I was feeling horrible earlier today. I was being lazy, sitting around my apartment, reading, listening to music, and all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch. Instead, I had made plans to run with Rachel and there was no way for me to cancel as we had set a time to meet in the park and she didn't have her phone with her. So I got my ass off the couch, changed into running clothes and headed out into the spring weather - ah, it's been such wonderful weather! - to meet Rachel. By the time I crossed Lexington, I was jogging, and then I was feeling much much better when I met Rachel. We did about 4 miles together and it felt great the whole time, except for the little aches and pains that have been coming and going ever since I started back a few weeks ago. After we were done, I felt like a completely new person. I was so glad I had to go for this run. For sure, before I was a runner - can I really call myself a runner? - I would have chosen to stay in and been a couch potato in a similar situation. Now, unless I am on my death-bed - or have a fracture - I will go out for a run no matter what. A little pain, a little rain or wind will not stop me! The reward: more energy and enthusiasm for the rest of life and always a better mood!
One of my best friends just started her internship in internal medicine. I can only imagine how crazy her life has been recently. She has also just gotten back into fencing: going twice a week whenever she can. She said that since she's had so little time, she's been more careful with managing it and actually has been finding it easier to manage. So true! Whenever I have had a lot of free time - when was that again, I can't remember anymore - I ended up wasting a lot more of it by being lazy and putting things off, saying "oh, I have so much time, I can just do this or that later..." Now, free time is something very precious, and life has been great! I feel more balanced (I wish I had just a little more time so I could squeeze a yoga class in here and there) and a lot more productive.
The only problem is, I need to think very hard about priorities! I have to practice saying no and be a little selfish sometimes, not let strangers stay in my apartment for weeks, not give in to the temptation to say yes every time a friend asks me to hang out, or to every fencing tournament I am asked to referee. Structure, balance, productivity, ability to say no, and hopefully stay sane are some of these priorities, goals to achieve in the near future, I suppose. And there is no room for failure now, NONE!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Faith in people
Someone I know has been doing jury duty for the grand jury - deciding if cases should go to trial or not - in NYC for a couple of weeks now. She said it was enough to spend one day in grand jury to completely lose her faith in humanity. I can only imagine, fortunately. I guess, might be one of the few benefits of being foreign: they can't make me do jury duty!
It's easy to say - and I do it often too - that there are so many bad things happening in the world, so many wars and senseless killings that humanity is simply doomed. However, I have had the good fortune to meet so many wonderful people along my path, who were absolutely selfless. Again, I have crossed paths with two such wonderful people, who, without even knowing me well, want to help in any way they can. If only for one night, I was invited into a world unknown to me: Ivy League Clubs, more specifically, the Yale Club. It's a place where people are expected to wear nice clothes even if just going to the library and the waiters in the "casual" dining room wear tuxedos. Not a place I would chose to go for dinner in New York, but wow, that salmon was delicious! And the warm chocolate cake for dessert... heavenly!
As Gandhi said, "You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."
It's easy to say - and I do it often too - that there are so many bad things happening in the world, so many wars and senseless killings that humanity is simply doomed. However, I have had the good fortune to meet so many wonderful people along my path, who were absolutely selfless. Again, I have crossed paths with two such wonderful people, who, without even knowing me well, want to help in any way they can. If only for one night, I was invited into a world unknown to me: Ivy League Clubs, more specifically, the Yale Club. It's a place where people are expected to wear nice clothes even if just going to the library and the waiters in the "casual" dining room wear tuxedos. Not a place I would chose to go for dinner in New York, but wow, that salmon was delicious! And the warm chocolate cake for dessert... heavenly!
As Gandhi said, "You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."
Sunday, November 8, 2009
New York moments
Life in New York can sometimes seem a little unreal, you can easily get carried away and find yourself feeling like you're a character in a movie.I have had some friends in town from Hungary this weekend, fencers, of course, and as they were walking on 34th St last night - without me - they saw a guy who looked like Mel Gibson. So they stopped and took a closer look. He must ahve noticed, and he went up to them, said "Hey, how are you?" and walked off. Apparently, it was Mel Gibson. And the girls were too shocked to even say Hi back.
I also found myself hanging out with the fencing crowd once again this weekend. A bunch of people from the Fencers Club - past and present members - gathered for some drinks at a nearby bar. There were a couple of guys there I vaguely remembered from the old days at fencing camp in Hungary. They had quit fencing a long time ago, but stayed in touch with some of the Hungarians from camp. We were kids, teenagers, when we met, there was a language barrier, I was incredibly shy, and so we never really talked. It was really interesting to see them after so many years.
Reminded me of this"New York moment".
This was a couple years back, I was waiting for a performance of Shakespeare in the Park, in Central Park, waiting for a friend - one of the visitors from this weekend, actually - who, at the time, still lived in New York. I was just standing around the park, when a man came up to me and asked me to sign some sort of political petition (this was pre-Obama elections). I told him I wasn't a citizen and there was no point to me signing since I couldn't vote anyway. He then asked me where I was from, and I told him Hungary. He said "Oh, what a conincidence, I used to go to Hungary all the time to fencing camp." I was sure I heard something wrong. I asked him what he had said. He repeated that he used to go to fencing camp in Hungary, with his children. I said, that's really a coincidence, because I used to go to fencing camp too. He asked, "Was it in Szombathely?" Yes, it was. I asked him who his children were: Katie and James Cavan. Holy shit, of course, I know Katie, we used to fence a lot, she was at Columbia when I was in college, we fenced at national tournaments too, and I had known her since were 12 or so from camp. And James, her younger brother, whom I had never spoken to before, was at the bar this weekend, telling stories about being in the army in Afghanistan. I told him this story. What a small world!! Only 8 million people in this village called New York.
Speaking of strange things happening in New York. This is something that could have been in an episode of Sex and the City, easily.
On the downtown 4 train, I am stadning above one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. I try not to stare too obviously, but our eyes meet a few times, and finally, we smile, and he says Hi. I take my headphones off and we start chatting. He seems very nice, well dressed, and have I said gorgeous? I am going to Fulton St. At that stop, a seat opens up next to him. I decide to go with the flow and sit. He introduces himself, we chat for a few minutes, he asks me where I am going. I look up at the display and chose the last stop in Manhattan: Bowling Green - 2 stops from Fulton. I figure, if he's gonna ask for my number, it's got to happen in 2 stops. It does. Right before I get off, we exchange numbers. He promises to call that evening. I walk straight to the opposite platform, heart pumping, so excited, I am about jump out of my skin. He calls within the hour. Seems nice, we set a date for a couple of days later. I realize I don't know anything about him, but that makes it pretty exciting. Nothing to worry about, we meet at Union Sq, very public place, I am not stupid. The weather is nice, we walk around for a bit. It's a little strange that he tells me he wants to be absolutely honest and upfront about stuff with me. It reminds me of an ex-boyfriend breaking up with me and saying that he was never really attracted to me and then adding that he thought I would appreciate his honesty and upfrontness. Not always the case.
Anyway, back to the story. Even though I have a bad feeling the whole time, he is so cute and he keeps telling me how beautiful I am - which, by the way, makes me very uncomfortable. We finally sit down at a restaurant and it begins. The first shocking confession goes as follows: "I used to lead a gay lifestyle, but then, I realized that it wasn't right, and reevaluated things and God had shown me the right path." I think I asked him about 4 times to repeat that. I just couldn't believe it. He explains that he grew up in an environment in which being gay meant that he fit it. Makes little sense. I get the feeling he was brainwashed in some conservative church and now thinks it's a sin to be gay. He keeps swearing that he is actually attracted to women. OK. Whatever. This is not all though. Next up: "I was diagnosed with a mental disorder, bipolar disease, and ended up losing my job and living in a shelter for 2 years." OK, that's a little too much now. I mean people lose their way sometimes, I understand, and it's very admireable when someone manages to overcome adversity to become successful or overcome some sort of diability or disease. But the whole mental disease/shelter thing combined with being previously gay or perhaps still, and with brainwashing religisoty - did I mention he prayed before he ate?
At this point, I was thinking "How do I get out of here???" And he kept asking "What are you thinking about, julie?" Really?? What do you think I am thinking about? Running as fast as I could perhaps. Finally, we finish eating, awkward silence, we ask for the check, he wants to go see a movie. I am thinking of a nice way to get out of this, but there really isn't a nice way to tell him no, I don't want to go see a movie, and I don't want to talk to you again, and I am really sorry that you're life is difficult, but I have my own issues and things to deal with and I just can't deal with this much stuff. And besides, I was pretty freaked out. I lied and said I was taking the bus to avoid walking to the subway together, gave him a hug and walked a block before dearing to turn around and I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry, so I just stood there, frozen in place for a few minutes.
If you've seen Playing by Heart, a great movie from the 90's with Angelina Jolie and Ryan Phillippe, among others, you might remember Dennis Quaid's character, who is taking an improvisation class, which has assignments where he goes to bars/restaurants and comes up with outrageous stories to strangers. Maybe this guy from my date was taking a class like that, or he was rehearsing for a role in a movie. Or he was just himself. Who knows which is worse?
I also found myself hanging out with the fencing crowd once again this weekend. A bunch of people from the Fencers Club - past and present members - gathered for some drinks at a nearby bar. There were a couple of guys there I vaguely remembered from the old days at fencing camp in Hungary. They had quit fencing a long time ago, but stayed in touch with some of the Hungarians from camp. We were kids, teenagers, when we met, there was a language barrier, I was incredibly shy, and so we never really talked. It was really interesting to see them after so many years.
Reminded me of this"New York moment".
This was a couple years back, I was waiting for a performance of Shakespeare in the Park, in Central Park, waiting for a friend - one of the visitors from this weekend, actually - who, at the time, still lived in New York. I was just standing around the park, when a man came up to me and asked me to sign some sort of political petition (this was pre-Obama elections). I told him I wasn't a citizen and there was no point to me signing since I couldn't vote anyway. He then asked me where I was from, and I told him Hungary. He said "Oh, what a conincidence, I used to go to Hungary all the time to fencing camp." I was sure I heard something wrong. I asked him what he had said. He repeated that he used to go to fencing camp in Hungary, with his children. I said, that's really a coincidence, because I used to go to fencing camp too. He asked, "Was it in Szombathely?" Yes, it was. I asked him who his children were: Katie and James Cavan. Holy shit, of course, I know Katie, we used to fence a lot, she was at Columbia when I was in college, we fenced at national tournaments too, and I had known her since were 12 or so from camp. And James, her younger brother, whom I had never spoken to before, was at the bar this weekend, telling stories about being in the army in Afghanistan. I told him this story. What a small world!! Only 8 million people in this village called New York.
Speaking of strange things happening in New York. This is something that could have been in an episode of Sex and the City, easily.
On the downtown 4 train, I am stadning above one of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. I try not to stare too obviously, but our eyes meet a few times, and finally, we smile, and he says Hi. I take my headphones off and we start chatting. He seems very nice, well dressed, and have I said gorgeous? I am going to Fulton St. At that stop, a seat opens up next to him. I decide to go with the flow and sit. He introduces himself, we chat for a few minutes, he asks me where I am going. I look up at the display and chose the last stop in Manhattan: Bowling Green - 2 stops from Fulton. I figure, if he's gonna ask for my number, it's got to happen in 2 stops. It does. Right before I get off, we exchange numbers. He promises to call that evening. I walk straight to the opposite platform, heart pumping, so excited, I am about jump out of my skin. He calls within the hour. Seems nice, we set a date for a couple of days later. I realize I don't know anything about him, but that makes it pretty exciting. Nothing to worry about, we meet at Union Sq, very public place, I am not stupid. The weather is nice, we walk around for a bit. It's a little strange that he tells me he wants to be absolutely honest and upfront about stuff with me. It reminds me of an ex-boyfriend breaking up with me and saying that he was never really attracted to me and then adding that he thought I would appreciate his honesty and upfrontness. Not always the case.
Anyway, back to the story. Even though I have a bad feeling the whole time, he is so cute and he keeps telling me how beautiful I am - which, by the way, makes me very uncomfortable. We finally sit down at a restaurant and it begins. The first shocking confession goes as follows: "I used to lead a gay lifestyle, but then, I realized that it wasn't right, and reevaluated things and God had shown me the right path." I think I asked him about 4 times to repeat that. I just couldn't believe it. He explains that he grew up in an environment in which being gay meant that he fit it. Makes little sense. I get the feeling he was brainwashed in some conservative church and now thinks it's a sin to be gay. He keeps swearing that he is actually attracted to women. OK. Whatever. This is not all though. Next up: "I was diagnosed with a mental disorder, bipolar disease, and ended up losing my job and living in a shelter for 2 years." OK, that's a little too much now. I mean people lose their way sometimes, I understand, and it's very admireable when someone manages to overcome adversity to become successful or overcome some sort of diability or disease. But the whole mental disease/shelter thing combined with being previously gay or perhaps still, and with brainwashing religisoty - did I mention he prayed before he ate?
At this point, I was thinking "How do I get out of here???" And he kept asking "What are you thinking about, julie?" Really?? What do you think I am thinking about? Running as fast as I could perhaps. Finally, we finish eating, awkward silence, we ask for the check, he wants to go see a movie. I am thinking of a nice way to get out of this, but there really isn't a nice way to tell him no, I don't want to go see a movie, and I don't want to talk to you again, and I am really sorry that you're life is difficult, but I have my own issues and things to deal with and I just can't deal with this much stuff. And besides, I was pretty freaked out. I lied and said I was taking the bus to avoid walking to the subway together, gave him a hug and walked a block before dearing to turn around and I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry, so I just stood there, frozen in place for a few minutes.
If you've seen Playing by Heart, a great movie from the 90's with Angelina Jolie and Ryan Phillippe, among others, you might remember Dennis Quaid's character, who is taking an improvisation class, which has assignments where he goes to bars/restaurants and comes up with outrageous stories to strangers. Maybe this guy from my date was taking a class like that, or he was rehearsing for a role in a movie. Or he was just himself. Who knows which is worse?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Get to
Things that make me cry: people in wheelchairs completing a marathon; a grown man breaking down and sobbing on his wife's shoulder after finishing a marathon; a middle aged man wearing a clown nose and a finisher's medal, surrounded by his proud children; the words "I fell apart on the last mile"; and not getting to do what I have worked so hard for. Because it's not about having to do something, not about the pain and the suffering, the medals and congratulations, but it's about the goal and the challenge, the fact that I can chose to do this, that I get to do this, what many people don't ever get to do. It is most painful when you really want it but don't get to do it. Things that made me smile: people from all over the world coming together for one common cause, to accomplish this incredible task; the smiles on people's faces despite the pain they must be feeling; men running in kilts; men running in pink outfits; a man proposing to his girlfriend who had just completed a marathon.
Run like an animal!
Running is in our blood. But don't take our word for it. Just flip through a recent issue of the American Journal of Human Genetics and you’ll learn that genes like ACTN3 are linked to elite athletic performance. But in a day and age where running gets confused with jogging and medals are dished out merely for participating, we fear that these genes may go dormant, or worse yet, disappear completely. So please, do your part and make sure running doesn’t get lost in the genetic shuffle. Take another runner by the hand and do what comes naturally. That is, other than running. Breed like an animal. Run like an animal.
Nostalgia
Memories are strange creatures. I say creatures because they seem to have their own lives and free will. It seems that our brains will store only selective ones and those ones will be manipulated to be a certain way, so that things either seem much brighter or much darker than they really were, depending on our moods and emotions and many other things I guess, things we have no conscious control over.
I saw a college friend tonight, my first college friend, in fact, freshman year roommate. We haven't seen each other in more than 3 years, which makes me feel strange - I don't want to say old because that would not be accurate, it's just odd that 3 years can go by without seeing someone I was once so close with. Oh, how different we were back then! So naive and young and bright-eyed, going through so many changes, expecting so much! Just seeing her brought back so many memories, not just from college, from fencing, but memories in general; things I haven't thought about for some time. I guess once those "memory neurons" get triggered, there is no stopping, a bunch of connections get all fired up and all of a sudden, I am in a daze, thinking of the "old" times: first homecoming with beer games, then throwing up in the shower the next morning before packing hot-dogs and finding out what the difference between fencing and football really was. Crazy weekends away at fencing tournaments, sneaking around in hotel hallways and rooms, trying to steal a few minutes alone with that special someone - or at least that someone I thought was special. Running through the summer rain by Lake Michigan. Packing up a whole year of life in a few minutes to disappear before the trainers can take a sample of my hair. A long car-ride from New York to Chicago in a horrible snow-storm. Thanksgivings in Kansas, winters in Chicago and then more recent memories. Last year's Halloween in Boston. Frustrations of an injury and then pushing through to complete the ultimate goal: the marathon. More injuries this year and no marathon. Tomorrow, when 43000 people run past on 1st Ave, I will be standing in Central Park, near the finish line, making sure that people find their friends and families, that nobody collapses because they are dehydrated. It's been difficult seeing people walk around the city wearing their cool marathon shirts and overhearing conversations about which colored corral they are going to be starting in tomorrow. Maybe next year...
And then there was a memory, more vivid than any other one, just popping into my mind without any warning or forethought, caught me by surprise. I was back a year ago, in a room just barely lit, sitting on the edge of a big bed, talking about "Henry and June", about whether we are destined to spend our entire lives with one person, about whether one person can satisfy us in every way, discussing philosophical questions which had no right answers. I was there again, naive and excited, until I felt that hand on my shoulder, that slight pull, his lips touching mine, the rush, the adrenaline, the surprise. Memories blending together, an intoxicated night, sitting on his lap, maybe the same room, maybe a different life all together. Emotions deeply hidden being released, tears and laughs, but I can't remember why. I just remember a feeling, of incredible sadness and longing, even as he was holding me in his arms. Because I knew that it was the last time maybe, and today, after trying so hard to forget, I was there again, in that room. Or was I ever there, did it even really happen? Memories can be false, out brains can play nasty tricks on us, that's nostalgia Don't be fooled!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A castle on top of a hill
One of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life! The village of Sintra, a 30 minute train ride away from Lisbon, between the Atlantic and the city. It's a tiny village built at the foot of 2 hills: one with a very old castle on top it, the walls of which still stand, and another hill with a palace on top built in Portuguese romantic style. I was standing by the palace, looking out toward the castle and the ocean at the far end, with rolling green hills and many villages in between. The view was absolutely humbling, like a beautiful piece of music, an inspiring story or a Frida Kahlo painting, it made me cry.
Climbing on centuries-old stones and walls made me feel like a kid again. It was very satisfying to trek up to these hills on foot when loads of people were waiting in long lines for buses. Could not think of a better way to spend my last and only free day in Portugal, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite countries.
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