Saturday-- is that you?

I woke up to an alarm this morning. I have spent the better part of the last 14 hours doing accounting and marketing, stopping for a 1.5 hour break during which I figured out the spring tournaments for the girls I coach. Much more fun in my life and they may have to put me on blood pressure medication...

Accounting

I have discovered that accounting is not going to be my gift. In fact, I have determined that it takes a very special person to do accounting as a living. Next time I meet a CPA I'm going to pick their brain in order to discover what it is that would lead a person into this thrilling (a term we'll use rather loosely in this case) field. In the meantime, I'm going to have to navigate this strange world as best I can. The good news is that my other class is marketing, yay for something that might involve my vastly-underutilized right brain!

Today I was in Louisville all day for work. We went to a 'green' building. It was fascinating! They air condition the building in the summer by blowing air over a massive tank of ice chunks encased in plastic! They sloped the roof so that it captures the storm water and drains it off onto a rooftop garden. All of the wood in the building has either been rehued from the initial structure, or brought in from other old, torn-down structures. Apparently old building materials make up about 10% of landfills. This was one fascinating work space... incidentally, it was also beautiful! Who says green can't be elegant? I dare that person to come trapse around this building for a while.

http://www.courier-journal.com/article/20081128/NEWS01/811280434/1008

Minnesota Nice

Thanksgiving is my mom's favorite holiday. It's the only holiday at which she truly requests my attendance; which, if you're the child of divorced parents with three re-marriages between the two of them, is a bit of a blessing. Several years ago, she moved to Minneapolis from Ohio for a new job opportunity. I gave her a hard time about it; for someone who doesn't like the cold very much she sure was moving the wrong direction.

Contrary to it's uber-winter status, Minnesota is actually a beautiful state. It gets way more sunshine than some of the other midwest states (for reasons I have yet to figure out), and is home to a derivation of people that my mom and I refer to as "Minnesota nice". There's nice, and then there's Minnesota nice. For example: Once, when I was flying to see my mother for Easter, I got on the plane and the woman sitting next to me was having a hard time getting her carry-on in the overhead storage compartment (in my mind that that makes it no longer a carry-on, but that's another story entirely). This woman literally handed me her purse to hold for her while she wrangled with the overstuffed "carry-on". I believe the assumption was that I was Minnesota nice, just like her. Fortunately, I'm not a clepto and I obviously returned the purse to her untouched, but me and my MLK address could not get over the fact that she just handed me her entire purse without a second thought. I suppose that's 'stupidity' not 'nice', but regardless, I have seen more examples of that sort of behavior in Minnesota than anywhere else.

So, this Thanksgiving was no different than the last several in terms of making the 11+ hour drive northward. I don't care how nice Minnesota is, there is no denying the length of that drive. The six hours through the Wisconsin hinterlands, as I call them, is truly the worst part of the whole ordeal. There. Is. Nothing. Dead deer, dairy cows, semi trucks, and random Cheese Haus' (yes, with the German spelling). If you want cheese or venison, you have come to the right place. For anything else, i.e. civilization-- it's best to keep on driving. Eventually, if you stay on I-94 long enough, you will reach the promised land of the Twin Cities. After 11 hours in the car it feels like the promised land regardless of the outside temperature.

It's always worth it. My mom insists on Thanksgiving because it's one of the few holidays without pretense. Come together, have a meal, find some respit before the holiday rush. Frankly there's nice, and then there's Minnesota nice.

Residency

Residency ended Friday at 11:30 sharp. Two down, three more to go (one of which is in Argentina) I survived-- actually in better shape than I had originally imagined possible. My group worked hard, struggled, accomplished, laughed, and had many memorable moments. If I have to walk through the insane journey that is grad school, I'm glad that I get to with these guys. They'll change the groups on us next summer, but for right now I am counting myself among the very, very lucky. Our big, final presentation is next Monday night. We've got a lot of work to do between here and there, but we'll get it done one way or another.

What a journey this is going to be.

Maxed Out

Utterly sleep deprived, HATE Quantitative Analysis, wondering why this seemed like such a good idea last year... at least I have a great group-- definitely the saving grace of the week. Have been doing academic work for 18 hours straight now; my brain is 100% maxed out and there's no end in site. Time to dig in, unfortunately coffee stopped helping days ago.

Purdue, Home Sweet Home

Residency officially starts tomorrow. Taking a deep breath, because here we go. I went for a run around my old stomping grounds today. Aside from the sleet, it felt good to be back. I'm sure the week is going to be utterly awful, but the run brought back a lot of good memories. Boiler Up!

Fear and Loathing in Indianapolis

Today is finally election day. As a state employee, one of the perqs is that we get election days off, so I'm actually at home today getting ready to work on materials for my next residency week that starts this Sunday (ouch). Because of having the day off today, last night I decided to go to my indoor game despite having a Quantitative Analysis assignment due. It was due by midnight and I already had most of it done. Of course, you know what they say about good intentions... I came home from the game and went straight away to finish the paper. The problem became that I sorely overestimated my formatting abilities, and underestimated my laptop's abilities. Needless to say, I submitted the assignment at 11:57 p.m. Far less than ideal, so of course, as mentioned in previous entries, my constant companion Guilt has made her presence known on a whole new level today. I tried to justify going to the indoor game with "Grad school is not going to take away everything I like to do-- I'm taking a stand!" And you know what? I lost. To be honest, I think the paper portion of the assignment is good, but Guilt would like me to know that Grad School waits for no one and I might as well get on board with the new realities such as they are. It's a difficult thing to accept (more difficult than I had originally anticipated). It's a mini grieving process of sorts as I say goodbye to prioritizing things the way I want to, and succumb to prioritizing things to the way I have to even more so than one already does as an adult. What is even more depressing is knowing that it's going to be like this for the next two years.

When I was a baby/toddler I never slept (much to my parent's dismay). I didn't take naps, I was hard to put to sleep, and I woke up at the slightest disturbance. My mother says it's because I never wanted to miss something. I guess you only change so much as an adult, because I'm borderline angry over how much I'm going to miss over the next few years. I will miss time with friends and family because of things like drafting up spreadsheets, and papers, reading things I don't understand a word of over and over again, conference calls, etc. all in the name of a piece of paper and a chance to go after the things I want to do "when I grow up". I keep posing the question of "is it worth it?" over and over in my mind. In the moments when Guilt is really raging, my immediate response is "NO, I wouldn't wish this stuff on my worst enemy", and yet, the coming-down-the-pike 30-something in me says "Annie, you have to stick this out." I just wish the 30-something spoke louder than Guilt.

Sick

Blogger down! Blogger down! I have been hit by some sort of derranged, evil flu bug (not the stomach kind-- the kind that makes all of your muscles wish they could leap out of your body and take up permanent residence far, far away). I'm not stupid; I knew this was coming. You can't burn the candle at both ends with flames the size of Hubble Telescopes and expect that it won't take you down at some point. So here I am, hopped up on Advil, which I might add, my body is actually laughing at and wishing desperately that it would do something. On the plus side, my fingers don't hurt so I was able to sit up and write this blog. I will promptly be returning to my horizontal position, where I intend to be until the misery finally passes.

Sharp Contrast

The weekend after the marathon I went back to Ohio for the wedding of one of my dearest friends. This is the first time the three girls I ran around with in high school and I have all been together in years (yes, once again, pictures pending...). The bride opted for a smaller wedding with mostly close friends and family. The ceremony was held at the church that she grew up in, and the reception was held at the Columbus Museum of Art. It was beautiful, and I was so happy for her. It was incredibly nice to attend a wedding in which the bride and the groom seem so suited to one another. The four girls, or "blonde ambition" as I started calling us, had a wonderful time and a lot of laughs reminiscing about our high school and collegiate exploits. In Indy I only have one 'old' friend (two if you count Eric), the kind of friend who knows your story and you don't have to explain yourself to, so it was really nice to spend several days in my old comfort zone.

After the wedding, I spent the rest of the weekend with my dad and Eric. My little brother and step mother were up towards Cleveland at a hockey tournament. Spending some quality time with dad was the perfect way to end the weekend.

Unfortunately, the events of the weekend have been put in a sour contrast with my week thus far. So far, school work has been flowing like Vesuveus, I got a grade on one of my most recent assignments that made me question what on earth I'm doing in this program (something I ask myself at least once a week), and work is going absolutely utterly insane. I'm not an idiot-- I knew there were going to be weeks like this when I started my program, but if 'knowing is half the battle' I think actually going through it is the uglier half. Here's hoping for a weekend of productivity and recovery! Since the weekend is still 3 days away I think I may be stretching that one a bit.

Mission Accomplished

The marathon was obviously Sunday. Since you're reading this, I clearly lived to tell the tale; unfortunately, I couldn't report back about it right away because I had to get caught up on all the school work I shirked over marathon weekend (Guilt, is that you? Of course it is-- my constant companion, sigh.) So I'm here, alive and well. I can't begin to desribe the intense relief I presently feel. As my previous posts indicated, I was extremely nervous that this was not going to happen for me. First there was the stress fracture, then there was the fact that I had taken on so much this fall, and those combined items fell under the undeniable fact that anything can happen during a marathon.

Eric and I arrived at the Elsmo Four's home on Friday evening. As per usual, we went to set our stuff down when we got there. I went upstairs to ditch my bag and was greeted by balloons, streamers, and hand-crafted posters. It was amazing!! (I saved the posters; when I finally get a chance to incorporate pictures I will add them to the blog) Each poster held a slightly different significance, and I was extremely grateful for each one.

Saturday, Eric and I got up to run my last two miles before the marathon (why they have you run two miles the day before a marathon I'll never know...), and then we went down to McCormick Place for packet pickup. Talk about a running extravaganza-- running companies and paraphenalia everywhere! Eric got new running shoes, and I got a a commemorative jacket since I'm sure I'll wear out the shirt that came in our packet materials. It was very exciting; if I hadn't been facing the big 26.2 the next morning I probably would have really enjoyed it. Saturday night, Mel cooked the perfect pre-race dinner with whole wheat pasta, salmon, spinach, zuchini, and mushrooms. I went to bed early so that I wouldn't be tempted to sleep on one of the medical-tent gurneys mid-race.

Sunday, Eric got up at the crack of dawn to head downtown with me. I was SO nervous. Normally my competitive streak takes over in these kinds of situations, I get pumped up on adrenaline, and then I'm ready to go... but that never happened with the marathon. This time I knew what I was in for, and my competitive streak was completely drowned out by fear of the unknown. Eric asked me where I wanted him on the course. I said mile 23; I had a feeling that I would be flagging a bit at the end and if I got to see him at mile 23 then I would be close enough to make it to the end. The race began and the first 10 miles were fun. There were people everywhere cheering-- it was incredibly exciting. Unfortunately, the race didn't end at mile 10. As the sun climbed higher, the course kept going. It was HOT and kept getting hotter. At mile 16 I started wondering if I was going to make it, but pushed those thoughts out of my head, refocusing my attention to mile 20 which would put me within a 5K's distance of my cheering section. Mile 23 came and went-- somehow I missed Eric, and the Elsmo Four cheering like crazy. I wish I hadn't; I could've used a little love at that point in the course. Everything hurt, and the sun was wearing me down. Finally, I hit Michigan Ave. and then the bridge to Columbus, and then the finish line. Eric found me just after the finish, and I swear I've never been so happy to see someone in my whole life. We met back up with the Elsmo Four and my best friend Julie over by the Joffrey Ballet.

It's moments like that where words completely fail to express how grateful a person can be to have the love and support of their friends and family. This was not about running a marathon for me; it represented a lot more -- in many ways, it was the physical manifestation of a lot of the things I've I had to wrangle with. Having that group of loved ones at the end was the best way to end this particular journey, since really, they've traveled with me the whole time whether they knew it or not.

So here I am, recounting the tale. Oh, and just to reconfirm-- run really is a verb.

Bob-isms

It's funny, the things you think about as you head into something you know is just a bit bigger than you are. For me, whenever I sit on the precipice of something I know will leave me changed, I can't help but think back to the other moments in my life that are of a similar vein. These thoughts inevitably take me back to some of my favorite Bob-isms. Bob was my step father, but more than that, he was a profound force in my life. Unfortunately, he died when I was in high school. He was notorious for knowing exactly what to say when the situation called for it (others might argue he said the wrong thing, but I disagree. He said what needed to be said, not necessarily what people wanted to hear). A piece of me will always miss him terribly. As an adult now, I often wonder what he would say to me if he were alive. It's not hard to imagine; most of the time I can still hear his voice as if he were sitting next to me. It's actually become more clear as I've gotten older. So much of what he told me didn't have nearly as much application then as it does now.

One of my favorite Bob-isms was "Ann, (he always called me Ann) you know-- they can kill you, but they can't eat you." Macabre, but really, he meant it in the "life can knock you down, but ultimately, you're the one who decides who gets the last laugh" kind of way. Amongst all of his sayings, that is one of the ones I hear most regularly in my head, and no matter how challenging the situation I'm facing is, when I think of that it always brings a smile to my face. I wish he was going to be there this weekend, but I say that about a lot of things I've done since he died.

Some of my other favorite Bob-isms include:
"They were just pick'n fly shit out of pepper." (usually referencing meetings at work that were a waste of time)

"Ann, you have to bring your own self esteem to the table. No one is going to bring it for you."

"It ain't easy being green." Yes, technically he stole it from Kermit the Frog, but it was still effective.

"Find someone who shares your same values, people grow and change, but values stay the same."

"Team sports are ridiculous." I think it was his way of saying, don't lean on others for things you should do yourself... or maybe he just really hated team sports.

"Don't get married until you know who you are."

"One in four people isn't going to like you. Get over it."

"You can make some of the people happy all of the time, and all of the people happy some of the time, but you're never going to make all of the people happy all of the time."

"Always be intellectually curious."

There are many, many others that I hear as I go through my days, but when Sunday morning rolls around, you know I'll be thinking "they can kill you, but they can't eat you."

One Week To Go

The marathon is almost here. Exactly seven days from now I will hopefully find myself a little over half way through the course. Right now though, I find myself in the middle of the taper. While certainly enjoyable, it is a rather strange thing. I understand the biomechanics of why runners taper to the race, but it is completely counterintuitive... run like an utter dog for 13-14 weeks, decrease your workload down to a tiny fraction of what it was for 2-3 weeks, and then run further than you've run the entire duration of your training period-- completely bizarre. While a bit beyond logic, I'm not going to pretend that I now better than Runner's World, or the thousands of runners who successfully complete marathons using this formula. I will blindly trust that this is the recipe for success... well, relative success. I just want to finish-- God willing in a time that does not qualify me for 'slowest human being on earth'. Sure, Bolt may have been crowned the fastest man on earth this summer in Beijing, but can he compete with what this little gem of a title would be??

It's funny how everyone else on 'Team Schmelzer' (my loyal cheering section) seems to have more confidence about this foray into the unknown than I do. They all seem unnervingly confident that I will be able to do this. Fortunately, not everyone was there to see last weekend's 22-mile long run, which was quite ugly and not a real confidence booster heading into the final chapter of this deal. I would be a liar of the greatest proportions if I said I wasn't scared half-to-death right now. After all this time, effort, sleep deprivation, pain, etc. I just want to cross the finish line and end this in the best way possible. It's a marathon; there are no guarantees, but according to the program and Team Schmelzer, the countdown is on and apparently I'm ready (just don't ask my sweaty palms, dilated pupils, and elevated heart rate about my readiness).

Small Success

Just finished my first, individual paper for my econ class. It's not due until Monday. I'm considering this a particular success since I was having MAJOR writer's block on this! I'm going to send it to the TA tomorrow for criticism to make sure that I'm not waaaay off the mark. As the baby of the class I find this to be an ever-present possibility; hopefully I can avert it most of the time. Aside from some reading and lecture reviewing I'm in good shape for this weekend in Chicago. I think it will be worth my present state of exhaustion. 21-miler Saturday morning in Chi-town, yikes!

Bad Day

Today was a little rough on the uptake. Work was slammed, my run during my lunch break was awful. It was only 6 miles, but you would have thought it was 26 (oh wait, that's the marathon, um-- yikes). It was one of those days where I looked at the clock in my office and I couldn't get it to slow down. When I looked at the clock on the treadmill I couldn't get it to speed up. My day was capped off by a 5:00 e-grade update from my quant professor telling me via Windows media player that I needed to work on my grammar in my quant memorandums. Talk about devastating. I have always prided myself on good grammar and above-average-writing skills. If I can't even do those things right in my quant class... well, I'm in worse shape than I thought (and the shape I thought I was in was pretty bad to begin with!). Feeling overwhelmed, slow, sore, and dumb. Outstanding.

All of this was drawn in sharp contrast to the gorgeous evening I had last night. Eric and I went to dinner at a new acquaintance's home. We had one of the most fun evenings I can remember as of late, so today was quite the letdown by comparison.

Sigh, perhaps tomorrow will be better.

Allow me to introduce my new "best friend", Guilt...

So I've touted my blog to friends and family as a way to check in and make sure I'm still alive, despite my constantly-on-the-run absence. You know, the issue with this comes in when you don't have time to make posts and your cousin calls you in a loving panic, opening the conversation with "You haven't posted anything in a week, are you still alive!" It's a sad state of affairs when you can't find five minutes to leave a post-- something as simple as "still alive, too busy, sigh". There are definitely times I could have made a post, but then my 'best friend' Guilt sits down next to me. Guilt is my new, constant companion. She comes with me everywhere. Out to dinner with friends, to my soccer games, to the games for the girls I coach, in the office, with Eric and I on our very occasional 'date night'... everywhere. I don't like my newest companion. She is most unwelcome; I never purposefully invite her along, but there she is, everytime I turn around. Guilt likes to tell me things like "Did you finish your paper yet?" "You know you still have two more lectures to listen to." "Buzz, Buzz, your black berry now has 14 new messages, you really should take care of those." "The dog hasn't gone on a walk in a day and a half-- it's not her fault you signed up for too much." "Your long run is tomorrow, and you have not drank enough water today." Round and round we go. I expect that Guilt and I will become well acquainted with one another over the next several years, but hopefully with some prioritization I can send Guilt on mini-holidays for the sake of my own sanity and all parties involved.

In other news, I did my 18-mile long run on Friday before work. Yes, I started running at 4:45 in the morning and finished at 7:45 in the morning, only to then come home, shower, and go to work. Most people do their long, training runs on a Saturday or Sunday morning, for the simple fact that they take SO much time. I prefer to do mine on Fridays. I already know that I'm going to have to get up early for work, what's a few hours earlier to maintain some semblance of weekend 'freedom' (a term I use rather loosely, given the addition of Guilt)? It's worth it; although, I will say that 3 hours of running by oneself is a bit of a grind. I made it all the way to mile 16 feeling pretty decent and then the last 2-3 miles were AWFUL, tortuously boring-- accomplished by one, plodding step after another. Next weekend will be my last long run before the marathon; a 21-miler with Julie up in Chicago. She's going to roller blade with me along the lake front with a supply of gels, water, and the most important element-- the support of a best friend. Almost every single run up to this point has been by myself (even the shorter runs). This is the first long run I haven't dreaded up to this point, despite the distance. I believe Saturday night will find us out and about on Rush St. or something of the like. No doubt that Guilt will be there too, but with any luck (and probably a few glasses of wine), she will take a hike; leaving Julie and I to a Saturday night of actual fun.

A Celebrated Weekend

Well, the camera was forgotten in Indianapolis, so no pictures to commemorate the weekend... visual enhancements will have to wait for a different installment, the dog's heartworm medicine was also forgotten on top of the fridge (hopefully the doggy version of CDFS isn't reading this, she did get her medicine when we got home), but overall it was an outstanding weekend on the river. A good time seemed to be had by all; it was certainly had by my little clan. I'm pretty sure Kappa's idea of heaven involves being around as many people as possible 24/7, which is exactly what happens to her down at the river. Right now she's blissed out, dead asleep on her bed.
Saturday afternoon I took the wave runner out for a spin by myself. It was fun, and, in an odd way, liberating to be out skipping across the water by myself. With only one, relatively small person on there, that thing can really move; although, on the flip side, one, relatively small person does have enough weight to keep the wave runner in the water very well so whenever I hit other boat's wakes I had to slow down or go airborn. I have fun jumpin around, but it's not my wave runner so I think it best to be slightly more cautious than not. I don't know what I'd do if I broke it, and logistically speaking, I don't have the foggiest idea how I'd get back to the dock. Regardless, it was a great way to start off the weekend down at the river. When I came back I got on the boat with Eric and his family for a little afternoon float. (Again, wouldn't it be nice to have pictures to go along with this entry???)
Sunday I got up and went over to downtown Madison where, to my great surprise and supreme relief, the coffee shop had wireless access. Welcome to the life of a B-schooler. I studied there all morning and then came back for another afternoon out on the water. I wish every weekend could feel so sunny and celebrated. Saturday night everyone gathered for a big Labor Day meal and a fun evening of miscellaneous summer activities including, of course and much to my delight, the aforementioned s'mores.
This morning, Eric, Kappa, and I came home to rest and regroup before the start of another insane week. I'm studying, Eric's playing on the other computer, and Kappa is completely passed out, probably dreaming of all the fun she had this weekend. More studying for me this evening, but it sure was a great weekend.

River Weekend

Tomorrow is the last day before a three day weekend. I'm not sure if it's possible to be looking more forward to it than I am right now. Granted, tomorrow will start at 4:45 a.m. with a two-hour long run that, God willing, I won't get stormed on in the process, because I HATE to run in the rain. Then I will go to work, and then I will come home only to work more on my statistics primer. What a wild start to a wild weekend... or not.

Eric, Kappa, and I will take off down to Madison, Indiana for a long weekend of boating, and general outdoor fun complete with campfires and smores (maybe I'll be able to get multimedia'd up in here and post some pictures... we'll see how creative I feel this weekend) I don't know what backyard genious came up with the smore, but whoever they were, they were undoubtedly a brilliant cullinary mind ;o) Of course the laptop and school work will be in tow, but that's okay. I'd much rather study down in Madison after a day of fun on the water than sit inside my apartment all weekend loathing the fact that I wasted summer's last great days. Besides, Madison has this utterly adorable little coffee shop that I'm pretty sure has wireless access, so that will make for pleasant study sessions.

I love going down to the river. Eric's family is great, and it's a lot of fun for me to see Eric in his element. He loves going down there, and watching him on the water it's so easy to see that he has done this his whole life. Everything is simple and fluid for him-- like the river itself. I, on the other hand, did not grow up on the water. I don't know the first thing about boats, waterskiing, currents, smooth water, choppy water... I'm a damn good swimmer, but that's about the extent of it. I'm pretty much useless, even when I try to 'help', which is a term I'll use loosely in this context since I'm really not helpful at all down there. At least when I fall in the river trying to 'help', and that's a pretty inevitable 'when', well, then I'll know what to do. So here's hoping for a fun (and studious, sigh) Labor Day Weekend!

Exhaustion and Inspiration

"To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe."

Chicago

Well, as the nature of my blog title suggests, I was off and running again (hence the gap in entries). This time up to my "home"... well it feels like home, Chicago. Every year my mom and I take a weekend during the summer and meet there. It's a tradition we've been doing for 10 years now, and although saying that makes me feel old, the fact of the matter is it is one of the things I look most forward to.
I started the weekend early by driving up Thursday night and staying with the Elsmo Four (see their blog at elsmofour.blogspot.com). My family has grown exponentially over the years with a wide array of people who aren't necessarily 'relatives' per se. The Elsmo Four, however, are actual relatives, and for that I could not feel more blessed. If the soul were a gas tank, mine leaves their enclave of Chicago on 'full', and I always hate to leave... reason number 3,967 why I just need to move up there! We had a fantastic time. The Elsmo vortex sucks you in and next thing you know you have a glass of wine or sparkling water in one hand and a dog or a cat in the other.
My mom met me there on Friday afternoon. Mel, Finn, Emma, and I spent the morning mini-vanning (yes, it's a verb too!) between soccer, the Whole Foods, and this awesome artisan cheese shop. Mel once told me that you can get through just about anything with some crackers, wine, and a good cheese. Honestly, I have had moments in my life where if you looked in my cabinets and refrigerator-- well, you'd know I took her advice to heart.
After a beautiful afternoon together, my mom and I departed for downtown. We had dinner at Toppolobampo, which was FABULOUS! Of course the food and wine were amazing, but really, just settling into the promise of the weekend made everything that much better. Saturday mom and I navigated all of our favorite haunts. Including the Crate and Barrel where the plush beds mock me year after year. I swear that one of these days I will have a bed like the ones in Crate and Barrel. Maybe it's better that I don't have a bed like that. It's less incentive to stay there when I have SO much to do these days. Saturday night we had dinner at Le Lan, also fabulous. Sunday came too quickly. Sunday always comes too quickly on this particular weekend of the year. Despite the sadness of having to wait an entire year for the next installment, I take comfort in the arms of my city. Just being there reminds me of the work I have ahead of me, but also the bold, sky-scraping incentive that lies around the corner.

Return On Investment

Graduate school is in full swing. Classes have started, primers are being completed, and of course, that means that tuition is due. Most of my cohort are being sponsored or reimbursed by their companies. I, however, work for the state. Obviously there is no room in the budget (balanced though it is for Indiana) for sending people to graduate school. No, this is one that I am taking on the chin. It's a top tier program with a top tier price tag.

Today, I started navigating the world of financial aid. I am utterly baffled (maybe they should have Master's programs for the anomaly that is the financial aid system?). Obviously this is not rocket science; I will of course figure it out, but for this evening I am allowing myself to be completely confused. One of the financial topics we will be talking about in class is ROI... boy there's a concept that hits home!

Right now I'm in the middle of a statistics primer for my first quantitative analysis class. Forget Ambien, totally not necessary when you've got this! Mostly I feel bad for my future professor. I pretty much have an empty, cavernous space where my left brain was supposed to go. Somehow I managed to get through a very quant driven undergraduate degree-- so now we'll see if I can't make it two for two.

The Long "Run"

So as mentioned previously, I am currently waiting the results of my bone scan to determine whether or not I have a stress fracture in my left foot. In the meantime, the doctor told me that I could bike and swim to keep my cardio up. Since my hope is to still run the marathon in seven weeks, I have been mimicking my run workouts in the pool and on the bike. Today would have been a 3-hour long run, so I spent 2 hours and 15 minutes on a stationary bike and then 45 minutes swimming laps continuously.

I go to the gym, catch an hour long spin class, and then just stay on the bike, working like a fiend, while everyone else packs up and goes home. It's awkard. I keep waiting for the day when someone comes up to me, thinks I must be deaf, and tells me I can get off the darn bike already. So far it has yet to happen, but I do receive a few strange glances as people make a break for the door. Luckily most of the instructors know me by name, and also know my reasons for staying aboard. Oddly enough, spending the last hour or so in the pool is kind of nice, albeit even more difficult. I did swim team for many years as a kid and early teen, so the repitition takes me back to summers spent working hard in the mornings and then playing at the pool all day. My swim cap and goggles are both blue. I must surely look like some sort of derranged blueberry, swimming back and forth, back and forth.

The marathon is seven weeks away. I'm afraid I won't be ready. I understand that this won't be my last chance to run a marathon if it doesn't happen. I also understand that there is a lot to be gained from the journey, even when the journey doesn't go as planned, but after all the planning, hours of work, and mental energy devoted to this one thing I can't help but continue to go after it. Seven weeks from today I want to run across the finish line as an official marathoner.

The Definition

This is the beginning... (and, in some ways, the continuation) of so many happenings. I have officially bitten off more than I can chew, and of course, hilarity and insanity will surely follow. I have decided to chronicle this journey for a few reasons: 1) I will eventually want to look back over my musings and laugh 2) It may be the easiest way to convey to friends and family that I am, in fact, still alive and kicking 3) It seems like fun, and if I don't engage my right brain in something creative I fear it will shrivel up altogether, never to be seen or heard from again.

Now, why use a dictionary definition to title the blog? Well, for starters, I am signed up for the Chicago marathon; although, I'm currently healing a stress fracture, so I've got my fingers crossed on that coming together as planned. I have always loved sports, and running in particular, so what better way to embrace those things than by running a marathon? Second, I have recently started an MS/MBA program through Purdue and Indiana University. It will take 2.5 years and here I find myself standing at the bottom of a mountain, staring straight up, with absolutely no vision of where the top might be (or if it's even there). Additionally, I work full time, coach girl's travel soccer, play in my own soccer leagues, and have a boyfriend and a dog--the two highlights of my day when I finally skuttle through the door. I love this definition because it encompasses the opportunities that lay ahead--taking flight, the challenges that will inevitably prompt a whole lot of departing quickly. Yes, I am literally attempting to run a marathon, but more than that, I am running forward-- full steam ahead-- into what, I'm not entirely sure, but here the story begins.