I sit here on my love seat that I’ve moved onto my balcony, sipping a virgin caesar and listening to Foo Fighter’s “Razor” on repeat. (Don’t read anything into the song) Staring at the bristling leaves and feeling the cool breeze on this perfect close to a summers day. My feet are right where they should be, resting on the ledge of the balcony, this coupled with my aged and perfected slouch I sit here content. Completely satisfied with how things are at this moment. I am happy. Occasionally these times do arrive. As much as others may not know it, I do in fact enjoy life.

This week I have quite possibly been thinking hourly about quiting. I know myself well enough to know that I am not typically a hasty man and so I won’t be quiting any time soon. I don’t enjoy my job, I don’t enjoy what I do and I definitely don’t enjoy someone telling me that I don’t know how to do my job. This all seems to be occurring more frequently. Which in itself makes work less appealing these days.

All of this aside, I don’t have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I can recall back when I first did tires that on my way to work I would pause at this stop sign everyday. Every single day I would stop and carefully look left then carefully look right. To my left was the number one hi-way and to my right was the shop. I would have to conscientiously make the decision to turn right. I don’t have that problem at the moment.

Being able to talk to someone, even if just through text, helps. I am grateful for that. I appreciate the e-mails and the encouraging words. There is no guilt or manipulation, just an appropriate response. I am too independent for my own good.

I don’t know what “God” has in store for me.  I’ve stopped looking for reassurance after ever little detail. As much as I am sure we would all appreciate clarity I just don’t know if it is in the cards.

As usual, I am tired.

Kraig

P.S. No apology necessary.

There’s a good amount of things in life that we do, not because we want to, not because we should, but because we have to.

I don’t like my job. At all. I enjoy some of the people, I enjoy being on the road, I enjoy going home at the end of the day, I enjoy standing around after closing time and talking about nothing, I enjoy my responsibility, I enjoy free coffee and I enjoy grateful customers. These are the things I enjoy.

There isn’t enough of them to get me through the day.

Can I buy a vowel?

My whole life has been about what’s next. Looking forward into the future with disbelief. Disbelief in myself. I’ve always been complacent with where I am now and always wanting to force change. Where does it come from, who knows? My therapist, maybe. We moved around a few times when I was a kid and when grade school was over I went to a different high school than the rest of my peers. In the first 2 years that I was away from home I lived in at least 8 different places. Jobs are sporadic, while friends seem to be revolving.

Expectations have been one of my biggest motivators. Not in a good way either. I tend to get to the point in a job where people begin to truly rely on me and want to offer me an overwhelming amount of responsibility. I say overwhelming because of how quickly they offer it, I generally don’t have much experience by the time they want me in charge of something. In the end I’ve taken these positions because that is what you do. Someone offers you a promotion, you tell your friends and family and then they tell you to take it. After thinking about it you take it. That is how things work.

Shortly after that, though, I always runaway. I’ve quit jobs, moved to another town or I’ve even just not shown up. This is becoming all too familiar of a process. The fact of the matter is, when I do take the promotion I end up hating it. The typical reason is because there is a good amount of resentment but there still are plenty of other ones.

I want to work toward something. There is not one ounce of interest in me in working my way up through a previously defined company. I want to run my own company. My own. From scratch. I know, I know, if I was to take a promotion and stick with it I would have a lot of good experience. But I would hate myself and everyone that works with me. It happens. I’ve made my list and I’ve begun to work at it. As trivial as they might seem, these are important to me.

With this list in mind and knowing that I enjoy learning, I’ve decided to attempt to work toward number five. This is something I’ve always wanted to do but have never been able to find the time to learn. Well, I’m going to take the time now. Hopefully it won’t take too long but even if it does I know that I will be enjoying it more than the alternative.

I’m sick of inevitably disappointing everyone. So I will just do it first and get it out of the way. I rejected the promotion offer and from now on I hope that I will be able to live for myself and do what I truly want to do. Not what everyone else convinces me to do.

I’m walking to my service truck and happen to end up walking the last 15 feet beside someone I’ve never met before.

“Hey” He says.

“Hey” I respond, and then nothing for the next few steps.

“I knew I was meant to be rich”, he proclaims.

After a few more steps I’m at my truck and he keeps walking. Now this in itself is strange enough but he just got out of a shiny new Cadillac and is wearing quite “nice” clothes and has a fairly recent haircut. His whole demeanor is of one who is relatively well off. Which begs the question.

Was he saying that he wants to be rich or was he bragging that he was rich?

Either way, this isn’t something you casually announce to a complete stranger.

I don’t think I’ve been able to truly relax ever since 2004.

That is all starting to change. I’ve been constantly looking forward and trying to plot out how I should accomplish all that I want to do. But never knew exactly what I wanted.

March 24th, 2009 I wrote an entry called Top 10. This entry is a list of the things I want to do before I die. It has been something for me to work towards, something to look forward to. This list took me a long time to fine tune and perfect it down to what I truly want. A little more than a year after I wrote this list, May 30th, 2010, I accomplished one of the objectives on the list. I ran a marathon. And the feeling that I got, the gratification of completing it. I’m hooked.

There are other variables that have added to it, but I’ve started to live now. To stop living in the future and just enjoy where I am.

I’m happier.

For now.

There are times when everything is thrown in my face. Dangling so close that I can’t see anything else.

Singledome.

Everyone is married or getting married. I don’t even have a girlfriend. Chances are that it’ll be a while until I do. I should be used to this… and I am. I’m just ready for a change.

Finally I’m ready for a change.

This is a weekend full of weddings. I had to take Friday off so that I could go to a wedding, today I spent the day setting up for a wedding and tomorrow I have another wedding to go to. I don’t want to write about weddings.

On Thursday at the end of the day at work, I was called into the store manager’s office by the assistant manager as the store manager went home. Weird, I know. I was offered an odd promotion. Basically it would give me a large amount of responsibility in exchange for less pay. If that was all that mattered then there wouldn’t be a problem. There are a lot of factors and variables to consider.

If I take the position:

Pros

• More responsibility
• Work indoors during winter
• First step of advancing in company
• Increase comfort level of being in leadership
• Salary – Guaranteed wage – Financial security
• Won’t have to do as much physical labour
• Looks good on a resume
• My boss wants to help me advance

Cons

• Plenty of stress
• Stuck in one place all day
• Have to deal more directly with customers
• Forced out of comfort level
• Probable large decrease in paycheck
• Loose commission
• Those under me might not take me seriously
• I fear that I might loose focus on what I really want to do
• Might do a horrible job

If I decline the position:

Pros

• Will receive a promised raise
• Continued relationship with fleets
• Keep working with the service drivers
• On-Call pay and Bonus pay
• Just starting to enjoy it again
• Gain more experience

Cons

• Winter is coming
• Won’t have guaranteed hours
• Company won’t value me as much
• Still have two undesirable fleets
• My body can’t take much more
• Companies number two choice really wants to go on truck and I’d be standing in his way
• My boss would be disappointed
• Fall in a rut

I’m stuck.

I’m torn.

I’ve got 32 1/2 hours to decide.

I’m tired of not moving forward.

For once I’m ready to move on. Leave the past where it is and start again. The only problem is I have no where to start. No true prospects.

Ready to stop being a wheel.

I finished!

I have no clue what time I pulled off but I know it was sub-4:30:00. This is awesome. My legs feel like they should still be moving but I walk to a guy holding a lot of metals. Pause briefly and dip my head as he puts one around my neck. “Thank you”. I move on to a table full of cups with some kind of recovery drink. They are smaller than the ones we’ve been given throughout the race but anything will do at this point.

My face is covered in salt. Everything hurts. I continue on slowly and can hear people saying my name. It doesn’t matter. I turn onto the sidewalk as my parents come over. My mom has a big smile and wants to hug or something but I can’t stop moving. I tell them so.

As I start to walk down toward the port-o-poties I hear my name again. It’s Jon and he has my hoodie. I hadn’t realized that I was cold until I saw it. Man was I cold. After puting on the hoodie he sticks out a small jug of chocolate milk. It looks as good as salvation at this point to me. I open it as quickly as possible and begin to sip. Gotta keep walking. I can’t stop moving. Continuing down a wheelchair ramp because stairs seem rather daunting at this point, I find my way to the booths and notice that there is a Team Diabetes one. Not sure if I’m supposed to check in with them or not but I finally collapse near their tent anyways.

My feet are killing me. I get my shoes off and am able to relax. My clothes are soaking up all the water from the grass and I continue to get colder. I don’t care. After a while of just laying there I realize how much I need to change my clothes and make my way to the port-o-poties. Jon brought me a change of clothes. It hurts to walk. It hurts to move. Everything hurts.

After changing, my parents let us head back to Jon’s for rest. We stop on the way and pick up some fruit. I eat a banana on the way home. Once there I eat two apples, another banana and several ribs. I love meat at this point. Upon checking the Calgary Marathon website I find myself on it. My chip time was 4:22:53, still can’t believe I pulled that off. Not too long after I head to supper with my parents. I get the largest, juiciest, most bacon ridden burger that I can find. It is so good.

I continue to eat everything I can find for the next 24 hours.

Then I head back home for work the next day.

What a weekend.

Finally, after 8 months of training it was here. The whole line began to move. Just as if the doors to a concert hall had opened up. We began to walk toward the starting line. The clock began to count but it wouldn’t really matter until we walked through the starting chute. Chips on our shoes would record our individual start times. As we got closer and closer to the chute we began to jog. All I could think was, “Go out slow! Go out slow!”. Countless times I’ve read articles, blogs and forums that tell first time marathoners that the number one mistake that we will make is going out too fast. By the time we hit the half way mark we will either be bagged or full of energy and at that moment we will know how we started out.

"Go out slow!"

Shortly after passing through the chute we take our first turn and I can see the 4:00:00 pace bunny not too far infront of me. He is still holding the sign. I decide that I will keep him in sight and possibly try to finish with him.

500 m

I see my parents standing on the side of the road. We go across the first bridge. Everyone is still packed together so much that it’s difficult to not bump into people. Eyes on the prize, Mr. 4:00:00 Pace Bunny. This feels awesome. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.

1.5 km

The pace bunny yells, “Walking!” and pulls off to the side and begins to walk. Several people join him. What just happened? I kept running, guess I won’t be sticking with him after all.

3 km

First water station. “Skip the first few water stations. They will be so busy that they will just slow you down.”, I recall reading.

3.5 km

“Hey Team D”, I unexpectedly heard.

“Hey”, I replied to the woman that was now running beside me. She was also wearing a Team Diabetes t-shirt.

“What you running?”

“The full. You?”

“Same.” We continued in silence for a couple of steps.

I decided to ask, “What time are you hoping for?”

“Anywhere from 4:00:00 to 4:30:00.”

“Yea, me too.” This was good to hear.

We ran in silence briefly before she took off ahead of me. I kept my pace and reassured myself, “Keep it slow.”

7.5 km

I finally decide to take off a layer and end up doing so as I pass the Team D Lady. She catches up and says, “I’m surprised you didn’t do that earlier. You got someone to hand that off too?”

“A friend of mine should be waiting around the 9 mile mark”, I knew the 9 km flag wasn’t too far away but forgot that 9 miles wasn’t 9 km’s, 9 miles is more like 14 km’s. I take the shirt and tie it in a knot around my arm, something I learned while doing my long runs.

10.5 km

Running towards us on the other side of the road are the Elite Half-Marathoners. It’s quite the site to see them run in real life. Many of us begin to cheer them on. At this point I’m still running with the Team D Lady, she seemed to decide to stick with me for a little while anyway. Where’s Jon?

12.5 km

There’s Jon. Standing by a barricade on the other side of the road he fumbles with my camera as I fumble with my shirt. The whole time the Half-Marathoners are running in the other direction between us. I see an opening and throw my shirt at him, keeping one arm by my face in anticipation as if I was shooting a basketball after the buzzer had gone.

He shoots, he scores!

The shirt lands perfectly on Jon’s shoes just as he takes the picture.

13.25 km

Until now it was still surprisingly crowded. This is when all of the Half-Marathoners turn around and head back to the start. Man did it ever thin out. Around this time the residential buildings stop surrounding us and you can feel the cold wind pick up. I start to think, “Why didn’t I do the half? I would be going back already.”

14.5 km

We head up the big hill. The one that was concerning me for almost a week. I remember what Sarah said, “Once you start running up a hill don’t stop and don’t slow down.”

16 km

The hill finally plateaued. Surprisingly the hill that I had been training on, although it wasn’t quite as much of an elevation change, was a lot tougher. My hill was steeper. Much steeper. Maybe I’ll make it through this after all.

21 km

This is the stupidest part of the race. About a quarter mile sooner we turn up this side street and once we hit 21 km’s we turn around in the middle of this small residential street and head back down.

21.1 km

Half way. There is a man standing beside a mat that has a sensor to read our time chip on our shoe. The man is rambling off times as we run across it. “2:09:38″ Wait, what? Really? I’m on my pace. How do I feel? I feel great. Maybe I’ll finish this thing after all.

22 km

There’s my parents again. Standing on the corner with smiling faces. My dad sticks out his hand and I slap it as I run by.

22.5 km

I could be done by now if I had chosen the half.

23 km – 31 km

The next 8 k were tough and the whole time TDL (Team D Lady) was drilling me with questions. I love hated her at this point. She asked me about my marital status, my financial status and my educational status. Within these 8 k were several small hills. We were constantly going up and down, running on slants to the left and then slants to the right. My feet were beginning to hurt and I developed a cramp. Despite the full residential areas that we move through there wasn’t much to see and not a lot of people around.

31 km

There are my parents again. I take off my heart rate monitor and running watch and hand it over to my dad. It decided to reset itself around 24 km’s. Now back down the hill.

35 km

Jon’s back.

Man are my hands cold.

Jon runs with me for a half km and my spirit and pace pick up. My feet are hurting, my hands are freezing and my emotions are getting away from me.

37 km

I get so excited that I yell to all who are around me, “Only 5 k to go, just forget about the last 37.” People laugh and I attempt to surge. A quarter kilometer down the road I loose all momentum I had gained from the surge and die back down. I’m a little sluggish. There’s no way I can continue at the pace that I kept for the first 37 km but there is no way that I’m going to stop. TDL slowly starts to loose me. I use her back as a target.

38.5 km

I can’t see her anymore. Fighting back the tears I push forward. I’m going to finish, I can’t believe I’m going to finish.

39 km

The final water station. Man do I need this. I take a water, I take a gatorade and then I see it… there is a guy holding out soaking wet sponges. I almost cry again, my emotions are a mess. With the gatorade cup in my left hand and the lip of the water cup in my teeth, I grab the sponge and exhale a “Thank You” through the water cup. Nothing could feel better than this sponge across my face right now.

40 km

People are breaking down all over the place. I pass some that are now walking, others that stop at intervals to stretch out the pain and few that cannot go any further. Push through the pain.

41 km

Finally I get to turn off of the 8 km long stretch of one street. I’ve studied the map, I know just how close I am. 1.2 km’s away. My mind is jello.

41.25 km

A volunteer shouts, “Only 500 meters to go”.

41.35 km

A volunteer shouts, “Only 500 meters to go”.

41.5 km

A volunteer shouts, “Only 500 meters to go”.

41.75 km

A volunteer shouts, “Only a few hundred meters to go”. Some one needs to give these guys a tape measure.

41.9 km

Despite all of the lies from the last few volunteers I feel great and know that the finish is around these next two corners. I’m still shocked I’ve come this far.

42 km

Only one corner to go. Everything hurts. I’m exhausted. I was going slowly but determined to keep running.

42.1 km

Just turned the final corner. I can see the finish chute.

Nothing hurts anymore.

It feels like I just started the race.

Did they just say my name across PA system?

Sub 4:30:00 here I come! EFF YEA!