Congrats, we did it!

Here it is- not completely unheralded by the weather forecast and the season
and all the undergraduate credits we've passed so far:
But suddenly- a chilly wind as we walk across the quad, arms folded and coat collars up- and I can see it happening.

you- a spool of kite string,
unraveling before me without a knot fastened to the handle,
and a rope burn, in return, if grabbed a hold of.

me- a passenger in my head, wishing for a lot of things.

Our years of string wound round, unwind,
and the distance between us grows this cold April day.
The sun shines, but the grass is stiff and matted from its long winter blanket.
I thought graduation would feel different.

Ending the story

I'm beginning to become bored with #summitsunday. People know it's a thing now, which is nice, but I've got to admit that I had hoped for more conversation to come with it. It has become just another "hey! look-at-me blog." No one comments, which is what I had been hoping for. Comments are the best. They feel like a real conversation. Real-er. You know what I mean.

I have been super pleased with the reaction on instagram and the fact that it is a hashtag which people use. Nick suggested it become a coffee table book, and I like that idea. I will have to do some writing to sum it up, but it could be a project if I put in the work. At the outset it was something to do, then it became an identity thing, and now, I am looking forward to a new identity- an additional identity, because I won't stop being the person who climbs for fun, I just don't feel like creating that stuff anymore.

How do you transition gracefully?

Flailing Arms

First, I just read this blog: http://www.yourmusicisawful.com/2013/04/hey-kids-grow-a-pair-how-music-blogs-neutered-indie-rock/

Then I kind of agreed with him. I still like most of those bands he mentions, with the notably exception of Beach House. I don't get Beach House. But the point is, I decided to play something loud and fast and flail my arms around like I play guitar for a bit. I came up with this band: Heatmiser. Probably not a choice that the blogger would have liked, since Elliott Smith was the major product of this band, but they do rock hard on a lot of songs.

After a good pursing lips, flailing arms, and head bobbing session in front of the mirror I began to laugh at myself. I can't think of how I'd get away with so much fun if I had to live with other people or had a girlfriend. I'm feeling thankful for my tiny hobbit-hole house.

Pursuit

"There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired"

And suddenly you find yourself hungover in a hospital cafeteria, drinking their free coffee and eating their cheap corned beef and hash with scrambled eggs. There is 65 cents on the table because they only take cash, and you need to use the ATM to pay. Green and rosey grey tiles and the sickly smell of cleanliness. Charging your phone for free on an outlet by the wall.

It's good to be pursued, but I would add another to the list, Nick. There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, the tired and the timid.

Remember

Here's the first entry in my Deathly Hallows Journal. It's dated June 22nd, 2012.

Try to remember this moment, though you know you won't be able to. The lapping of the flag on the flag pole, the lapping of the waves on the shore. The newly finished wooden staircase leading out to a harbor of gently rocking boats beneath the sunset. We'll leave it at that. because its enough for one person to remember as is.
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Tired and Worried

I'm tired. It's an ache in my lower back that spreads to my soul. I feel like the most basic things take me forever today. I'm too tired to sleep. too tired to write. I feel myself compressed heavily into the futon I sit at, and here I'll remain until it's dark enough outside to lie (lay? I still don't get it) on.

I think about the future and am filled with the dread of the present. How can things change if I don't change them now. I have several thoughts going through my head at the moment. Can I ski faster, is it worth it to go for it? How am I going to make enough money to pay off my tens-of-thousands of dollars of student loan/ car payment debt? Do I want to become a better writer or a better musician? Do I even have time for either if I'm going to keep skiing? What about graduate school, have you lost hope for that?

Maybe I'm just hungry. Where's the food? Oh wait, I can't afford it.

(if she reads this) I'm okay, mom. Don't worry. I'm sorry if I make you worry. I'm happy. Really, I am. I feel bad that I make you worried sometimes. I just want to be independent and stop being your burden. We're even, okay?

-Stavó

Sequestration frustration

This is the reason my Facebook political views section says "would like to live in a remote fishing village someday." I'm becoming a giant squid of anger.

making yourself nervous.

Do you ever get nervous with your dreams? Like when setting a goal that is a bit out of reach, how it might actually prove that you couldn't do it after-all. Just reaffirming those worries, and proving once and for all that you were a failure. God, this wasn't supposed to be one of those "I'm afraid to fail" things, but it seems to be turning into one those, doesn't it. I want Nevada to bring back their NCAA ski team, and I want to coach it. I think about it, and I start brain storming how I'd recruit and how I'd be at running practices. Would the athletes respect me as a coach? Would I have what it takes? I think it'd be a reach, but a part of me thinks I could really do it.

I also get a bit overwhelmed by the thought of starting. How do I go about contacting the booster's organization to get involved? Do they even exist anymore? That's a start. Where's the alumni association for the ski team boosters. We should have a newsletter that people subscribe to which keeps them up to date on the happenings at the club. I could write it.

just wait a second

This blog isn't dead yet.

What to write for my status

If I don't contribute to the online conversation, do you forget me? I don't find facebook interesting anymore, apart from the voyerism of enjoying other people's interaction. I want to be better at the internet, and find it a fulfilling place, but you cannot use it as a substitute. It has got to be a complement (with an E) with real world interactions that already make you happy, and will therefore make others who care for you happy. Is social media just the place we go when we have a thought but don't know who to tell it to? I don't think so. It reminds me of my "Be Brave. Live." post in which I talked about letting your thoughts be witnessed. #MLIA

That wasn't supposed to sound as vague as it did. I honestly thought "who cares if I post 'having fun isn't hard if you've got a library card"' "am I just searching for likes?" the last time I wanted to post a facebook status. Is this what it means to be an adult: to doubt? I believe I have stepped outside of "bear nature" (bonus points if you get that His Dark Materials reference.

For Big Chuck

I will remember, before I ever even met you, moving into the dorms and seeing your black Salomon nordic boots already sitting in the closet. I don't think you knew how good it felt- for a shy boy 500 miles from home- to see that, and to know that he had an instant friend for a roommate. Thank you for being my friend.

Rip Chord Relays with Charlie as my Partner

Charlie and I skiing in Aspen

ASC Sprints

The day is done. I woke up early this morning to drive down to Truckee and then up to the summit for the auburn ski club sprints. I usually really like this race because it's fun and short and sunny, but today was not that fun. Today was a super stormy race, probably the stormiest I've ever raced in. I ended up racing on my zeros because I didn't want to bother testing wax, which isn't really a very professional thing to do, but whatever; I'm semi-pro. They were slow, but it was more my fault for not training well enough this summer, and not making the effort to race wax my skis. I ended up 13th and getting beat by many of the young juniors.

I'm wondering whether I want to make the journey up there again tomorrow if it's going to be snowing like it was today. I know I'll do better in a 10k race, but it's gotta be fun too.

I think the rest of the day I'll try to do some reading, writing and laundry.

-Gus

Rejection

I went through a lot of these feels when I didn't get into grad school at UAA, but it works with almost all the fear, and emotions we experience, when we get rejected or anxious about rejection.

The parts I really liked were: "The force of that regret cannot be applied to the past, only to the future, when you'll do it better next time", his distillation of the phrase "it was meant to be" to "it is", and the assertion that rejection is kind of awesome because it means you're trying.

He asks for advice for people dealing with rejection. I would strongly urge them to read the Art of Fielding (which I love to death) and pay close attention to Mike Schwartz.

Be Brave. Live.
-Gus

That up close kind of ache

The following are lyrics from The Monsters of Folk's "Map of the World":
Put the razor to your face/ hot water for a shave/ kill the shadow of yesterday.
Clean shirts, clean pants, clean slate, second chance/ you're going by another name.

I loved this song from the moment I heard it. It captures existential worries and feelings of stagnation so well. Not that I'm feeling those things at this moment, but whenever I do, this song is a comfort to me. I was shaving today and thinking about the lyrics to that song, so I decided to blog about it.

I heard once that people struggling with depression, self-esteem issues, or those going through some sort of trauma often try to exert some control over the world around them (which-in these instances- seems like the world is spiraling in a widening gyre). I notice that whenever I'm feeling that way I try to make a change to bring about that clean slate. It usually takes the form of controlling my appearance, i.e. shaving, not shaving, or getting a haircut.

Maybe that up close kind of ache he's talking about in the song is razor burn ;)

River Folk

Today we had some heavy rain. It wasn't your typical passing thunderstorm, which comes suddenly with a violent surge, but then passes on; leaving defeated-looking clouds and a hint of sunshine. We we've been under a slow siege it seems. It started with wind two days ago, and a gradual moistening, but yesterday we began to get rain. Today has been a constant near-freezing soak, which I think is in line with the siege analogy. From the looks of the weather report we may be in for a couple more days of cold rain, with snow appearing on the tail end of it all.

I needed to turn in some paperwork at the district office for ski coaching at the high school. Driven by necessity, I braved the drive down Highway 89 from Tahoe City to Truckee today despite the rain. Shortly after passing Squaw Valley I found myself being a distracted driver, constantly craning my neck to get a look as what the river was doing. I eventually pulled over to stand in the downpour and just watch. It made me pretty happy. It reminded me of a blog post I read a nearly 3 years ago by a friend, and "river family" member, who was equally enthralled by running water while volunteering in the Peace Corps in South Africa.

The Swollen Truckee

I have driven past this stretch of river dozens of times, if not hundreds, but it took the rain-swollen runoff today to make me appreciate it again. In my list of gratitudes this past Thanksgiving, rivers were not among the items. I'm adding them now.

Below are some pictures from the source at Lake Tahoe. While walking across the dam today, I learned that The Lake Tahoe Dam creates a reservoir 6.1 feet above the natural rim (the point at which the lake no longer empties into the Truckee river), creating an additional 744,000 acre feet of water to supply the Truckee Meadows Watershed. By regulation, the dam is required to supply at least a measly 50 cfs from October to March, and a meager 70 cfs from March to October.

Looking at the USGS data from today, The dam at Tahoe City was releasing 56 cfs and 20 miles downstream, in Truckee, they were reading 1,600 cfs. That was some rain we got today, folks.

Motivated

I'd like to start out with a congratulation to Karsten Hokanson, one of my two followers on this blog, for an awesome race yesterday at the season opener Supertour in West Yellowstone. He raced real fast, and it's obvious that all the hard work is paying off. Congrats to all of the Wasatch Nordic Academy, in fact.

Looking at the results from yesterday has gotten me super motivated. I know it's a little late in the game to be stoked on skiing and getting fast, but my goals are different than they used to be. I am no longer looking to be as fast as I once dreamed of being. Mostly, I just want to be the fast coach who still gives his athletes a run for their money.

Yesterday, riding the wave of motivation from staring endlessly at results lists, was the first day I had run in about 2.5 weeks. It's still very uncomfortable to run on my knee, and I had some swelling in it afterward, but I figure it will be good to give it a little stress to help in the recovery. I only ran for 40mins yesterday and did an additional  20mins before breakfast this morning. I'm going to try to consistently do a morning jog to help strengthen it. Plus I want to get in some secret training :)

Again, Congrats to Karsten and the crew. you guys rock.

-Gus

Thanksgiving

My ride today was so so so much fun, and it made me so happy. It's easy to forget how it feels to do something active, and how happy being active makes you. Now it's time for some great Fall food.

In all seriousness

On to some lighter things. I want to share some of the things I've been loving lately.

Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Sherlock
Hankgames

Thanks,

G-unit

Be Brave. Live.

I told you I loved you in a thrift store, and you didn't take it so well back then. You paused, didn't respond, and told me on the car ride back that you had to think about it, that it wasn't really the best time or place. Then things got bad, and we fought a lot. You, making me sad. And me, making you angry and hurt that you had to, couldn't help but, make me sad.  And eventually we made a deal to be friends; even shook on it by the railroad tracks. Put it there, pal. Friends. Which is what we were before, actually. And then, a few weeks later, when you were drunk and sitting next to me on a sidewalk, you told me you loved me too. And we walked back to my place, stopping traffic on the way to make out in the intersection.

Then it was long distance and we didn't want to do "this" anymore. And secretly I was relieved because this relationship was hardly ever public. We were both hiding it in case it didn't work out. But we were always volatile, secretive, and tenuous in the best of circumstances, you and me.

After all this time I want to say that I'm still glad I said it, even amid the second-hand jeans and cheap DVDs, because it was pretty brave to love you.

---

What it's like to be cheated on:
Well first of all, it sucks. like totally sucks. like, really, totally, sucks.
Then you feel stupid and worthless for not knowing, and knowing all along, and wishing that there was something you could've done. Knowing how stupid it is to think that thought, but thinking it all the same. feeling the blame.

And then, like Emily Dickinson said, "after great pain a formal feeling comes" and you simply distance yourself from it. Like the distance you feel in meeting a stranger, saying, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Collins."

---

Both of those things are stories. Just that: stories; short snapshots of a situation. I've posted them in an effort to just be honest with "who I am" as a person who writes. So, even though they came out of my head, I don't want people prying into it too far to find the innermost secrets of my psyche. I'm way more than a couple sad-sack blog posts, and I hope that you know that. I just heard an interview with Ben Gibbard on NPR's World Cafe in which he talked about from where his best writing comes. He hinted that even when your topic is dark, sad, or personal it doesn't mean that you are a dark, sad, or deeply secretive person. He finds separation from it when he writes. I like that. He phrased it in terms of being "up" and "down", but it spoke to me more in terms of authorial control, and this is part of the reason I posted those entries.

The other reason is that I've been struggling to publish stuff recently, even before I was inspired to write this blog by Charlie McDonnel. Take Facebook for instance. I've become increasingly worried about who will see posts, and if they'll like it. I'm worried that the relationships I have will be changed because I post something political, or that I'm sharing too much. I'm worried it's annoying those that I respect. This feeling is part of a want to be able to control your perception of me through the things I share. It's terrifying to put things -and your self- out there for the fear that you will judge me. I know how cliche that sounds, but it's true, and that's why it became a cliche in the first place. It once had truth and was powerful enough to become disseminated to the point of exhaustion.

Also, I don't want any of the "be yourself" bullshit that people always offer in situations like this. Because who the hell am I, anyway? I don't know. I've been making it all up as I go. I think we all do.

It's possible the solution, and a better way to go about this situation, is with the "fuck it" mentality. Please excuse the vulgarity, but if I'm worried about posting a pro-Obama facebook status, writing something sad, loving somebody who might not love me back-- well, fuck it.

But that mentality doesn't take into account the real impacts of audience. Putting the self you're creating out there for other people changes things in a real and tangible way. You no longer have control over how it's going to be perceived, which is both unfair and a reality we have to deal with. I have plenty of friends whom I love and respect whom I don't want to upset, or have think less of me because of carelessness in their construction of me. I know that I struggle with it too, but it's hard to give people the complexity that you garner for yourself. It's hard to imagine other people's feelings as as real and immediate as your own because we don't get to experience everything they experience. When I interact with someone, whether it's on the internet, phone, or in person, I'm allowing them to create their own version of me inside their heads, largely without my permission. And what if they get it wrong, misconstrue it? It worries me and I try to manipulate the way in which they see me in order to reflect the way I want to be seen. Does that make me manipulative or sensitive to other people's perceptions.

In trying to grapple with this issue of the right balance between reservation and expression, I'm finding it hard not to speak in cliches: "we all feel this", "we all do that", but I think I may have stumbled upon a few truths which I'm trying to adopt now. And out of it I've found a new mantra: Be Brave. Live. It's premised on the fact that we feel lonely inside our heads, but are scared to let our thoughts be witnessed. The way I see it, being scared is far preferable to being lonely. You can grow comfortable being scared, but loneliness will continue to gnaw at you until there isn't much left to share.

So, that's my advice.
Be brave. Live. It is preferable to be scared and do it anyway, than to be confined to the loneliness of creating for no-one. Don't be like Emily, whom I quoted earlier, and whom created only for herself, but by some lucky chance of ours we got to witness it anyway. Create your self , and for yourself, but share it.

This has been a response to Charlieissocoollike, Hank Green, Ze Frank, and Micheal Aranda: