Lessons, Learned

Yesterday I set out for 18k, my longest long training run yet, fully prepared. I couldn't believe how prepared I looked as I passed the hall mirror on my way out the door: Spibelt AND wristlet AND water bottle? I was dripping gear. I had a new route all plotted out in my head, but also mapped out on my computer in case Devan needed to send out a search party. Even my blood sugars were conciliatory: 8.0 and steady, a perfect starting number.

I ended up running 22k completely by mistake.

My Google training calendar was not pleased with me, not at all.

My plan was to run north and east, catch the Belt Line, loop through Mt. Pleasant cemetery, enter the ravine system, let it dump me back onto St. Clair and end up around Bathurst. Then I'd grab the streetcar and head home--1:30 mins, 1:40 tops. And it would have worked out that way (near perfect!) if I hadn't forgotten my Metropass at home. 8k into the run I realized I didn't have my pass or enough change to get myself home. I balked. In an effort to shorten the overall distance, I just headed north, thinking that I'd run into the cemetery sooner or later. This became my 1st Time Getting Lost. Who knew the UCC campus could be so confusing?

I finally found the Belt Line, and then the cemetery. I thought things were smoothing out until I hit my 2nd Time Getting Lost. Mount Pleasant is all curvy roads that lead NOWHERE. I did come across a map...one that had two separate 'You Are Here' dots marked on it. I walked in circles for at least fifteen minutes. Ghosts were moving faster than me.

Finally, finally, I found Moore Park Ravine. This trail, at least, was consistent, even if I had absolutely no clue where I was in the city. I checked my blood sugar somewhere past the Brick Works and realized I'd been cruising along with a blood sugar of 3.5. This is probably the point where I started to cry: lost in the east end, dangerously low blood sugar, no phone, no Metropass, and miles to go. Assumed I'd see Death but all I saw were golden retrievers.

I kept going, and kept GUing. I made it to St. Clair and Bathurst, my original end point, and conceded to keep running. I'd hoped to run this one at an easy pace, but the longer it went on the more I just wanted to be back home--so I ran fast. Really fast. Too fast?

In the end, according to mapmyrun and my shitty watch, I ran 22.2k in about 1:55. That is definitely NOT easy long run pace, but it does give me hope for the Scotiabank Half and future races. I'm wiped out today, but my legs don't ache very much. And, apart from my panic attacks, I felt good the whole time.

Lessons I learned:
1. Bring Metropass if planning a route that requires a Metropass to get home.
2. Bring phone, why not.
3. The east end is terrifying.

My City of Internships

I've been nursing a quarter-life crisis for some time now. It's the culmination of a number of factors: this city, the job market, social media constantly making me feel inadequate, and my own tendency to sweat the small and big stuff. This past week I was mulling over how best to explain my woes through words. Then, today, this article appears: Unpaid interns, working for free

The Globe gets it. And it sucks.

I opted to apply to Masters programs following undergrad, for reasons I can't even remember now. I managed to get accepted to all of the schools I applied to, which only made things worse; it was fuel for my fire, confidence for my crazy. I knew that I liked writing fiction, and that I was good at it. I didn't consider my options-- in my mind, the only option was to get my MFA.

Two years later, I have a surplus of short stories, a rough draft of a "novel", and practically no employable skills.

My biggest problem is that I don't know what I want to do. At age 25, I still don't know what I want to do. I do want to write, but "writer" isn't a real job anymore; it certainly isn't a job that pays. In the world of fiction writing, my age is a positive thing (I'm only 25!). In the real world, the one filled with jobs and expenses and debts, my age is a liability (I'm already 25).

I know what fields I'd thrive in: arts and media in broad strokes, but specifically publishing, advertising, editorial, communications. None of those fields want me as is, though, because I haven't followed the standard path. Haven't you heard about The Path?

The Path: Get a BA--> get a post-grad diploma or certificate--> take an unpaid internship (or several)--> fight to the death with thousands of other kids just like you for the same small handful of jobs.

This city has a dearth of arts-related jobs, yet it's awash in unpaid internships. As the Globe article points out, these internships don't just take advantage of students and recent graduates; they're also inherently classist.

"One of Mr. Perlin’s chief critiques of unpaid internships is they are classist. While they may be a stepping stone to gainful employment, students who cannot afford to spend a summer without pay are shut out from such opportunities."

From my perspective, I can't afford to go to a post-grad college program let alone take a string of unpaid internships. I've cleared all my debts from undergrad and grad school, but it seems like the only way I can get a stimulating job is by putting myself back into the red.


I'm 25. I'm not sure if I have enough fight left in me.  

food and bargains: better together

I saw an ad for this in Toronto Life, and even though I don't trust Telus as far as I can throw my BlackBerry (not far), it seems like a great deal. Anyone else down for some free Cuban coffee creme brulee at Delux or potato and leek salad at Woodlot? I'd kill for their cabbage rolls right now. I'd kill my cell phone for those cabbage rolls right now.