The parade

You know, I never actually wrote down what I learned training for and running the marathon. I had a note on my phone for a while as I would pick up nuggets I wanted to keep with me, but that note is long gone and I've only got one blog post to say for. So, as I now sit on the other side of 1,000 miles run in 2023, here's what I can remember learning along the way.

I remember realizing that it wasn't just my marathon; it was our collective marathon, and no one was running it alone. It was during our 18-mile run that started at Mile 20 of the marathon course and went to Mile 11 and back to Mile 20. Someone was stretching their calf on the curb at some point, and I remember asking if he was alright, and he said he was good. Something so simple like that made me realize we were all in this together, and no one was training or running alone. That was really cool.

There were little moments in training where the coach would ask everyone to raise their hand if they were about to embark on the longest run of their life. I raised my hand twice in training, and the immediate "holy shit, this is about to be the longest run of my life" feeling made it seem so simple.

And it really WAS that simple. I mean, sure, running 26.2 miles at once, or running 1,000 miles in a year isn't simple, but you're just running. Even the morning of the marathon, I had told Hannah, it's just another run. And of course it wasn't. Of course it was remarkably spectacular and something I'll always cherish. But from the perspective of the physical endeavor, it was just another run. Only 6.2 miles longer than something I had done less than a month ago.

The actual bigest thing I learned in training was that, over the course of a marathon, you have a LOT of time to work through things. Something might feel achy, something might feel tight or tweaky, something might feel sore...you've got more than enough time to sort yourself out. And every single time, it did. The ache or tightness or soreness would go away, either because my body warmed up, I became acclimated to it, or I straight up forgot something was bothering me in the first place. And honestly, that learning applies to life so hard now. We have a LOT of time to work through things in life. Work might not be perfect; relationships and friendships might not be perfect; whatever is going on in life might not be perfect; but we've got more than enough time to sort ourselves out.

And the biggest thing I learned in running 1,000 miles was that it really was as simple as showing up. Today is the 344th day of the year, and I've run on 184 of those days. I could take the rest of 2023 off and would still run on over 50% of the calendar. One out of every two days. That means you run when it's cold, or windy, or rainy, or raining, or downpouring, or snowing, or early, or late, or dark, or you're hungover, or you're hungry, or you're thirsty, or your back hurts, or you're tired, or you're sore, or you straight up just don't feel like running. Showing up is all it took, because I knew I would come out the other side. Every run I've ever had, I've come out the other side. My fingers always start to warm up after 2-3 miles. My body starts to figure itself out after 4-5 miles of a long run. Gels help. Water helps. Slowing down helps. Chasing people down helps. The right song at the right time helps. Emptying the tank at the end of the run helps. For all these things that help, for all the times when I need help...you always come out the other side. Every step is another one closer to the parade. But you gotta show up.

Believe In Boston

You think you know a city...

I mean, I had been there before. Hanging over the barricades in Kenmore Square, clad in a Red Sox jersey, cheering for strangers who were 25 miles into a marathon, joined by thousands of others. I'd get choked up being part of the city on those days, remembering all that happened in Boston and Watertown in 2013, and how a city came together to be stronger than ever. I drank the Kool-Aid, declaring Boston as the best city of all the cities ever to be a city. It still is. This place is special. You just don't realize how special until you're on the other side of the fence.

It's a bucket list marathon for anyone into that kind of thing. It's quite possibly the most challenging, it's definitely the most energetic, and talking to people with varying experiences of the Boston Marathon has put all this in perspective for me. This marathon is special. Especially after 2013. Here I am, some guy who likes the Red Sox and grew up where the shootouts happened after the bombing, and you've got Martin Richard's brother and childhood friends running the marathon. You've got people running in honor and memory of people affected in such devastating ways. And you've got people lined up in every city and town from Hopkinton to Boston supporting everyone as they embark on this journey and feat of the human body.

The race itself...marathons are freaking hard. A year ago, I had never run more than 10 miles in my life. Seven months ago, I had never run more than a half marathon. And in the past 2.5 months alone in training, we went over 13.1 miles seven different times. All the preparation is crucial, because you're going to have to run through so many different things on race day. I finished in 3:59:33, 27 seconds under what I would have considered a good day. 14,373 seconds between start and finish, and 27 seconds was the difference between seeing a 3 versus a 4 in the hour column. If I didn't weave around people for the first two miles...if I waited for a port-a-potty instead of taking a leak in a bush at mile 8...if I stopped one more time to drink all the water in the cup, instead of taking it on the fly...if I didn't force that last half a gel into my body at mile 24.5 despite being sick of gels at that point...if I hadn't run up Heartbreak Hill a dozen times in training and was seeing it for the first time on Marathon Monday...if I hadn't been calculating my remaining distance and available time to four hours for the last five-plus miles to know exactly what I could get away with...you're the conductor of a four-hour symphony, and you have to orchestrate it to get your desired result.

And even then, it wasn't perfect. It would have been nice to stop and talk to friends and family along the course, instead of running by with high-fives or pointing from afar. It would have been nice for it not to rain in Wellesley and run with waterlogged sneakers. It would have been nice to navigate the Newton hills a little more elegantly. It would have been nice for the T not to get stuck underground and prevent my dad from seeing me cross the finish line. Marathons aren't perfect. That's why there's four months of training. The body acclimates itself to an incredibly grueling task. The mind convinces the body of its capabilities over time. My body and mind were both prepared for this day and this race. My heart, however...

Like I said, you think you know a city. This really was all one giant parade. And every day in training, I'd tell myself, we're another day closer to the parade (something the 2013 World Series-winning Red Sox also said). But to actually get to the parade...to have so many people show their support by donating to my fundraising, to receive all the messages of support (and later, congratulations) from everyone, to be part of the embraces at the Common before getting on the buses to Hopkinton and telling Hannah I'll see her soon, to talk on the bus with a 73-year-old guy from California who's much faster than me and running 100 miles a week, to take the walk from Athletes' Village to the starting line and seeing people lined up before the race even begins, cheering and ready to send us off, to see a guy on his front lawn in Hopkinton with a sign that said nothing but "25.3" on it, to hear the scream tunnel at Wellesley College, to make that turn onto Comm Ave. in Newton and hear how loud the crowd is, to hear people yelling out my name all because it's on a piece of athletic tape on my singlet, to go through the underpass on Comm Ave. underneath Mass Ave. and hear almost silence before coming up that hill and seeing Hereford St. within reach, to realizing that Hereford is more of an incline than I thought, to taking that turn on Boylston and realizing that Boylston is a much longer street than I thought...this city puts you on their back. The fastest mile I ran all day was from 25.2 to 26.2, and that doesn't happen without this city carrying me for eight minutes and 15 seconds.

So, that's one parade. Maybe there will be another. For now, I got to experience one of the most rewarding challenges of my life, in the place I get to call home, taking so many people along for the ride. Something I realized weeks ago was that this marathon wasn't going to be just my race. And it wasn't. It's all of ours. The way the city comes together, the way the city puts everyone on their back...this is our fucking city.

The other side of the fence

I really had no intention of ever doing this.

I had never been to see the Marathon, never been to Fenway on Patriots' Day. Certainly never ran more than a mile or two in my life.

And then 2013 happened. One of the most celebrated days of the year was attacked. Lives were lost. Life-long injuries were sustained. That same week, there were shootouts in my hometown. Police from all over Watertown and surrounding towns. Boston PD, state police, FBI agents. I drove home to see my parents not long after, and drove the five minutes to where the shootout happened. I could still see the dried blood on the street. I still think about those days every time I drive past Franklin Street and where everything came to an end on a boat in someone's driveway. National anthems were sung, strangers came together, Boston became Strong.

I still had no intention of ever doing this.

My dad and I would start going to Red Sox games on Patriots' Day, and we'd walk to the Beacon Street bridge after, right around mile 25. We'd cheer people on and catch a train back to Watertown after half an hour or so. And in those 30 minutes, year after year, I'd feel so overwhelmingly proud of where I came from and where I've called home my entire life. Some day, I thought, just once, it would be cool to be on the other side of the fence.

And many years later, still with no intention of ever doing this, I started running, initially as a means to self-reflect and give myself an opportunity to think through difficult life decisions. Nothing serious - a few miles here and there. Then this pandemic showed up, and running became a means of (safely) getting fresh air and exercise in an otherwise stagnant time in our lives. Still nothing serious - a few miles here, a few more miles there. But what happened, very slowly, and over a long period of time, was that I kept getting inspired. Inspired by friends who had run Boston and told me all about it. Inspired by cheering runners on year after year. Inspired by people on the T proudly displaying their medals. And what happened, very slowly, and over a long period of time, was that I kept running. Seven miles here, then eight there, nine there, 10 once or twice, and finally 13.1 a few times. I even got a medal for running 13.1 miles one morning.

So now I have no excuse.

I've been talking myself into this for too long. I've been talking about this to my friends and family for too long. Too many times I missed out on running in July for the Run to Home Base program. Too many times I've cheered people on in a white jersey that says Boston instead of Red Sox. Too many times I've daydreamed about running down Beacon Street and seeing the Citgo sign.

To be able to even have the opportunity to run on Patriots' Day...I'm beyond grateful for this. Beyond grateful to raise money for the Run to Home Base program via MGH, and to help the lives of so many. I'm so excited for what's to come, and whatever support you can provide - a donation, a text, a fun sign on the course - means the world to me and is part of what makes doing this so damn special.

I'll see you on the other side of the fence.

Let letting go go

When I was applying to colleges, my application essay was about how I wanted to be like Gregory House. I wanted to know everything, ask all the questions, find all the answers. I even wrote about how I wouldn't stop bothering my friend when he changed his first name from the shorthand version to the full version on Facebook. This necessity to know has long been prevalent - I also recall my AP Psych class and how I wrote down "not knowing" as one of my biggest fears. That could be as small as not knowing the answer to a question on an exam, as medium as not knowing why someone does the things they do (or why someone cares about the things someone else does), or as large as not knowing what happens to us after we die.

I've been proportionately afraid of those things over the course of the past 10+ years, but I'm finally starting to learn to let go. To acknowledge my fear, to acknowledge the uncertainty of a situation, and to let it go, and to come back to my breath and the present moment. It doesn't matter as much to me anymore why people do the things they do, or why people care about the things other people do. (Sometimes it still gets to me, though - nobody's perfect.) It still cares the hell out of me to not know what happens to us after we die, and to conceive of inconceivability, but that's always a passing fear. It leaves as easily as it arrives.

I'm still working on letting go of letting go, and the idea that telling people I'm letting something go still counts for as much. It doesn't. It still counts, sure, but not as much as it would if I simply let go of letting go. I suppose this is the higher-level state of consciousness that comes with years of practice of meditation (I still have a ways to go). In the meantime, I'll continue to be mindful of my reactions and turning them into responses. I'll be mindful of when I do let something go, and I'll be mindful of when I let something sit with me for longer than I want it to. I'll be mindful of letting go of letting go, acknowledging that, and coming back to the breath.

That's all we know we have.

Dear everyone I ever really knew

Thank you for helping me get here. For helping me become the person I am now, and for allowing me the space to become the person I needed to be. Yes, it's unfortunate that I couldn't get here with you still by my side, and sure, there were instances in which I needed to create that space, but I am who I am and you were a big part of that. You still are, whether or not we talk anymore. Rarely do I turn down an opportunity to reflect on what we had, what it meant to me, and, after I came out the other side, how it helped me become a more true version of myself. It doesn't matter if our time lasted one night, one month, or one quarter of a decade. Everything that's ever happened to me has gotten me to this point, including you, and I don't want to (nor will I) shy away from acknowledging that truth. It's important for me to internalize that we won't have anything close to what we did, if anything at all - that's been a struggle for me to come to terms with in some instances - but as I once convinced myself, it's possible to love what you had with someone without loving that person anymore. So thank you for what we had, and thank you for being important to me even without what we had. I wouldn't give it back, because then I wouldn't be me.

That time I was kind of into Christian Rock

I'm Not Alright - Sanctus Real: https://open.spotify.com/track/7JGHawrvcWIl3SqQAJpg1t?si=_0iU_ASmRNuDEJmTzyyjEA

The Way I Feel - 12 Stones: https://open.spotify.com/track/6pd7MGEdSsaXwJblBVML31?si=2V4McJgZSPaChyysGacq9Q

The Stone - Ashes Divide: https://open.spotify.com/track/2TM6fTuwo1ZjMfvFfcFVDA?si=hxz4emDkQ72R6Uc1uAgDpg

Beautiful Things - Gungor: https://open.spotify.com/track/06wxyCQFJOT0bjvSPMQj7x?si=0fdtwWMTSWqnMFH_5HvlHg

You Are - Tenth Avenue North: https://open.spotify.com/track/2oigyp1WR2YjWmAO53QZIv?si=Ufegp1K-TAyLzo9QA31E9g

Untouchable - Luna Halo: https://open.spotify.com/track/4jN00WozLkOiXwNpiM0l7V?si=Zgng1TGiSPCmLPrbdAYqMg

Juner - Polydream: https://open.spotify.com/track/0CqYvXV6tRpxZDSuSinfa9?si=aVsaGXjwS0Km33dGOmboVw

Texting bad, pt. 2

It's amazing how many times Walter does or doesn't almost get pulled over

Dude Tuco is a fucking madman

There's gotta be a YouTube video of every scene Tuco is in and it's gotta be fucking wild

It's tough, because Walter really does care about his family, but he's also a huge asshole and criminal, but also also it's not like he can tell his family what he's doing

I didn't realize Ted (from I.F.T.) came into the picture so early. Literally; Skyler was looking at a picture of him in one of the episodes a couple back

Also is Walt wearing green ever explained? I know Marie wearing purple is a thing but I feel like no one talked about Walter always wearing green

Man the first "that's church yo, for real" from Skinny Pete hits so good

Hank's anxiety really doesn't get explored as much as it could've been

Holy shit Breaking Bad really took it from "one of our three dealers got murdered" to "let's go work with a multi-million dollar corporation" in the same episode

Here's what's good about waiting five years to rewatch - you know Walt misses the birth of his daughter, but you forget that Beneke was there with Skyler and then the camera pans to show him and BOOM

They do a good job of making some of the secondary relationships in S2 seem important in the moment but are really meaningless in the grand scheme

Some of the best shows elevate characters and elevate the plot so well. BB, Mr Robot, Lost all have these plateaus where it stops being all about doing heroin in an apt, or getting off an island

It's probably later than it should've been, but the moment I start really hating Walter is when he lets Jane die. Like yeah he cries and is visibly upset, but he also has that Heisenberg look in his eyes and it's probably the first moment where you're shocked at how far he's let this go

Like even missing the birth of his daughter kind of made sense

The writing and acting in Prison Mike's first scene is incredible. Does an amazing job of getting us to buy in immediately that he's good at what he does

Fuck man the Skyler scene when she leaves after finding out Gretchen and Elliot didn't give a dime and he never saw his mom, I think I'm rooting for the damn bitch now

3x3 Hank's in the bar with Gomey and he spots the druggies. Quick anxiety flash in the bathroom

For all the things Walter did, getting Saul's assistant to help make up Marie being in the hospital might be the coldest

And what a great foil it is that Hank leaves his work to go see her in the hospital, when Walter missed the birth of his daughter for his work

Ah okay in the episode where Hank kills Threeco (the shootout in the parking lot of the supermarket where absolutely no one calls the police (although it did go quickly enough that they reasonably couldn’t get there in time)) also has Hank telling Marie about his anxiety after killing Tuco

Yeah the fly episode is definitely the worst episode. Maybe of any TV show

Yeah the prison Mike half measure story was great

It's a subtle move - possibly not even enough to call it foreshadowing - but the beginning of the song that plays for Gus's final walk, those drum beats appear ever so slightly in some other scenes where you'd think someone was going after someone

But like don't you just want to take a baseball bat to Skyler's head

If it helps, I'd get some satisfaction from throwing Hank off a cliff with all his minerals, too

I do remember saying the first time around that I'm not really rooting for anyone at a certain point, and this is probably it

Yeah the "someone has to protect this family from the man who protects this family" line is lethal

Yeah still totally in disbelief over the hospital with all of Fring's / Mike's / Jesse's blood just in case

Bill Burr and Hewell are an excellent team

Yeah fuck Gus fixing his tie before he falls over and dies

Still love how Skinny Pete is out-of-nowhere a stellar pianist

"and wait...for the cancer to come back" is another fucking lethal line

"there are heists where the guys get away, and there are heists that leave witnesses" Breaking Bad quote that sounds like it could be in GTA

Still unsure if "say my name" or "you're god damn right" is cornier

Like imagine if Hank only had to go number one

Yep it was To'Halijee that's the episode with Hank catching Walter in the desert and the shootout with Todd's family. That's the one that made me want to finish the series in one shot. Ozymandias is the next after that then one more then Felina

Show and tell

I'm writing this blog post after having watched the episode of Black Mirror called Smithereens, and it's important for me to note that to myself the next time I decide to read this - anchoring oneself in your position in time is important.

Do we ever need to unplug from life, man. I fully recognize the irony in writing this on a laptop, while I stream music from my iPhone to my JBL Bluetooth speakers (something I've brought up in the past), but that sort of connectedness isn't precisely what I'm getting at here.

I'm getting at this bullshit idea that social media helps us connect with people, or keep in touch with people, or whatever you want to call it. I'm not sure what the best phrase is. I don't think it does that at all, or at least not well. What do you really know about someone from their social media presence? (Related - why is 'social media presence' even a phrase we care about?) Here's what I ate for dinner tonight. Here's a dog I saw walking around today. Here are some pictures from this thing I did. Here's the music I'm listening to right now. I'm a victim of some of these things (okay, usually only the last one), but the point is that I'm imploring people to engage with (another bullshit buzzword) something I care about. Maybe it's because I don't care all that much about food or dogs (and I'm not calling anyone out directly; these are simply the most readily-available examples), but I cannot fathom why people think I (or anyone else) cares about some dog I don't even know and they don't even know.

And it's not like I think everything I have to say is worthwhile, either. Trust me. I'm sure there are people who could give a shit what sports games I'm going to or what music I'm listening to. Like I said, I'm victim to some of these things, too.

What I'm getting at (and yes, as usual, I've said this in far more words than I've needed to (but what is life if lived concisely?)) is that I don't want you to show me the filtered, fabricated, ideal of what you think your life should be seen as. Frankly, I don't care. I care about what you think about as you lay in bed, wide awake. I care about what upsets you, what makes you feel alive, where you find beauty in this universe. Social media isn't only bad at being an outlet to find out those things about people - it's straight-up poisoning us and turning us into addicts for the instantaneous, fake happiness of scrolling through other people's lives.

And yeah, when I'm done with this post, my natural inclination is going to be to check my phone and go on Instagram, just because it's something to do. I need to make a list of things that are more enjoyable than going on Instagram to see what people I barely talk to are doing on this Friday night. I could start with playing piano, I could go for a walk along the water, hell I could just lay in bed and think.

It's not a perfect analogy to this, because it pertains to quotes, but it's been on my mind ever since I've been thinking about the conversations I want to be having with people.

"I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The end is never the end

Questions to consider about our path and the paths of others with which it crosses...

Do things run their course, or is their course never run?

Does this only happen within a pocket of time, a phase or stage of life, or is everything one unit?

Do people really change, or do they become more true versions of who they were always going to be?

It feels right that things run their course within a phase of life. This goes back to what I've always believed about looking back and understanding how small you were compared to what you are now. I'm not sure I believe people change, although I do think I believe people grow. There are a lot of things I've experienced in my life, a lot of phases/stages, that I've come out the other side of having been a better person who has grown a lot as a result. There's almost always some collateral damage, but that might be what's required of us to grow (this is a good example of something being necessary vs. sufficient - collateral damage is necessary for growth (although I've never truly mastered this idea of necessary vs. sufficient, so who's to say)).

In the universal scheme of life, we've never truly run our full course with ideas or people. We're always evolving, always understanding more, and it's simply in smaller phases/stages of life that mini-courses are run. Checkpoints, if you will. You experience something with someone, that mini-course is run, and you come out the other side having grown as a person, with a little baggage. But our full, universal courses are never run.

Sine curve

I miss going on train-of-thought excursions through my blog. It's a fun exercise that I don't really do anymore, and it might be because some of the passions I had while at Stonehill aren't with me now. I thought about the most important things I learned in college, and read how into the idea of students leading the learning charge I was, and then thought if I actually felt that passionately anymore.

Spoiler alert - I don't. Which is totally okay with me, because I'm not at Stonehill living this out every day. I'm not talking about these ideas with five different people a week, and I'm not blogging about it. One of the first dogmas of how to read college literature that I learned was to always be cognizant of the position in time/history the author is coming from. Particularly relevant in whatever 14th-century Chaucer I may or may not have read for reasons I cannot recall, but I remember the idea being important.

So I think about this idea a little more, and this is totally a thing. Everything that we encounter in our life has a time chart of what it means to us. Ideals we hold to be true, relationships with people, motivations for us getting out of bed in the morning...all of these change over time. (Aside - do we change over time? I've always thought not, but if everything about us is changing, is it possible for us to remain the same in the midst of it?) People we lose touch with, beliefs we have, there are ideal times for us to have those in our lives, and there are less-than-ideal times. That, I believe, is a driving force of why we fall in and out of relationships and struggle (or find it easy) to believe in God. Or even fail to blog as often as much.

So, just a thought. Being at a great place in your life can have many different meanings. It might be because the universe is throwing a fastball down the middle of the plate. Swing away.