byrdbeth

I am no longer blogging here but rather I am here:
http://carawrites.blogspot.com/ ( this is a short story or well maybe not so short story I am working on)
and
http://carabyrd.blogspot.com/ (this is my everyday life)

Isn’t amazing sometimes what life brings you. I have had a very good last couple of days. The highlights include:
-PRed in my 5k! I am ever so close to breaking 21…
-Flocast/flotrack wants me as an intern
-My team is amazing
- I am not as bad off as Brittney Spears
I will write more later.
Cara

Miles this week: 13 miles
Miles this month: 13 miles
A race is a work of art that people can look at and be affected in as many ways they're capable of understanding.”- Pre
The question is how do you make this work art? Early this week, I had a discussion with one of the new runners on the team who has never raced before. He asked me what he needed to do and what to expect. For once in my life, I could not explain it. I did say that there will be people who sprint out like mad and then will die. There is also a bit of jostling, but not to let that bother you. I could not tell him how to race. There are different theories and strategies to racing a race, no matter what distance. Until, you race your first race, you have no idea what works for you and what doesn’t. I have not quite found out what works for me yet, but I do know some strategies that do not work.

1)Starting out in a Sprint- This is the typical freshman mistake. You get so excited that you just sprint out and then lead for the next 400-800m then get passed and then die. I did this almost all through high school, and still do it today if I do not watch myself. I am not saying that I don’t start out fast, but I start out at a decent fast pace but I do not need to run my first mile a full minute faster than my second. I have found that if I go out fast enough say 20 seconds faster than my second mile, I race a lot better. To find out more about this idea runner’s world has a good article: http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-238-244-259-11738-0,00.html

2)Going out slow- I have found that when I personally go out slow, I can’t seem to pick up my pace. Going out at a medium fast pace allows me to get in a good position, and then I begin to pick up people. It does not matter if you can go a full minute faster in your last mile if your first two miles were slow. I would say hold some energy back in the tank but you do not want to be caught boxed in or in a bad position.

3)Basing your pace off of someone else- My senior year of High School at the State Cross Country meet, I was about a minute off of our first girl. This was not unusual for this is how I usually ran, what was unusual about this was that I was a minute off my PR. If I had kept up with her, I would have been on pace for what I normally ran. Instead, I expected myself to be that far behind her and did not race as hard as I could have. Everybody has a bad day including the best runners (note Alan Webb) and one can’t rely on them for all pace making efforts.

These are only suggestions and what I have found to work for myself, it is not a long list and this might not work for others but it is worth a try. I have yet really to find out what works well for me.

Cara

Miles so far this week: 25 (which I have no idea why Coach has let us drop mileage so much)
Miles since July 8: 314

So currently, I am sitting in my dorm room watching a Carson Newman football game. Why am I not at the football game? Well, it is 96 degrees outside and I do not want to take a shower so I can go outside again and get hot. I have really never liked football, most likely due the fact that they always take all the glory away from Cross Country. It seems childish, and I respect the football players, I just wish we could get as much funding. I am really tired of wearing sweats from 1950. Truly, I should be unconcerned with football, in our own time we will get recognition.

My classes are going well, but really it is too early to judge. So far I have gone to my classes and read the syllabuses. One lesson I have heard is that syllabuses really never give an accurate portrayal of the classes. I still do not have roommate, but I am getting use to having the room to myself. I am going to hate when someone moves in with me. Though the room does seem oddly empty, and perhaps another person will fill it up.

I think my room is haunted. Early this week, posters and pictures kept falling off my walls. I just thought it was really bad tape but I was noticing that this all happen around 2:30ish. So the other night, I was lying in bed, asleep, and all sudden I hear these thuds. I wake up immediately and the books on my shelves are like half way across the room. It was 2:30. I was so frightened. Last night though nothing happened and I just praying it stays that way.
My first meet is August 31, and it is 2 ¼ mile. It should be an experience to say the least.
Cara

Miles so far this week: 6.5-tempo run (could be longer due to getting lost for a bit yesterday)
Miles since July 8: 296

This heat wave is killing me, if it was not for panther creek I would not be able to manage. I love trail running, and sometimes I do not even know how I run road. It seems that we might have a break from this extreme heat today for it is suppose to storm. I would hate to miss a work-out, but I would love if it was a bit cooler.

I spent 500 dollars on books yesterday, and it killed me. I dislike spending money on objects that I dislike. I much rather spend the money on new shoes, a new bike, or clothes. You know normal girly stuff. I did get new running shoes yesterday for free. Carson Newman has a deal with UT (University of Tennessee ) where we get all their left over shoes. Luckily, I have such small feet that there are plenty of shoes left me to pick from.



I really do not know why need racing flats, but they were free. Though really it is if they are a reward for all my hard work.




These are the distance spikes for track. They are not that pretty, but as long as they work.

Yeah, I just wanted to post pictures,

Cara

Mileage for the week:60 miles
Mood: Slightly tired with a tinge of excitement.

I have been back at Carson Newman for a full week now, and I can't help feeling a little excited about the new school year. The three week I spent at Brevard Distance Running camp as part of the Junior Staff has seemed to pay off. It has greatly improved my running, trails and hills are not nearly as difficult. There are so many good memories from BDRC that I know this is a job I will try to do again next year. I also put in a lot of base mileage, and preseason did not seem nearly as hard. I just hope I can get some speed back before the first race. The team has lost three girls this year, and I believe we are only are having one new girl. I am going to have to step it up a bit since we lost the 2nd girl and I will need to take the role of the third runner (Cross Country is scored by having the top five runners from each team receiving a placement such as 1, 7, 8, 23, 45, and the team with lowest score wins). I hope I can step up. I feel really prepared for this season, and I have some pretty high goals. I want to run 19s by the end of season, and that means I have to take a minute and a half off. I can't help thinking that it might be a bit of a lofty goal. I ran really well in work-outs this week, and kept up with Aubrey (our number one runner and the Southern Atlantic Conference Champ. She made it to nationals last year on her own.) in most of the workouts, only get dropped towards the end of the week.

So far I have no roommate, and I love it. This situation will not last long for the Residence life will randomly assign roommates if there is space. I am just hoping that somehow this all workouts so I don't have one. I enjoy walking around the room naked way too much. One of my good friends is my R.A., so I am using that to my advantage, and it is really nice having her down the hall. Classes start Wednesday and I think this semester might be tough having Bio and Spanish. I am really looking forward to my public relations class though. It is just good to be back at College and almost back into a normal routine.
I know it was a slightly boring entry, but when I get stories, I will type them. Before then, I will try to get this whole improper comma use thing cleared out of the way.

I have my first track meet Thursday and of course I have this uneasy sense of unrest. I have this feeling inside me like doom and gloom are swapping saliva in my stomach. I am not ready for this and I am the type of person who hates to be unprepared. I feel as if I need three more weeks of hard training. Then again, I almost always have this feeling right before my first race of the season, especially when I have no idea what to expect. Well, I do know what to expect a bit, 800m is still going to be 800m: the distance won’t change and no water hazards will be added. Yet, the competition will be faster and perhaps more serious. I suppose the biggest change for me is that I am on the bottom of the running hierarchy again. I will be the one asking all the questions, not the one answering them. Well, damn it I like being the leader and being in control.
In other news, I suppose the Southern Baptist here at Carson Newman are serious about hell and brim fire for they have decided not to turn the air conditioning on. It is spring in Tennessee which means the average high is around 87 degrees. My lotion is the constancy of tomato soup. To avoid melting, I have stripped down to a cami and boxer shorts tinnier then any running shorts I own to sleep in without a blanket. I have also learned that leaving the refrigerator open is not a good idea for the food, I just hope my roommate does not realize what I have done.

I can never organize my life into a convincing post or any written word for that matter. It isn’t like my life is dull, it just seems fairly routine: class, practice, homework. It has been that way since high school. I do other activities, like a two hour long snowball fight at the boys’ dorm. I do not create trouble and trouble does not have a tendency to find me (I think I might have stolen those words from Harry Potter-3rd book when Mr. Weasely is talking to Harry. How do I know these things, and no I did not look that up). The fun I have might be spontaneous but it is rather safe. Sometimes, I long for a little danger or adventure, something that is novel worthy or even just reality TV worthy. Perhaps, I should just try harder for any good writer can make dullness seem exciting.
Cara

Dear John Mayer,

How could you? Really, how could you? You know what I am talking about. You have seen canoodling with a certain blonde celebrity that is not exactly the next Madame Curry. Though, I would not want to date an Albert Einstein either but I do believe that you could at least pick someone who knows that tuna is a fish. I am not saying that this big breasted, blonde celebrity is a horrible person, I am sure she is really nice. I just have this feeling that she is swimming on the rather shallow end of the pool where as I believe you need scuba gear because you’re so deep, though she could always her floatation devices. I could be making vast generalizations that don’t hit the mark at are.

Wasn’t it you who said
“Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation...so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type...I'm like, "Hey girl, magenta!" and she's like, "Oh, you mean purple!" and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, "No - I want magenta!" It just seems that Jessica comes from a packet of maybe three colors, you know the type you got as a kid when you went to a restaurant and they gave you a coloring sheet. I just had more faith in you John; I have seen your comedic genius and I do prefer the John Mayer Trio over your other stuff, though I like that too. I just for some reason believed you would pick better. Perhaps, this is just a bit of fun for you, she is very attractive. Do you really want a girl with so little substance? I do not know you or Jessica personally, but I can see this is heading in for disaster.

So John, this is my plea, get out while you can. Do you really want to end up like Nick? Why do you even want Nick’s leftovers? You better hope her Dad does not get involved.

With best regards,
Byrd

I don’t like New Year’s resolutions. They rarely hold up. Many people never hold up that promise to loose weight or whatever they want to do. It takes more to succeed then empty promises made on New Years. Commitment is what it takes. One must commit to work hard, and not stray. I won’t be making any New Year’s resolutions, instead I will commit to improve and to change for I like who I am there isn’t much that I want different. 2006 was a good year for me, I am only hoping 2007 is just as good.

At 10:00 tomorrow I will be done with my first semester of College. A lot has happened and I have changed. You know what never goes away? That feeling of wanting to be home for Christmas. That was a sentence fragment but that is ok.

Cara

Everybody knows this about me but I love to run. With the college being so hectic with my first semester coming to the end, running has become my refuge. I quite literally, run away from my problems. There seems to something poetic about lacing up my shoes and escaping the campus. I can escape the work, my (annoying) roommate, the library, and my worries.

My best thinking comes when I am running. The roads here in Jefferson City are all rural and many times the only thing on the road with me is cows. The peace and quiet let me sort out my thoughts. Somehow, I feel closer to God, much closer sitting in any church. Anytime, I feel awful or downtrodden, I go run. There is something about my feet striking the ground that lets me unravel my thoughts. I suppose that is what it is, unraveling. Not unraveling in a negative way but in a postive way, like removing a ponytail holder from my hair. Everything just is better and my mood so much more upbeat. I love running.

Finals end the 13th, and I can’t wait to be home for Christmas.

Cara

I got hit on at the YMCA. Do I really look that much hotter in running clothes? Perhaps it is the self confidence that I have when I am in my running clothes? Or perhaps it is the lack of clothing?

I feel like I am homeless. Though not in the truest sense of term, I’m not living under a bridge and I have a roof over my head. Murfreesboro no longer feels like home. It feels a visit with the relatives when I go to my house. So much has changed, and when I go back for Christmas, I will no longer have a room. When I am in Murfreesboro I miss Jefferson City.

Then again, Carson Newman isn’t home either. It is just some place temporary. Home is not temporary. Jefferson City is not where I belong for the rest of my life. It won’t be home for me. When I am here, I miss Murfreesboro.

I am neither here or there, just somewhere in between.

Finals soon! I’m a little scared. Math is kicking my ass as it usually does.

Cara

For once, I am glad I went to a CLW and not because I am only two away from completing my requirement. I am glad because the CLW impacted me.


Children fear for their lives. They move every night to sleep in the streets of cities for they will be safe there. They fear they will be abducted by a rebel group who will force them to kill or be killed. They are trained to be soldiers or sex slaves. They gain no education, starve, kill others, and die. The world has turned a blind eye to this.


The atrocities that are being committed in Northern Uganda are horrendous and reminiscent of the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. At the time, the world stood by and did nothing as thousands of people were murdered. Our response as a country to this new crisis should not be an echo of our response to the Rwanda genocide twelve years ago.



As a country and as a people that care, we have a responsibility to take a lead in the quest to find resolution to the problem More then 30,000 children have been abducted from towns and camps to sustain the Lord’s Resistance Army and ninety percent of the region’s population of nearly two million people has been relocated into Internally Displaced People Camps that lack food and security.



What exactly can we do?

We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

http://www.invisiblechildren.com/home.php

The Democrats have control of the house and maybe the Senate.
Will everything change?
Or will we still be waiting?

It seems sad that I can measure my life in 3 seasons:
-Cross Country Season
-Off Season
-Track Season

Another chapter has ended today and it will be titled Cara’s crazy freshman year as a college cross country runner. Last week, I would have told you that it was going extremely slow and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. For some reason, I am already missing it. It was so amazing to start with a clean slate. I had no previous PRs in a 5k and 6k, never hated a course before I got there, or any negative experiences to go with the races. It will never be this way again. I was a walk on and no one had any expectations of me. Next year, everybody will know. I have an amazing team and meeting new crazy personalities but next year I could tire of them. Next year, I will have goals where as this year my only goal was to be a college runner. I am excited to have three more years of Carson Newman Cross Country.

I ran my race well today, I PRed for a 6k. The course was hard being long with rolling hills, but it seemed to suit me. I expected the weather to be chilly but it was just right. One of my teammates won the race and the team did fairly well. The season was a bit disappointing, but being a freshman I can always say there is next year.

It is hard to describe a race; I can’t even remember what is going through my head. It just happens. I can remember every curve and uphill but I can’t remember what I was thinking. It is almost like my brain turns off and focuses on the race. I know when I run alone or in a group thoughts just come and go and it seem that I make a lot of lists. Very rarely do these list and thoughts survive me to get them down on paper. Perhaps, I should run with a voice recorder or a pen and paper tucked in my sports bra.

Cross-training begins soon; I can’t wait to get on my road bike too bad it is 3 hours away.

Cara

*A year ago today I was crying my eyes out over a bad race. I am glad I have grown up since then. Crying is now only reserved for utter failure and heartbreak.
*I don't like the new Gilmore Girls. It is too sappy and Rory has become a wuss.
*Robert Frost poems are running through my head way too often these days.
*I miss good bookstores. I miss wandering for hours picking out books. Jefferson City needs something other then a Walmart.
*High School did not prepare for so much writing.
*This type of weather makes me crave a fireplace, a blanket, a hot drink and a boy.
*Would it be bad to pose for a nude photograph if it is for art and by a girl?
*I want to see Rocky Horror Picture show at a theater on Halloween

I have trouble with comma splices and run on sentences. Apparently, I need to meet in the middle with my grammar problem and not to either extreme. I can’t overdo commas or be without them.

The past couple of days, I have been living in extremes; either extreme moodiness or feeling nothing. Friday morning I had a breakdown over a grade, but by that afternoon in the van trip to Black Mountain, I was in a complete state of not caring anymore. After the conference race I was angry at the placing but later I didn’t seem to care anymore about the results. Do I handle disappointment but simply forgetting it? It this can’t be healthy at all, perhaps I should learn to care more. I know I come off as cold hearted but is this simply my coping mechanism? So many thoughts there are to ponder.

I felt like I needed to share this with people. This is my first english paper in college, and it is quite honest, though a bit has been embesslished. The following is a story:

The familiar feeling rose in my chest, the one where a million hyper active butterflies were pounding their tiny wings upon my ribcage, and they would soon migrate to my brain to block every one of my coherent thoughts. I was accustomed to the feeling for it happened every time Jim Hurder came around me. Jim was what I consider my first real crush. I do not remember having any crushes before him, but I am sure I did.Ironically, realizing that Jim was imperfect taught me that self confidence and hard work are important qualities.
Jim Hurder has many qualities that were admirable. He was our school’s fastest runner, held a major role in every school musical, and achieved a 4.0. He was and still is exceedingly handsome with an athlete’s build, perfectly shaggy brown hair, and an amazing smile. He was my own Orlando Bloom. I was not the only girl in school who had a crush on him; I am pretty sure he had a fanclub. The best quality was that he wasn’t vain; he did not boast about his talents. He was amazingly humble about his amazing attributes.
I do not remember the particular moment I fell for Jim. I do remember other girls whispering in the halls about how gorgeous and perfect Jim was. “If I was younger, I would so go after him” was repeated by many upperclassmen, who saw themselves as too young to become the “older woman” just yet. I do know that by my sophomore season of Cross Country, I was utterly useless around him. I was able to carry a conversation with Jim, but the conversations tended to be silly and rambling, though they weren’t much different then my typical conversation that were mostly pointless. I liked to be the center of attention, and I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. One particular moment stands clearly out in my mind. One warm Friday afternoon after Cross Country practice, Jim asked what I was doing for the weekend, and I managed to fill thirty minutes worth of time discussing the need to finish my research paper. I could have kicked myself for that lame response. I am sure Jim did not want to hear about the Nazi Olympics and Jesse Owens. I had only shown my ignorance and lack of social skills. More moments such as this occurred and my crushed only seem to worsen until the early fall of junior year.
“Hawkins,” my cross country coach called me and of course I went to him. “Can you give Jim a ride home?” he asked me, and all I could do was simply nod my head in response. I was elated at the chance to redeem myself, and let him see how wonderful of a person I was .I just hoped I could carry on a normal conversation and not hit a mailbox. We walked to the car in uncomfortable silence. I slipped into my black car to start the air conditioning to hoping to cool the warm air, much warmer then the cool autumn air outside. Little traffic hindered us and we were soon on our way to his house. I tried to start a conversation by asking, “Where is your car?” “My brother is home,” he responded. The conversation did not get much better. Every question I asked seemed to get a monosyllable response. If he did not give me more then a sentence answer I was going to stop the car and make him walk. The air was thick without breezy words filling it. I tried to fill the air with interesting conversation, but I only felt like I was talking to myself. I looked at him to seek any sign of interest; he seemed to be only staring at the bleak landscape of the cow fields my car was passing. That fifteen minute car ride felt like eternity. When we finally arrived at his house, I felt horribly disappointed.
On the car ride home alone with Jack Johnson blaring over my sound system, I replayed the car trip over in my head. I tried to figure out why I was so disappointed. I had not expected a romantic moment with kisses and sweet nothings being whispered in my ear. I expected a normal conversation that did not feel like we were perfect strangers. I had tried. The bright reds and oranges of the leaves swirled pass my window as my thoughts began to sort themselves out in my mind. Like leaves, my thoughts fell into place, and I realized that Jim was not some superhero, just a human like me who worked hard at his talents and was self confident enough not to have to be the center of attention. I could do the same and work to better my talents. I was determined to be admired by others.
After getting over the crush, Jim and I became friends. We had much in common: a similar taste in indie pop music, a passion for running, and a strict work ethic. He was there to help when, later my junior year; I fell only five meters from the finish line of the qualifying track race, thus failing to make it to the state meet. He was able to calm me down, and the next year when I made it to state he came to see me run. To this day, He makes fun of my country accent, and I tease him about his newly acquired northern one. Words come naturally to us both now and conversation flows naturally. We worked out better as friends. We became equal in a relationship based on trust not a silly fluttering in my chest.
I took the lesson I learned from my silly crush and used it. The change came quickly, and my friends started to notice. “You have matured, but I don’t know when it happened” became a common phrase I heard. This comment was much better than the “just be quiet” that I heard for so many years before. All I could do was inwardly smile when the comment reached my ears. I became captain of the track and field team that very same spring. Listening to other complaints was hard at first when I knew they were just making excuses as why not to work. I keept my mouth shut and waited until they were done to correct them. I’m not saying I was perfect and I still had problems with one girl, but I did not let that get in the way of me being successful. By my senior year, I was chosen captain of my cross country team out of ten other seniors. I won the leadership award for leading my team. I now know when to talk and when to be silent. I learned lesson by working hard at my talents and learning that I did not need to always be the center of attention. I did not have a fairy tale ending to my crush where I was swept off my feet and carried off to live happily ever after. I had an ending that was better; I had an ending where I was the hero and learned to love myself.