Pretty much the only "extracurricular" activity I do these days is running. Anybody who knew me in high school will likely believe this; anybody who knew me in college is probably rolling on the floor in laughter right now. In college, when my life was filled with the Crimson and classes and naps and extensive social plans, I never really had the time or energy to pick up and go for a run. But when I arrived in New Orleans, I remember sharing at Induction that one of my goals was to run a half-marathon this year. And I registered for that half marathon on Saturday.
Running--and the handy-dandy training plan I created on runnersworld.com--has been one of the few things keeping me sane over the last month and a half. It's the one solid 30, 45, or 60 minutes of the day where I am not feeling guilty about all the things I could be doing, or insecure about all the things I am doing but not succeeding at. It's the block of time that I can't be reached by phone or email or a child's tugging hand reminding me that once upon a time I promised them a trip to the prize box and by golly, Ms. L, you haven't given me my darn Mickey Mouse pencil. I come home feeling relaxed and like I've accomplished something--a feeling that I need on those really bad days where I often feel like I've just pushed my students backwards.
Today's run was a 5-miler, so I headed over to Audubon Park and ran the long loop, which takes me all the way down to the Mississippi River. It was about 6:50 by the time I got down there, and the sun was slipping down toward the horizon. It was a scene that reminded me of home, as my few runs during college took me up and down the banks of the Charles. And it reminded me that I do have control over some things in my life--like how far and how fast my legs and my lungs will carry me when I lace up my sneakers in the evenings. I can't control how far behind my students are, or how many of my calls home result in them getting physically beaten, or how my school is in a set of FEMA trailers past their expiration date that are broken into a couple of times a week. What I can control is what I prepare for them, how I build relationships with them, how hard I work to fix my own flaws so that I can be the kind of teacher they need. As I ran home today, clocking in under my goal time of an hour for the run, I thought back to how painful the first week of starting that training plan was, when I couldn't even make it around the short loop of Audubon Park without having to stop, wheeze, and try to breathe through a side stitch. I hope every day that a few months from now, I will be able to look back on these first few painful weeks and laugh at how out of shape I was.
Running--and the handy-dandy training plan I created on runnersworld.com--has been one of the few things keeping me sane over the last month and a half. It's the one solid 30, 45, or 60 minutes of the day where I am not feeling guilty about all the things I could be doing, or insecure about all the things I am doing but not succeeding at. It's the block of time that I can't be reached by phone or email or a child's tugging hand reminding me that once upon a time I promised them a trip to the prize box and by golly, Ms. L, you haven't given me my darn Mickey Mouse pencil. I come home feeling relaxed and like I've accomplished something--a feeling that I need on those really bad days where I often feel like I've just pushed my students backwards.
Today's run was a 5-miler, so I headed over to Audubon Park and ran the long loop, which takes me all the way down to the Mississippi River. It was about 6:50 by the time I got down there, and the sun was slipping down toward the horizon. It was a scene that reminded me of home, as my few runs during college took me up and down the banks of the Charles. And it reminded me that I do have control over some things in my life--like how far and how fast my legs and my lungs will carry me when I lace up my sneakers in the evenings. I can't control how far behind my students are, or how many of my calls home result in them getting physically beaten, or how my school is in a set of FEMA trailers past their expiration date that are broken into a couple of times a week. What I can control is what I prepare for them, how I build relationships with them, how hard I work to fix my own flaws so that I can be the kind of teacher they need. As I ran home today, clocking in under my goal time of an hour for the run, I thought back to how painful the first week of starting that training plan was, when I couldn't even make it around the short loop of Audubon Park without having to stop, wheeze, and try to breathe through a side stitch. I hope every day that a few months from now, I will be able to look back on these first few painful weeks and laugh at how out of shape I was.
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