The Joys/Struggles of being a Player/Coach

One aspect of the Callahan discussion that I don’t think has been given enough attention is the fact that Jim Foster, while being the Hodags go-to player, is also their coach. This write-up isn’t meant in any way to diminish the accomplishments or talents of any of the other front-runners for Callahan (Mac, Stevie, Will) but to say that these players have all benefitted heavily from having a coach. I know from playing against the three guys I mentioned above that they are studs on the field and command the respect of their teammates and opponents. I have seen Mac, Stevie and Will do amazing things on the field and know that they are leaders in the huddles and most likely have a strong influence on their team’s strategy/personnel/ line calling etc.

 

What I do want to talk about what its like to be a player/coach on a top-level ultimate team. Let me just say from the start that it’s really f-ing hard. Even with the support of your teammates having a responsibility to your team in two different facets takes a high level of patience, focus and dedication, especially if you are able to continue to play at a high level. On the Hodags we know that the player who takes the role as the “senior captain” is sacrificing quite a bit. Having been in that position myself I was almost crushed under the pressure of having to be a playmaker on the field while retaining my responsibility to coach and run the team. The transition b/w being the junior captain (i.e. first year captain) to senior captain (second year) was a jump I wasn’t fully prepared for during my last year of college ultimate. Knowing that Tom Burkly, my senior captain in 2006, was gone scared the shit out of me. I was entrusted with a team that had just come off an incredible season that came up just short of a national title. The pressure was on us to deliver a championship. Due to this weight, my play suffered severely the first half of the 2007 season. I played (what I consider) the worst game of my ultimate career in the finals of Vegas (a universe point loss to Florida,) as a direct result of feeling like I had to “be the guy” while trying to coach, call subs, change strategy etc. I was lucky enough to have guys around me during that game who picked up my slack (Jim Foster for one, had an incredible game, highlighted by a ridiculous sky of Kurt Gibson off some trash I threw into the end zone), but in the end the loss was on me and my inability to successful function as both a player and a coach. 

 

Throughout the season I knew that I wasn’t playing at the best of my ability b/c I was so focused on the rest of the team. Sure I could lock in while a point was being played, but being in that mindset throughout the game is not a luxury you have when you’re responsible for gauging all the different factors of a particular point/game/day/tournament or season. Having this sort of responsibility on a college team, whose goals are so high, is incredibly challenging. Its not like in Club where you can count on the majority of your teammates knowing where they should be and what they should be doing. And with the premium the Hodags have always placed on developing younger players, the distraction to a captain’s individual game can be huge. I don’t mean to imply at all that Jim is doing it all on his own, or that the other Hodags aren’t doing enough. In my time as a captain with the Hodags I had an amazing support system during my last year which included Matt Rebholz, Dan Miller, Muffin, Matt Scallet, Jack Marsh and yes, Jim Foster.  I know Jim has the same. These players made up the leadership core of the team and we got together often to discuss strategy, personnel, schedules etc.

 

But come tournament time, a lot falls on the shoulders of the senior captain, in this case Jim Foster. He has been entrusted with a team that has won back-to-back national championships, but that has lost many of the familiar faces that made them up. As was mentioned in Jon Gaynor’s recent post: gone from last year are 5^th year players like Shane Hohenstein, Drew Mahowald, Matt Rebholz, Will Lokke, Muffin, Kevin Riley, Chris Doede and Seth Meyer. Each of these players was invaluable over the past two seasons. The strong, vocal, experienced 5^th year presence is perhaps not as evident this season compared to seasons past. Yet look at what Wisconsin has accomplished so far this season. Perhaps not the dominant regular season from the past 3 seasons, but a guaranteed top 4 seed in what has been the craziest college ultimate season we’ve seen for the last 6 or 7 years. He has molded a team comprised of the most inexperienced players the Hodags have had since the turn of the century into one of the few teams with a shot to win nationals.

 

And despite what you might think about the top programs in the country, it is not easy to stay this good from season to season. Especially when the knowledge and responsibility is not embodied in a coach who has been there year after year, but actually passed down from player to player, each season interpreted and implemented slightly differently. That Jim has been able to individually have the season he’s had is nothing short of remarkable. It is a testament to his focus, his determination and his love for his Hodags. I get razzed quite a bit from former teammates for throwing around love like this, but it is true for us. That’s why we scream Hodag Love before games/after games/after practice/and whenever we get together. That’s why Hodags play like they do and that’s why Jim can scream, “We’re the fucking Hodags” in a huddle and it has an immediate response. It is an amazing thing to be a Hodag: To be part of something each season that is incredibly unique yet so clearly connected to the teams of the past, and I know that captaining them has so far been the privilege and honor of Jim’s life.  We take it pretty seriously in Madison.

 

And despite the frustration that I’m sure sets in for Jim from time to time, wishing that maybe for a game or a practice he could forget being a captain and just play, he knows its worth it. Sure it makes the losses harder to stomach, but the wins are that much sweeter. And if you’re lucky enough to make it to Columbus, and to watch the Hodags the play, you’ll see them play with an intensity that is unmatched, spurred forward by their leader. The best and most valuable player in the country: Jim Foster.

My Christina's World

The joy of great art is that one is able to make of it what they want. For example: the Andrew Wyeth painting Christina’s World is supposedly a testament to a young woman’s physical depravity, as we see her the farthest she’s ever been from her home; sitting alone in the middle of a field staring back at her farm house. For the artist this painting was intended to evoke feelings of pity, sadness and injustice that such should be the fate of this young woman. However, when I look at this painting I am invigorated. From the moment I saw it in poster form hanging from my brother’s bedroom wall I became subtly obsessed by it. I visited the original at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City and bought the poster myself which hung on the wall in every room I’ve lived in since.
To be honest, I don’t care what Wyeth’s vision for this painting was, apart from that he wished to create something beautiful. The painting makes me happy, I can’t really explain it any better. I want to be Christina, as I’ve constructed her in my own mind; a beautiful, peaceful, content woman enjoying a few stolen hours, sitting alone in a vast expanse of Nebraskan prairie. Even when I learned of the painting’s inspiration: a young crippled woman, and the beginning of her crawl back to her home, I was only heartbroken for a few moments. I realized that it didn’t matter to me because she wasn’t the Christina of my mind.
I wonder what the painter would think of my interpretation of this work; whether or not he would be disappointed that I don’t appreciate the painting for the reasons that inspired its creation. Perhaps this is actually the mark of great art. It opens its doors to interpretation and allows one to interact with it in the way they choose, or in the way that’s natural for them.

Want

Maybe what I am really into is this idea of want. What do we want, what do I want, what do you want? And taking that a step further, does a realization of this help you achieve it? Probably it does, but what of all of us who know, not exactly what we want, but what we don’t. How different are these two? Seems that they are very different. One rests upon action, the other inaction. How in control of these are we? How capable are we actually of knowing what that want is and then going through with it?

I find people who seem to know what they want fascinating. I wonder if they are actually like me and just have vague inklings of desire, or if they are concrete. There have been times when after receiving what I thought I wanted I am left unsatisfied or that it was something else altogether that I didn’t even realize I’d been yearning for. The unseen unknown desire. Personally the wants are too abstract to know how to pursue or will the result of other progressions. For example, I want an outdoor shower. This sounds trivial and it it, but I know that I want it, and I know that when I get it I will love it. This makes me feel good to know, and I can learn something about myself through this want. I also know that I want to . . . . waiting waiting. I wrote that expecting something to pop into my head but nothing did. Maybe I need a list of wants, something to be constantly added to at different moments, when something pops into my head. And not necessities like: I want to eat or I want to go to the bathroom, but real wants,

Future wants. I don’t really like that term but it makes sense here.

Characters from movies and books have been fascinating me lately as well. I cant get the Joker out of my head. To the point where I just googled “Joker essays” and have spent the last hour reading someone’s blog alluding to the defining moment when he truly became the antagonist to Batman. The blog stated it was some edition of a comic where his face is fixed into a grin, that he can’t help but look the way he does. Pretty interesting actually. You can read about it here. What makes the Joker so intoxicatingly complex and compelling to me is his assurance at what he wants. He doesn’t have inner-strife like Batman. He does what he wants and he is who he is. It just so happens that what he wants and who he is, is chaos. He is not so appealing b/c he’ll do anything, its because the anything is what he wants. How I wish I was gifted with this type of peace of mind. I would do anything for it, I have become obsessed with it lately actually. How can I not know what I want? Isn’t that what makes me an individual, what separates me from others? If not entirely, then at least a part of what sets me apart, and everyone else from me. What then can I say about my individuality and about my personhood when I can’t even figure out for myself what I want. Or maybe I’m doing it right now, that’s a thought. Sitting here wasting my time writing on this.

Today my friend asked me if I wanted to write. And I answered him that I want to want to be a writer. Does that make sense? I want to have that drive, to feel that need for something, whatever it is. I want the Joker’s confidence. But now what right? I’ve established that I don’t know, what’s next. And maybe it is here that I am the most lost, or want to be the most careful. I think this experience is not one that I am alone in feeling. I know there are some who just know right, or least they claim they do, who knows maybe they’re lying. But there are those who get into high school and they know they want to be a doctor, or that they want to play in majors. The lucky ones who don’t weigh themselves down with excess thought, it only gets you into trouble anyway. And there’s the issue for me, I have a problem with just doing. Always have, and in some ways I’m thankful for that.

I’ve never done just to do, or rather haven’t made a habit of it. This gets me in trouble but also keeps me sane. I am not sure what I am holding out for though, or if my idea of holding out is a result of cowardice and will be eventually overcome, not by redeeming action, but by fear. I am afraid for the day when I have to, and will be because of that fear. The fear of unknown that pushes you down a path you know you don’t want. This is to be avoided. But then how, and when will I know where that desire is. What it’s burning for. Will is hit me one day? Will I be blessed with a certainty of purpose that will guide me the rest of my day or will I continue to wait for a revelation that will never come? This is where I am right now. Its not a bad place to be, but a strange one, I’ve been here a while, and its getting old.

Old Stuff, But still kinda new

The following posts from September 12 were taken from previous entries. The go in order from earliest to latest, starting from the first post at the beginning. they are dated accordingly

Free Free Free

Originally written - August 1, 2007

I am not feeling very free lately. I am feeling as though most of what I am doing falls under the “have to” category, which is a recipe for a semi-freedom-less existence. That sounds pretty dramatic and I certainly don’t mean to be a complainer (or maybe I do. It is nice, after all, to unload all your shit every once in a while). This idea of freedom is one that has haunted me for quite some time. We all want to be free to make our own choices right? To have a level of agency in our lives, to feel like we are calling the shots. But this takes for granted first and foremost that we actually know what we want . . . doesn’t it. I know that I can’t speak for everyone, but I don’t really have any idea what I want, I am just sort of guessing these days. Sure there are bits that I am sure of . . . I want love, I want purpose, I want to enjoy each day. But how vague are these desires? Is that the point: that we think we want all these specifics i.e. the right job, the right city, the right gf/bf, when in fact what we are really after is something much broader.

I had a conversation with a friend a few months ago and we were really getting in to what each of us wanted, and they were surprisingly simple. We wanted to be loved, to love someone in return and to be free in our choices and decisions, to feel as though our lives were not being lived by any one other than ourselves. This might sound selfish or self-absorbed, but I don’t think it is. And I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I was watching an extremely forgettable movie last night that had few redeeming qualities, but one line really stuck with me. It’s a pseudo-philosophic question that sounds a bit contrived, but I believe deserves to be mulled over for a bit. It’s something like this . . . .

The only question worth asking yourself is whether or not you should commit suicide.

Now let me be frank and forward when I say that this question should be not taken literally, but rather analyzed for what it’s really asking. According to my interpretation of this question, we should not be seriously contemplating suicide or viewing life as a disposable privilege but rather, assuming you would in fact choose life, what that entails. To me, answering that you do, in fact, want to live means a number of things . . . It means that in your estimation life is more joy than pain and more happiness than sorrow. It means that I am allowing all the bad things in the world to affect me, b/c I believe that the good outweighs them.

This is not to say that I believe in general goodness, because I do not. This isn’t a pessimistic view of the world, but rather an open acknowledgement of humanity’s general shortcomings and failures. No doubt this sounds fairly defeatest and perhaps it is Perhaps it is this acknowledgement of defeat which enables us to experience freedom. I don’t mean freedom in the sense of American as a free country, but rather in one’s personal freedom from self and from externally produced, yet inwardly experienced expectation. Why do we feel these “have to’s”? What inside us feels the need to produce, to fulfill others and our own agendas? Certainly drive is not an evil concept, but perhaps we’ve been deceived in the world’s claim that it produces contentment.

I have been told for as long as I can remember, by friends, parents and teachers that I have the skill and the brain to produce in school as I should, yet for some reason I have been unable to muster the drive necessary to excel. What will I gain from this drive that I could not experience with out it. . . . an interesting question. My mother has been famous for saying things like “The more you do now, or the better you do, the more options are opened for your future.” In some ways she is absolutely right. By performing well in school, I open myself up for a wider range of opportunities after I graduate, thus giving me more freedom . . . right? But what of living for myself, what of the years I spend toiling away for the chance or opportunity that will make my life? What if it doesn’t live up to its promise, what if, at the end of it all I am left unsatisfied, having been robbed a chance to really live in the now by obsessing over the future.

Where is the line between planning for the unknown, but continuing to actively pursue joy. Because after all isn’t that really what I want. Above all else, don’t I just want to be happy? Don’t I just want someone to love me and for me to love them back? Don’t I just want to spend time with these people and to bask in their returned affection? Right now, the next sentence I write could be something to do with knowing that this isn’t all to life . . . but isn’t it. Aren’t these the moments we passively plan for. At the root of our desire, won’t we find other people? Maybe our problem isn’t not taking life seriously enough . . . its taking it to seriously. Maybe we would be better served asking ourselves what we’re really after, what our life’s aim actually is.

All I can honestly say right now is that I want joy. This is what I want. There are many facets that go into this end, but above everything else I want this freedom. Freedom from my self, freedom from my own expectation and freedom to actually allow love to transform my life.

Joseph the Stud

Originally written - January 29, 2007

Alright . . .it’s been a while. Let’s see what I got. . . . How about some of the particulars, and then I’ll go from there. See if any of these subjects tickle my proverbial fancy.

School, school school school. I don’t want to talk about this at all. I have 1.5 classes that actually seem cool and all the others seem terrible, but only in the “I hate science, I can’t believe I have to take this shit” sort of way. I am currently enrolled in 2 “ologies” and 1 “ography”, not really cool or fun at all. I also have two English classes and an African American lit, which seems legit.

But, as previously stated talking about school isn’t really fun for me, especially when I don’t have anything mixing me up inside, which brings me to something I want to talk about. A movie I just saw: Children of Men. This movie, as you are probably aware takes place in the future, a world where women have become sterile and there is no one on the earth under the age of 18. There are no babies, no toddlers, no teens (19 year olds don’t count as teens in case you were wondering). First of all, a world with no children would really suck, forgetting for the moment that it could spell doom for our species, it just wouldn’t be pleasant. I don’t care who you are, or what you pretend to say to other people, everyone loves children. Maybe not all the time, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t enjoy watch a little kid do something that little kids do i.e. pee on a nearby tree b/c they don’t know any better. Everyone would love that, I know that I love it when my nephew does it, I laugh every time I see it. You’re soulless if you don’t (Christiaan? Hahahaha)

Anyway, the movie centers around Theo, a middle-aged man who seems to be disconnected from the world around him, and generally apathetic to its state. But ah, there’s hope to be found. In a young woman named Kee (aptly), a baby is growing; a baby that proves that hope still exists for humanity. I am going to spare the details of the movie for two reasons. One – I really don’t feel like giving you a summary, that would be boring for you and especially boring for me. Two – the movie is worth watching on its own.

I will say this about the movie, the baby lives. But there really isn’t a doubt that Kee will give birth and somehow, someway will survive. You aren’t convinced all the time, but with movies like this you know it can’t end with no sense of hope. I was convinced for another reason as well . . . it became clear to me a little way into the movie that this film was a sort of modern or hyper-modern retelling of the birth of Jesus, centered around Joseph (Theo). I have always had a bit of a difficult time with Christmas in the Christian sense. Of course it’s a nice story, but others around me seem to be a bit more affected by the birth of our supposed savior that I am, or should say, had been.

This could be due in some part to the fact that I have heard the story so so so so so many times, It was drilled into my head at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in New Canaan (my hometown), and I was even forced by my parents to take place in the Christmas pageant. I remember one year being given a box, wrapped up very nicely which I was supposed to deliver to the front of the Church during the pageant as a symbol of Christ’s gift of everlasting life. I made sure to save the box, which I subsequently gave to my brother Christiaan for Christmas a few days later. He was stunned that I had bought him a present and had wrapped it so nicely, however when he opened it up to find nothing inside I think he was clued in to the fact that I had neither bought him a present nor wrapped it (a lot like this Christmas). But I think he got found it slightly amusing when I told him that it was the gift of eternal life. I must say it was a brilliant move on my part, and proved to be only the first step in a long line of under par gifts others have received on my behalf. I am not sure what genre of gift giver or receiver I would most relate with, but you can read about some of my favorites in a previous blog.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. Due to my upbringing and the number of times that I have heard or read the nativity story, I have never felt the wonder and awe that some of my family and friends have. My mom cries every Christmas, except maybe this one where she spent the majority of the service asleep (hahahahaha). Let it be known that my mom is a bit of a crier anyway, but there is something about the birth of Jesus that just floors her, and I get a little pissed sometimes when I see her crying. Not because I am mad she is crying, but because I wish it would invoke some of the same feelings in me that it does in her.

This is where Children of Men helped me, and could potentially help you. Obviously the story is different. It takes place more than two thousand years later in a world torn apart (even more than ours) by war, corruption and the knowledge that humanity is going extinct. But this is where the movie hits you, or hit me: Theo. Theo Theo. Any Greek scholars out there?? (theos = god, I think). But the biblical allusions are much more widespread than I care to dive into (or could . . . I am too dumb, and don’t have the monetary capabilities of re-watching the film over and over). Theo, as the Joseph character, brought me close to tears by the time the film was over. I mean could you imagine you were Joseph??? Holy Fuck. You’re starting to see this woman, and she seems pretty nice, above average on the hot-o-meter with a decent rack. (pure speculation, but you have to think that Mary would have more than up to the charge of nourishing our Lord and Savior. God would have chosen someone equal to the task if you know what I mean) But then out of nowhere she gets preggers!!! WTF, what the fuck?? Then she has the nerve to tell you that an angel told her that she would give birth to the savior of the world. I would have told her to put a damp washcloth on her forehead and lie down for a day or two. I mean you’re a carpenter, skating by (ha!) on bottom half wages. You aren’t married to this woman (which was a no-no back in the day), and for all intents and purposes she is totally crazy, and so are you if you chose to stay by her side.

But Joseph is no ordinary guy. You could guess that if God chose Mary due in some part to her endowment than he must have chose Joseph because he had gigantic balls. Let’s get serious; Joseph is underrated, completely underrated. This is partly due to those crazy Catholics and their Mary worship (I’m just kidding, I love Catholics and I love Mary too) but regardless, Joseph gets no respect. He certainly didn’t get any respect from me either until I watched this movie. And it was Theo that did it for me. This guy is the absolute man. He’s not some swash-buckling (is this only reserved for pirates?? Can we get a ruling), gun toting bad bass. He’s a confused, mixed up man living on his guts and a faith and hope that this woman can be saved. He doesn’t know how it will happen, but he knows that this baby is humanity’s only hope. You have to wonder what Joseph was thinking . . . Herod’s killing the first borns and here I am riding on an f-ing donkey in the middle of nowhere when my un-sexed up wife starts going into labor. The baby, this savior is then born in a filthy barn, ill equipped for any child, and certainly not the triumphant entrance of the Prince of Heaven.

This is our God, this is our baby. Born from two scared shitless teenagers with a world of hate, anger and despair slowly creeping in on them. This is why this movie rocked me so much. I knew they were going to live, I knew the baby would make it . . . but only if a couple miracles happened along the way. This is what we can expect from God. It’s gonna work out, sometimes things will get fucked up, and sometimes we’ll need a few miracles, but when it really comes down to it . . . there He is, ready to do what it takes for all of us poor bastards. I quote Drugs Delaney from Outside Providence when I say: “Fuckin’ God man .. . . He’s alright.”

Think about it for a second. Really think about it. It actually happened. There actually was a person named Joseph. There really was a Mary. And there really was a Jesus. And he was born in a fucking barn. It must have smelled awful. I’ll bet it was cold. I’ll bet they were terrified. I’ll bet they didn’t know what to expect. And I’ll bet they were overjoyed, b/c lying in front of them was a little baby, new born. Crying and cooing, looking around for the first time, and trying to take it all in. This is my God, this is my baby Jesus . . . what a total badass. What an absolute stud. And I’ll bet that for all the doubt, the hardship and the fear that once Joseph saw that little guy he was crying harder than my mom does during our Christmas service. He knew. Theo knew. And to be honest, now a part of me knows. So if I never say it again, I am saying it now: Joseph . . . you’ve got my mark, congratulations on your beautiful baby boy.

Lazy Day, Good Day.

Origianally written - January 9, 2007

Lazy Days. This is one of my favorite songs. It’s by a chick named Leona Naess and sort of chronicles the events and feeling of those days when you don’t have anything to do, anyone to impress, no responsibilities etc. “soak up some lazy days, no one can rain on our parade” blah blah blah. I am having a lazy day right now, and its everything I hoped it could be. It reminds me of Office Space when Peter decides that he isn’t going to go work that day. When asked about what he did he replies: “I did nothing. I did nothing all day, and it was everything I hoped it could be” hahaha, this is hilarious to me. Here is my schedule for today / the next week and a half . . .

930 – 1130 wake up
930ish/1130ish – sometime before 2:00 pm – sort of lay around, drift in and out of sleep / make or go out for breakfast, drink lots of coffee, start the crossword puzzle
2:20 pm – drop off Michi at work /
230 – 6 – I have some options here: on M/W/F – I have from 230 – 6 to work out at the uptown YWCA and then hang out at Dunn Brother’s til Michi is done with work. On T/R – this time is extended from 230 – 830. Today is a Tuesday so I am at May Day’s, another café type place, where I’ll be until around 6ish, then I’ll go start my work out. During my alone time, I try to finish the crossword puzzles (there are two in the star trib. Hooooray!!!), read, write, check email/facebook, and think about how much starting school will suck, but how awesome ultimate will be.
630/830-bedtime – during this expanse of time we’ll get dinner, sit around, go out to a bar, go out to a movie, hang at the house, play trivial pursuit, and really do whatever we want.
Bedtime – this can be from 11pm to after 2am depending on the night. Bedtime is fun b/c I get to go to sleep, and next to someone I love. This is a good thing. That’s why they say bedtime is the best time – actually I just made that up, but I am copywriting it so step off . . . I’m talking about steppin’ off (anyone get the Class Act reference? Probably only smear would get that one, maybe Christiaan but I doubt that he actually reads this. For those of you who don’t know, Class Act is a coming of age story starring Kid and Play, yes THAT Kid and Play, the one’s from House Party. Their identities get switched and they find out that they can be whoever they want to be blah blah. It’s actually a brilliant film full of some extremely quotable lines)

Today is a great day. Yesterday was a great day, and I am hopeful that tomorrow will be more of the same. I love it here, although my perception of what mpls is like may be a bit skewed. You see, the majority of time that I have spent here has been leisure time. I have done very little in this city that hasn’t revolved around two of my loves: Ultimate and my girly. My days this summer were spent very similarly to how they are now with one exception: Michi never had to work, so we would just hang out all day/everyday for the most part, barring the times when I had ultimate stuff or when she got sick of hanging out with me. We’d wake up late, go for walks, drink coffee, play games, drink beer, eat cantaloupe (for those of you who don’t know, few combinations will beat cantaloupe and Pete’s Wicked Ale . . . try it, you’ll be amazed) and go out with friends. I say with 99.5% certainty that I had more fun this summer than you did. This is not meant as a dis, but to stress to you the contentment this summer brought to me on a daily basis. Never before and probably never again (sadly) will I feel such an elongated period of freedom, fun and fancy (alliteration WHAT!). Obviously this period of time brought with it some negatives: most obvious was the lack of money I made due to my lack of employment. I actually HAD a job, but I really hated it. It was incentive based, and I had no incentive, therefore I made very little. Bummer? A little, but I wouldn’t have traded this summer for any amount of money – Truth.

As for truth and contentment . . . it's hard to argue with these when you find them, and find them I believe I have. (that sentence was a grammatical nightmare . . . but remember who’s sovereign here . . . moving on). I would consider myself a happy person. I have been called an emotional roller coaster at times, and rightfully so (I cried twice on Christmas day for example), but all in all I try to make the best of any given situation. The beauty about the time I spend in this city is that the times when I have “to try and make the best of it” are few and far between. I know that it won’t always be like this, and that hard times are always right around the corner, but the feeling I have while here in this city, is one of liberation and contentment. I am very happy today, I am very happy right now. I’ve had a wonderful break up until this moment, and I hope and pray that it will continue in this trend. This coming semester promises to be my most challenging. I am again loading up on credits, while trying to lead my ultimate team to a nationals victory all while being largely separated from the person I love the most. But I am welcoming the challenge. I am sure I won’t be at times . . . and there will be times when I have two papers due tomorrow, a vomit-inducing running workout tonight, and a span of 3 weeks when I haven’t seen the lady . . . but so it goes. Such is life and such is my reality, it certainly could be a lot worse. In fact I would say that 95% of all people polled would say that they would welcome this “challenge” over their personal challenges. I have a good life. I am very blessed and very lucky. I love this city and I am loving life right now. I have truth and I am content . . . for now. We’ll see where this goes.