The Hunt

For breakfast this afternoon I had three chicken tacos from Chipotle, with corn salsa, sour cream, cheese, and lettuce.

I am in Ohio, in a deceptively large Starbucks with a friendly barista (baristo?) who informed me that the peppermint tea I ordered was his favorite. It is 1:04 pm, and I am continuing to perfect the skill of entertaining myself in random places.

This entry will be dedicated to everyone who is un or unhappily employed. Hello there! I actually came in here to fill out job applications, but figured I might as well indulge myself in some creative writing first. I think you should know that this is the 3rd Starbucks I found in my GPS, and the first not located in a Kroger. I know that it's the Wal-Mart of coffee. But I have a gift card!

It's funny how time and reality combine to lower your ideals and subdue your imagination. I'm not discontented with this; it's a miracle how submissive I feel towards the whole thing. It's the middle of June, and I'm still sending out teaching applications, and at this moment am considering the following employment opportunities:

1. J Crew
2. Victoria's Secret
3. Any other retail store that will pay me
4. The coffee shop I worked in two summers ago with the emotionally abusive boss
5. An English teacher in the Middle East

Now, number five is the most lucrative. You can make great money to live on a compound, bombs shattering around you, teaching small children their ABC's. When I fell in love six months ago, I thought life would just work itself out.

I'm suppressing audible chuckles at this elevated, round coffee table. Deep breath. I really might lose it in public. I've been inspired by a lot of people lately. My aunt, who told me stories of riding her moped in California as a twenty-year-old, getting harassed at every red light because she couldn't afford a car. "The odd colors are always cheaper!" she learned after finally purchasing one. (Should I sell my white Nissan? Use half the money to buy something puke-green?) My best friend from high school, who after pursuing entomology in college (the biology of insects), is working on his second master's degree (counseling) in Boston, and managing at J-Crew to pay the bills. (That's what inspired me to work at J Crew. That and the wispy, perfectly-fitting sundresses). My American friend I taught/suffered with in Korea who is thinking of going back, because her job with children in Minnesota was so unethical she had to quit, and she is determined to pay her way through grad school. (It wouldn't kill me to leave the country for a year and go somewhere horrible! Husbands in poor countries do it all the time!) My mom, who is taking it a day at a time, exhausted from some mysterious sickness (Lyme's disease, they decided most recently), for more than eleven years. "Laugh or cry," she said, "You have to pick one." (Laugh, of course!)

The other day I shocked myself by breaking my running record by six minutes. I went with my dad to a park near where we live (this translates, in Virginia terms, into acres and acres of woods and creeks and fields and trees), and took off on a jog. The sky was bright blue, there was a breeze in the air, sunlight was filtering down through leaves in the woods, and I just kept going. One trail turned into another, turned into a field, and thirty minutes later, the switchbacks got a bit frustrating and I was ready to get back. Naturally, I climbed a barbed wire fence (why? why?), cut my legs up, walked across a hay field, go lost, and eventually made it back. But I ran more than ever!

I did track in high school. I was horrible. Sometimes I would skip races at meets because I hated them so much (most common was the 200 meter). At the beginning of every practice, I would mumble I hope we don't have to run today. I would pray for rain. My second year I switched over to high jump just so I wouldn't have to run. My coach, an ex-military no-nonsense mother of three, didn't mind at all. She didn't see any potential in me so she pretty much turned a blind eye to my laziness. The mile warm-up at the beginning of practice was deathly. The crunches (ten sets of 75) left me in searing pain for days. The races were humiliating.

So why did I do it? Firstly, to "get in shape." (What a funny thought for a fifteen year old. I ate honey buns before practice and didn't feel a thing). The reason I stayed was because I met a boy. Enough said.

About five months ago my roommate Hanna started going to the gym every day. She was so much happier. She looked so cute in her workout shorts and sports tops. I decided to start running. In February, I couldn't go for more than two minutes without stopping. In March, I was sure I had asthma because I couldn't breathe while I was running. In April, still going about four times a week, I had made it up to ten minutes. The pain! The entire center of my body felt like it wanted to combust. My lungs felt like infinitely tiny balloons. The water in my stomach would catapult around my body, so audible that I had to hold my hand over it so I wouldn't hear it. Why did I keep going? Well, some of you might know the difference in aggression and stress between exercising and not. Once, when I took a personality test, it told me I was half lion, which meant I was dominant and goal-oriented. It also said lions need to exercise. I think humans need to exercise too though. And when I run, it's like all the negative energy in me is just beaten out. It gives room for the tranquility and joy to grow. (I AM NOT KIDDING!)

Anyways. I've gone from dreading the mile-run in elementary school (I remember, age eight, listening to my own heaving breaths, wishing I could be taking a math test (my most hated subject) at that moment) to trotting along for a few miles at age 25.

This proves to me 1. miracles are real 2. discipline is valuable 3. not everything you assume is impossible really is.

The volume in Starbucks has escalated considerably. All that caffeine-induced chatter!

The point of the running bit is that even though God feels like a silent, distant, uninterested participant in my life right now- I know He is not. I know that He can do miracles because here I am, ten years later (!!!) doing what I always thought was impossible- cross country.

That encouragement is enough to keep me going. Also, the reason I'm in Ohio is because I'm chasing Jonathan around the country yet again, being a supportive girlfriend while he studies for his missile class. My brother got married Sunday, the weather is perfect, and there are three cats living at my house. Life is good! I keep thinking about what I read somewhere- What if you woke up today only with the things you thanked God for yesterday? I'm trying to thank Him for things today, just in case that happens. ;)