“I can get by with a little help from my friends”

I mentioned back in December that I was training for a triathlon. I didn’t really know what that meant yet. Now that it’s just over a week away, I’m pretty sure I know what the “training” part means – and goodness, I really had no idea what I was in for.

I’ve always been a solo runner. I don’t like running with other people, mainly because I’m slow and I hate slowing anyone else down. I also relish the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts and totally in tune with whatever my body is telling me to do (or not do). I don’t mind riding my bike alone, although that is generally more fun with a partner or two. Team sports are different – it’s really hard to play soccer 1 v 5.

Point is, when I started doing this training, I started like I always start training for stuff – by myself. I signed up by myself, I laid out a path by myself, and then realized I was failing by myself. If you’re reading this, you probably know me. If you know me, you probably know I can be a bit…um…stubborn. I like to think of it as independent, but it can be to a fault. This post isn’t really about training for a triathlon, per se. It’s about what happened along the way.

I had help in the beginning from a good friend well-versed in triathlons to set up a training plan that would actually get me to race day in one piece. That was great, but said friend lives more than 1500 miles away and wasn’t going to be there to give me pep talks when I hated all the things. Not that I didn’t call her on a semi-regular basis and tell her far more than she ever wanted to know about whatever trial or triumph I’d had that day. Sorry about that.

Training went fine, for the most part. I had good days and bad, just like any other training for a race. But in early April, with about six weeks to go, mental breakdown mode started to set in. I wasn’t where I wanted to be – but where did I want to be? I’d never really set a goal other than to finish, so presumably I was right where I wanted to be, it just didn’t feel right. I got cranky. I cried. I made lots of phone calls and sent lots of text messages to the friends I knew might be sympathetic to my plight, but I’d already made the biggest mistake – I didn’t let anyone in before that point.

I don’t generally let people in easily. Just like running, I tend to do a lot of stuff on my own. It’s great to have company, but I’m still going to do the things I need or want to do whether someone is going to go with me or not. Having not been in a relationship in a while, I’ve gotten so used to just doing things on my own that it never occurred to me that I might need someone around for when things like this set in. I don’t need anyone’s help, so why would I ask for it? I got this. I’m good.

By the time everything seemed to be heading south, I hadn’t really told anyone the direction I was headed, so it took most of them by surprise. But there I was, with work being busy, my graduate class wrapping up (and therefore having lots of end-of-semester work to get done), a band concert nearing – everything was coming to a head at the same time, and I didn’t feel like I was doing any of it as well as I could. I didn’t have time to train the way I wanted to, and it became a source of frustration. I started feeling like nothing I did was going to matter and I wasn’t going to be ready, even though I actually still had a lot of time. One night I actually woke up from a nightmare that I took so long to finish I was the only one left on the course, but when I got to the finish line, there were my friends, cheering for me like they hadn’t waited seven hours for me to finish. (Yeah – that’s right. Seven. It really was a nightmare.)

So, I sucked it up and let a few people in on how I was feeling. Mainly it was the same people that had helped me at the very beginning with training in some way so I didn’t have to start from scratch, but man did it feel like I was piling on them. This was my decision to do this race, why on earth would I burden someone else with my stress about it? It’s not like a million people haven’t already trained for triathlons and lived to tell the story. But I had to or I was going to keep feeling awful. I finally understood why people join training groups – it’s not all about the physical training, it’s about a support system of people who know what you’re talking about when you say you had a bad day. You learn from them, they learn from you. 

After I finally admitted to myself (and others) that I needed some pep talks if I was going to make it through race day, things have felt better. I feel strong, and my fantastic friends have been crucial in certain pieces of the puzzle coming together (who knew finding somewhere for an open water swim was going to be so difficult before Memorial Day?). I can’t thank them enough for the mental and physical strength they’ve helped me find over the past few weeks. I knew training for a triathlon wasn’t going to be easy physically – I never anticipated the emotions that would come along with it.

I have some truly great people in my life, some I’ve known for years and others I’ve met in the past six months. It’s been been an incredible journey of self-discovery, discipline, and the art of just letting things go. Pretty dramatic for someone who is just training for a silly triathlon, eh? I know. But I’ve come out of this (the next eight days notwithstanding) with a deeper appreciation for friendship, companionship, and the importance of actually letting people in. I don’t need to do everything by myself. It’s okay to need help sometimes – and who doesn’t like to feel needed by the people they love and respect every so often?

So, I want to say thank you. To everyone who provided an encouraging word, sent a text, or even just liked a photo or status somewhere. To everyone who swam or ran or biked with me, who encouraged me to keep going without fully understanding how important it was at the time, who asked for updates on how things were going along the way. No one gets there completely by them self, no matter how hard they want to – present company begrudgingly included.

KC Street Grid Shirts

3/29 update: Miss out on the original order? Get yours here! http://lacucarachapress.bigcartel.com/product/kansas-city-street-grid-t-shirt

3/9 update: Form is closed for orders – pay your invoices!

3/8 update: Today is the last day to order! The form will stop taking replies around midnight tonight. Please pay the PayPal invoice when you receive it – this order is huge and requires a deposit, don’t leave me hanging!

I’ve tried to post info a few places on this, but I needed to be able to put it all in one place, so here it is!

I wanted to buy a tshirt with the Kansas City street grid on it. I searched for one and couldn’t find one, so I decided I was going to make one myself. I told a few people and they seemed interested in one as well, so I decided why not make a whole bunch and let people order them too? And here we are.

Two options: blue with white ink or grey with black ink – like so:

These will be on high-quality 100% ringspun cotton tees (Alternative Apparel), and the price will be $15/tee. I will leave the pre-order form open until Friday, March 8th, so if you know someone you think might be interested, send it to them quickly! If you’ve already ordered before both color options were available, never fear – I’ll be in touch soon regarding which option you’d prefer.

Here’s a link to the form: [order period closed]

Order away!

Edited to add: The lovely gents over at La Cucaracha Press are making these for me, and have so far been fantastic to work with!

“everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.”

As I write this, I am in the process of losing my grandmother. She was made hospice a few weeks ago, and my understanding is that we’re looking at the next 24 hours or so. On one hand, no one ever wishes for someone to pass away. On the other hand, everyone does eventually and her quality of life hasn’t been stellar lately. The best I can hope for at this point is that she passes peacefully and is no longer suffering.

She’s my last remaining grandparent, my paternal grandmother. My paternal grandfather died a few years ago after a battle with Alzheimer’s. My maternal grandfather died before I was born, and my maternal grandmother died when I was very young, so I never got to know them. Even then, my dad’s parents always lived in Florida or California while I was growing up in Michigan, and they moved back to Michigan about six months after I moved to Kansas City. Some timing, huh? My point is that I never really had the “go to grandma’s and bake cookies and spend the night” experience that many kids have, but I still felt strongly attached to my dad’s parents as we visited them regularly and they came to Michigan when their health still allowed such travel. My grandmother and I even exchanged handwritten (and sometimes typewritten) letters for a long period during elementary school and I still have all of those letters saved in an envelope. We found our ways despite the distance.

There’s something about losing your last grandparent, though. It’s different. Now my parents’ generation is the oldest remaining generation of their families. It makes their mortality into a clearer reality. One day, I’ll have to go through what they’re going through right now – watching my parents, the people who raised me, decline into failing health and at some point succumb to it. We’re all getting older, it’s bound to happen, but something about losing your last grandparent makes all of that a lot more real.

Have I always gotten along with my parents? Of course not, and if you say you have, you’re either lying to me or to yourself. But it’s all too easy to let things linger and hold grudges until it’s too late. This holds true with any relationship, not just parental. My grandmother has been in somewhat declining health for some time, but you don’t always see it coming.  The older I get, the more I am able to realize and appreciate the things my parents did for me, much of which was not immediately apparent as a kid. I’ve tried as an adult to recognize and thank my parents for those things they did for me growing up that I either took for granted or downright hated at the time. I fully acknowledge at this point that the life I am leading now would not be possible were it not for the support (in many ways) that my parents have given me. I haven’t always gotten along with my siblings, either, but now that we’re all adults, I easily recognize that my sisters are smart, funny, and great to hang out with (most of the time ).

Having moved to Kansas City by myself, and living down here with no family close by, I rely a lot on my friends to be my local family. I say with full confidence that I have somehow managed to surround myself with some of the smartest, most creative, most beautiful and most supportive friends a person could ask for. My long-distance friendships all over the country from home, college or the various places I’ve traveled are just as important. Sometimes you just need to talk to someone who has known you longer and knows your back story. Truly, I feel like I have won the friend lottery with all of you. Maybe that’s why I like hosting parties so often – it’s my small way of showing appreciation to all of you who make my life so rich in so many ways.

Now is the time to appreciate those relationships, not after it’s too late to do or say anything. Tell your friends and your families how much they mean to you. Show them how important they are while they can still understand it – you never know how many more times you’ll have the opportunity.

Update: 8:51pm 2/18/13 – My grandmother passed away peacefully a short time ago. Go tell someone you love them.

the automobile: the original individual mandate?

Ever since the Affordable Care Act was passed, there have been people fighting to repeal it, arguing that it will raise the cost of pizza, and the “individual mandate” made it all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court (and survived). The Individual Mandate was a controversial piece of the legislation, in short requiring that everyone carry health insurance or pay a fine for not doing so.

I was thinking about a trip I’m making to Wichita later this month and how my options are limited on how to get there. How it seemed like government policy over the years, starting with the “greatest public works project in history,” the Interstate System, is considered one of government’s greatest accomplishments, but how it has ended up reducing funding available for other forms of transportation, thus requiring Americans to own cars to make it from place to place even within their own city boundaries.

And it makes me wonder.

Is the automobile the original “individual mandate”?

Prior to the rise of the automobile, streetcar systems existed, municipal buses ran frequently, and pedestrians and bicycles were accepted and expected on streets. Once the car began taking over, the streets became less hospitable to non-motorized transportation and the cries of public transit not funding itself often drown out those that understand that the highways also don’t pay for themselves.

So where does that leave someone who doesn’t want to own a car, especially in a place outside the five boroughs or downtown Chicago?

Seemingly rather short of luck.

The average American way of life has evolved to a point where it is nearly necessary for a person who wants to be able to travel between destinations on a schedule to own their own vehicle. The Interstate System has made it easier to travel between cities on an individual basis, and the popularity of cars (among other things) ate away at the availability of passenger rail service.  Intercity buses don’t run nearly as often. Federal funding has long supported the roads-and-highways approach over a more holistic view of transportation that considers the movement of goods and people, not just the movement of vehicles.

Public transit is making a comeback in a lot of places, and the generational differences in many realms are beginning to show as Millenials enter the workforce and property-buying market in higher numbers, but it is still incredibly difficult to exist in many places without a car. I couldn’t make it to my soccer games, dance classes, or graduate classes using mass transit right now, and I live in the middle of the city. This also speaks to the sprawling development that has taken place, and without requisite density, transit just doesn’t make sense. All of this piles on to make an automobile a must-own for residents of most places. The “fine” in this case is either the increase in the amount of time spent traveling between destinations because of limited transit service, or the cost of ownership of a vehicle (which, when examined, really is staggering).

So, has policy over the years essentially made the automobile an unofficial “individual mandate”? Maybe with a little more active transportation, we wouldn’t need quite so much health care in the first place.

an inch deep and a mile wide

I’ve never been that good at anything.

Maybe that’s not quite fair. I’ve been okay at a lot of things, but I’ve never been really super amazing good at anything. I got good but not great grades in high school and college. I was a pretty good dancer, but not good enough to make a living doing it. I sang in choir, but no one is lining up to sign me to a label. I’m a lot better at knowing what I’m supposed to do on a soccer field than actually doing it. I go for runs, but I’m not fast and if I saw myself running down the road, I’d probably take pity. I still play clarinet, but even in my community band the talent of some of the other players amazes me. I write in this blog, but it hasn’t elicited any offers of employment in the field. (Not yet, anyway).

I know a lot of people who are really super awesome at what they do. I cringe at the phrase “creative types” being restricted to traditional arts as I pretty strongly believe that creativity is required in just about every type of profession in some form or another. That said, it takes a lot of passion and patience to go all in on an art as your profession. Clearly, I haven’t done that either, and frankly, I’m not really good enough at anything to go all in on it. I’ll stick to enjoying and supporting the creativity of those who have decided and managed to do that and keep dabbling in whatever strikes my fancy at the moment. If anyone manages to find a glass-blowing class in KC, please let me know because I have been searching high and low and NO ONE SEEMS TO WANT TO TEACH ME HOW TO BLOW GLASS.

What’s the point of this? I recently started at a Crossfit gym and it’s making all of these thoughts bubble up again. I only go twice a week, so I’m clearly not as “hard core” as a lot of the people you see in the photos or the Crossfit Games. Does that make me less of a Crossfitter? I’m training for a triathlon, but it’s not an Ironman, so does that make me less of a triathlete? I run, but I don’t have an interest in anything longer than a half marathon, so does that make me less of a runner? I’m working on an MPA, but don’t have a desire to be a City Manager, so does that make me less of a public administrator? I have an engineering degree, but am not on any kind of track to ever get my PE, so does that make me less of an engineer? I have an atmospheric science degree, but no longer forecast the weather for a living, so does that make me less of a meteorologist?

It’s really easy to get down a rabbit hole when you’re surrounded by amazing people who have a more singular focus on something at which they excel. For me, it also means that I have a tendency to feel like I don’t quite fit with a lot of groups. I hosted a going away party for a friend who played for the symphony a couple years ago, and some of the most talented musicians and artists in KC were present – and I felt so out of my league, I relied on some liquid courage to make it through the night.

In a recent conversation with a friend who moved from East Coast to West Coast a couple years ago and is still struggling to find a niche, we talked about my blog post on my move to KC and how he appreciated and understood the ideas in it.  I had plenty of time to reflect on that conversation since it took place in the middle of a multi-hour delay at the airport on my way back to KC after holiday travels and realized what had changed for me since I moved to KC.

It isn’t the activities I’m interested in, or the type of people I like to hang out with. It isn’t my profession or goals, though those have changed along with it.

It’s confidence.

Confidence in knowing that what I’m doing is what I want to be doing.  Confidence in my ability to be just as happy running slow, having the lowest weight total in a Crossfit class, missing the goal wide right during a soccer game and not sight-reading each piece of music in band right the first time. I’ve finally learned to not compare myself to what others are achieving and focus on my own self-improvement and enjoying the activities. I took an intro fencing class about a year ago and was out of town for the last class, so I made it up in a mid-level class with people who competed in the sport. While I’d like to say I held my own, for the most part they kicked my ass. A few years ago, that might have discouraged me to the point of never wanting to do it again – instead, it just inspired me to work harder because it showed me where I could head with more practice. I enjoy the activities I do more, I appreciate the people I’m doing them with more, and most importantly, it has allowed me to celebrate others’ accomplishments without feeling bad about not being able to do it myself. 1:30 half marathon? Strong work, friend! Grab a bottle of water and kick your feet up while I plod my way to the finish. Your work was selected to be in a show at a gallery space? Amazing! When’s the opening and when can I buy you a drink? It just feels so much better this way.

It may sound like I’ve just accepted defeat in not excelling at anything myself. Actually, it’s meant that I appreciate my own achievements more than I ever used to. I love playing soccer when I’m not worried about the fact that I’m probably going to screw up several times over the course of a game. Going for a run is much more satisfying now that I don’t beat myself up when I have to slow down or walk for a bit. And yes, I will look like an idiot when I try to do a handstand pushup, but at least I’m trying!

And if you’re still reading at this point, maybe that offer for a freelance writing gig will make its way to me any day now.

“Live daringly, boldly, fearlessly. Taste the relish to be found in competition – in having put forth the best within you.” (Henry J. Kaiser)

“If we must say something, let’s at least only say true things.”

This morning, Kansas City Chiefs linebacker Jovan Belcher shot and killed his girlfriend and mother of their three month old child, and then turned the gun on himself at the Chiefs practice facility. As one would expect, speculation and judgement blew up on traditional and social media. The reasons behind what happened may never be known. I’m not going to join in on that conversation in this post. What happened is a terrible situation and will affect many people for years to come, some for the rest of their lives.

We lost Don Harman and John McClure around this time last year. The families of both men used the tragedies as a way to shed light on what tends to be a rather taboo topic to discuss openly, and KCUR devoted an episode of Up to Date to it.  As most people know, the holidays can be a particularly stressful time of year, but what if we could help sooner? I’m in no way suggesting that every suicide is preventable or equating these three events to one another, but there are certainly things we can all do to acknowledge the importance of mental health in each one separately.

So, why do I care so much about this? After all, I didn’t know Belcher, nor did I know Don or John well, though I’d met both and have friends who were very close to both of them. I care because when public figures battle issues like depression or addiction, the community reacts.  People generally feel as if they actually do know those in the public eye. It makes us reflect on our own lives, the people we know, the situations we’ve encountered. Like other traumatic public events, it can bring us together.  If there was one thing about the reactions this morning that disappointed me, it was those discouraging open communication and discussion on the basis of it being disrespectful to talk about it. Judging, drawing your own conclusions about reasons, being a jerk (some people were actually speculating on the impact it would have on their fantasy leagues) – sure, those things are disrespectful. Talking openly and honestly about a situation, trying to understand it and how you identify with it- that’s human nature. Reaching out to those around you to do it is a coping mechanism. Discouraging those conversations is continuing this notion that talking about problems is showing weakness and should be avoided – wrong, wrong, wrong.

My sister majored in psychology in college and has worked as a case worker in a homeless shelter and currently does intake at a drug and alcohol addiction and rehabilitation center. She’s seen what people are dealing with when they walk through those doors, so I asked her to recommend some resources. No, she’s not a trained psychologist, but neither are most of us. Sometimes we are silently or passively called on as friends, relatives or coworkers to recognize issues before they get too far and to try to find ways to help. It seems there are really two parts to this – seeing the warning signs, but also dealing with the aftermath. These events can be traumatic and everyone reacts differently, sometimes in ways they couldn’t have anticipated.  One interesting organization she pointed me toward was Mental Health First Aid, a “train the trainer” type organization that “…helps the public identify, understand, and respond to signs of mental illnesses and substance use disorders.” But again, not everything is preventable. The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) has a number of resources describing what to expect after a traumatic event occurs and how to cope, whether it’s from the perspective of a family, a child, a school-based event or just generally for adults. These are mainly resources for how to deal as the friend or family member of someone dealing with demons. If you’re the one dealing with them yourself, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is one place to start. This list is most certainly not exhaustive, but good resources for learning more about mental health in general.

Some might argue that I’m in no way qualified to have recommended any of the above. To that I say, you’re probably right. I’m not trained in any of it, but learning as much as I can about these issues is my own personal coping mechanism and has been for a long time. It helps me better understand the world around me and the impacts these events have on everyone they manage to tangle in their webs. If I can help even one other person by putting them out there, it’s worth it. If I can spur even one conversation about mental health and its importance and heavy stigmatization in society, it’s worth it.

“If we must say something, let’s at least only say true things.” (Zadie Smith on David Foster Wallace, who we also lost to suicide)

(not so) alone in kc?

An article in The Pitch just got passed around my social circles like wildfire (Can’t a guy just make some friends around here? Maybe., 11/6/12) and as someone who moved to Kansas City as an adult with no partner coming along, no acquaintances and no connections to the city, I feel compelled to respond.  Everyone’s experience is different – but this guy’s experience is by no means the rule, and may even be the exception.  Instead of going point-by-point refuting the article (his experience was what it was, why bother?), I’ll just write my own.

I moved to Kansas City from the Detroit area in January 2007.  I got a job at a local TV station and had roughly 4 weeks to find a place, move and start work.  The weekend I came down with my dad to look for a place, there was a giant ice storm – I ended up getting to see approximately 3 apartments and rented a tiny one-bedroom in Merriam, KS.  I knew no one here, no one I knew knew anyone here, and I was moving by myself.  To say it was a rough period is an understatement,  but technology made it possible to stay in touch with friends and make the transition easier.

That said – you have to make friends.  Working nightside in TV meant I was working during all the hours when normal people go on dates, go to happy hour and generally hang out anywhere.  I met a lot of great people at the TV station, though, who understood my hours and the stresses of the business, which was nice.  I also got a retail job at Oak Park Mall a few mornings a week, where I met some great people who I never saw outside of the mall, but felt like part of something when we’d put out new displays all bleary-eyed at 8am.  I tried to meet people through some early-morning workout classes at the community center, but finally had to admit to myself that I didn’t want to meet anyone at 5:30am.

A year and a half later, I moved on from the TV station to a new job with normal hours and went a little nuts joining things. Over time, I’ve picked up a lot of activities – pickup soccer, teaching dance, playing in a community band, a serving job, started grad school, Sporting KC season tickets, went to library lectures, started both running and volunteering at runs, did a few bike races, and a number of other things that I dipped my toe in but never stuck.  But through all these things, I’ve met a huge number of people who were all passionate about something – there’s a lot of passion in KC.  It’s incredible to know people from so many walks of life from the various activities, and to meet people, all you have to do is show up.

I guess that’s the key – you have to show up.  I wasn’t invited to do 90% of the things I mentioned above.  I looked at community calendars, found things that sounded interesting and just did them.  Sometimes you go and don’t meet anyone – it happens.  But the only way to meet anyone is to put yourself in a position to do so.

Another thing – I used to think the social scene in Kansas City was tiny.  Turns out, the entire world is a tiny place.  I’ve met people here who know friends of mine from high school in Michigan through mutual friends in New York.  I’ve shown up to a work event only to find out that another attendee is a friend from pickup soccer.  I’ve blindly joined a community band only to find that a handful of the members are former coworkers from that retail job at Oak Park Mall from several years earlier.  The random connections are everywhere, and the quirky conversations that happen because of them can only take place if you put yourself out there and make an effort.

I’m still a relative newbie in Kansas City; I didn’t grow up here, I didn’t go to college anywhere close and I have no family connection to the city.  Like any city, you have to find a niche and start there – I’ve met some of my favorite people in this city through cold calling a modern dance company and asking if I could start a tap ensemble in their studio space, or creating facebook/twitter accounts for the weekly soccer kickarounds and inviting whoever managed to stumble across the pages to come play.  If you’re not interested in anything, nothing you do will make people magically show up on your doorstep and ask if you want to go grab a drink.  This is not unique to Kansas City – try that crap in Chicago or New York and you won’t get any farther.

I’m pretty happy with how things have turned out.  After a somewhat rocky start, the city has embraced me and I’ve given it a big old hug right back.  Let’s not blame Kansas City for not making friends – it’s not her fault.  And if you’re truly feeling like the gentleman who wrote the article,  find me at @angraor on twitter and we’ll go grab a drink.