Lost and found

Onwards from AKQA on Vimeo.

I felt like the little yellow man in this video today. I was going and going and going, didn't feel like stopping, for the first time in a long time. And I learned something very important.

For weeks now I have been struggling with my running. I have been so focused on these shorter races - 4M and 10K - wanting to do better and better, getting under an 8 min/mile or finishing under 54 minutes, I stopped enjoying the experience. After the marathon, my focus in my running had changed completely: I wasn't doing any long runs, I started getting faster on the shorter distances, which also felt good in the cold weather. Rachel has gotten a lot faster than me in the meanwhile too, so we don't run races together anymore and sometimes keeping up with her on a training run can be a challenge for me too. While I had gotten somewhat faster - both at the races and on regular runs too I could tell - I wasn't having very much fun.

A couple of days ago, I wanted to go on a group run at the local running store, for a change of pace (turned out very literally, actually). They do this a few times a week and the last time I had gone - it was way before the marathon even - there were a guy and girl going out to lead two groups. Even though the girls were still faster than me at the time, I felt like being pushed a little was good, wanting to stay with the group gave me some motivation and I had a good run with them. They were also very nice. I hadn't made it back there due to weather and scheduling and all sorts of excuses, but finally this week I decided to go again.

The girl I knew from last time wasn't there, it was a guy I had seen before at the store, who looks like a very serious runner. He said that on most weekdays they can't get a group together but that he'd go out for a run with me. I told him I was slow but he said he didn't mind - saying he hadn't been running very much lately. Oh man! It was a mistake! But at the end, I am so glad I did this, it made me realize something really important.

So the two of us ran to the park and I could tell that he was slowing WAY down for me and I kept saying I was fine even though I wasn't and then he said he only had time for one lap around the reservoir and I thought, oh, I can do that! When he told me that his best marathon time was 2 hours 30-some minutes - I stopped listening after he said 30 and was too busy wow-ing - I felt even more intimidated and wanted more than anything to show him I wasn't so slow. We hadn't even finished the one loop when the water fountain came to my rescue - I was really about to throw up and could not keep up the conversation he was trying to have anymore - I said I needed some water and while we waited in line I tried to hide my tortured expression. In the end, I finished the loop with him but to get out of having to run back to the store, I said I wanted to do another loop. At that point, it didn't matter how much I slowed down, I was just done for the day! It was also about 90 F (~30C) and humid and I was having all sorts of issues: being incredibly thirsty was probably the main one, and then chafing and tightness everywhere in my legs... Ugh, it was just bad overall. I stopped in the middle of the second loop - this is also when I ran into 2 people I know, I must have looked horrible, how does this happen in a city of 8 million people??? - and walked home.

It actually was really nice to walk: it was late enough that there were no cars in the park and the sun was going down so the lights were just wonderful, the trees finally in full bloom, lots of colorful flowers, it's been a while since I stopped to look at the beauty of Central Park in the evening on a hot summer day finally cooling down. It's one of the most wonderful things about the city! It also made me think of Margitsziget and riding our bikes across it with Rachel last summer. Not sure why this happened but I became very nostalgic all of a sudden and started missing it so much!

Huh, today was a new day, has cooled down to normal spring weather, I had a busy day and just knew I had to get out there before the forecasted 4 days of rain started. I was anxious and had no expectations, but I knew I had to run slowly if I wanted to have any chance of having a good run. My goal was 3-4 miles, easy, with lots of stretching. Thankfully, I did yoga last night for the first time in a couple of weeks, which probably helped a lot, and I started feeling really great after about 2 miles, with 2 stops for stretching. I did a 4 mile loop on the dirt mostly and for the first time in weeks or maybe months even, I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP!!

Last weekend I ran 8 miles in the humid midday heat and it was horrible. Today I ran about 10 miles (16 km), very slowly at first but managing to get the pace up a little for the last couple of miles. It felt great! Every minute of it! And then it dawned on me: I am not a fast runner and I am not meant to be one, maybe. I don't know why I was trying so hard to reach these goals that I had set for myself. I have never been fast at anything: I was always a slow fencer and a slow swimmer and a slow biker. Why would I want to be a fast runner? After all, I run because it feels so good, and it feels the best when I run for a long time and I can only run for a long time if I pace myself correctly, which means I have to start very slowly. And that's fine, I don't care about the 50 year old men passing me and I don't care that my friends are much faster than me and we can't run races together. I just want to be myself. As this was going through my head, I leaned on a bench to stretch and my brain got flooded with some hormone - endorphins I guess - and I felt the high I feel only after really great runs and then it started raining.

And what a lesson for life in general too! How often we try to conform to others' standards and opinions and pretend to be some person that we think we should be or that we think others will like and accept more. I am at my best when I am completely myself, relaxed and that's when I have the most fun. A few weeks ago, someone I had only known for a few hours at the time told me what an open person he thought I was. I always think I might come across as a little crazy and intense to people but when he said that to me, I was really touched and I think that the people who can't handle it can go to hell. I don't want to be someone I am not to fit in more or to make people like me more. The people who matter will accept me the way I am: open and slow.

Fluorescent beagle

This is what we spend the millions and millions of dollars for research on: a red fluorescent transgenic (all of his cells have red fluorescent protein) beagle that glows under UV light, and even without the UV, the nails and thin skin look red. Cuteee!!

Nostalgia

I just finished a book by Michael Chabon: it wasn't my favorite, the story didn't touch me very much and I couldn't identify with the characters, but there is something amazing about his writing. As soon as I start reading, it flows so freely and effortlessly that I can't put it down. I read at least half of the book yesterday afternoon, lounging in Central Park and on my bed with the windows open and the scents of spring tickling my nose (or was it the smells of the hot city, I can't remember?)

The story is about the summer after college, being young and careless and nostalgic for those times. I have been nostalgic lately too, very much. Not for college, but for a dreamy fantasy I have of a place I left a long time ago. Homesick for a place I don't really remember but the feeling of which creates a memory most likely false: too perfect to be real. And yet I can't shake it off, at least not for now.

"Walking the streets to Phlox's house, as so many times before - past that mailbox, past that airy, rampant bed of cosmos, past that old man, oh yes, with the neck brace and the Pomeranian - making the old approach to her apartment through the eternal oily paddle and the stink of that ginkgo tree, I was filled with a frail and sad exhilaration, which I really ought to have recognized for what it was and, perhaps, to have stopped right there - for it was nostalgia, and what inspires nostalgia has been dead a long time."

"No doubt all of this is not true remembrance but the ruinous work of nostalgia, which obliterates the past, and no doubt, as usual, I have exaggerated everything."

~Michael Chabon: The Mysteries of Pittsburgh

Lonely city

It's been a while since I have felt like writing much. My Mom mentioned it the other day and was worried that I didn't have more to write about. It's the opposite, actually. For the past week or so I have been thinking a lot about a lot of things and talking to a lot of people. When I talk about the things that are on my mind a lot, I feel less of a need to write them down; writing is a way to pour things out that have no other outlet sometimes. The reason I was writing so often for a long time I think was partly that I wasn't talking to people so much. I was busy, working a lot, trying to keep up the running, fencing, yoga; it always took lots of planning to get together with friends who are also busy. Or at least that's what I always told myself.

Then, someone walked into my life unexpectedly and stirred things up a bit. Sometimes I wonder if things happen for a reason, if we meet certain people for a reason. Once I read in a book that we should always look for some kind of message when meeting a person, that people who come into our lives always do so for a reason; we just don't listen most of the time and miss the message. It always sounded a bit too new-agey and spiritual for me, but I actually do like the idea a lot. If we pay closer attention, we can always find some way in which people in our lives influence us in a certain way.



We were spending a lot of time together and I was getting a perspective from a point of view of a foreigner visiting New York for the first time. One evening, we were on the Roosevelt Island tram returning to Manhattan. The tram passes by a few high-rises right before its station on 2nd Ave and as people in this city don't use curtains, the passengers have a perfect view of many of the apartments in those buildings. He found it shocking that in so many of the apartments, there were people sitting on couches, mostly watching TV all by themselves. He said that after having spent 5 days here, he had the feeling that this city was really lonely. He asked me why people here didn't get together after work, why everyone seemed to just work and work and run and run and then go home. I didn't think much of this at the time; I just said that this was a different culture, people work so much they are always tired, maybe sick of being around so many people all the time, as in NYC it's sometimes hard to find any time and/or space to be alone. But the image of all the people on their couches stayed with me for days.

The following week, I went to my usual weekly fencing practice, after which I always stop by Chipotle on the way to the subway to grab a burrito. Unless I am absolutely starved, I get it to go and eat it when I get home: sitting on my couch, by myself, often turning the TV on to some late evening show I don't know or care about - just for the background noise. I thought about this as I was ready to leave the fencing club; then on my way out I asked one of the coaches with whom I am more friendly, if he wanted to get a burrito with me. He looked a little surprised at first, but then we went together and ended up having a great time, catching up over a beer and a burrito. Even though I see this coach almost every week, we never really have the chance to talk since he's so busy with the kids and I am always rushing in and out. I realized that I hadn't really talked to him in almost a year! He told me he was really glad we did this, and that when I first asked him to join me, his initial reaction was to say no because he was looking forward to his evening alone at home, watching a movie and eating some simple dinner.

Are we so wound up in our daily lives that we neglect to talk to a person we know for almost a year? Even if it's not a close friend or someone we care about a lot, it just seems so wrong! Do we really work so much that a conversation in the evening can sometimes seem like so dreadful that people just want to go home and be alone? Or is this what we tell ourselves so we don't feel so alone all the time? Is it really different in other places? I have lived in the US for way too long to be able to judge but people from other places seem to think so.

I have been trying to encourage friends to do this sort of spontaneous thing more often: go for a quick drink or meal to wind down after a long day at work; go out to celebrate special occasions; have conversations and involve more people. As a result, I have had a crazy week, hanging out with different people every evening, going to more places in the city, talking to more people. I love it but I am tired. It's Monday morning and I don't feel very rested. Now I need to find a balance. It does seem crazy that we live so close to so many people in the city and yet we are so disconnected from them. On the other hand, while people are all different, I have to realize that I can't do this all the time, that I need some quiet time alone to be able to go for a run or a long walk when I don't have to rush anywhere, to meet anyone. My thinking that I always want to be with people masks some insecurities in me that I should first try to figure out so that I can find balance.

Spring, please!

Once again, spring has been skipped in New York. Up until a couple of days ago, it was cold, rainy and windy, and now it's practically summer. I was smart enough to go for a longer run today in the middle of the day and it was not fun. Now I have two very red shoulders to remind me that I should put sunscreen on and not to run at noon in the summer heat.

The city has gone crazy, so crowded in the park today, we had to slalom around all the tourists walking on the running paths. Then in the evening, I saw saddened to see that my favorite Bohemian beer garden in Astoria has become so popular that even at 7 on a Saturday it's impossible to get a table. Way too many people in this city!

Realism or impressionism?

The central question in this new play, "Impressionism", was whether life is more more like realism or impressionism. The conclusion: impressionism since you have to take a few steps back in order to see things clearly. A water lily might seem like a spot on a canvas if you stand too close to the painting, but when you look at it from farther away, all of a sudden, the whole ocean of lilies becomes clear and beautiful. Similarly, in life, if we stand too close, if we look at all the details, we might miss the big picture and might forget to appreciate the things that make it so beautiful. If we become too wound up in the little details and stresses that we face day in and day out, we might just miss the whole ride and realize too late that our lives are speeding by while we are too busy to step back and look from a different point of view.

I really liked the play although I don't think it got good reviews - the theater was only about half full even though the cast was world famous. It made me laugh and brought tears to my eyes. I still love Jeremy Irons, especially his accent and deep voice.

Kócos kis romantika

My apologies to those non-Hungarian speakers - although I think you should still listen to it anyway. I have been really into this song:



...kócos kis romantika, tejfogával a szívembe mar... láss csodát, láss ezer csodát!

Goodbye's

I hate saying goodbye. Airports, train stations, bus stops, the corner of Bowery and Delancey... sometimes I think my life can be traced by a series of goodbye's and the tears that were left behind on the pavement. Enough! I want to say hello. I want to arrive somewhere and maybe consider staying. I want somewhere, someone, to feel like home so I don't want to leave again. I don't want to say any more goodbye's!

Today is a gift

I became rather affectionate with a pole at Astor Place after a couple of bottles of wine on Monday night :)



Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift.

This morning

Get home in the middle of the cold dark night, wake up to a big warm hug, sip my morning coffee very slowly, look out and see the sun, open my window and hear the noises of the city right below yet so far away from me. I could get used to it. But not today. I make peace with it and savor the moment before our worlds become separated by an ocean so big it seems almost impossible to cross.

Outisde the box

We try so hard to fit people and things and concepts into boxes. How many times do we all say things like "men are such and such", "women are this way or another", "scientists are so and so"? Most likely many many times. Our brains need some sort of system in order to sort through all the information we get bombarded with every single day, so it makes sense that we need categories - or boxes - that things fit into. And then, all of a sudden, you come across a thing or a person or a phenomenon that just doesn't fit into any of your mental boxes. It can be a little scary.

It just happened to me the other day that I met someone for the first time and not even consciously, assumed so many things about him that I really had no idea about, based mostly on the fact that he was a man. When things turned out differently from what I expected, I got very confused and guarded, and it took some evaluating to realize that I was so wrong to try to shove him into one of my little boxes. Even though it's scary to realize when one makes mistakes of this sort, it's nice to see that people can be so different and it teaches one to try to avoid judging people instead of getting to know them better.

Not my loss

We met through a mutual friend and then saw each other at a New Year's Eve party. I sort of had a crush on him, but not enough to do much about it at the time. At the party though, he asked me out. A few days later, we went out for coffee, had a good time, things seemed to be going well. I barely knew him, but he was cute, athletic and intelligent and I didn't even pay enough attention to the rest. I let my guard down too fast. I should have seen it from the beginning: after a couple of promising dates, he disappeared. The last thing he said to me was that he would call to make plans. Then, next time we ran into each other on the street, it was like we never even met. He passed me without saying hi. For weeks, I was upset about it.

A few months later, we met again through our friend. I considered not going to the event, but I thought, how stupid, because of this guy, I am not gonna stop hanging out with her and turn down her invitation. It was a small group, I ended up sitting next to him for a couple of hours. Every time I looked over at him or he opened his mouth to speak, I thought "what the hell did I like in this guy?". He's sort of rude, not particularly funny, has a funny comb-over (I have no problems with balding men, really, but comb-overs are not cool!), overall, not a very kind person I think.

It dawned on me suddenly: I never really liked him. I was just flattered when he asked me out, I liked that he was so athletic and had that sort of over-confident manly thing going for him that can be missed for attractiveness sometimes and masks insecurities and weaknesses. But really, what kind of a man is he? Not a real one, I think. Or at least not one I would ever want to fall in love with. We took a cab back to the Upper East Side, got out near his place. Not for a moment did I consider walking with him; I said "Goodnight" and took the longer way home. I smiled, felt very secure and confident knowing that it wasn't my loss at all.

Scotland run

Awful awful run this morning!! The Scotland run this year remained true to its name: it was pouring the entire time we were outside. Already by the time I reached the park, I was soaked. The rain jacket I had on didn't help much. It was also cold: it's been an odd spring so far, lots of rain and not many warm days. There was water everywhere! In my shoes, on my pants, hands felt like icicles for much of the run, people in front of me were kicking water up into my face: overall, just not a good experience. In spite of all this, I did pretty well, at 8:36 minutes/mile, I did my best 10K so far. Maybe I just really wanted to get out of the rain!

What impresses me though, about runners, is that even in this horrible weather, there were thousands of people out there: not only the runners themselves, but all the volunteers - who are probably also runners - and even people cheering. Maybe a bunch of crazy people running in the rain are even more amusing to watch than a bunch of crazy people running in nice weather. It reminds me of this race last winter: there was a snow storm the night before and the NY Road Runners had announced that they wouldn't be timing the race because it was too dangerous. Still, thousands of people showed up at the snow-covered park in sub 0 temperatures - including myself and a few friends - to run the 4 mile race. Kristin Armstrong's latest blog entry was about a really tough half marathon she had done. She said she had been thinking about quitting the whole time she was in the race, but she pushed through. Her reason: she doesn't run because it's easy or even fun all the time; she runs because it's so real. I thought about that a lot yesterday: it can't get any more real than running along with thousands of fanatics when the forces of nature are out to get you!

The hot shower when I got home felt as good as those do in the dead of winter, when you get home from playing in the snow. I didn't want to get out! A bunch of us made brunch plans for right after the race though, so I had to hurry. This has to be the best deal in town: Mexican place, brunch - yummy breakfast burritos - with coffee and unlimited Mimosas for $10.95!! Wow, it's dangerous actually! They just kept refilling our glasses, didn't even have to ask. It made up for all the water in the morning! And by the afternoon, the sun even came out, sort of.

Tiger & pig

Just for fun.

Focus!

It's been a crazy week in lab, it actually just continued from last week: I am starting to think about putting together all my data for this "paper" that will hopefully be submitted sometime this year (is what my adviser said in our meeting this week, but I'd really like it to happen before the end of the summer actually). Not only do I have to fill in many holes in the results - meaning more experiments, meaning more time spent with benchwork and much less time to think and write and all that other stuff that should go into writing an article - but the task of writing a scientific paper that will be submitted to a real - although not very good - journal is rather daunting. I don't feel like the qualifying exam I have written 2 years ago prepared me at all for this task. And it's easy for my adviser to say "start writing this paper" and when I express my anxiety for him to brush it off by saying that he's sure I'll be a good writer. Anyhow, I think once I get started and get some feedback, it'll be easier and less stressful.

I haven't gotten to run very much this week although I had great plans for it. I don't seem to be very productive in lab and be able to run according to my training plan at the same time. There just aren't enough hours in the day to do it all. At least, last night I made it to fencing: hitting people with my foil always releases stress, although the bruises I have today may not have been worth it at the end. I have no expectations for my 10K race tomorrow morning, although I wanted to do really well in it, but with not much training and being sore from fencing, I doubt it'll be a fun run. It's also supposed to rain :(

I think I can never be one of those hard core runner types. I don't want to fall into the same routine I had with fencing for so many years: only doing that one thing day in and day out. I want to go to my weekly yoga class, I want to go swimming every once in a while, I want to get my bike out soon and start riding, and I want to keep up my once a week fencing too. How the hell will running fit into this?

Oh multitasking!! I wish I could run/ride/swim/fence all at the same time! I mean I am pretty good at this: I can run 2-3 experiments, still write emails, check Facebook, write a blog entry, work on figures during incubation breaks, meet a friend for lunch, then take a coffee break in the afternoon and read a paper or a book and some days I even manage to get in a quick run or visit to the gym during the day. Can I really concentrate on ever one of these tasks though? I think not. They say that men, in general, have a better ability to separate different tasks and thoughts from each other in their minds, while in women's minds, everything is all tangled up, interconnected and well, let's face it, messy! Something about using grey versus white matter more...



And: "Men tend to recall information in a very “matter-of-fact” and clinical way, whereas women will recall the same memory in a more detailed and emotionally-rich manner. The reason? Men and women store images on opposite sides of the brain." Ha! This explains everything!



While I am isolating RNA from my cells, I am thinking "will I have time to finish all my other experiments today?" and "shit, I am already late for my lunch date!" or some great idea comes in my head that I want to write down right away and then remember that I forgot to reply to a really important email regarding getting payed for refereeing. When I am already preoccupied b something, then it's almost hopeless to concentrate.

So, in an attempt to be more productive not only in the lab, but in all aspects of life, I am working on being more focused and completely present in everything I do. When I am doing an experiment, I will try to just focus on that and put aside other experiments for the moment as well as checking emails and blogging. (Right now it's ok, I am having my afternoon coffee which is part of being productive :) When I go for a run, I will try not to worry about what I have to do afterwords and whether or not I will have time to finish the distance I had set out for myself. When I sit down to read a book, I will turn the TV and the computer off and immerse myself in the book. When I spend time with friends, I will not check my phone and will not write texts and will try to be completely present to spend time with them.

Ok, enough of making resolutions, now I will go back to my experiment and will not check emails until it's DONE!

After hours

Yes yes I know, I am the biggest nerd ever! It just occurred to me while pipetting yet another PCR plate that there were so many colorful tubes on my rack and that I could totally spell some word out with them. I got so excited by the idea, I finished preparing the plate in record time - without mistakes as far as I know - and then got to work on this. My only excuse: it's past 8pm.

Chicago 2016

The IOC (International Olympic Committee) inspection team visited Chicago today as a part of the process deciding the location for the 2016 Olympics. For the visit, the city gathered some leading athletes and did demonstrations with local kids to show how important athletic development was in Chicago. My coach from college was the fencing rep and he is featured in this video giving a lesson to a kid (he's the one in all black), pretty cool! I hope they win too!

Pigtails

My hair isn't quite long enough yet for really good pigtails, but I felt like trying anyway this morning. New York has once again returned to being the abusive boyfriend (thanks Rach for this image, I just love it, can't stop using it!) and the air was so humid my hair looked pretty funny this morning before I decided to braid it. It made me feel a little nostalgic actually, I used to wear ponytails like these for fencing for a more comfortable fit of the mask, and then I got used to them so much I wore them all the time. But not for some 4 years now... it was time for their return!

Beautiful Day

What a beautiful day it was! As Rachel said, "New York today is like an abusive boyfriend bringing flowers" except maybe that he adds that you shouldn't expect flowers anytime soon again (forecasting rain for the next 3 days) or when you get really excited about them, he says something nasty (the occasional wind gusts that almost blew me away were pretty painful).

It was a little chilly at 7:30 when we set off for the 4 mile race today in Central Park. There were about 8000 people, pretty impressive! This was my first race since the marathon and also the first of the year in NYC. I thought I had been running somewhat faster in the month or so I have been semi-regularly training again, but I never timed myself very closely, so this was the test. In fact, it seems like I have gotten a little faster: I ran an average of 8:11 min/mile pace today, which is my best so far for any race. Now, this was only 4 miles, so we'll see how next weekend's 10K Scotland Run goes. Eventually, I'd like to get under 8 minute miles at least for these shorter distances: it seems like a pretty reasonable goal for this year.

I am pretty sure now that I hate morning running. I am just not really awake at 8 yet (should get up at least 2 hours earlier to get my body and mind ready for a race) and the first 2 miles or so were pretty bad considering how cold and tight I felt, and then the race was practically over! Too bad all the races are in the morning...

To actually enjoy some of the sunshine, without the sweaty crowd around me, I ate my lunch at the little park around the corner. There are always tons of kids running around at the playground, parents with babies lounging on the benches, nannies trying to quiet the little ones... next to me, a young couple with two small boys, between 3 and 6 probably. Very typical Upper East Side family: expensive stroller, kids dressed in Tommy Hilfiger outfits with little patterned sweater-vests, cute, but a little scary to me. During the time I ate my slice of pizza - it was a pretty big slice, but still, it couldn't have taken more than 10 minutes to eat - the mother used about a half a pack of those antibacterial wipes to clean the kids' faces and hands, after they touched anything! I looked on alarmed. Is this really necessary? Let those poor kids build a normal immune system, for god's sake!

I have this theory: ever since I started working with bacterial products in the lab, I haven't been sick at all. I use things that are found in bacteria - like a molecule that's part of their cell walls, or synthetic compounds that mimic bacteria - to activate cells in dishes, to stimulate what an immune response to bacteria would be like in our bodies. I have to admit that I am not the most careful when handling these things: in a rush often, I forget to put gloves on, touch the tubes, and besides, our whole lab must be covered with these molecules considering that everyone uses them. In any case, there is some real scientific evidence, actually, from a faculty member here at Sloan Kettering, that being exposed to small amounts of bacterial products (in this case, to LPS in the drinking water of mice, which is a bacterial membrane component) actually strengthens the immune response to a subsequent infection by a potentially dangerous pathogen. So I firmly believe that eating a bit of dirt - or bacterial cell walls, for that matter - can hurt nobody and overanxious and overprotective Upper East Side mothers should all study some immunology.

On a more somber note, I saw such a heartbreaking and yet heartwarming thing yesterday! Right around Sloan Kettering, I saw a little boy of about 5 walking with his Dad holding hands, the boy losing his hair, huge, fresh scar across his head, surgical mask covering his face. Yet, he was skipping about, laughing, excitedly talking, his Dad lifting him up in the air, they looked truly happy in that moment I passed them on the street. We should all appreciate the little things more than we do, for some people, being able to walk down the street with their children is such a rare moment of happiness, and yet we so often take those little things for granted.

Color

I have been rightly accused of a few rather dark posts recently. I apologize. I do need to lighten up a bit. For that, I am wearing some more colors than usual: the stockings are my favorite today - pink butterflies!

I also got a new pair of running shoes, ah they are so soft, just tried them out and had a very good 10K run in them! They are the same kind of Asics I had before, except in hot pink - not entirely by choice: Asics is coming out with a new model so no stores had this old one in my size anymore and I had to order online and they only had this particular color - I like that they are not the usual blue and they have some floral pattern on them too!



Last, but not least, during lunch, I went home to put something together for our lab happy hour this afternoon. The result (on the cutest cutting board I got as a X-mas present from Kelsey and now always use to chop things on:):

The hard choice

The hardest choices in life we have to make are those that we know will benefit us at the end of the day and yet we don't want to make for one reason or another. Letting go of something lovely yet destructive, facing reality can tear the heart out. I read somewhere that loving starts with having respect. Out of respect for myself, for the ones I care about, and those on the other side of the equation, I have to accept that I have made the right choice, and now the letting go and the healing can begin. This never gets easier and it takes practice. I can now see how much I have learned and grown through letting go. Every ending brings about a new beginning. I feel sad but light, like a weight has been lifted off of me, and in this new lightness I feel strong.

To let go

From my yoga teacher:

"To let go doesn't mean to stop caring; it means I can't do it for someone else. To let go is not to cut myself off; it's the realization that I can't control another. To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences. To let go is to admit powerlessness which means the outcome is not in my hands. To let go is not to try to change or blame another; I can only change myself. To let go is not to care for, but to care about. To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive. To let go is not to judge, but it is to allow another to be a human being."

"To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own outcomes. To let go is not to be protective; it is to permit another to face reality. To let go is not to deny but to accept. To let go is not to nag, scold or argue, but to search out my own shortcomings and to work to correct them. To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes and to cherish the moment. To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone; it is to try to become what I dream I can be. To let go is not to regret the past, but rather to live now and grow for the future. And finally, to let go is to fear less and love more."

I think everyone who reads these lines will find something of value, something to relate to in their own lives. For me, the last few sentences, in particular, have a lot of meaning. Taking each day as it comes, welcoming the events of each of those days without always wanting to have control over them; to become what I dream I can be without conforming to anyone else's ideals. There is no design for life (quote from a Travis song, almost) and that's so difficult to realize, it has taken me all this time to really understand the meaning of that line in that song. There is no one good way to live, no recipe for happiness, but rather, for everyone to find his or her own way to be.

To not regret the past, to forgive ourselves for our mistakes and try to somehow become better for the next challenge. To live in the present, without dwelling on the past, but at the same time, growing for the future: this is also something I didn't understand before. How can I live in the present with the memories of the past and the ability to imagine the future? Memories and the images of the future are a way to escape from the present, and I don't think it's possible - at least not for me - to not be that way, but I do think we should strive to be in the now with the intention of growing for the future and not with the intention to either forget about the past and the future nor to ignore them. They are both a part of our lives like the present moment is. After all, the present moment is already the past as soon as it happens and the future is already the now.

And last but not least, love and be loved, even when it's scary, even when it means that you open your heart up and it will almost certainly get broken; I think that even then, it's worth it.