. A long whistle blew. I leaned forward as steady as possible, eyes focused on the open field ahead. “Bang!”
When I woke up that morning it was unlike any morning before. I was only suppose to wake up at 8am, but for some reason I awoke an hour earlier. Although I tried to keep sleeping, my body refused to let me rest for one more hour, and thirty minutes later I awoke again, realizing what day it was and that it was time to get ready. I crawled out of bed, still trying to wrap my brain around what day it was. There on my white chair laid my red and white uniform top with the words “Fairfield Indians” written on it, and the white matching shorts to go with it. I dressed quickly, pulling the sweats over top, then began packing my duffel bag. I unzipped all the compartments and began stuffing items in, silently checking them off my mental checklist. “Spikes? Check. Water bottle? Check. Protein bar? Check. Cell phone? Check. Mp3 player? Check…” and so on. After packing the bag, I picked it up, grabbed my handbag and car keys, and headed out the door. I heard a faint “Good luck!” come from my mother as I closed the door, and I walked to my little black Sunfire and dumped my belongings in the trunk.
The high school is only about five minutes away, and for that brief moment I turned the radio on and hummed to whatever tunes were playing, desperate to keep my mind off the challenge I faced in front of me. What was the challenge? The opportunity to qualify to regionals in cross-country. For the past four years I had been dreaming of what it would be like to qualify out of the district meet, but never before had I been fast enough to achieve that dream. Now my dream was no longer a dream, but a realistic goal, waiting ahead of me. I didn’t know how my chances were though. According to mine and my competition’s P.R.s (personal records) I was right at sixteenth place. The top sixteen qualified individually to regionals, and then it was the top four teams that qualify. I didn’t know what either chances were, but I had a feeling that I better place in the top sixteen if I wanted another week of my season, because our team’s chances weren’t as great as my chances individually.
When I arrived at the high school I went inside to join my team as they sat waiting for the bus between the double glass doors. The girls were busy giving each other “Big Sis and Little Sis” gifts and swapping Good Luck cards, while the guys sat there with focused faces, their minds in another world, silently listening to their music. I plopped my stuff down on an open spot on the carpet, while my friend Shannon came over to me and handed me my pink Adidas sneakers she had borrowed earlier that week. I was about to head outside and put the shoes in my car when I could hear my coach from behind me say, “Congratulations Hollywood.” I turned around. “Congratulations what?” I replied. He looked at me and said, “For student athlete of the week. Your picture is up on the wall.” I realized what he was talking about, and said, “Oh, thank you. I haven’t even seen it yet. I’ll go look at it when I come back in.” I walked out to my car, put my shoes away, and as I started walking back into the high school my coach high fived me and said, “Congratulations on being student athlete of the week.” I walked back in and headed over to the poster up on the wall. There seven athletes’ faces, along with mine, smiled back at me, under the heading that stated: “STUDENT ATHLETES OF THE WEEK” for the month of October. I stood there and critiqued my picture. I wasn’t sure how I liked my hair. It was the first picture taken of me since I got my haircut, and I was thinking of how I liked my hair longer, when my coach came up beside me and said, “It’s a good a picture of you.” “Thanks,” I said, “I don’t like my hair though.” “Is it a senior picture?” “No, Images takes the pictures for free.” “Well, good job,” he said, “I didn’t know you were student athlete of the week.” I stood there kind of baffled, and said, “I don’t understand how you couldn’t have known I was athlete of the week. How did my name get entered?” “I don’t know,” he replied walking off to the trainer’s room, “Nobody tells me anything.” “Poor Meiser," I thought as he walked away. “He may be my coach, but technically he’s only the assistant coach and it’s Gerstner that enters names for student athlete of the week and he must not have told him about it.” I felt sincerely bad for him that he wasn’t treated with more authority since he was the reason that I improved so much and now had the opportunity to qualify to regionals. But my sympathy ended for him since the bus arrived and we all boarded on, and I sat in a seat by myself, staring out the window and listening to my mp3 player. “This might be my last bus ride to a meet,” I thought. But I forced myself to enjoy the ride. And even though it took about twenty five minutes to get there, it felt like it only took five.
Once we arrived to the meet we put our bags down, set up the tent, and then pinned our races numbers to our uniform tops. Meiser told us to watch the girl’s race A (we were race C) to get an idea of what it would be like. I followed Meiser, Andrea, and Shannon around the course, and my fellow teammates behind me, but kept my distance, not focusing too much on race A because I was more worried about my race. We headed over to the finish line, and Meiser stopped me and said, “See what time the sixteenth girl finishes in, then start your warm up for about fifteen minutes.” I nodded my head and went and stood next to Shannon at the finish line. We watched as girls began passing, counting out loud with place they were coming in. When we reached the sixteenth girl, we looked at the clock for her time, and saw it was about 20:30. Shannon turned and grinned at me. We both knew we could beat that time. But I smiled and said, “I don’t want to think too much about it, our race could be different.” So we started our warm-up, and I set my mp3 player to repeat on the song “You Only Get What You Give” by the Radicals.
The next thirty minutes went by in a flash. I had my mom, my dad, other parents, my coach, my sister, etc. all come over and wish me luck. Although they meant well, their words weren’t much comfort to me. Before I knew it, I was at the starting line, stretching, running a few stride outs, my nerves kicking into over-drive. My friend Lauren came over to me to wish me luck, and by then I had silent tears streaming down my cheeks, and it was clear that the fear of failure was written on my face. Lauren gave me a warm smile and then prayed for me. Suddenly it was time to line up. I stood there at the starting line and said a little prayer for myself. I told God that He was the one who gave me the gift of running, I wanted to take this opportunity and give it back to Him. Then that long whistle blew. I leaned forward as steady as possible, eyes focused on the open field ahead. “Bang!”
The next nineteen minutes and fifty-three seconds of my life were the best minutes of running I had ever experienced. I was able to get up into fourth place and just hold on. As I passed through the first mile and second mile I knew I had runners behind me, but I was too afraid to look back, for fear that there just might be a mob of thirteen runners ready to sail pass me and put me in a disqualifying seventeenth place. I held on for as long as possible, and kept thinking to myself, “Nobody wants this more than you do. Nobody!” When the final 800 meters came, three girls caught up and out kicked me. I finished happily in seventh place.
Never in my life had I wanted something so bad, something I worked so hard for. Never had I had a goal that made me cry because I wanted it so bad. Qualifying to regionals was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had in life. Learning that when I put my heart and soul and determination into something that I can achieve it is a lesson I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
When I woke up that morning it was unlike any morning before. I was only suppose to wake up at 8am, but for some reason I awoke an hour earlier. Although I tried to keep sleeping, my body refused to let me rest for one more hour, and thirty minutes later I awoke again, realizing what day it was and that it was time to get ready. I crawled out of bed, still trying to wrap my brain around what day it was. There on my white chair laid my red and white uniform top with the words “Fairfield Indians” written on it, and the white matching shorts to go with it. I dressed quickly, pulling the sweats over top, then began packing my duffel bag. I unzipped all the compartments and began stuffing items in, silently checking them off my mental checklist. “Spikes? Check. Water bottle? Check. Protein bar? Check. Cell phone? Check. Mp3 player? Check…” and so on. After packing the bag, I picked it up, grabbed my handbag and car keys, and headed out the door. I heard a faint “Good luck!” come from my mother as I closed the door, and I walked to my little black Sunfire and dumped my belongings in the trunk.
The high school is only about five minutes away, and for that brief moment I turned the radio on and hummed to whatever tunes were playing, desperate to keep my mind off the challenge I faced in front of me. What was the challenge? The opportunity to qualify to regionals in cross-country. For the past four years I had been dreaming of what it would be like to qualify out of the district meet, but never before had I been fast enough to achieve that dream. Now my dream was no longer a dream, but a realistic goal, waiting ahead of me. I didn’t know how my chances were though. According to mine and my competition’s P.R.s (personal records) I was right at sixteenth place. The top sixteen qualified individually to regionals, and then it was the top four teams that qualify. I didn’t know what either chances were, but I had a feeling that I better place in the top sixteen if I wanted another week of my season, because our team’s chances weren’t as great as my chances individually.
When I arrived at the high school I went inside to join my team as they sat waiting for the bus between the double glass doors. The girls were busy giving each other “Big Sis and Little Sis” gifts and swapping Good Luck cards, while the guys sat there with focused faces, their minds in another world, silently listening to their music. I plopped my stuff down on an open spot on the carpet, while my friend Shannon came over to me and handed me my pink Adidas sneakers she had borrowed earlier that week. I was about to head outside and put the shoes in my car when I could hear my coach from behind me say, “Congratulations Hollywood.” I turned around. “Congratulations what?” I replied. He looked at me and said, “For student athlete of the week. Your picture is up on the wall.” I realized what he was talking about, and said, “Oh, thank you. I haven’t even seen it yet. I’ll go look at it when I come back in.” I walked out to my car, put my shoes away, and as I started walking back into the high school my coach high fived me and said, “Congratulations on being student athlete of the week.” I walked back in and headed over to the poster up on the wall. There seven athletes’ faces, along with mine, smiled back at me, under the heading that stated: “STUDENT ATHLETES OF THE WEEK” for the month of October. I stood there and critiqued my picture. I wasn’t sure how I liked my hair. It was the first picture taken of me since I got my haircut, and I was thinking of how I liked my hair longer, when my coach came up beside me and said, “It’s a good a picture of you.” “Thanks,” I said, “I don’t like my hair though.” “Is it a senior picture?” “No, Images takes the pictures for free.” “Well, good job,” he said, “I didn’t know you were student athlete of the week.” I stood there kind of baffled, and said, “I don’t understand how you couldn’t have known I was athlete of the week. How did my name get entered?” “I don’t know,” he replied walking off to the trainer’s room, “Nobody tells me anything.” “Poor Meiser," I thought as he walked away. “He may be my coach, but technically he’s only the assistant coach and it’s Gerstner that enters names for student athlete of the week and he must not have told him about it.” I felt sincerely bad for him that he wasn’t treated with more authority since he was the reason that I improved so much and now had the opportunity to qualify to regionals. But my sympathy ended for him since the bus arrived and we all boarded on, and I sat in a seat by myself, staring out the window and listening to my mp3 player. “This might be my last bus ride to a meet,” I thought. But I forced myself to enjoy the ride. And even though it took about twenty five minutes to get there, it felt like it only took five.
Once we arrived to the meet we put our bags down, set up the tent, and then pinned our races numbers to our uniform tops. Meiser told us to watch the girl’s race A (we were race C) to get an idea of what it would be like. I followed Meiser, Andrea, and Shannon around the course, and my fellow teammates behind me, but kept my distance, not focusing too much on race A because I was more worried about my race. We headed over to the finish line, and Meiser stopped me and said, “See what time the sixteenth girl finishes in, then start your warm up for about fifteen minutes.” I nodded my head and went and stood next to Shannon at the finish line. We watched as girls began passing, counting out loud with place they were coming in. When we reached the sixteenth girl, we looked at the clock for her time, and saw it was about 20:30. Shannon turned and grinned at me. We both knew we could beat that time. But I smiled and said, “I don’t want to think too much about it, our race could be different.” So we started our warm-up, and I set my mp3 player to repeat on the song “You Only Get What You Give” by the Radicals.
The next thirty minutes went by in a flash. I had my mom, my dad, other parents, my coach, my sister, etc. all come over and wish me luck. Although they meant well, their words weren’t much comfort to me. Before I knew it, I was at the starting line, stretching, running a few stride outs, my nerves kicking into over-drive. My friend Lauren came over to me to wish me luck, and by then I had silent tears streaming down my cheeks, and it was clear that the fear of failure was written on my face. Lauren gave me a warm smile and then prayed for me. Suddenly it was time to line up. I stood there at the starting line and said a little prayer for myself. I told God that He was the one who gave me the gift of running, I wanted to take this opportunity and give it back to Him. Then that long whistle blew. I leaned forward as steady as possible, eyes focused on the open field ahead. “Bang!”
The next nineteen minutes and fifty-three seconds of my life were the best minutes of running I had ever experienced. I was able to get up into fourth place and just hold on. As I passed through the first mile and second mile I knew I had runners behind me, but I was too afraid to look back, for fear that there just might be a mob of thirteen runners ready to sail pass me and put me in a disqualifying seventeenth place. I held on for as long as possible, and kept thinking to myself, “Nobody wants this more than you do. Nobody!” When the final 800 meters came, three girls caught up and out kicked me. I finished happily in seventh place.
Never in my life had I wanted something so bad, something I worked so hard for. Never had I had a goal that made me cry because I wanted it so bad. Qualifying to regionals was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had in life. Learning that when I put my heart and soul and determination into something that I can achieve it is a lesson I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Merry Christmas and Happy Halloween
If there's one thing I'm determined to do this upcoming December, it's to celebrate Christmas like a four year old kid who believes in Santa Clause. Last year I missed Christmas. If you ever read the book "Skipping Christmas" that was basically me last year, except it was all unintentional. I wanted to deck out the halls, hang ornaments on the Christmas tree, help bake some delicious Christmas cookies, and dance around my house singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs, but I didn't. Instead I was at work, dealing with the hundreds of grinches coming through my line. I had no idea that people could be such downers at Christmas. But I guess when you're spending hundreds of dollars on your kids or grandkids or nieces and nephews or spouse or parents or any other random family member you can think of, I guess it would kind of put you in a negative mood. However this year I'm absolutely determined to beat that. This year I'm going to get excited about Christmas. I'm going to listen to the songs on the radio, wear my comfy red Santa hat, and be bold enough to say Merry Christmas to customers even if it gets me in trouble. I mean, come on now. We all know everyone is in line to buy Christmas gifts, why should I be banned from at least wishing them a Merry Christmas? Why do we have to let such a joyful holiday be so political? (Sigh) America, sometimes you really disappoint me.
I have even more motivation to be Santa's little helper, mostly for the fact I just missed one of my favorite Holidays. I'm not sure how I missed it, but I did. Halloween just slipped through my fingers. I did absolutely nothing to celebrate Halloween. Nothing! I didn't carve a pumpkin or put any decorations up. I didn't go driving through my neighborhood to look at any scary decorations. I didn't wear my little black dress with my witch's hat and pass out candy with my cat. Didn't go to any Halloween parties. Didn't watch any scary movies (except for Stephen King's IT, which even though it was pretty stupid, still gave me odd nightmares). I didn't even have my traditional viewing of "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" You know when you missed watching The Peanuts there's something wrong.
So in order to celebrate Christmas this year I have devised a list of things to do to make sure I won't miss out on any of the Holiday fun...
1. Sing and listen to Christmas carols. This one's first because it is the essence to true Holiday spirit. You know how a song can put you in the best of moods even if you're having the worst day ever? Same applies. Music is magical, and that's why it's first.
2. Get Christmas shopping done EARLY. Christmas shopping can be stressful, and after having to work at a retail store during Christmas, I realize I don't want to be another Grinch in line. Plus it'll be one less worry.
3. Help decorate the Christmas tree. Every ornament on my tree usually has a story behind it, and most of the ornaments have been hung on my tree since I was a baby. Decorating the tree is tradition. This year, I won't miss it.
4. Decorate my room.
5. Eat plenty of Candy Canes. They may not be good for my teeth, but these are full of delicious minty sweetness...how can I pass them up?
6. Go Caroling with my friends. We may not sound the best, but we'll have fun.
7. Bake Christmas cookies. There's something so childlike and playful about cutting that sweet cookie dough with cute holiday cutters.
8. Attend the Christmas Eve service at my church. My favorite service to attend. Love it.
9. Kiss someone underneath a mistletoe. Let's hope by then I'll have someone I can kiss ;)
10. Watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I saved the best for last.
That oughta keep me busy. I might think up some more. As for now, let me go hum myself some Christmas tunes while I clean my room.
I have even more motivation to be Santa's little helper, mostly for the fact I just missed one of my favorite Holidays. I'm not sure how I missed it, but I did. Halloween just slipped through my fingers. I did absolutely nothing to celebrate Halloween. Nothing! I didn't carve a pumpkin or put any decorations up. I didn't go driving through my neighborhood to look at any scary decorations. I didn't wear my little black dress with my witch's hat and pass out candy with my cat. Didn't go to any Halloween parties. Didn't watch any scary movies (except for Stephen King's IT, which even though it was pretty stupid, still gave me odd nightmares). I didn't even have my traditional viewing of "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" You know when you missed watching The Peanuts there's something wrong.
So in order to celebrate Christmas this year I have devised a list of things to do to make sure I won't miss out on any of the Holiday fun...
1. Sing and listen to Christmas carols. This one's first because it is the essence to true Holiday spirit. You know how a song can put you in the best of moods even if you're having the worst day ever? Same applies. Music is magical, and that's why it's first.
2. Get Christmas shopping done EARLY. Christmas shopping can be stressful, and after having to work at a retail store during Christmas, I realize I don't want to be another Grinch in line. Plus it'll be one less worry.
3. Help decorate the Christmas tree. Every ornament on my tree usually has a story behind it, and most of the ornaments have been hung on my tree since I was a baby. Decorating the tree is tradition. This year, I won't miss it.
4. Decorate my room.
5. Eat plenty of Candy Canes. They may not be good for my teeth, but these are full of delicious minty sweetness...how can I pass them up?
6. Go Caroling with my friends. We may not sound the best, but we'll have fun.
7. Bake Christmas cookies. There's something so childlike and playful about cutting that sweet cookie dough with cute holiday cutters.
8. Attend the Christmas Eve service at my church. My favorite service to attend. Love it.
9. Kiss someone underneath a mistletoe. Let's hope by then I'll have someone I can kiss ;)
10. Watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I saved the best for last.
That oughta keep me busy. I might think up some more. As for now, let me go hum myself some Christmas tunes while I clean my room.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
I have finished the race, I have kept the faith
Tragedy has struck the running world. Admired athlete and talented runner, Ryan Shay has passed away. What is so terribly ironic about it, is that he died while running. Had a heart attack at the 5th mile of the Olympic Marathon Trials. The man was only 28 years old. Only 28 years old.
It's hard to grasp something so terrible, so terrifying. How I felt so bad for the poor woman who had to announce his death. And the three runners that will be running in the marathon, they broke down in tears as well. I don't know how I would feel if I were in their shoes. They looked up to the man as an influence, a hero. He helped pave their way to success. To be sitting there in your triumph and glory one moment, the next you find out your hero is dead. It's absolutely tragic. I don't know how you handle that.
Some may find the phrase disgusting, but I am intending to use this in the best of context, that at least he died doing something he loved. There was no doubt that it shouldn't have happened, and I'm not trying to influence that perhaps that makes up for the loss. No, I'm not using it as a band aid to cover up the bruise most of the running world is feeling right now. I'm saying, although I do not wish to die at this young age, if I had to pick how to die, I would choose to die while running. Running sets me free. When I run, I feel unstoppable. I feel confident, strong, and yes, beautiful, even with the sweat dripping down my face. There is something exhilarating about running. It's one of the best feelings in the world. I would chose for it to be the last feeling I could feel.
Ryan will be so very missed. His influence on the running world is one that will stand the tests of time. Steve Prefontaine passed away in the seventies at the young age of 24. To this day, we still remember him. And in thirty years and more from now, we will still remember Ryan Shay.
It's hard to grasp something so terrible, so terrifying. How I felt so bad for the poor woman who had to announce his death. And the three runners that will be running in the marathon, they broke down in tears as well. I don't know how I would feel if I were in their shoes. They looked up to the man as an influence, a hero. He helped pave their way to success. To be sitting there in your triumph and glory one moment, the next you find out your hero is dead. It's absolutely tragic. I don't know how you handle that.
Some may find the phrase disgusting, but I am intending to use this in the best of context, that at least he died doing something he loved. There was no doubt that it shouldn't have happened, and I'm not trying to influence that perhaps that makes up for the loss. No, I'm not using it as a band aid to cover up the bruise most of the running world is feeling right now. I'm saying, although I do not wish to die at this young age, if I had to pick how to die, I would choose to die while running. Running sets me free. When I run, I feel unstoppable. I feel confident, strong, and yes, beautiful, even with the sweat dripping down my face. There is something exhilarating about running. It's one of the best feelings in the world. I would chose for it to be the last feeling I could feel.
Ryan will be so very missed. His influence on the running world is one that will stand the tests of time. Steve Prefontaine passed away in the seventies at the young age of 24. To this day, we still remember him. And in thirty years and more from now, we will still remember Ryan Shay.
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