Run for Your Life, Part II

It was the end of the academic semester and three months before our major convention. In addition to part-time staff, I had an intern last summer, but this time I didn't. And there are only so many hours in the day. The stress wrapped itself around me like a vise. I felt tense all of the time. I developed problems sleeping and would wake up before my alarm went off and start thinking about work. Getting back to sleep was impossible, so I just went to work. I developed problems with eating.

Out of all this...a really great thing happened. I once again decided to get on the treadmill at 4:30 a.m. to run and walk. Just 1.5 miles at first. Then 2 miles with a generous walk/run ratio. Just two weekdays. My "long" runs on the weekends were at most just one more mile. Running is always hard at first because there are a lot of aches and pains. It was the only time when the stress melted away. I felt like a million and sometimes the effect lasted for the rest of the day. And sooner - or later - running gets easier and 2 miles isn't so hard. I still have a tiny base, and I have no plans to do anything except increase my base little by little. Consistency is still a challenge. I've run two 5Ks this summer and I hope to find another one. I hope to continue.

Run For Your Life

Not long ago, I left a staff position at a large association that I’d held for 13 years and took a management position at a small nonprofit. I had stayed in my previous position due to many externalities related to being a married working mother and longed for a change. The new position was one that I’d said I’d hoped one day to hold on my graduate school applications. The career move changed my entire life, but left me wondering if it was for the better.

I’d previously worked about 40 hours a week, commuted two hours daily, and completed two graduate classes a semester. I ascribed to a philosophy of yin and yang—as I understood it—and counterbalanced work and studying by the equal and opposing physical activity of training for and running my third half marathon. However, my training plan and fitness level were modest. In my new position, I worked about 50 hours a week, commuted up to 3 hours daily, and completed a single graduate class a semester. As the pace of the job sped up and the months flew by, life got out of balance as I found it difficult to get back into a fitness routine and fended off minor stress-related physical problems. At my lowest point, after a difficult day at the office, I sprained my ankle getting up from the couch, and after sitting on the couch another month to recuperate, I could barely walk two blocks without getting winded.

I've greatly enjoyed the ups and downs of running and multisport. I originally started running to lose weight. Then I ran for various other reasons...

Reasons Why….

• I run because it’s a back-to-nature experience and I enjoy seeing the local ecosystems change with the seasons
• I run for the endorphins
• I run because I want to give it another season
• I run because it allows me to run away from my stress at the end of the day
• I run because it wakes me up in the morning (if I can get up to run!)
• I run because it allows me to review my class material
• I run because I think it might reduce migraines (of course, there’s no proof, but it’s motivating!)
• I run because I want to tri

But now, I'm not running to race or to have a racing season. I'm running for my life. I want to run because it's the only way that I can relieve stress.

I'm ready to ponder the central theme of Joanne Ciulla’s book, The Working Life: The Promise and Betrayal of Modern Work (2000), which focuses on the meaning of work, it's place in our lives, and leisure. Send your muse my way because that's the topic of my next paper.

Raise Your Hand When You Want to Change the Subject

Every semester, I always debate whether or not to mention that I'm deaf when classes begin, and so far, I've always let my instructors know that I'm deaf. Although I'm documented with the school's office of disability services as a student with a disability, I've never actually used any accommodations because I never felt the need. I simply let instructors know that I am deaf and will not likely use accommodations, but may do so if I face any unforseen challenges. What could be wrong with this picture?

I became deaf just before middle school. Now I'm in grad school and can finally hear the teacher in class with my cochlear implant without the need for additional assistive technology or other accommodations. Do I hear everything? No. There's always a student in the back of the class in the cornter that I can't understand. And I'm sure that I miss a thing or two that the teacher says. But to me, being able to understand most, but not all, of the instruction and dialogue is good enough and I'm happy with what I do hear. One of the reasons that I wanted the cochlear implant was because I knew one day I would return to school and I thought the implant would make it easier -- and it has. I'm thrilled to be able to sit down in class and understand the teacher.

However, not all the instructors seem to react so positively.

In one class, I would raise my hand and not get called on. Then I wrote a paper in which my grade was 20 points higher than the average grade in the class on the project. After that, the teacher began to call on me.

This semester, I got an A on my paper. I had my hand up numerous times during a discussion in which I had a lot of opinion. I was called on just once, although others in the class were called on repeatedly during the conversation.

I don't like to blurt out responses in class because I prefer to clearly have the conversational ball.
But what does it take to get called on and participate?

The solution to this situation is:
a) Nothing. It is all in my imagination.
b) I should disclose my disability only if I need an accommodation.
c) Do my homework and keep quiet in class.
d) Stop writing multiple choice questions!
e) None of the above