Wilder than the Wind

Music, Lemons, and a Really Big Rock

2008-05-13T21:02:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you just really have to feel something for you to come to your senses. Sometimes it takes the biggest twist, the biggest turning point for you to fully grasp reality, and to just see how your life is changing. I am in the middle of a turning point right this very second. After almost two years of pondering what is going to happen, finally I am beginning to see how things just might turn out. God had to throw the biggest rock at me for me to come to my senses. And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

The situation I am talking about is the friendship I have between myself and someone else. Someone who I care very much about, someone who I look up to. Someone who I have been praying I will never lose, and yet I beginning to see that my prayers just might be answered “no.” It’s not that this person will forever walk out of my life and we’ll never be friends again. It’s just the concept that this person has their own life, and I have mine. And our lives are pulling our friendship slowly and painfully apart. And I am trying my best to save it.

The reality of letting go is just as hard as I expected. I knew a long time ago that I would one day have to face the music, and I have been dreading the sour notes of fate. The bittersweet tune of separation has become the theme song to my life, and I am tired to hearing it over and over. I am tired of trying to drown it out with happy moments and reminiscing on memories. It is a song that is constantly stuck in my head. So instead of trying to change it, I have decided to just listen to it. Just let it play through, and once it is done, it will be done forever. There is nothing I can do to change it. So I have to embrace it.

I miss this person terribly. I miss talking to them, and joking around with them. I miss laughing with them and arguing with them. I miss learning from them. I miss everything about this person. I knew this person would eventually have to go their way, and I’d have to go mine. I knew I wouldn’t like it. But it doesn’t matter if I like it or not. I have to deal with it either way.
There is the saying of “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” But sometimes you just don’t have the ingredients to make that happen. You don’t have that sweet sugar to overpower the sour taste. And you just have to drink it for what it’s worth. Take in the bitter juice, let the goosebumps run down your spine, taste every ounce of it and move on. When life gives you lemons, deal with it.

It hurts. It’s not fair. Life’s not fair. It’s life. It’s the way things are meant to be. It’s God’s will, not mine. I don’t like it, but I have to deal with it. I don’t like the theme song. I don’t like the bitter lemons I have to taste. But what is there to do? God threw a big rock at me, and it’s hit me hard. It’s left a bruise. And all there is to do, is let it heal.

Say

2008-03-05T00:06:00.001-05:00

“Living out the same old moment
Knowing you’d be better off instead

If you could only

Say what you need to say”

I am so in love with this song. Perhaps it’s just the writer in me dying to get out. Or maybe it’s because I’ve always been that shy girl who hesitates to talk because of some silly insecurities. Or maybe it’s that little optimist activist in me that just honestly believes with all her heart that you can change someone’s life based on what you say to them. Maybe it’s that little voice in me that just wants to say what it needs to say. I think it’s a little bit of all of the above.
How many times have I wished I had said something while I had the chance and then later regretted it? The perfect example of this are my two grandfathers. What’s ironic is when my second grandpa died, I saw him the day before his death, and I was able to tell him I loved him before I left. But when my first grandpa died, I didn’t get that chance to talk to him, and to this day I still cry over his death. It’s been almost a year now. And it’s killing me because I didn’t get to say what I needed to say.

If you haven’t seen the music video for “Say” by John Mayer, I urge you to watch it now. It’s based off of the movie Bucket List…yes, even just the music video makes me cry. And I think it’s because the song touches on something that we often overlook until, of course, it’s too late. Just the simple fact that we should say what we need to say to people before it’s too late. Before they’re gone and out of our lives. Or because they deserve to hear the truth. I think we often hesitate so many times on saying what we really want to say, because we’re afraid. Afraid of someone’s reactions, afraid of what they might think. Trust me, I know…remember, I was that shy geeky girl back in elementary school too afraid to speak up. I guess now I’m making up for lost time haha.

But on a serious note, I can remember the last conversation I had with my first grandfather. I remember he had called my house to speak with my mom. I answered the phone and said something along the lines of “Hi Grandpa, it’s Laura…yada yada yada.” And then he asked for my Mom and I said, “Hold on…let me get her.” So I went and gave the phone to my Mother and that was it. Those were the last words I spoke to my Grandpa. “Hold on…let me get her.” Not “I love you Grandpa,” or “I miss you,” or even, “I hope you feel better.” I never got to say what I needed to say. And my regret will haunt me for the rest of my life.

But the beautiful thing about life is when we make a mistake, we learn from it and learn not to make it again. I can’t hate myself for not saying what I needed to say. I had no idea at the time that that would be the last time I would speak with Grandpa. But I learned something I had never understood before. I realized how things don’t last forever, and that the opportunity to say what you really need to say, doesn’t last forever either.

This song is a constant reminder to me to not take time for granted. It’s more than just “say what you need to say,” it’s a reminder that life is precious, and you won’t have it forever. And even more importantly, how precious the people around you are, and how you won’t have them forever either.

“Have no fear for giving inHave no fear for giving over

You better know that in the end its better to say too much

Than to never to say what you need to say again”

It’s better to say too much, than to never say what you need to say again. So if I sound like a babbling idiot for the moment, it’s because my heart is hanging onto these words. I refuse to let what happened between my grandfather and I occur again. As geeky as this may sound, I have a “Say” list. A list of people in my life in which I still have something to say to them. I won’t lie…there are a few people on this list that I am absolutely terrified to tell them what I’m really feeling. But when I think of it in the big picture, a little humiliation for the moment will save me from a lifetime of regret.

I encourage anyone who reads this to at least take what I’m saying into consideration. Think about your life, and the people in it. Think of what would happen if you never saw them again, would you have said everything you needed to say? I feel like a broken record, but it’s as simple as the lyrics…

“Say what you need to say”.

God, I Feel Like I'm Six Years Old Again

2008-01-14T23:09:00.000-05:00

Remember when you were a little kid and life was just, well, perfect? When everything was just simple fun? I remember that I use to just go outside and play for hours and hours. I would play on the swing set with my sisters. We'd have competitions of who could jump the farthest off the swing. Or I would be busy perfecting my gymnastic moves on the monkey bars and rings. And if I wasn't on the swing set, I would be playing something else. Sometimes it was shooting a few hoops, or playing with my Barbie dolls. In any case though, whatever it was I was doing, I always seemed to have a blast. It was just simple fun, and I loved every minute of it.

Recently I have been missing that simple fun. I've been missing enjoying life for every minute that I've been blessed with. Missing the freedom and stress-free life that comes with being a kid. My psychology professor even mentioned once that high school seniors tend to regress. Instead of acting like the mature adults they should be preparing themselves to be, they do a back loop and tend to shrink back into the shadows of childhood. I felt like I was heading in that direction. And this weekend, I was blessed with it. This weekend I had the simple fun I had when I was 6 years old. This weekend I got to go 12 years back in time and enjoy life for what it is really worth.

This weekend I had simple fun. I forgot about school, and work, and running, and the stresses of picking a college and the "future" and learned to live in the moment again. I opened up to random strangers and had a blast getting to know other Lutheran teens in my small group. I wandered through the woods with my sister and was reminded of the beauty of nature, even when it looks as if winter has stolen life away, it is still beautiful. Jenna and I skipped down dirt roads singing at the top of our lungs just because we could. I danced like nobody's watching, even if it did probably make me look like an idiot. I had fun being me again. I was reminded how sweet life can be sometimes, how it doesn't take the world to make me happy. All it takes is God.

I have been trying to avoid God, trying to push Him to the back seat and take over the wheel again. I tried to push life in the direction that I want it to be. Take that back, I didn't just try, I literally fought with having things done "my will" instead of His. And what I found by doing that I'm only making things worse. Only stressing more, only worrying and wondering if I am doing the right thing. I was making myself miserable because I was so afraid of God's plan. Then I heard two songs this weekend that completely changed my mind and heart.

Let's just say Peder Eide is amazing, and if you should ever have the chance to hear him play you need to go. Not should go, need to go. Because this guy is able to communicate what it is really like about having a relationship with Christ through songs, and you can just see it when he plays the fire in his soul he has for God. Seeing someone worship God like that is just as inspirational as hearing it. And there were specifically two songs he sang that just hit me like a brick wall. About ignoring Him no more, and that I worship Him not for His mighty acts, but because He is God. It really put me in my place this weekend. I am not the driver of my life, God is. I need to hand over the keys, scoot on over to shot gun, and just enjoy the ride.

All in all, I felt like my prayers were answered this weekend. I felt like God let me have my fun, gave me the chance to be a little kid again. And I remembered what it felt like to have God back in my life, that He's not trying to fight me, but He's on my side. Having God in my life doesn't just make me feel like a little kid again. It made everything feel the way it's suppose to be; enjoying life for every moment, and enjoying it because I love Jesus, and He loves me.

The Lifetime Consequence

2007-12-19T19:12:00.000-05:00

I have to confess...the first thing I did when I logged on to the internet was head straight to my favorite media source, You Tube, and google the words "Jamie Spears pregnant". And for a good twenty minutes I sat there in my comatose state of consciousness, mindlessly watching video after video of "news" confirming what I already knew was true. It was addictive. I couldn't help but watching it all over and over. And then out of no where it kind of struck me like a brick in the face. Why the heck do I care if Jamie Spears is pregnant?

I'll be honest. I don't care for the Spears family much at all, but I do like Britney's music. Her song "Gimme More" is a pretty skanky song, but I listen to it. And while hearing about Britney's latest court decisions or her new buzz cut is pretty entertaining, I really don't care. I don't pay that much attention to her, nonetheless her sister. Actually, now that I think about it, I never paid attention to Jamie at all. I don't watch her tv show "Zoey 101" and other than knowing that she is 16 years old and related to Britney, I really know nothing about her, and certainly never cared if I did. So why all of a sudden when she's pregnant, I do?

I guess there are some logical answers. First of all, I always had the idea that she was heading in a good direction. She had her own career going, and I assumed after seeing all of Britney's mistakes she would do her best to take care of her life. Apparently I was wrong. It is kind of shocking to hear how such a star who seems so sweet and innocent could wind up pregnant at the age of 16. Kind of like Vanessa Hudgens and her nude pics. I mean, she's a Disney channel heroine, playing one of the main roles in two of Disney's biggest movies, and she knows she has young girls looking up to her. I guess I just kind of compared Jamie to someone like Miley Cyrus. I mean, Hannah Montana is the same age as Zoey, and her show is reaching out to millions of young girls. And when I mean young, I mean young. Most of her audience at Hannah Montana concerts are like 5 years old. If Zoey was a famous singer like Hannah Montana (which, being related to Britney Spears, could be a possibility), she would have young girls that age showing up to her concerts too.

Second reason is the simplest one: because she is only 16 years old. And the father is her "long term" boyfriend of 19 years. Which kind of makes me wonder, at the age of 16, do you have long term relationships? Long term to me is like, 2 or 3 years. Obviously the term "long term" has some pretty flexible boundaries. I mean, the average high school relationship lasts 3 months, so I guess doubling that might lead you to believe it's long term. Anyways, it's not the point. What is the point is that she is so young. She had her whole life ahead of her, and she kinda just threw it all away. For me it's not so much "Oh my gosh, she's pregnant what a skank!" To me it screams, "This poor girl, I sympathize for her, she's just too young."

I can't condemn Jamie, and even if I could I wouldn't. I'm not perfect, I have my own flaws and mistakes, so I'm not going to criticize her for hers. She admits that premarital sex was a bad idea, and I can bet you most teen parents would probably say the same. It's kind of funny to me because there are plenty of 16 year olds out there who are pregnant. Jamie's not the first, and she certainly isn't the last. But because she is famous, because people look to her as an idol, we get upset to see that she is imperfect, she is human.

What I am hoping to see out of this is that our culture needs to change, or at least take a step toward change. The abstinence idea isn't working. What needs to occur is for teens to realize when sex is appropriate, like when you're really in love, and how to stay protected. That's the whole idea behind saving yourself for marriage, that you're saving that intimate moment for the one you truly love. If you're not ready to commit your life to whoever your with, then you're not ready to have sex with them. Because look at the outcomes. If you, (or if you're a guy, your girlfriend) ends up pregnant, you're all of a sudden committed to the rest of their life anyway. Not meaning you have to marry them or anything, but you need to take part in raising the child. And I could go on, but you get the picture.

My point to all of this is, I hope Jamie's pregnancy doesn't have a negative influence, but a positive one. I hope this motivates people to learn what it is we need to do to prevent teen pregnancy, and to teach young adults when they're ready for sex, and if they are ready, how to stay protected. My fear is that if this doesn't happen, it's only going to be an encouragement to young girls to follow what their idols are doing, and to me that would be tragic. Because, I'm older than Jamie and I barely know what I'm doing with my life, I can't imagine having to plan for myself and my baby. I have a friend who is a teen mother, and all her dreams are changed now that she has a daughter. It's devastating to me to hear how her goals for college and everything are changed, all because of one simple mistake. It's a mistake with a consequence that lasts for a lifetime. And it's because of all this that I care about Jamie Spears being pregnant.

"Oh Sweetheart"

2007-12-12T13:36:00.000-05:00

Finally...some downtime to blog. I haven't been able to post anything just because I don't have time anymore. I can't wait til the day when this is actually my profession, and I can make a living off of writing. Until then, I'll blog :)

A lot has happened since I last posted. Let's see...well, I started working at Steve & Barry's (again). Definitely loving it much more since I quit working at Bob Evans. Let me tell you something...waitressing, is hard. Really hard. And it's especially frustrating when you're new and you're trying your best just to learn everything, but it's so complex. I couldn't remember which fruit came with the bowl or with the cup! And what was worse is that your paycheck depends on the customer's happiness. Now, I like to think I'm a friendly sweet girl, and I thought for once my caring attitude would pay off. In a way it did, but in many other ways it didn't. Just being inexperienced and a new waitress lost me a lot in tips. And I really did learn how picky people could be. The grouchiness I put up with with the Steve and Barry's customers is nothing now...especially when I don't have to be nice back :P I've learned I hate having to put up with attitudes and not being able to dish it back. I'm not that type of person who will let someone walk over me or try to bring me down without a fight. Therefore, I am definitely not waitress material.

What else...I also went to Pittsburgh a few weekends ago. It was so awesome, but so very sad. My Mom and I stayed at my grandparents house. It's completely gutted out, and very lonesome to be in. The only thing that really stayed the same was the bedroom my sisters and I stayed in. It still has the two beds, the window with the pink shaded curtain, same old slanted walls and ocean blue carpet. But it's certainly not the same. And that's very disappointing to me. Pittsburgh has always been so special because of the family and memories I have there. Well, I've lost two people I've loved most, and the memories are all I have left.

My grandfather passed away early April this year. It was my first death that I've ever had to deal with. What was especially hard though, surprisingly, was not my grandpap's death but seeing my grandma. It had been about a year since I had seen her, and her alzheimer's had grown worse. It was tough, because she didn't look like herself, and she barely remembered us. i ran away at first and snuck into the bathroom to hide. I've never felt such a mix of anger and confusion and denial. Since then it has gotten easier to visit her, but it's still very tough.

The last time my Mom and I visited her that weekend my Mom started crying. I was holding myself pretty strong, I had accepted the fact that things were different now and I just had to deal with it. That's life, isn't it? But then when we were going to leave I bent to give her a hug and she looked me dead in the eye and said very sweetly, "Oh Sweetheart." I started crying, because it felt like for that brief moment she was there. For the one second she knew who I was, and understood my pain. It was like her eyes were saying, "Oh sweetheart, I know who you are, I know this is tough. I know you hate seeing me like this, I know I have alzheimers and everything is different now." It basically felt that for the one brief moment she understood everything, and I felt that just for one second she remembered she was my grandma, and she was looking at me like always use to.

I don't know if that moment is true. I know it happened, I know she called me sweetheart, but I don't know if it happened the way I think it did. I don't know. She doesn't know. Even if she did, she couldn't tell me. The only one who does know is God. And that's okay. Because I believe what happened for just one second, and I don't need to know the truth, whether I am right or wrong. The moment was bittersweet, probably one I will never forget. It reminded me of all the sweet memories we have together, and it also reminded me of the reality of it all. The tough reality I have tried my maturest to face. But I still can't deny how much it hurts.

I believe somewhere down deep inside she stills knows who I am. Knows I am her granddaughter, her only daughter's first born, named after her mother and her husband's mother. I believe she stills knows me, and she still loves me, whether her mind will allow it or not. It's astounishes me how complex we are. How we are so much more than what our physiological senses leave us to believe. Have you not ever looked into someone eyes and could tell what they were feeling? Have you never looked into someone eyes and felt like you were peering into their soul? That's what it was like when I looked into my grandma's eyes. That's somewhere deep inside it's all okay. After this life, it's all okay.

Hello Autumn and a Year Gone By

2007-11-23T02:22:00.000-05:00

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 :)

Qualifying to Districts - A Runner's Story

2007-11-10T14:56:00.000-05:00

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.

Merry Christmas and Happy Halloween

2007-11-09T13:42:00.000-05:00

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 finished the race, I have kept the faith

2007-11-08T17:32:00.000-05:00

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.

Who dey? We dey

2007-10-28T15:28:00.001-04:00

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

2007-10-26T17:48:00.000-04:00

"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)

2007-10-23T21:18:00.000-04:00

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

2007-10-18T20:54:00.000-04:00

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

2007-10-07T21:51:00.000-04:00

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".