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https://youtube.com/@wa2k99
But I will get personal for a moment. I was supposed to run the Shamrock 8k this morning in Virginia Beach. I had trained for six weeks. Waking up early, downing pre energy, pushing myself through difficulty, long distances, numerous miles.
But all through the process, it never felt quite right. I mean that more mentally that physically. While training, I didn't feel I had my old burst from years before, especially before COVID screwed everything up. Maybe it's age, maybe it's time off, maybe it's the shoes, it could be all of them?
I don't know if I'm going to run another competitive race; not that anyone would notice outside of the few friends and family I have who know that I do this. I'll still work out, but I think about the 90 minutes it took to drive on Friday night to get my race packet, then the hour drive home. Then waking up at 5:45 to a steady rain and 45 degrees. But still I gulped down 2 Dave's English muffins topped with almond butter along with a banana and made the 45 minute drive to the oceanfront.
The free parking had been relegated from a large open public lot to a little grammar school. I couldn't get a free spot, and somehow that fueled my disgust with the whole process. It wasn't the only reason I did what I did, it just pushed me over the cliff. So...I left. I never ran my race.
Instead, I went and did a bunch of deliveries. After, I came home and did 4 miles on the treadmill. I know, it sounds ridiculous. I guess I did it out of spite to feel like I had some something. I tried to go fast, around 8 mph, but it was hard to get to 5 miles. Maybe I didn't even want to get to 5. Because that's what I was scheduled to run this morning. I did do 4 miles in 30 minutes, if that means anything.
But other things just get to me now. There was a girl in Raleigh I tried to get to know from Facebook, she's an admin in a singles group I participate in. Native Hawaiian too. But when i asked for a phone call, she said she wasn't emotionally available and cut me off.
And there's the mysterious bitch at work who thinks I went to fast at work for her. She reported me and now I'm in trouble with my boss. I have absolutely no idea who it is or what I did wrong. Funny thing is I can do so many great things, no one will talk about them. But one person... one person. That is all it takes to jeopardize a life.
So you know what? Fuck that bitch for trying to ruin my life. My business is personal and if someone tries to mess with my living, they are messing with my identity, my ability to live. Does that sound like too strong a statement? Think for a moment about my state. I'm a single guy, 41 years old, living in a middle to lower class area where I am a minority.
It's even affecting church. Where I live, it's damn near impossible to find a church with people I can relate to. Mom has a good one now in Durham and I'm happy for her, really happy. On the peninsula of Virginia, you get the ghetto people, you get the rednecks, you get the military families. I would probably have to drive 45 minutes east or northeast to find relatable people. But... deep down, it's being around people who already know each other. They have their relationships established. And me, well I'd just be some pitiful charity case. I'm single so something must be wrong with me. I don't want pity. I just want to be useful and appreciated.
So for the last few months, I've been watching online messages every Sunday just to recreate that church feeling. I was blessed to experience some of the greatest churches possible when I lived in Chicago. It's hard to have that again. And yeah, I shouldn't compare. But I can't forget those great days when I was in my 20s. Damn it, let me have old Willow Creek back if it means Bill can keep doing improper things, even if they were never proven.
I know now I don't want to be around people as much as I used to. I was always the person who was reliable to show up on time to every event. That's not the case anymore. As old singles groups dissolve due to marriages and bureaucracy, friends disappear. And as we get older, people have families and that understandably becomes their world. But where I am, it seems social media is most of my social life, aside from the Virginia Jets Fans group. And social media really can set me off because it truly exposes how stupid some people are. And God didn't give the ability to ignore stupidity.
I now am realizing I'll never get married or have kids, so there isn't anything more important than my ability to work and have a little enjoyment once in a blue moon.
I may have become more self centered than I was. I can tell because of how much I work and forego a lot of social opportunities. And that was never my aspiration. But hey, people don't seem to be as social as they used be either. And I think long term. Once my parents are gone, there will be no one in my life. No siblings, no kids, no one.
By the way, of course Edwin Diaz hurt his knee celebrating a stupid, meaningless World Baseball Classic win. Only the Mets, would that happen to. 3 or 4 bullpen guys already hurt, a starting pitcher will be out 4 months, Brandon Nimmo hurt his ankle sliding, he's out at least a month. This Mets season is already cursed. 85 wins. Maybe. Steve Cohen can inject money. Can't inject health.
As I write this, I'm sitting on my back porch for the first time in the 4 plus years I've been living in this apartment. The ledge actually comes up to my eye level, so I can't see much except blue sky, barely leafed trees, and the triangular tops of other buildings. But somehow it feels like an escape from everything. From the hateful people, from the fighting, from the oppression, from the judgement, from the societal need to be perfect.
