Wednesday, November 23, 2011
In Defense of Harry Potter
What else would you have define it? Jersey Shore, Teen Mom or any other ridiculous and embarrassing TV shows? The current economic crisis? Decreased marriage rates and rising suicide occurrence? Faceook/Myspace/Twitter? It is true that there are great technological and scientific advancements that could also "define" our generation, and I would whole-heartedly agree with such sentiments. But saying that Harry Potter defines a generation does not mean to the exclusion of those things.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Marathon
I have realized recently that my masochistic streak may be getting out of hand. I say this because a little over a month ago, I ran a full marathon. I have never been a fan of running-in fact it has been one of my least favorite activities since I was little. Although I could probably link this to a few rather terrible experiences on junior league soccer teams, I have never cared to develop the talent or skill of a runner.
However, when my brother ran the St. George Marathon after he came home from his mission, it inspired me to try. I do have to admit that part of it was because I couldn't stand to be one-upped by him either. Having zero experience in training to run period, let alone train for an endurance event, it was a quite a journey for the first few forays I made into running. I entered my name in the lottery for the St. George Marathon the following summer(2009), and was not selected. As I had just begun my training regimen, and was not liking it very much, I wasn't heartbroken to be handed an excuse to stop.
Alas, I had another friend plan to try again for the next summer (2010) as well, and I began a much more serious attempt to articulate a schedule and diet plan. As fate would have it, I was selected to participate in the SGM that summer, and jumped head first into it. I was not prepared, and was taking a full course of summer classes while working full time. I was miserable, and after consulting with my parents, I decided to drop out. I felt like a failure. I don't quit anything I start, if I can help it.
All of this brings me to about last February (2011). Having officially added "run a marathon" to my bucket list the previous year, and with the fresh and painful humiliation (in my perspective) of having to quit the year before, I was once again contemplating a marathon. Ironically enough, in the intervening time I had never really kept up any sort of running training or entered myself in other events. It never occurred to me that this would be the intelligent and most helpful course of action during the interim.
I found a training buddy and, with the help of the internet and several expert opinions, I came up with a 27 week training plan that allowed me to start from scratch. By the time I could enter the lottery (for the third year in a row) I was just starting to hit my stride in the programs and was experiencing my first real "long runs." I feel the need to reiterate my feelings towards running at this point. They are still the same as they were 4 years ago. I don't like running, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to force myself out of bed, early in the morning to train. But I was far enough into the plan that I wanted to finish what I had started. But silly, naive little me: I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.
When I was not picked in the lottery, I found myself in a dire situation. I needed to find a full marathon that wasn't half-way across the country that I could run in that fit into a 2 week window I had planned into my schedule. In a stroke of perfect luck, I found the Layton Marathon, which was exactly a week after St. George. With a little bit of wiggling I was able to readjust my training schedule to accommodate the change, and I keep moving forward.
Unfortunately, that is the best that could be said for some of my runs. I finished them. When I started hitting distances like 15, 16, 17, it literally became my goal simply to finish the distance, be it at a run, jog, walk or crawl. Fortunately, I never had to crawl home, but there were times when I wished I could have. I sacrificed sleeping and other creature comforts that I had grown to love over the summer that I couldn't otherwise indulge in during school. I finally began to understand what all of my long distance runner friends meant about how disgusting their feet were. At one point, I had blisters on every toe of both of my feet. Sometimes there would be blisters on top of blisters. )It took quite a while of this before I realized that cotton socks are the devil!)
My family thought I was crazy, but they supported me anyway. Even when it meant I had to miss out on things and went running when we were on vacation. By the time I started tapering, my body still hated me for running, but I was much better than when I started. As is my luck, on my last long run (20 miles) I was nearly unable to complete it--my left knee hurt so bad by the time I finished I was limping. After tapering and freaking out for two weeks that I was actually going to have to run 26.2 miles, I found that my race day had come at last.
I had to meet up to catch a bus to the place we had to meet to catch a bus to the start line at 4:30 AM. I guess it was a good think I had been awake since 3 AM. It was freezing cold and rainy driving all the way out to Antelope Island to the start, and I realized during the 40 minute ride (during which they got lost at least twice and had to turn around) that the only way I was getting of this dreary and smelly island was to run the 26.2 miles back. I was officially past the point of no return.
As a small blessing, I made friends with the woman who I sat next to on the bus. She turned out to be an experienced marathoner who had even run St. George the week before. With her assurances that I would do fine, she graciously kept me company as we stood in the freezing drizzle for 45 min. I find it incredibly ironic that a group of people who are planning on running 26.2 miles are made to stand around for nearly an hour before the beginning of the race. Great way to save your legs....
We parted ways with a quick hug and wished each other luck as the race began. And thus I commenced what would become the most challenging experience of my life (to that point). It was monotonous and etched with lake stink, and the gray sky did nothing to lift my mood. I did reasonably well until I reached the halfway point. To realize that I was only halfway done at that point was disheartening and only served to increased my bad mood which was creeping up with the return of my knee pain. This pain got worse and worse until it became almost unbearable, ~17.5 miles into the race. My pace slowed to a pitiful jog/walk and I watched others I had self-righteously judged myself to finish before now pass me. As I neared the 20 mile mark, I hit what could only be "the wall." As I hadn't encountered it in my long runs before, I had no idea what to expect. I was freezing cold, wet, exhausted, starving, light-headed, and all I wanted to do was sit down and cry.
I may be a crazy, enthusiastic, slightly spastic, masochistic, and borderline insane, but I am not a quitter. So I did not give up, but kept putting one foot in front of the other, crying the whole time. When my parents drove by to cheer me on, I think I yelled at them to go away. I knew if they stayed even a second more, I would crumble and tell them to take me home while I tried to forget that I had ever had this crazy idea to run a marathon. I guess they took the hint, because I finished the race without another sight of them.
When I rounded the corner in to the park, and the finish line was in sight, I blasted the most pump-up song I could find on my play list and tried to run. My knee almost gave out twice. I couldn't hear a thing when I finally crossed under the arch, but according to my mom, they announcer over the loud speaker who I was, and that I was finishing my first full marathon. At that point I didn't really care. I took the medal they handed me and literally collapsed on my mother, sobbing.
I managed to hobble to the first aid tent, where they gave me a big bag of ice for my knee, and it was all a blur going home. I do remember asking my dad to stop for Arby's--I got curly fries. It was the first time I had eaten anything from a fast food restaurant in close to a year. Apparently in my delirium I made a comment to athletic trainer on how I couldn't believe that people chose to do this for fun. With my experience, I vehemently stated that I would never do it again.
Since then, I have received some treatment for my knee (severe IT band syndrome and popliteal tendonitis), and might be able to start training again soon. Its funny, but I find that I miss running just a little. But I have a hard time owning to it, and will deny it if you ask.
So, in the end, I was able to cross "run a marathon" off my bucket list. I told myself that this was a once-in-a-lifetime thing that I NEVER wanted to do again.....which means I'll probably talk myself into running another one next summer.
However, when my brother ran the St. George Marathon after he came home from his mission, it inspired me to try. I do have to admit that part of it was because I couldn't stand to be one-upped by him either. Having zero experience in training to run period, let alone train for an endurance event, it was a quite a journey for the first few forays I made into running. I entered my name in the lottery for the St. George Marathon the following summer(2009), and was not selected. As I had just begun my training regimen, and was not liking it very much, I wasn't heartbroken to be handed an excuse to stop.
Alas, I had another friend plan to try again for the next summer (2010) as well, and I began a much more serious attempt to articulate a schedule and diet plan. As fate would have it, I was selected to participate in the SGM that summer, and jumped head first into it. I was not prepared, and was taking a full course of summer classes while working full time. I was miserable, and after consulting with my parents, I decided to drop out. I felt like a failure. I don't quit anything I start, if I can help it.
All of this brings me to about last February (2011). Having officially added "run a marathon" to my bucket list the previous year, and with the fresh and painful humiliation (in my perspective) of having to quit the year before, I was once again contemplating a marathon. Ironically enough, in the intervening time I had never really kept up any sort of running training or entered myself in other events. It never occurred to me that this would be the intelligent and most helpful course of action during the interim.
I found a training buddy and, with the help of the internet and several expert opinions, I came up with a 27 week training plan that allowed me to start from scratch. By the time I could enter the lottery (for the third year in a row) I was just starting to hit my stride in the programs and was experiencing my first real "long runs." I feel the need to reiterate my feelings towards running at this point. They are still the same as they were 4 years ago. I don't like running, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to force myself out of bed, early in the morning to train. But I was far enough into the plan that I wanted to finish what I had started. But silly, naive little me: I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into.
When I was not picked in the lottery, I found myself in a dire situation. I needed to find a full marathon that wasn't half-way across the country that I could run in that fit into a 2 week window I had planned into my schedule. In a stroke of perfect luck, I found the Layton Marathon, which was exactly a week after St. George. With a little bit of wiggling I was able to readjust my training schedule to accommodate the change, and I keep moving forward.
Unfortunately, that is the best that could be said for some of my runs. I finished them. When I started hitting distances like 15, 16, 17, it literally became my goal simply to finish the distance, be it at a run, jog, walk or crawl. Fortunately, I never had to crawl home, but there were times when I wished I could have. I sacrificed sleeping and other creature comforts that I had grown to love over the summer that I couldn't otherwise indulge in during school. I finally began to understand what all of my long distance runner friends meant about how disgusting their feet were. At one point, I had blisters on every toe of both of my feet. Sometimes there would be blisters on top of blisters. )It took quite a while of this before I realized that cotton socks are the devil!)
My family thought I was crazy, but they supported me anyway. Even when it meant I had to miss out on things and went running when we were on vacation. By the time I started tapering, my body still hated me for running, but I was much better than when I started. As is my luck, on my last long run (20 miles) I was nearly unable to complete it--my left knee hurt so bad by the time I finished I was limping. After tapering and freaking out for two weeks that I was actually going to have to run 26.2 miles, I found that my race day had come at last.
I had to meet up to catch a bus to the place we had to meet to catch a bus to the start line at 4:30 AM. I guess it was a good think I had been awake since 3 AM. It was freezing cold and rainy driving all the way out to Antelope Island to the start, and I realized during the 40 minute ride (during which they got lost at least twice and had to turn around) that the only way I was getting of this dreary and smelly island was to run the 26.2 miles back. I was officially past the point of no return.
As a small blessing, I made friends with the woman who I sat next to on the bus. She turned out to be an experienced marathoner who had even run St. George the week before. With her assurances that I would do fine, she graciously kept me company as we stood in the freezing drizzle for 45 min. I find it incredibly ironic that a group of people who are planning on running 26.2 miles are made to stand around for nearly an hour before the beginning of the race. Great way to save your legs....
We parted ways with a quick hug and wished each other luck as the race began. And thus I commenced what would become the most challenging experience of my life (to that point). It was monotonous and etched with lake stink, and the gray sky did nothing to lift my mood. I did reasonably well until I reached the halfway point. To realize that I was only halfway done at that point was disheartening and only served to increased my bad mood which was creeping up with the return of my knee pain. This pain got worse and worse until it became almost unbearable, ~17.5 miles into the race. My pace slowed to a pitiful jog/walk and I watched others I had self-righteously judged myself to finish before now pass me. As I neared the 20 mile mark, I hit what could only be "the wall." As I hadn't encountered it in my long runs before, I had no idea what to expect. I was freezing cold, wet, exhausted, starving, light-headed, and all I wanted to do was sit down and cry.
I may be a crazy, enthusiastic, slightly spastic, masochistic, and borderline insane, but I am not a quitter. So I did not give up, but kept putting one foot in front of the other, crying the whole time. When my parents drove by to cheer me on, I think I yelled at them to go away. I knew if they stayed even a second more, I would crumble and tell them to take me home while I tried to forget that I had ever had this crazy idea to run a marathon. I guess they took the hint, because I finished the race without another sight of them.
When I rounded the corner in to the park, and the finish line was in sight, I blasted the most pump-up song I could find on my play list and tried to run. My knee almost gave out twice. I couldn't hear a thing when I finally crossed under the arch, but according to my mom, they announcer over the loud speaker who I was, and that I was finishing my first full marathon. At that point I didn't really care. I took the medal they handed me and literally collapsed on my mother, sobbing.
I managed to hobble to the first aid tent, where they gave me a big bag of ice for my knee, and it was all a blur going home. I do remember asking my dad to stop for Arby's--I got curly fries. It was the first time I had eaten anything from a fast food restaurant in close to a year. Apparently in my delirium I made a comment to athletic trainer on how I couldn't believe that people chose to do this for fun. With my experience, I vehemently stated that I would never do it again.
Since then, I have received some treatment for my knee (severe IT band syndrome and popliteal tendonitis), and might be able to start training again soon. Its funny, but I find that I miss running just a little. But I have a hard time owning to it, and will deny it if you ask.
So, in the end, I was able to cross "run a marathon" off my bucket list. I told myself that this was a once-in-a-lifetime thing that I NEVER wanted to do again.....which means I'll probably talk myself into running another one next summer.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Grad School and Planning for the Future
I am the type of person who likes to have a plan for the future. That way I have a set goal that I work towards; it helps me when I get discouraged and gives me a point of focus. I spend a lot of time looking at my "next step" to make sure I am prepared and that it is the best choice. While I firmly believe that this is a good trait...I have found that there can be some not-so-welcome side effects. The main one is that I sometimes forget to live in the moment, or to appreciate it at all. At one point, this moment was the end goal of much thought and planning, but when it comes, my brain and heart have already moved on to newer and more exciting things (or so I think). This minorly unpleasant self-realization has been a catalyst for (hopefully) encouraging self-improvement.
Although I have no desire to provide a full disclosure of my future plans in their entirety, I think it would suffice to mention that my original plan (as of about a month ago) was to graduate as quickly and painfully (I would say painlessly, but theoretical physics is somewhat masochistic) as possible. From there I would enroll in the University of Houston Ph.D. Kinesiology program along with its corresponding Doctoral Curriculum in Space Life Sciences and attempt graduation in 4-5 years. That would put me eligible to apply to the Astronaut Corps. in approximately 2017-2018. However, my afore mentioned self-realization, assisted by a trip to Boulder, Co (of all places) set in motion a new plan.
I realize that it may sound ridiculous in light of my recent discovery, that my response would be to make a new plan. I must, therefore, restate my opinion that I do not think it is a bad thing that I like to have a plan. The negative symptoms regarding my attitude towards the present are ones that, like any bad habit, can be avoided and changed once they have been discovered to be detrimental. So I will continue, for the foreseeable future, to make lists, charts, excel spreadsheets and all sorts of plans. And yes....they will all be color-coded.
So what was this life-altering experience which has set me on a new course? It was a annual conference called SpaceVision put on by SEDS. The opportunity to surround myself with like-minded individuals, both students and professionals, gave me an incredible new perspective on my chosen career. After some thought, I believe it can be simplified down to a few things.
Although I have no desire to provide a full disclosure of my future plans in their entirety, I think it would suffice to mention that my original plan (as of about a month ago) was to graduate as quickly and painfully (I would say painlessly, but theoretical physics is somewhat masochistic) as possible. From there I would enroll in the University of Houston Ph.D. Kinesiology program along with its corresponding Doctoral Curriculum in Space Life Sciences and attempt graduation in 4-5 years. That would put me eligible to apply to the Astronaut Corps. in approximately 2017-2018. However, my afore mentioned self-realization, assisted by a trip to Boulder, Co (of all places) set in motion a new plan.
I realize that it may sound ridiculous in light of my recent discovery, that my response would be to make a new plan. I must, therefore, restate my opinion that I do not think it is a bad thing that I like to have a plan. The negative symptoms regarding my attitude towards the present are ones that, like any bad habit, can be avoided and changed once they have been discovered to be detrimental. So I will continue, for the foreseeable future, to make lists, charts, excel spreadsheets and all sorts of plans. And yes....they will all be color-coded.
So what was this life-altering experience which has set me on a new course? It was a annual conference called SpaceVision put on by SEDS. The opportunity to surround myself with like-minded individuals, both students and professionals, gave me an incredible new perspective on my chosen career. After some thought, I believe it can be simplified down to a few things.
- Astronaut Captain Steve Lindsey (Leader of the final mission of the Space Shuttle Discovery) gave a priceless piece of advice. To a room full of (desperate) wannabe Astronauts, he implored us that while it was an incredible aspiration, we should not set all of our hopes and dreams on joining the 300-some odd souls who had been lucky enough to escape above near-earth orbit personally. Although, in the very near future, it would be highly likely that many of us in that room would be able to have similar experiences as we took our places as leaders and developers of the space industry, there is much more to do than simply the the body on the plane. His recommendation was that each of us should find something in life that we love to do and can be passionate about. If our lives also happened to lead us to joining the Corps., then we would be blessed to have that honor and experience. But if it did not, it would be a terrible tragedy to find ourselves in a career we despised simply because we hoped it would get us into space.
- I met a great group of students, from all over the country who had the same goals and dreams I did. Until that point, I had always felt the odd-man-out syndrome that comes with the lack of an aerospace engineering program and the accompanying interest in space exploration and development from the staff and student body. Their experiences and insight provided me with information about the wide variety of career paths available at a variety of universities and institutions. There are many others out there like me (but not quite me--thanks Shady) and the industry has many opportunities I had never even dreamed of.
- I will admit, on occasion, to falling prey to stick-up-a** syndrome in my drive to succeed. While I am currently hampered by certain parental influences that restrict me from having the active social life I often desire, I do also have to admit that part of it is my own reticence. My efforts have driven me to work for and desire lofty ambitions. This is all well and good, but in order to become the person I see in the future, I need to work on developing those traits now. This includes learning to take more risks, pushing outside of my comfort zone and being more open to change. Letting loose at a club every now and then with friends is a good thing....now to find somewhere in Salt Lake to go...
First off, I had never even contemplated getting any sort of education abroad (thought I wasn't opposed to it). Secondly, I am not interested in engineering as a career. At all. In fact, I have a particular propensity for all things mechanical in lab-like environments to malfunction horribly whenever I am involved. I am like the Bermuda Triangle in the physics labs. This is one (of many) reasons I did not go into applied physics. But, true to form, I believe in challenging myself to do things I never thought I could do, or previously believed myself incapable of. Apparently, this includes getting a Master's degree in engineering. Thankfully, the program is only a year long, and it provides an incredible opportunity to take all the types of classes that I was interested in from the Biomedical Engineering program at the U. Also, the saving grace is that the faculty is involved in the specific type of research that I have been thinking about, and I don't think I have to build anything (I think...).
Of course, as I am not a member of the EU, school is insanely expensive. Since money is such a constant and painful worry for me, I find it surprising how easy it is to justify twenty thousand dollars worth of student loans for this. However, I did find a program where, if I was selected to be a Fulbright Scholar, I would have my tuition paid for and, as I believe, receive some sort of stipend that would allow me to avoid some nasty debt. Of course, this program is very competitive, but I seem to have a penchant for the difficult and crazy.
This decision to get a Master's degree doesn't really change my "original plan" detailed above much, it really just adds another year before graduating. So it would be a little difficult to understand how this is evidence of personal growth. I would propose that it is the mindset that would even allow me to consider something like this is indicative of how much I am trying to change. Granted, it is a bit of a step sideways rather than forward, it has given me the propulsion to climb out of the holding pattern-like rut I have been in since I started college.
The other thing I am working on is the whole "enjoy where you are at" concept. I have been in such a hurry to grow up (since I was 5-6 ish), that I never pause to enjoy the things that come with being young, unattached and relatively unhampered by major responsibilities. This one does not have as direct a solution, and requires more creativity and work (of an entirely unfamiliar kind) on my part. It is a challenge all on its own and one that requires, by nature, that I cannot do it alone. So here goes to, in effect, spicing up my social life and breaking out of my bubble. While I have no idea of how to do this, at least I have identified that I want to try.
Wish me luck!
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