Thursday - June 5

So the point of all of this was to help us understand more about ourselves as leaders. We each lead an activity, each had a chance to stand in front of the others and guide. I found it interesting - hearing what they had to say about me, seeing what others said about each other. I'm not really, well, compassionate at work. I'm there to do a job dammit, not head a social event. But if I'm to stay with the firm, I'm going to need to get there. Thursday evening, rolled through pictures and videos of the days, Tobias' odd (to me) techno thumping in the background. Dinner at Cabo Wabo down the street, shots, dancing, but early bed with a 3 am wake up call. Flying back, thinking about my next move, and James, ready to leap.

Wednesday - June 4

The day I'd been looking forward to. We're all tired but charged. Let me first say, heights scare me to death. The living crap out of me. Palms sweat at the thought. Terrified. Get it? First task, build a Tyrolean rope bridge (look it up sweethearts) across a river, probably 60 feet above, small rapids, lots of rocks. Took for freaking ever, running from one side to the other, trying to figure out the knots, pretty frightening to think that this thing was supposed to support our weight, suspended over the river and rocks. We did it, with the gracious and extensive help of our guides Glenn and Tobias. We worked frantically, then launched Siranoush, me and Imran across, triumphant and laughing our asses off. Then a mental game, pieces of paper passed around, clues on each, we had to figure out which farmer drove a truck. Smart cookies that we are, we finished in 15 minutes. Then the thing I wanted and feared, repelling. The scene was magnificent, waterfall into Lake Tahoe to our right, snow-capped mountains behind. I was afraid for a moment, then let it go as I watched the team one by one go over the edge and down to the ledge below. When my time came, I felt - nothing. No fear, no excitement, just ready to get it done, the ritual, the mechanics. Finally, there was building a natural protection for an egg that was dropped from 5 meters and singing our team "song". Our egg, sadly, did not come away intact. The song, however, was a triumph, the whole team choreographed and flapping away to Becca's lyrics.

Tuesday - June 3

First day with Outward Bound, everyone is quiet and pensive, some more than a little hung over. Nervous chatter, a group of profound type-A's out of our element. Lot's of touchy-feely "be the pinecone" stuff in the beginning. Bunch of exercises, most harder than they sounded. Webbing strung between trees, we had to walk on it from tree to tree like tight-wire walkers. Then creating two overlapping squares from ropes while blindfolded. My exercise to lead, run from a starting point to a roped-in area with numbers 1-30 randomly scattered, we had to touch all numbers and run back, no talking, in 30 seconds. Then we were a herd of blindfolded sheep with a wordless, paralyzed shepherd, trying to herd us into an imaginary pen, my favoriate, releasing myself behind my blindfold, laughing hysterically, learning later than everyone was in the same state. Finally, we went to the beach, where we found lumber, rope, deflated pontoons, our tools for building a raft that 5 of us would paddle into Lake Tahoe, picking up three bouys, return to shore, dissassemble the raft, our downfall. With two guys on the team tipping the scale at about 240, we lashed the hell out of that thing, took us a long freaking time to take it apart. Dinner with the team, wth next day's activities set up for us while we ate. We planned late into the night, the pressure to perform continuous, pushing my resentment to the surface.

Monday - June 2

Class work, lots of rhetoric about how to behave, how to manage, what we're supposed to say, who we're supposed to be at the firm. I'm turning over in my head how I'm treated vs. how I'm being told to treat others. Talk, talk, talk, it doesn't mean much. We're all pulled away from the training for work, all distracted, all seem to be wondering what to do next, why to stay. If I stay, I'm committing to partner. If I go, I want my life to be different. Everyday, get out of my comfort zone. Later I'm teamed up - Siranoush, a constant source of inspiration, Imran, Jet, Thornton, Anurag and Rebecca. A strange and unusual mixture, people who I will learn to literally trust with my life.

Sunday - June 1

Flying today, JFK-Pheonix-Reno, then an hour's drive to Lake Tahoe, windows down, air cool, suddenly surrounded by snow-capped mountains. I'm astonished at how beautiful it is here, but can't appreciate it. I'm here for work, training, and I'm anxious, riding with Siranoush, Vikas, Fernando, Boaz and Bryce, who all know each other. I'm older, newer to the firm, less secure in why I'm here. I just breath in the thin air, trying to take it all in. Dinner later with the beginnings of the rest of the group. Drank too much, ate too much, head spinning in the high altititude, tossed all night, my body rebelling as it adjusts to the mountains.

Things I learned from running

I know that if I have a bad run today, tomorrow is another chance to be spectacular. I don't need a lot. Shoes, sock, running bra, shorts. Watch and iPod are nice to haves, not need to haves. Know the difference. Listen to my body and trust what it tells me. Drink before I'm thirsty, pain is not a chance to suck it up, take the opportunity to blow it out on the good days. Prepare for the future. Running more than an hour - bring Gu. Have lunch handy after a long run. Tuck a $20 in my pocket for long runs in that remote chance that you need to come by cab instead of by foot. Prioritize where the money goes. Shoes are important, and cost is no issue if they take care of my feet/legs/hips. Shorts just need to cover my ass, though riding up is a deal-breaker. I'm okay on my own. I like running with groups, and have met great friends that way. But on my own, I set my pace, head out at those obscenely early hours that I like. It's okay to be average sometimes, to just get out there and try. I'm not genetically designed to be fast. I'm big and lumbering, and am happy to take pride in a sub-10-minute race pace. Keep happy babies.

My love story

We met at work. You interviewed me, in fact, my head all around how much I wanted this job, not around your tall strong body, your long capable hands. Later, when I had the job, we were together constantly, you teaching me, me teaching you, finding each other out. You ran too, 22 marathons to my 3 then. Then we went to Barcelona. Three days of work, you asked if I wanted to stay a couple of extra days, since we were making the trip. Business, business, then mid-day Friday, we were free, wandering the streets. Later, dinner, another colleague with us, eating, laughing, drinking, until 4 in the morning when we wandered off to our hotel, co-worker off to another. We walked the streets, you carrying my shoes, tall and happy beside me. And then, sudden, unexpected, you were kissing me, telling me how proud you were of my finishing the marathon days before, telling me you loved me.Two days later, we were back in Chicago, back in our real lives, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. We spent three months figuring things out, seeing each other at work every day, keeping it all secret, talking for hours to and from work. The turning point came at New Year's - you had the flu. I came to take care of you and sort of never left. There are moments that are frozen for me, after the kiss in Barcelona. In January we were in London with a group from work, riding in a van with everyone, you reached down in the dark and cupped my calf gently in your hand, secretly caressing me. Then it was March, we'd been dating six months. We'd been traveling together for work for weeks. Then, I went to Rome to run the marathon, you went to Aspen to ski. After the run, I sent you a text telling you I had finished, fine, good time. You sent back "So proud of you, congratulations. Now come home." Later, of course, it fell apart, but for a few moments it was perfect and great. Two years later, we've regained some of the friendship. We talk, we had dinner here a few weeks ago, and it was funny and good, but the longings are gone for me. You saved me, and for that I'm always grateful.

Giving in to the need

It came in on calloused feet

covering me

like a hat i didn't know that i needed

or wanted

appearing suddenly in my hands

comforting and soft

somehow familiar

somehow foreign

i'd distanced myself from the need

in order to not want it

because it was easy

and i was lazy

or perhaps a cynic

but discovering one day that i was cold

my bones frozen

afraid that it would be too late

i will give in to it

just a little

She gives me what I need

My family is still in the south, and my parents still struggle with why I live in New York and not Atlanta. Nothing against Atlanta, but it doesn't hold me the way that New York does (Chicago was even more nurturing until I got my heart broken there, but that's another story). New York gives me miles to explore, dozens of museums to wander, music, food, wine, people of all varieties to broaden my mind. When I run, she gives me tree-lined paths in the Park, or river views on the West side, and hundreds of companion runners. In the fall, it will give me the marathon just a few steps from my front door. Yea, she can be a royal pain in the ass, but I love her all the same. That being said, I have a faint yearning for a big dog and a deck for grilling and summer wine. do good darlings

How do I explain this life?

How do I explain that I don't know where I am going to be from week to week? That I'm away from home most of the week, and that when I come home, sometimes I just need to sleep. That even when I'm on the road, it's almost impossible to get five minutes of privacy for a personal call during the day. Sure, when you're in your late 20's, just coming out of b-school, this job is probably good, its probably fun to travel, collect millions of mileage points, and build up the resume. But me, I'm 41 for Pete's sake. I love to travel, but after the first couple of weeks on an assignment, I'm missing my bed and resentful that I don't have any say in most aspects of my life Mon-Thurs. That being said, I've got a good life, live in a city I love, work with wicked smart people, and like the work itself. Quit ya bitchin' and get to work.