Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood...

(This post was saved as a draft a few months ago, as I apparently never posted it. So, you get two today!)

As marching season comes to a close, I am reminded why I continue to do this. I love teaching almost as much (if not more) than performing. I have a vision for these kids, and a way to make it happen.

I sat down with the director and the assistant director this weekend and hashed out next year's show. Being the literary nerd that I am, I had the brilliant idea to base the show on the Frost poem, "The Road Not Taken." We have so many ideas about how to relate this story to life, how to represent it in music, and how to make the kids really get into it. Even if they hate it... I love it. I love this part of my job.

We're using a narrator, and a giant book that the guard will jump out of, to bring the written word and the visual imagery together.

Videos will be posted, if I manage to get some this season. I have been excited about a marching show yet at Northwest, and this one has finally managed to change my mind.

Student Teaching Looms Ever Closer

I'm a semester away from a 90 hour practicum, and less than a year away from student teaching (the university calls it a fancy name: apprentice teaching).

I'm starting to freak out, just a wee bit.

Post-undergrad was so easy for me. I already had a job. Not in my field, mind you, but a full time job. Then, I got ANOTHER full-time job, that was more grown-up and real.

Post-grad will mean... finding a teaching position. A real, live one in front of students, who are expecting my answers to be thoughtful and correct, and I'm expected to be engaging and thought-provoking, while still preparing 100 some odd students for a standardized test that I don't agree with.

I feel like that's... a lot of pressure.

In other news, though, I'm starting my third year at Northwest. We're trying something new this season, where the girls are writing their own rules and expectations, and developing their own consequences. Sure, it's a page out of my education text books, but I feel like the same theory of autonomy applies, no?

Also, dating.

Dating is hard. And it sucks. And it's frustrating. But there is something so wonderful about finding someone you have a connection with and starting something new. Until they don't call you for 5 days... then it just becomes frustrating again.

Men, can you explain? I've read blogs, and dating articles, and all sorts of literature on the male mind, and I just don't get it. Is that "3-day rule" still applicable, even now, in the days where text messages are mostly free and take 3 seconds? Do men still really want a woman they can "chase?" I thought we were moving into the era of women being confident sexual beings, willing to make the first move and pick up the tab. I thought men LIKED that, now?

In any case, I'm excited about the prospects of this one. It could turn into something awesome, down the road. For now... I'm just enjoying the adventure, as always.

Grad School: not just for intellectuals.

...and we're officially in the time of insanity.

My schedule these days is nuts.

Work until 2. Guard until 5. Class until 9:30.

Though, I'm at my best this way. It's less time, which means I'm forced to be productive. I don't see everyone as often as I would like, but it keeps me going.

So far, graduate school is...

Just like undergrad.

Maybe it's because I'm in the education field. Maybe it's because it's only Master's level work. I don't know.

I haven't done anything that's hard. And the syllabi don't look difficult. In fact, they're almost laughable.

I have to do "meaningful writings."

"But, Kate," you're asking, "what IS a meaningful writing?"

Let me tell you, dear reader.

I have to use the vocabulary for a specific chapter in a page-long paper in such a way that I can prove I know what they mean. Yes, just like in high school. I wish I were kidding.

But, aside from that, I like the campus. I like both of my professors. They're quite funny, and sassy, in their own way. The students aren't terrible.

Now, MY students, on the other hand...

Not so much.

The season is in full swing, and I just don't know what to do. They are absolutely unruly sometimes.

I still adore them, there is no doubt about that.

Perhaps I need a few more education courses before I can reign them all in.

Zombies ate my brains... I mean... flags!

I can finally call myself an athlete. Well, sort of.

I finished. I finished a full obstacle course 5K, in 77 minutes. I did NOT come in last. I finished ahead of approximately 1000 people. Who knew?! Look, I even have a medal to prove it:

This race was a testament to the hard work I've been putting in for the past few months. I didn't run the whole thing, but I'm incredibly proud of myself. More than that, I'm proud of myself for not skipping ANY obstacles. I climbed over barriers. I crawled out of mud pits. I climbed a wooden ladder that looked like some form of military training, slid down a water slid, and then pulled myself out of the wooden box at the end of it. I crawled through mud, on my hands and knees. I crawled under an electrified fence and shocked myself. A lot.

But I finished. 

I have never been more dirty in my life, but I had an amazing time. There were people that were more fit than I, and people less so. I felt no pressure to complete the race in 30 minutes. The best time was 22 minutes, by a man who is 50 years old. He was a dedicated trail runner and hiker, and had been a Marine. Of course he was going to get the best time!

My next obstacle in my fitness challenge will be keeping up this momentum. Classes start tomorrow, and I'm worried that I won't have any time to get workouts in. But, I'm going to make every attempt. Webster has a gym on campus. I will find time. I will MAKE time.

I'm looking for more races, so that I can continue my training. I want to walk the Camino de Santiago de Compestela in about two years, and I will need to be in the best shape I can possibly be to make that happen. I would also like to complete a 10K, followed by a half marathon. We'll see. Are these lofty goals? Absolutely. Can I do it? Definitely.

Contrary to popular belief... I DO know...

For some reason, people must think I'm blind. I don't know why, I mean... I studied Art History in college.

Let me explain.

One week from today, I will be running my first 5K.

I'm excited, yes.

But I'm also apprehensive.

I've had so much negativity going into this race.

So many people doubt my ability, so many people raise an eyebrow about my interest in the world of running 5Ks.

I GET IT.

I'M FAT.

I KNOW that I'm fat. I've been this way most of my life, and while some of it is genetic, most of it is being raised by people who made poor food choices, and then making poor food choices myself.

But, I do own mirrors. I do look in them every day, and I am fully aware of my body.

However, I am making changes to my lifestyle, and this is part of it.

I told Mom today that I was worried about it, the race. That I had been humiliated so many times-- even so many this week alone-- about my size, about the race, about so many other things concerning my body, that I was thinking of pulling out of the race.

Her response?

"So do it. Train for the next one."

I think that might have been the icing on the cake.

I needed her to tell me that she believed in me. I needed her to tell me that I can do it. I needed her to tell me that it wasn't about time, or medals, or awards, or anything like that, but that she would be there to support my efforts, and watch me cross the finish line.

I'm still going to do it. I'm still going to show up, and get eaten by zombies, and cross the finish line.

Am I a fool for thinking I can do it? Absolutely.

Do I have any business being the only fat person on a 5K obstacle course? No. Fuck no.

I realize my limitations. I do not suffer from body dysmorphia. I am FULLY aware of my size, and while I don't make a habit of complaining about it, or even letting it seemingly affect me... Comments like hers DO rip my heart out a little each time.

Comments from friends, colleagues, students... they all hurt. I am not an outwardly emotional person, but I DO still feel.

I'm not sure what to do with this information, other than show up and run. I won't win, I won't even be able to run the whole thing. But I'll feel accomplished, and then I can shove it up everyone's ass after I've done it.

Until then, I'm just going to pout and be reclusive.

Small Victories

I have not been able to TRULY enjoy the visit of my nieces because I've been playing the role of caretaker, a bit of the parent role, and usually, the disciplinarian. Nothing to the extent of time outs, or anything of the sort, but constant redirection, and constant reminders of simple things like manners, and hand washing, and not touching hot stoves.

It has been exhausting, and it has proven to me that I am NOT ready for children. Of course,  I don't have the counterpart with which to produce said children, but regardless... I'm not prepared. This is something I still need to do quite a bit of thinking about.

It other news, I've fallen off the fitness wagon, and subsequently been run over by it. Everything I lost prior to vacation I have gained back. Starting this week, though, I'm back at it full force. I'm walking every day, some days even on my lunch breaks. I'm watching my food intake again, and revising my role as "Food Nazi." I'm measuring and rationing and weighing everything like it's the Great Depression.

But it's the only thing that works. Being in complete, total control works for me. Obsessively logging my food, and eating the same things for breakfast, lunch, and snacks works for me. This is MY diet plan, but I don't begrudge others theirs.

The Zombie Dash is quickly approaching, and I'm not sure that I'll be ready. Honestly, I want to cross the finish. And if it takes me an hour... so be it. At least I did it. I'm reading things about the recent race in Colorado that have me pretty scared. Barbed wire? Electric fences? Eek! But, this is supposed to be the first step in a long journey to health... so I'm taking it all with a grain of salt.

I really need to step up my training program. Does anyone have any good ideas? Keep in mind that I'm fat, I sit at a desk, and my..."upper body region"... does not handle running very well.

When I was your age...

...I would've been beaten with a belt if I screamed like that.

If I ever decide that I want children, I'm charging all of you reading this with the task of reminding me of this blog post.

I cannot control the minds of children, so I should not have them.
I cannot let go of the little things.
I cannot stand them touching my stuff.
I cannot stand constant chatter, screaming, and crying.
I cannot handle someone that cannot form a sentence.

I am NOT ready for children, and I don't know that I ever will be.

Suffice it to say, my nieces are visiting for the summer. Sweet kids, I'll give you that. And I do adore them. However... It's an adjustment. I'm just not used to the lifestyle that comes with kids.

I'm also adjusting to my thoughts about my recent road trip to Florida.

Please don't misunderstand, I had a great time. It was a bittersweet homecoming, though. There are so many things I miss about St. Petersburg. And yet... there are so many things that I thought I missed that I actually don't. Not anymore.

It will be six years in November that I've been in St. Louis, and I still couldn't tell you if this is where I feel at home. I'm not sure. I know that some part of me will always love St. Petersburg, and will always consider it home. I have people to anchor me there, but so many of them are leaving, or changing.

Most of them have children, and plenty have husbands. Some of my oldest friends aren't even in town anymore.

But, there are two three things that keep me coming back:

3.) Food. Holy hell. I was reminded on this last trip how good some of the food down there is. Two words: Tarpon. Springs.

2.) My family. We may not be ridiculously close, and we may not talk much, but I do still love them.

1.) Burgy. Now that she's there... I have no reason not to visit. It's been an adventure, repairing the rips and tears in our friendship, making it better than it had been. And now that we're in a great place, we live 1200 miles away from each other. Thank you, universe, for continuing to be ironic.

The friend thing still mystifies me. I guess I've been struggling lately. Since changing jobs in September, I've lost contact with almost every one at Old Navy. People that I worked with for 5+ years, people that I thought were some of my closest friends. No falling out, no arguments, no discussion. Simply... cut off.

It's certainly made me MORE aware of the friends that I do have, though. Although I don't see anyone as often as I'd like, I'm certainly more grateful for the relationships I've managed to create here.

I suppose I'm a ball of emotions, these days. I'm over-tired from handling the kids, I'm stressed because the color guard season is starting soon, and I feel incredibly unprepared and underqualified. I'm worried about grad school starting in the Fall. I'm still sorting out the boy department.

I shouldn't complain. Life is actually really okay these days. I feel a bit like I need a vacation from my vacation, but I'll live. I just need more sleep, and more caffeine.