For a period of two weeks, my life had no direction, no objective, and quite honestly, no reality.

In order for my satisfaction and successes to be manifest in my day, I must have a goal – an idea – or something, which requires effort to obtain. Perhaps the clearest manifestation of this necessity was my decision to cease a full time, government-based vocation, and opt for either a full time law schedule, or part time vocation with a legal entity. But other obstacles, none less important, by far more controllable, helped constitute my dissatisfaction.
Let me say foremost, I have never so vehemently and undeniably felt such shame as I did last weekend. I failed to look inward, and I became a slave to popular culture, through the siren of particular tonics. But there is also great illumination when one observes from the other side of the spectrum. I don’t see how anyone could fully understand their bodies, until it fails them. Let me be clear: What happened to my life and my state last weekend will not recur. And that is not subject to change.
Last night, I traveled to the very spot where one year ago, I experienced the epitome of my personal happiness to date. Though I no longer am a part of the brotherhood that is Cross Country, I still believe.
I ran. I tried my best at plyometrics. I twisted myself through a yoga class, and ran again despite what appears to be anterior tibialis tendonitis, and opposite compartment syndrome thrown in for good measure.
My fellows informed me that I have never looked so happy, so jovial, on the way up. It was as if I were a “…kid in a candy store.”


I have begun a new chapter. Law school is now in session. I’m leaving my present position in government, for a more legal oriented vocation. And I’m among the best people I’ve ever known.
So now I sit. Waiting for class to begin. A.Low with the Crocs. The running shorts covered with my North Faces shorts, which a close friend just wore earlier to run in, as he had forgotten his. A Brooks Brothers shirt, with mud, grass, and gravel still on me in various spots – All before a stack of federal statutory briefs. I have forgotten nothing, but I know something is missing.

Growing up has been articulated hundreds of thousands of times – By those far more eloquent than I. But there is an existential truth when one asserts that the more you change, the less you feel. That’s one of the chief reasons I do everything in my capacity to stay young. T o inhibit change. I detest outworn slogans and obsolete dogmas. I abhor pessimists and those who exist for a regimented reason. Maybe that why Norwich made lose over twenty-five pounds in as many weeks.

I’m an idealist. Notwithstanding, I stare at things as they area. Not what they might be. But in that small channel of hope against truth, are my ambitions and ideals. When people ask me how I reason doing certain things that some profess to be illogical, or question how I can work, and toil, and succeed despite the pain and failure I experience in the process, I always give them the same answer. There is life, deep in my suffering.