Day 5
So I was just chillin out reading Les Mis. and had a bite to eat, which I need to give myself credit for. My dad went to Arbys which I'm not crazy about in the first place, but besides getting the sandwich he got curly fries, onion rings, a chocolate and cheery turnover, and a jamocha shake. I would normally be really excited that he got all of those, because I love accessory foods. But since I am watching what I eat I was not happy about it. I restrained myself and only had one onion ring and one fry (a very long curly fry though) and sat back down with my book and ate the sandwich. It was a beef-n-cheddar with white cheese instead. It was good, for an Arby's, but I could taste the unhealthiness of it -very salty. Since I wasn't very hungry and ate not long before, I just ate half and thought I might eat the rest when I get hunger later. Choosing to not eat when I am not really hungry is something I don't usually do, so I am proud of my self for only eating half of the sandwich. I normally eat a full meal when I am not particularly hungry. I should note, however, that you shouldn't wait till you are hungry to eat. I have been told by a nutritionist to eat about every 4 hours to keep your metabolism going. The fact that my tastes buds noticed the unhealthy taste of the sandwich is significant. Maybe it is because I am eating more fruits and vegetables. I just think it is really cool that I am beginning to not enjoy the taste and feeling that fast food gives me.
As I was reading I remembered to check my email. When I did, I saw an email from University of Louisville. It said I was not accepted to the graduate school. :-( It really made me upset. This was the fourth rejection letter I have gotten out of five schools; I was loosing hope. I had to decided how I was going to react to this news. I could decide to go back to reading and just ignore my feelings of frustration and disappointment. I went inside and picked up my Cavalier King Charles dog, Addie, holding her, feeling her in my arms was comforting. She is like a baby. As I was holding her I thought about how to react to the rejection. I choose not to tell my parents yet, that would involve their emotions about it and talking about it - I just didn't want to deal with that yet. I recognized that I was angry and thought that avoiding it by going back to reading was not a good choice. I thought running would be a good outlet, and I could get some exercise.
I got my iPod and running shoes and was off. I decided to do a Fartlek, it is where you run and walk/jog in intervals. I was listening to the music as I ran. The first song couldn't have been better; it was a Mason Clover upbeat song. I started in a full sprint which was empowering and a bit awkward as I was exposed to the whole neighborhood, bolting past a woman walking a dog and a gardener. I knew it didn't matter, I was just amazed at the speed I was going. I could not recall every going that fast. My legs were pumping from the decline, I didn't slow down till I got to the flat surface. I was aware of my body as I was propelled forward down the hills and was aware of my body when I slowed down and I could feel myself getting winded. Being aware of my body like that was surreal. I decided to switch to walking at the next post.
I prepared for the next downhill and decided that I would base my pace on the terrain throughout the run. I would walk or barely jog on uphills and jog or run on flat surfaces and go full out on the downhills. As I went down the next hill I let it take over and force my legs to go faster than ever. Emotion came over me as adrenaline set in. I as recognizing my emotion, listening to it and it wanted to cry - right there in the street as a bus was driving by. I was still running and I allowed myself to cry. I don't even know if there were tears, it was one of those painful cries that you can see in the mouth and the face gets all scrunched up. As I got to the bottom of the hill still in full speed I decided to take the turn, knowing that it would take me into the next neighborhood, which was notoriously hilly. So I started up the hill in a slow jog - the kind where you are at the pace of walking but just picking up your feet more and swing your arms. It was a tough hill. I was listening to the music - the words were speaking to me. I can't remember what they said, but it kept me moving even though it was a slower song. It came to me again - the crying. I listening to my emotions and let it come out. Letting myself cry is a big deal, I usually brush things off and don't let myself get emotional. I looked around and thought for a moment what I looked like - barely jogging up this hill crying in plain sight in witness to all the cutesy suburban houses; I said to myself, "I don't care, I need this. I am glad i am crying." I took a walking break at the top of the hill. I was approaching a flat stretch, so I thought I better pick up the pace before, another hills comes. I went off running to the beat of the music. When I got tired, still on a flat surface, I switch to walking at the next post. I kind of stopped running before I got to the post; I caught myself and ran the rest of the way.
I went into a walk and reflected on the pretty flowers and how the hills are metaphoric. In the life there are ups and downs and sometimes on an up you need to press on in a jog, putting forth the same effort that would be pretty fast on a flat surface, but on a hill is a crawl. Other times we need to walk during the uphill times, so we have time to experience and learn and grow. Often times hills are thought of metaphorically as a positive time, but gosh darn it when you are exercising it sure isn't. It takes a lot of energy to go up hill, but maybe that is how life is; it takes a lot of effort to get to the top - to that goal place. The downhill times I let go and let the hill take me over causing me to run really fast. It is scary and feels like I don't have to put out any effort; I just have to pick my feet up so I don't trip and fall. Sometimes you might feel like you need to put the breaks on and try and make your legs go slower, because your scared, but that can actually be more damaging to your body due to the fierce impact. So are downhill times good in life? They are certainly a relief in running. It doesn't feel like you are putting forth much effort, but you are going fast - which is good. I guess when downhill is thought of negatively it is because it is leading to a low place.
After thinking about this I approached the final hill. I realized I was not ready for it, and the music was not fast enough. This was a biggie; I prepared myself. The song came on and I let go and was off down the hill. All I was doing was trying to pick my legs up fast enough and keep them from buckling. There was a moment when I was going so fast I subconsciously made one of my legs brake (by straightening it out), because I was a little afraid. I reassured myself, "You can't do that," and continued picking my feet up. I was huffing and puffing like a heavy weight lifter. I swear it was so loud it seemed like people could hear from inside their homes. About halfway down the hill my headphones came out. I was going way too fast to care; there was no stopping me. It made the scene feel all that more dramatic; almost like when Forest Gump ran for the first time and his leg braces come off. I reached the bottom of the hill at the stop sign. I was finished! I was so winded; all I could do was walk it off. I had to bring my heart rate down. The mailman happened to be right at the bottom of the hill when I finished. who knows what he was thinking. I was afraid he was going to stop and talk to me (he is a friendly man), but thankfully he didn't. I put my earphones back in and walked on. I was so exhausted. I needed to cool down so much that I walked past my house to the end of the street. I was so exhausted I was barely walking, dragging my feet, back slumped, huffing and puffing. I felt and probably looked like a zombie. When I came to the hill in my driveway I was probably taking one step every 30 seconds. I was in autopilot; I had checkout. It took all my energy just to pick my feet up. I opened the gate to the back porch and my mom saw me and laughed and imitated my zombie like appearance. I was a little irritated at that so I playfully threw the newspaper at her.
As I was standing there I told my mom the bad news. She gave me a hug and said she was sorry. I appreciated that, even though I'm not very affectionate. She continued to ask me "why do you think you got turned down," and "what are you going to do now". I really didn't want to hear that -it was frustrating me. I didn't want to think about that yet - I actually already had thought of it, but didn't want to explain myself to my mom. I told her I really didn't want her to talk that way right now. She listened to me and let me just sit there in silence, which I was happy with being so exhausted. I understand that she can't help wondering why her wonderful daughter would get rejected, but I just didn't want to hear it. I just wanted comfort, not explanation. Usually I don't really acknowledge the need for comfort and try to be tough, but later I called some friends to make me feel better.
I am really proud of how I handled the news of being rejected. I am proud of myself for facing my emotions instead of bottling them up, and I am really happy that I used my frustration to fuel an extreme run. I would not have had the motivation to run like that without the frustration I had.
