You know what I HATE?

Okay, a bit of a rant for the night...

One of my absolute biggest peeves is unreliable people. I'm pretty easy-going... I fully realize that people are busy and that sometimes, even when I want them to, they can't make plans.

This is fine with me.

What I can't handle is looking forward to something, making plans for days, sometimes even weeks, then having people back out the same night with some shitty last-minute excuse. If you've got better things to do, fine... bugger off and go do them... but don't make me fucking wait around for you while you do your shit and then break the plans made.

This summer I seem to have encountered more of this then ever before (or, at least, it's happening all at the same time). Tonight was a fantastic example... I've been waiting for weeks to go watch the UFC pay per view. I'm a big fan of mixed martial arts and love to watch the Montreal fighter George St. Pierre. It's his title defense tonight, so I made plans a week ago to go see the fights with a couple of guys I know. They wanted to go grab beers and watch them with me, so I planned out a time and the three of us agreed.

Today, I received a call saying that one of them was going to be a bit late. This I can handle. Then, the other guy let me know he was going to be running late too... again, no problem. So I wait patiently until about 7:30 (30 minutes after the fights have started) and I get a message from the one guy saying that he might not make it because he's at his aunt's b-day party and a bunch of his family is there. Okay, you know what, that sucks but another guy is still coming. So, I wait for another 45 minutes and am just on my way to the pub and I'm just about to call buddy #2, and I get a text message... you guessed it, he bailed too.

Now it's 8:30, the bars are jammed, and I don't have anyone to attend the fights with. Thus, I sit at home pissed off and I'm gonna miss everything.

This is stacked on top of the fact that I waited around all morning because my boss was supposed to call me so I could pick up my paycheque for the end of my summer of painting. I'm still on the coast for a week, but I finished painting yesterday and he said he could clear up what he owed me. I also knew he was in a golf tournament this afternoon so he wanted me to pick it up before he had to go to that. Fair enough... no problem.

So I waited around all bloody morning. I texted him at 10:30 letting him know that I'm ready to stop by whenever he was good to go. I phoned him at 11:45 and left a voicemail saying that I'm around and ready. Do I get a call back? Nope. Not until 6:00! And I'm over the fact that he buggered off on me this morning, so I asked him when he wanted to meet up. He said he would be back home "shortly" and he'd call me so I could meet him. Over an hour later, still no word. So I texted him to see if he was home. I didn't get my cheque until 7:45 tonight, again waiting around for him.

Today was obviously particularly bad, but I can't tell you how many times I've waited around for phone calls or meet-ups and have been disappointed. Are people in their mid-20's fundamentally flaky? What the hell is up?

Not impressed, people. If you commit to something, just fucking commit. I can't handle the bullshit of wasting my time waiting for disappointment.

I guess I've said my piece... I think I need a beer.

T

Walking home in the rain

It's been quite a long time since I last walked home from the pub in the rain. Since it wasn't really rain more than a light sprinkle, it was quite an enjoyable walk home. I hadn't seen a friend of mine in quite some time, and since she'd broken up with my close friend, we hadn't really spoken. It was really good to catch up and have a good chat over some drinks, and then enjoy the walk home. I always talk about it, but I really miss walking places... it's just something I enjoy.

After a steak, some drinks with friends and a rain-filled walk home, I'm ready for bed. Left coast, I'm gonna miss you when I'm gone again.

T

200 posts and all things left coast

I guess it's been a couple of years of self-indulgent story sharing on this little blog o' mine. Some days it feels as though I have endless amounts to share with the world at large, and other days... well... there's a reason why I don't have posts for days on end.

Since I've been out here on the Left Coast for over a month now, I thought I'd list my Top Six things in Victoria that I just love... some involve activities, others are places to eat, and still others are just nice locations/things. Don't get bogged down in the order... there is no particular order. I'll try to add another four soon, but I've gotta run to work soon so I don't have time to make a full Top Ten list. Let me know what you think...

1. Sunday brunch at the Shine Cafe. I haven't been able to fit in a brunch here yet, but believe you me, I will soon. There's a lovely selection of eggs benedict that I tried to work through from top to bottom while I was still living here. I think I made it, but I think I should try again :) Oh, and I love the first picture featured on the "Pictures" page.

2. Fisherman's Wharf. This quaint little float-home community on the outer edge of the inner harbour is a great place to grab a coffee, walk around, get some delicious fish and chips, and even feed Sammy the Harbour Seal. Just lovely and one of my favourite places.

3. The Noodle Box. My favourite take-out place, well, ever. The Spicy Peanut Noodle Box is just simply delicious. I've been a couple of times already.

4. Oay Bay Marina. My aunt and uncle have a boat out here, and although they don't take it out on the water nearly enough, it's still a great place to either hang out, watch the local seals who mooch food off the tourists, or grab a coffee and walk around.

5. Cook Street Village and Moka House coffee shop. Although I've never lived down in this neighbourhood, I've always wanted to. The area allows me to embrace my inner-hippy/yuppie, while enjoying the most delicious of coffees. Again, just lovely. Moka House was pretty much my second home for the first few years I was out here and although it's changed a bit, it's still a place I feel at home.

6. Beacon Hill Park. I've been doing some running down along the water near the park, as it has some of the best views in the city and there are dogs and kite fliers and kite surfers everywhere. The park itself is just lovely... and if you have a family, there's a petting zoo, ducks and ponds, and lots of places to play around. Definitely one of my favourite road-running routes in town.

Off to the coffee-cart I go...

T

Talent and inspiration

Periodically, I'll poke around my "friends" on Facebook and come across people I haven't spoken to in many months, sometimes years. Since I've moved away from Alberta, I've lost touch with many old classmates and friends that I always enjoyed seeing.

Just a few minutes ago, I saw that a few of my old schoolmates were sending messages to each other via the lovely aforementioned social communication device, and I came across Jane's website. I knew that she was persuing her artistic endeavours out east at a school in Ontario, but I haven't spoken to her in a few years. Obviously what I thought was simply impressive in high school has blossomed into something even more intense.

Although the site is under construction, I urge you all to check it out. You just have to go to her homepage... JaneRenyk.com

Just enjoy and let me know what you think. Jane, if you ever come across this page, I'm truly impressed.... all the best with your work.

T

Have you ever...

... driven a car without brakes? Well, I can understand if you haven't yet had the pleasure. Or, should I say the HORROR!?!?

On the way to work this morning, I noticed that my brakes were acting a little funny, but they were still working so I didn't think too much about it. I have a 35 minute commute to the painting gig I'm working right now, so the fact that I made it to work without incident made me forget all about it.

However, as I was getting ready to leave work, my brakes seemed a bit wonky. I began driving, immediately noticing that I could push my foot down nearly through the floor when hitting the break and I would receive varely any response. I kept trying them as I drove slowly down the road, and knew that something was wrong. However, in my male stubborness, I was just thinking, "If I can just make it to the shop in town, I'll get them checked out."

Since I'm working out on the Peninsula here on Van Isle, I took a side road home. However, after passing through one of the towns on the way back into the city, I knew I didn't have many options left... I could press all the way down on the brakes without any response until they literally locked up and I went skidding to a halt. Likewise, it was raining like a banshee so I was really a four-wheeled danger train ready for trouble.

Luckily, I came across a shop shortly there after and pulled in. Just before they closed shop, I convinced the manager to have someone take a look at the car. Sure enough, I'd blown my compressor in my rear brakes (which also needed some other work) and tomorrow morning I can pick up my ride, $360 to the negative. At least I'm alive to tell the story, I guess. I don't really recommend driving without some sort of functional stopping device on your motor vehicle. Just thought you'd like to know.

Now... why do people drive new cars? See above. Ford Escorts weren't meant to drive for more than 280,000 kms.

T

Departures

I've heard that death and taxes are life's only certainties. However, I think departures are inevitable as well. It's easy to think that, since they are in fact an unavoidable part of life, they should be easy to deal with. But watching people walk away, whatever the circumstances, can be difficult.

I've been struggling with what seems to be a staggering amount of uncertainty and a major sense of rootlessness... the transient nature of this period in my life has caused these feelings of treading water without being able to touch my toes to the bottom. Many factors are involved (which I don't really need to get into), but the things that seemed so certain are just, well.... the opposite.

I've been out on the coast for a month now, hours and a million miles away from the one I love, and the close friends I was staying with have also parted... they're off on a month-long trip to SE Asia, so I'm house sitting in their absence. For a few weeks, anyway. And so here I am... trying to figure out what comes next. My work schedule has been sorted out for the next few weeks, and I have an idea of when I'll be returning to my home base... and sure, I know that life is waiting for me there... but nothing seems certain... nothing seems solid and tangible. Quicksand is all that remains.

This may be just a melodramatic moment, but I'm terrified of what's to come. No longer can I rely on the familiar safety net of university and part time jobs and the ability to do as I wish. I know I've mentioned it flippantly before, but these seem to be the first days of the rest of my life. What's to come on the other side of the door is anyone's guess... hell, I'm not even sure. I've always been the one to have it all figured out, and I'm racking my brain to sort out exactly what will happen or what to expect. But I remain blank.  In a sense, I'm simply trying to ignore the fact that I'm metaphorically surrounded by water... if you ignore the water, does it cease to exist?

I don't know... I'm probably just obsessively philosophizing because of a lack of things to do. But here I remain, nonetheless. I guess I just need to keep showing up and see what happens. "For the longest way round is the shortest way home"....

T

Vacations are always tiring

It wasn't so much a vacation, but the trip back home to the prairies had a much more positive connotation this time... the marriage of my little sister.

K and I made it to Calgary on Tuesday evening and stayed with the in-laws Tuesday night. I'd wanted to go to the Zoo for a long time now, so we spent Wednesday touring the Calgary Zoo, hoping to catch a glimpse of this year's babies. Although the baby gorilla was in some sort of hiding from the crowds of zoo-goers, we did get to see the adorable baby elephant and a tonne of other cool animals. I was exhausted by the time we'd walked around the whole park, but it was well worth it.

After making it down to Bridge City that night, we spent the rest of the week eating, drinking, carousing and celebrating the fact that we were all together as a family on better terms. It was a week of celebrations that involved a lot of food, a LOT of beer and wine, and, last night, a HUGE amount of dancing. If you see K anytime in the next little while, she'll let you know. The speeches were touching, the groom sang a wonderful version of "I Wanna Grow Old With You", and we just had a great time seeing my little sister start a whole new family line. Congrats to the both of you crazy kids!

Alas, I had to return to reality on the Island in order to get to work tomorrow, so here I am, ready to turn into a pumpkin and head to bed. The joy and bliss of painting calls my name for another day, so off I run. Until again...

T

Coastal living

I'm officially out on the coast to work for the summer. Actually, I've been out for nearly two weeks, but there's no need to get caught up in the details. I'm here, and the weather is gorgeous and the ocean I miss so much is still here, so I shouldn't complain.

I'm back painting/training with the student painting company I've worked for in the past. Things have been going tolerably well, but I'm still having trouble hitting my groove. I think I'm just perpetually obsessive about getting things right, and in this line of piece-rate work, that's not really the best trait to have... financially speaking, anyways.

It's been fun living with SW and his lady... pretty chill, and there's always someone around to have a beer with. I'm still worried that I'm intruding into their world and throwing a wrench into the gears, but there have been enough interruptions that I don't think they're getting overwhelmed. I was gone last weekend and am leaving again on Tuesday, and by the time I get back they're going to be leaving for SE Asia after that for a month. Thus, just when they get all topped up with TM, off I go or off they go.

It's been a bit of a rough week and a half. After learning about my lack of work for September, I came out here to learn a few short days in that my grandfather passed away. So the following Friday (last week) I flew back to the prairies for the funeral and to spend time with the fam. That, along with the fact that work has been pretty "meh" so far and the fact that KM is a long way away makes it tough to be out here. Someone's always home, but I'm still feeling a bit lonely and sad at times.

Still, though, when I feel the ocean breeze on a sunny day and I don't fall off a ladder and I get a phone call from KM and there's beer in the fridge after a long day in the heat, life's not all that bad. It could definitely get worse, but I'm hoping it doesn't.

Until again, loyal readers (hi to both of you!),

T

So many things...

Life is sometimes (often?) overwhelming. It seems like I'm just being drilled with a million things at once right now, and I don't know where to put all of this emotional stress and energy. Just when I thought I could take my mind off work, I have a new job and a new location to worry about, and new employers and co-workers to please. I'm back in a town that I grew to call home, but after two years of being away, it's seems slightly strange... foreign. And I know I'm only here for 6 weeks or so, but it doesn't change the feeling that everything is just a bit foreign and although the streets still seem familiar, I feel like a sad nomad without a home.

And maintaining the sensation that nothing is solid or founded in stone, the rock of my paternal family has passed on. At 93 (0r 94?) years of age, my father's father, my grandfather, Joe Mrak has passed awau. I rationally understand that he was ready to go and he lived a good life so there's little to mourn, but knowing that he's gone is just another crack in the foundation of my world. Trying to talk to my dad over the phone from 500 miles away is even harder... how can I be strong when the superman of my world has been brought to sadness and tears?

Still, I remain here, looking out on the ocean, apart from my family, my wife, and the things I know so well... alone to deal with the world as it stands. When faced with everything uncertain, I just keep walking. Sometimes I get the feeling that if I stop, I won't want to start walking again... walking is sometimes the hardest thing to begin. So I simply don't stop. I don't often think of destinations... just motion.

T

Letting go

So often in life, we get caught up trying to control things that are out of our hands. I've been especially guilty of this over the previous few months, and I haven't really had the wisdom to see the difference between what is in my control and what isn't.

The big realization I've come to is that I just have to let go of the things that are out of my hands, and I keep thinking that I should've embraced the words of the "Serenity Prayer" long ago...

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference."

I can only do the best with what I'm given. And so, I let go and find some solace, all the while hoping (and in all reality knowing) that things will work out the way they need to work out.

- T

Ends

NOTE: In the editing process of this post, much of it was lost. I'm too lazy to type it up again, so ya'll will get the abbreviated version with a couple of pictures. My apologies...

My alarm went off at precisely 6:00am Saturday morning (8 days ago). I felt like I was already somewhat awake, anticipating what was to come. After showering, getting my clothes together and checking the abysmal weather forecast, I got K up and we headed out the door.

It was race day... I signed up for the race a few months ago and have been running a few times a week with my running group to train for it. Twenty-five kilometres of hills and trails lay before me, and although I was a bit nervous, I just wanted the rain to hold off and I simply wanted to finish.

K didn't stick around at the start... she wanted to get back to bed so she could come back and watch me finish. Luckily, a friend happened to show up and sign up for the race unexpectedly, so I hung with her for a little bit beforehand. We watched people slowly gather around the start lines and go through the regular pre-race motions of warming up and stretching and making sure shoes were tied and water bottles were filled.

After seeing some friends and acquaintances and making an attempt to mentally prepare myself, we toed the line and took off. Throughout the race, we battled mud and creek (the area has had huge amounts of rain lately, and the mountain runoff has been travelling down our formerly wonderful trails) and fatigue and hills... but I made it out alive. I was aiming to complete the course in around 2hrs 50mins, and my final time was 2:33:34... I blasted my hopes by nearly 17 minutes! I was pretty excited not only because I'd never run that far before, but I placed 12th overall out of nearly 50 people in my first ever trail race and I was in front of people who ran these races regularly throughout the year.

Good on ya, legs... you did good. (The time clock on the right is at 3:33:35... the 50k runners left at 7am and the 25k runners left at 8am... the time looks longer because of the earlier start time, just so you don't think I'm lying!).

The end of many chapters

The metaphor of reading a book and closing it's cover is definitely overused. However, it's used often because it seems so suitable. Just like the seasons, all things come to an end.

I have exactly 10 days of teaching left before final exams arrive for my classes. Therefore, each block of students only has 5 remaining classes until they are completely finished for the year (other than the final exam the following week). Not only is this ending, but so is rec volleyball (playoffs are on Wednesday) as it my training for my 25k trail race (takes place Saturday). By the time July hits, my weekly schedule will be blank. In many ways, it makes me sad... but in many ways, it can't come soon enough. I'm exhausted quite regularly, my marking pile never seems to disappear, and there's always some student problem to fix. Also, it seems like when I'm in the house, K isn't and vice versa and now that she's re-starting cardio bootcamp on Monday, she'll be starting up her busyness (not to mention her new job starts the same day).

I guess we're in a time of flux... we've become distant with the craziness of late, but I can only hope that summer brings sunshine, walks in the parks, and some time to find each other again. Sometimes it's just too easy to lose touch with everything important in life because we get so busy, well, living. Bring me the sunshiney days and starry nights and the loving eyes of the one I love.

T

The myth of stupid questions

As a teacher, I feel as though I need to clarify the age-old idea of "there are no stupid questions".


My response to this? It's B.S. Why do I think that? Let me tell you (in a round-about way that comes back to the question later...


Students can be lazy. No, not all students, and no, not all the time. But quite often, they're lazy. They want the teacher to do the work FOR them. They want to sit back and "learn" everything through some miraculous form of osmosis I've never encountered... it's like they'd be a great audience for that sort of hypnotic-like sleep learning where you play a CD with information on it while you sleep and when you awake... EUREKA! Brains!

I got in an argument with a student a few months ago about something similar. Yes, I realize that, as the adult in the situation, I should not argue with students. However, she insisted. She was upset that I was unfairly negative to her in class, and that I was always telling her that she was wrong. There was a long history of encounters behind this, but this was definitely one of them. And the thing is: I didn't deny it.

The reason I didn't deny it was because she was CONSTANTLY wrong. Or, at least off-topic. And I'm not the type of person to say that it might be her interpretation and that's fine, but I was looking for something else... I'm a bit more blunt as I want them to understand that it was a myth to believe that anything can be interpreted in any way and, in reality, there are a finite number of ways we can interpret literature. She didn't really appreciate this academic perspective and simply thought I was being "mean".

I'd ask a question about a topic and she'd put up her hand. When I called on her for a response, she'd often get away from the textual discussion at hand and dive into a personal tirade on what she believed. Now, I'm all for having beliefs... but they have their place, and the academic environment of literary analysis isn't it.

An example would go as follows: I begin to make a point that physical descriptions of characters in stories DO NOT dictate WHO the characters are or necessarily what they are like. Just because the character has blonde hair does not mean that the character has any characteristics that only blondes hold (Disclaimer: I'm very aware that some authors do, in fact, utilize physical descriptions in order to develop a certain facet of a personality. William Golding does this shamelessly in Lord of the Flies). However, I wanted to make the point that when we discuss character in a story, the physical description is generally meaningless unless the author intentionally connects the two. In essence, it was a discussion about stereotyping and unfair assumptions being made without evidence to support it, which is a much more universal lesson than they realize... we, as readers must rely on evidence from three main sources: what the character says, how the character acts, and what the other characters (or the narrator) say about the character in question.

I connected this to our real lives... I made a comment that, "Just because Joe-Blow dyes his hair doesn't mean I can assume anything about his personlity. I could, but I would be working on stereotypical assumptions. This is the same as saying this: Bobby-Lou has blonde hair so she must be unintelligent." So, my little friend put up her hand and said, "If you knew Joe-Blow, you'd know that the dye-job DOES say something about him." I conceded the fact that this was wholly possible, just like blonde girls can be unintelligent and skinny guys with glasses can be interested in Friday nights spent working out mathematical equations. I explained, though, that in literary analysis we cannot assume this and we MUST focus on evidence from the text. The same goes for life.

Did she just let it go? Nope. She kept on going. She explained that she could tell things about people by the way they dressed. I explained to her that she was starting to get away from the point and the whole problem with stereotypes is that they're often inaccurate or completely untrue. Did this deter her? Not a chance. She kept going, trying to convince me that everyone is limited to how they dress in her mind, so she should be able to talk about it in her paragraph. Just to be able to move on, I pointed out that the fact that she was simply wrong because it was a superficial assumption and she simply couldn't do so, especially in a liteary response. Her response? She got upset and started making rude comments about me to her friend.

There was also an essay written about a moral dilemma... we'd talked about moral dilemmas in a short story and then I gave them a news article, asking them if the man in the article SHOULD have received a reduced sentence in jail for carrying out a mercy killing on his daughter who suffered from cerebral palsy, constant pain, and had the developmental capacity of a three-month old (she was 12). In her essay, she made countless errors in various areas, and ended off by saying, "I know [the daughter] would have been sad to see her dad go to jail. And I know that God would have forgiven him, so why can't the government?" I explained that these personal assumptions were fine to hold in her own worldview, but their overtly personal and unfounded nature had no place in a formal persuasive essay. Her response? I was unfair and she could believe that if she wanted. Again, there was a complete disconnect between what the expectation of the assignment was and my explanation of instructions, and what she wanted to say and believe. This was only one episode out of many (so don't assume that I overreacted in one isolated situation), and although I could've borne a single confrontation, repeated challenges of this sort without a sincere interest in actually improving and understanding the perspective of the other person deflate me to the point where I find that I lose all patience in the matter.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and frustrated me to no end. It made me realize that some kids don't want to learn or understand or improve their skills... they simply want someone to take their word for it... they don't understand that without an interest in understanding and learning from their mistakes (and they do, in fact, make many mistakes), they just won't improve and succeed.

This brings me the long way around to the quote I put up on the board in my room (I have a whiteboard behind my desk that I fill up with quotes about various things from famous people)...

"Some say that there are no stupid questions, but we must be quick to see the flaw in such reasoning... unless the question is asked with a sincere interest in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, all questions find futility."

I didn't attribute the quote to anyone, which surprisingly made the words garner more interest than most of my other quotes. A few students asked who said it... I simply responded with the question of, "what do you think?" Most said they liked it, and only then did I attribute the saying to someone... me (yes... this is a shameless celebration of my nugget of wisdom. Just passing it on)

:)

T

Days

I know pretty much nothing about Einstein's Theory of Relativity. However, I think today is one of those days that proves his theory. The influence of emotion and sensation on the human experience determines time, determines space, and so many other things. In all reality, it determines life. Today drags, and continues, and meanders miserably and slowly into the grey, overcast, Tuesday afternoon. The end of work signals nothing more than a transition to something else, but but the transition will only bring more slow movement... more silent voids.

Only anxiety remains strong.

T

The (in)ability to embrace uncertainty

Some days, I feel like a walking paradox. I need structure, but I rail against it. I need certainty, but I provide myself and others with none. I often despise ambiguity and just want it told to me straight, but I, myself, am ambiguous and ambivalent and I don't know what to do about it. I need control, but give it up to others regularly. I can take charge, but I don't mind being the sheep. I thrive in the quiet, but idleness makes me crazy. And I want patience from others, but I fail to be patient myself.

The previous few months have shown me exactly this. My last post likely hinted at it. I get inside my head and become trapped, uncertain, scratching to escape. I know I need to let go of things, but I hold on to them greedily, like a rottweiler. Can it be that I hold the key to my own imprisonment? If so, why do I insist on hiding my mode of escape?

I realize this is clear as mud and likely makes little sense to the three friends who continue to indulge this wholly egotistical practice of blogging, but we all need an outlet. Running has been one of the latest outlets, but I can only run so far and so long before body gives out and my mind remains. But the impulse to write stays strong, just as it did when I was just an angsty teen looking for an argument or some way to engage with the world around me. So I guess I'll keep on writing and trying to figure out my life. Pen to paper, foot to pavement... question to question to question...

T

The pursuit of tangibility

I have a fundamental flaw in my ability to believe. I'm a skeptic… a cynic… a person who is often unwilling to take things at face value. I need proof… something tangible I can hold in my hand, hold up against a light, sink my teeth into in order to prove its validity and value. At the end of the day I need something I can grab onto without doubt… if doubt exists for any reason, I may release it unto its own accord. Show me God and I will show you faith. Aye… but there's the rub.

How can any man believe without seeing… trust without knowing for certain? I need to see… to trust… to be shown. But what of faith? By definition, faith is not something proven, but something trusted without this structure… without proof… without the solid foundation of tangibility. It lies outside the human sensory experience and must exist intellectually. It is a time where we must abandon the "seeing is believing" mentality to dive head-first into the pool that is faith. Herein lies the problem. My problem? What if my pool of faith is too shallow for such diving? What if I feel as though my pool has been tainted… how does it become clean? I'm not sure if this will make sense, but is it even possible to taint such a pool? Is it possible to drain such a sea?

Not only do I feel a need for tangible proof in anything deemed suspicious or uncertain, but other areas of my neediness have created problems in my relationships as well. I'm quick to trust, but also quick to be cautious. I'm quick to love, but also quick to be critical. I give much of myself, but I also need reinforcement and support. It's like I'm extremely willing to empty the contents of my cup, but I'm also quick to need it refilled in return. I am not so selfless that I can give without receiving… I'm not referring to goods and things, but emotional needs. I give, but I must also get.

How do we go about releasing the anxiety related to losing sight of our faith to return to a place where faith is regained or rediscovered? I guess this is my path… my journey.

As C.S. Lewis said, "For the longest way round is the shortest way home."

T

Fighting the rain

The forecast wasn't wonderful. Leaving the house at 6:30am, I knew the cosmos may not conspire to give us sunshine, but I guess they were willing to conspire in one way. How was I to know that the conspiracy would feature rain and wind and more rain?

I shook out the nerves I was feeling as the race approached. After reaching the destination and hopping on the bus out to the start line, I could feel the nervous butterflies beating actively in my gut. "There's nothing to be nervous about... this is just for fun." It's funny how there are things you know... but all the knowing in the world can't help you shake the fact that you feel something else, contradictory and completely unavoidable.

We arrived and hopped off the bus, and I noticed that although it was obviously overcast and a bit chilly, rain was absent. It was dry on this part of the road, so I thought maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I saw our fearless leader... the man who has been running my training clinic for the past few months, and you could sense the excitment in him. This was just another day on the road for him... another day to strap on the shoes and give 'er. I could sense his relaxation and thought again that there's nothing to be nervous about... just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine.

The race began and the action plan went through the window. I planned to start off at a slow pace... barely a jog, and pick it up a bit each kilometre. Unfortunately, my feet had other plans and within a minute I was striding at my typical pace comfortably. I knew this may not be the best idea, but sometimes I just let the feet do the talking. I'd never run a road race of this distance before, but I wasn't about to get in an argument with the things that were getting me home. I shut out the intimidation of the uber-runners with their fancy gear and years of experience, and simply put rubber to the pavement.

A few minutes later, the sky started changing and soon it was spitting. And the wind picked up slightly. And the spitting trickle turned into a more intense spray. And the spray turned into rain. By mile four, I was soaked. By mile five, I could hear sloshing in my shoes. And by mile six, I could feel my jacket collecting rain and become more heavy and begin to slowly shred my nipples, a layer of skin at a time. Because of this predicament, off came the jacket. But then it was cold. But at least my shirt wasn't moving around... I'd rather feel the slapping of my wet jacket against my legs than the uncomfortable burning sensation on my sensitive parts.

Needless to say, I slogged through the final four miles in some discomfort. I haven't discovered the joy of bodyglide quite yet, but an investment will be made soon. I ended up running the race in a respectable time (1:18:50), but I'm paying for it... sore chest (bleedy nipples), lower-back chafing, and some mild leg pain from I-have-no-idea what. But it's over and done with and I happy to say I did it. The route featured some fantastic scenery and I was pleased with my performance... my breathing and gait were contolled, the hills didn't bother me, and I think if the weather was better, I may have shaved off a number of minutes from my time. But, a pancake breakfast and some dry clothes at the finish did well to soothe the discomfort. Mmmm... pancakes.

I have another 5 weeks to go until the race I'm actually prepping for. I'm still somewhat scared because it's much longer (more than 1/2 marathon length), and there's a tonne of hills, but it should be a good test for me. And should be something I can be proud of for a while to come (as long as I don't die). I'd spend more time explaining my plans, but I've got a leg to ice.

T

Although I knew it had been looming...

... the anniversary has passed. This is a post from just over a year ago, when I lost one of my students from my practicum school.

RIP K.L.

T

The world of anxiety

It's that time of year again... posting season.

For the non-teachers out there, it is a time of importance only in the areas of getting outside and enjoying fresh air. Sure, for some it is the stressful time of tax season (or the release of stress post-tax-season), but for most persons in Canada, it's just a newly sunny time of year.

For new teachers, though, it's a time of year that is met with a combination of dread and excitement. When I say "posting", I mean the posting of new job opportunities. Gaaa!

Last week it began. It always starts with a round of jobs posted for those who already have (or are in a seniority level where they can apply for) continuing positions in this district. Many of these jobs have certain people in mind, and are posted in such a way that very few people (other than the anticipated prospect) would have the qualifications to take on the role. Examples are similar to this: "Secondary School looking for a qualified individual who can teach the following: senior English, Social Studies, Dance and Psychology". Or... "Senior Math teacher needed who can also teach Physical Education and Foods". Some are simply retirements and people leaving the district, but even those often have a certain someone special in mind.

Realistically, most people aren't qualified in all these random areas and the people that may be qualified are likely not interested in teaching such a smorgasboard of classes. However, the one person who the administrators have in mind IS looking for exactly this job, particularly since it's unlikely that all the necessary qualifications may not be needed when the teaching schedule gets finalized over the summer or early in the fall. Playing politics, people... that's what it is.

The problem with such a system is two-fold: A) You have to be willing to play into the system by doing a bit of sucking up and self-selling... and, B) you must rank high enough on the ladder to actually have the possibility of playing such games. I, my friends, have no such luck. I'm at the bottom of the pole. So, until the leftovers are offered to the non-humans (A.K.A. those without any seniority status), I will be waiting in painful agony for news about work. Likely, it'll be June 23rd before I hear anything solid. Until then, it's all just rumours and hopeful expectations.

On a brighter note (read two ways!), I'm running in a 10-Miler race down in the southern Okanagan on Sunday! It should be lots of fun and good opportunity to see how I do when I'm pushing myself a little bit. I haven't been doing any real road-running as of late, so this'll be a bit of a challenge. Still, there should be a handful of the runners from the running clinic participating, and it's a small crowd that participates. K won't be tagging along because she's abandoning me tomorrow to head down to sunny California with her mom for a family wedding. She's gone until Sunday afternoon, so I'll be zipping down to the Skaha region, running my race, and zipping back before she flies in (as long as I don't die on the course!). While she's gone, I'm going to be a busy boy... volleyball, running, a potluck, a birthday party... oh, and I guess a bit of teaching too... so much to do in so little time!

Hopefully I can actually get some sleep tonight so I'm not a total wreck for the rest of the week. As we all know, though, hope is a feathered thing my friends, so I guess we'll just have to see how it all comes out in the wash.

T

The existence of a twin...

What do shadows know of heartbeats? I think they only know of silence...

T