I read a remarkable essay today. I want you to read it, too. It’s by a 22 year old woman, wise beyond her years who, unlike most of us, understood she had her whole life ahead of her. “Had” being the key word here. Shortly after writing this, she died in a car crash. That makes this even more important to read and share. It may make you cry or smile or reflect, but it’s worth the read.
“The piece below was written by Marina Keegan ’12 for a special edition of the News distributed at the class of 2012’s commencement exercises last week. Keegan died in a car accident on Saturday. She was 22.
We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life. What I’m grateful and thankful to have found at Yale, and what I’m scared of losing when we wake up tomorrow and leave this place.
It’s not quite love and it’s not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it’s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can’t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt. The hats.
Yale is full of tiny circles we pull around ourselves. A cappella groups, sports teams, houses, societies, clubs. These tiny groups that make us feel loved and safe and part of something even on our loneliest nights when we stumble home to our computers — partner-less, tired, awake. We won’t have those next year. We won’t live on the same block as all our friends. We won’t have a bunch of group-texts.
This scares me. More than finding the right job or city or spouse – I’m scared of losing this web we’re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.
But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They’re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn’t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I’m 30. I plan on having fun when I’m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd “should haves…” “if I’d…” “wish I’d…”
Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We’re our own hardest critics and it’s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I’ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.
But the thing is, we’re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we’ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that’s okay.
We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.
When we came to Yale, there was this sense of possibility. This immense and indefinable potential energy – and it’s easy to feel like that’s slipped away. We never had to choose and suddenly we’ve had to. Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.
For most of us, however, we’re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we’re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I’d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I’d thought to apply for this or for that…
What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.
In the heart of a winter Friday night my freshman year, I was dazed and confused when I got a call from my friends to meet them at EST EST EST. Dazedly and confusedly, I began trudging to SSS, probably the point on campus farthest away. Remarkably, it wasn’t until I arrived at the door that I questioned how and why exactly my friends were partying in Yale’s administrative building. Of course, they weren’t. But it was cold and my ID somehow worked so I went inside SSS to pull out my phone. It was quiet, the old wood creaking and the snow barely visible outside the stained glass. And I sat down. And I looked up. At this giant room I was in. At this place where thousands of people had sat before me. And alone, at night, in the middle of a New Haven storm, I felt so remarkably, unbelievably safe.
We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that.
We’re in this together, 2012. Let’s make something happen to this world.”
Read this line again: “We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.”
Sure, you can dwell on what you did or didn’t do today or yesterday, but tomorrow is a clean white board. Grab a marker and fill it in.
To me, nothing beats kettlebell training outdoors. It just seems more natural to me. Some of the last few classes I’ve offered have been outside. At times it may have seemed a tad on the cool side, but once you get going, you don’t really notice. It also offers more freedom to do or try things you can’t inside a facility.
Now here’s your chance to experience outdoor training! Join me at Johnstone Crossing Fitness Park at Jennings Crescent (across from #213 – end of Jack Crescent at Jenner Crescent – make sure you go to the one with the outdoor fitness gear!!) in Red Deer for classes starting June 5th.
There are three options:
#2) One day a week, either Tuesday or Thursday for $11.00 or $55.00 total.
#3) Drop in for $12.00 per drop in.
Each class will run 7:00pm to 8:00pm. Classes start June 5th and runs till July 5th
In order to ensure the classes run I need a minimum of four signed up and paid in advance to run the class.
Payment deadline is Thursday, May 31st 5:00pm with cash or cheque. Drop in fees can be paid the night you attend.
Contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org to arrange payment.
Any cancellations, changes or postponements will be announced on the Primal Movers Facebook page. Join here: https://www.facebook.com/PrimalMovers
As most of you know I kind of enjoy kettlebells and teaching others how to use them safely and add them to a routine. The next step for me is what is called the HKC certification created by Dragon Door. I’m pleased to announce one will be held in Sylvan Lake on November 3rd, 2012. All the details are here:
This is essentially one step below the “black belt” of kettlebell-dom known as the Russian Kettlebell Challenge Instructor Certification. The HKC is a one day, nine hour seminar to give you a great understanding of the fundamentals of kettlebell training.
All the details and cost are available at the link above. This is a great course for anyone, instructor, trainer, or the kettlebell practitioner, whether you’re learning or want to further your kettlebell skills, this a great course.
I certainly hope you can join us in November.
Click the link above for more details!
Call it whatever you want, workout log, diary, training log, journal.. I honestly feel you need to have one.
And I just filled another.
Each one tells a story. Each story can be shared with others or kept to yourself. Regardless, I feel it’s a good thing to peer back at them every so often to see if you are making any progress or if you are staying stagnant. If you’ve wondered what your PR is for a certain lift, it’s there. Did you feel a weird pain in your body somewhere? Maybe you scribbled that in there, too.
You can be as detailed as you want. Some people fill in food, macros, fluid intake, darn near anything they feel is important.
You can use whatever you choose to write in, too. The last few years I’ve been using a simple steno pad. You can buy logs designed for tracking workouts and food if you’d like. With iPods and such, chances are pretty good there is an app for that now, too so you never have to worry about a pen.
With a detailed log of your training you might note little things that indicate injury forthcoming, or mood swings from over-training or under-eating.
A little history never hurt anyone and sometimes seeing it written down makes it matter more.
So, grab a pen, pad of paper and jot down your sessions. It’s pretty easy.
Oh, and I just checked, there are multiple apps for workout logs. 🙂
In my short time in the fitness industry I’ve bumped into many people who are afraid. It seems some are afraid they’ll fail, or they are afraid of the gear, machines or weights or maybe it’s the changes and how some of their friends and family might feel as they embark on a journey to health and wellness.
I’ve been there. Afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stick with the health and wellness plan or afraid I might not pass a certification or afraid I wouldn’t be able to instruct or teach.
Well, let me tell you, you really have nothing to be afraid of. I took a major step years ago and left a job that paid very well to get into radio. This just as I was starting my family. Ya, I was afraid. But it seems to have turned out alright.
I also have an intense fear of heights. Well, not really the heights so much as the potential of falling from them. A few years ago we were in Vegas and I decided to do something totally out of character for me. I hopped on a ride called the X-Scream. I’m not afraid of rides, but this was different. I might not have gotten on it if I had seen it before hand.
Here’s the description: Ever played on a giant teeter-totter, 866 feet above the ground? With the X-Scream, you can! Its space age, yet simplistic design resembles a massive teeter-totter or a Vegas rollercoaster unlike any other ever seen. X-Scream propels you and several other riders headfirst, 27 feet over the edge of the Stratosphere Casino, Hotel & Tower. Try not to scream when you go over the edge — you don’t want to scare the other riders! After being shot over the edge, you’ll dangle weightlessly above the Las Vegas Strip before being pulled back and propelled over again for more.
Here’s a video:
Am I still afraid of falling from heights? Ya. I suppose. But whenever I feel afraid of something, I think about the 90 seconds or so I spent strapped in a rollercoaster car 866 feet above the Las Vegas Strip.
Hell, if I can do that, I can probably do anything.
And so can you.
Take the five minutes and watch this:
Now write down all the legitimate reasons why you can’t do the same.
Are you on Twitter? No? You should be. It’s a great way to network and tell stories in 140 characters or less. Really a neat concept.
I wish I had thought of it. And Facebook, and the home personal computer and well, a million other things, too. Alas, I did not.
You can find me on the Twitter Machine at @primalmoversTD
One other thing I wish I had thought of is whoever has the handle @FirstWorldPains. They tweet things like: “The time on my smartphone is 2 minutes faster than the time on my wristwatch and I don’t know which one is more accurate” and end it with a hashtag #firstworldpains
Ever since I started following this guy or gal it really put things into perspective for me. No matter how bad your situation is, there is always someone else in a worse scenario than you. Now I’m not talking big issues like cancer and death, I’m meaning little things like, well, like this: “I only have two and a half bathrooms in my house.” Again from @FirstWorldPains – great stuff. It’s like the writer is calling you out on your sheer willingness to believe your hangnail is the end of the world.
To some people this is serious feces and drives me up the wall.
The fact of the matter is we all have problems, big and small. Deal with them. Leave the little issues at the door, pick up a kettlebell and swing your guts out.
Seriously. Vent with twelve minutes of swings and suddenly your hangnail is no longer an issue.