Here I am. Nearly 19 years old and closing in rapidly on the end of my first year of college. I'm a successful athlete, an aspiring writer, a good son and friend and a student attempting to maintain an all-A streak for his first two semesters. Seems perfect, right?
I do live a life I should be proud of, but I'm tired of feeling obsolete. I'm always second guessing myself, frustrated with anything less than perfect and, worst of all, constantly looking to others for approval and reassurance.
It's time for a New Deal.
I've decided that, piece by piece, I will collect the scattered fragments of my life and put them together the way I want- form my own final product: a picture I can truly be happy with. I do not wish to focus my decisions upon satisfying other peoples' expectations of me, but rather I now plan on looking at my life as something I'm living for me.
Now don't get me wrong. I have always, and will always, pay far too much attention to the impact I have on the people who surround me. My friends, my coaches, my classmates and especially my family have all been the people for whom I have expected my best. So much of what I do is to please them...to make them proud. But I'm ready now to add myself to this list of people who I deem important; something I have never done without feeling selfish and unworthy.
How am I going to do this? I'm not quite sure. I suppose it's a learning process, but it's one I am more than ready to embrace. People cannot go on satisfying others' needs without thinking of themselves. Too often people undergo situations which are nothing but detrimental to themselves, clinging desperately to the hope that what they do will make their loved ones proud. But I've decided that life is not something we must get through- it's something I want to experience and love.
The truth, we must recognize, is that life will be full of things we do not enjoy. But that is exactly what excites me most about waking up in the morning. Each day is a new beginning, and while I know I am simply brimming with clichés, our life is a roller-coaster full of ups and downs we must simply take with us and learn from. It's those truly low points, those traumatic falls that we all experience, which will teach us to appreciate and cherish the moments that we can say we are truly happy.
Happy. That's my New Deal. Find a way to make sure I'm happy.
Take, for example, my career as an athlete on the Boston University track team. Before I can even begin explaining the chaos that has been my first season, you all must understand what running means to me.
It's life. It's love. It's where I truly find myself.
Fail. I fail at letting you see what each step symbolizes to me, what each step forces me to feel. I feel euphorioa. I feel pain. I feel and know that I'm alive and this is what is real.
Running saved me from my childhood. It brought me out of depression and self-loathing. I moved from Maine to Connecticut and was harassed for my appearance. I ran. I ran. I ran until the hurting in me stopped and the hurting outside me began. My college essay was centered on the way running, though a simple sport, has paralleled itself with survival in the context of my life. Now, I run to clear my head. I run to find a center. The everyday trials and tribulations of the world mean nothing when it's five in the morning in a silent woods and the only sound that echoes upon the trees is my feet striking gravel. There is no judgment. No questioning. It's me and the path I chose, alone in a rhythmic discussion of muscle and will.
I can only hope that this brief explanation does justice to the sanctuary I find in running, but regardless, I must continue on with my previous dissertation.
The New Deal has finally helped me with a decision I have been dwelling upon for months. Do I or do I not run track at Boston University? I promised myself that the day running became less than my passion, I would leave the track team and find my way back to the roots which have stabalized me for years.
The time has come. Yes, shocking. I do not think I will be continuing my career as an active member of the BU Track and Field squad, but I say active because I will forever be a terrier. The hours of pain, blood, sweat, puke, determination and perseverance I left on that track can never, ever be erased, and will always justify my statement that yes, I am a Boston University Track Athlete. .I just don't need a red jersey to prove that I'm good.
Why am I quitting? Aside from a few personal matters that I'd rather not divulge, I am quitting for my own sanity. Track and running are not the same, take my word as fact. Track has become a job, one that demands too much and pays too little. Ironic as this fits in our struggling economy... But in all honesty, track is slowly consuming my desire to run. I find myself pacing around the training facilities wishing I could be out jogging along the river, going as far as I decide, not doing whatever it is that our work-out sheet instructs me to do, like some machine on auto-pilot. I am no longer emotionally connected to the track experience, and I would rather be out each day enjoying the freedom of a free-run than putting my body through tremendous labor and enjoying a quick 22 seconds of race time at meets.
My final verdict: I run for me.
I am resolute in my decision and I hope my friends and family can support me. As for my team, I wish them the best of luck and I will do all that I can to go and cheer for them as they compete this outdoor season.
This New Deal is underway and I must take each day in stride.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Fitting Quote: "No matter how far, run for all you're worth. Run!"
~ Battle Royale
~ Battle Royale
