24

"But Time makes you bolder/ children get older/ I'm getting older, too"
These lyrics in Fleetwood Mac's epic song Landslide express perfectly how I feel today. I'm going to be 24 in a little over a week. I remember being little and thinking that 20 was ancient. "Children get older..." and now I'm almost ancient. 24. All I can say is, I understand why Ponce de Leon travelled half way across the globe to look for the fountain of youth. It's all wrinkles and fat deposits from here. Good god.

Cooper River Bridge Run

Yesterday was a day of triumph. I, along with over 40,000 people, competed in the annual Cooper River Bridge Run, a 10K, 6.2 mile race across Charleston. I had trained for the race, because it's pretty impossible to run for an hour without being physically fit, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. I did a practice run a week ago, and managed to finish in 60:00 minutes, a little under 10 minutes per mile. I was pretty happy, and pretty tired. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. My goal, I told myself, would be to run it in 58:00. Cutting two minutes off of a 10 K is pretty tough, so I was convinced that I'd set myself a good goal.
Yesterday was race day. I got up at 5:30 AM and crammed in a car with 5 friends. We got to the race and took in the sights and sounds. Everywhere you looked, there were people... hundreds and thousands of people. Really fit people, really unfit people, nervous people, calm people, tired people, wide-awake people... just all sorts of folks. After all, one authority claims that the Cooper River Bridge Run is the 3rd largest in the United States and the 8th largest in the world. After waiting a good while, we got to the starting line. People were separated based on how fast they claimed they could compete the race. I joined the crowd that claimed 49:00 - 60:00 minutes. Of course, I told myself, I was going to be on the tail end of that crowd.
Yesterday the race gun went off, and off with it went 30,000-40,000 people. I was one, racing alongside my best friend and running mate Anna. Initially, one could only go as fast as the crowd would let one, which wasn't very fast. Soon, Anna and I started looking for holes, and we started sprinting into every opening we found. Right off the bat, I knew I was running faster than usual, but my body was not feeling the strain, and I couldn't gage how fast. The race was eerily quiet, for being comprised of so many people. All one could hear was the thump, thump, thump of feet hitting the ground. Once on the bridge, the sounds were even more condensed. Thump, thump, thump. I paid attention to the sounds, I paid attention to the openings, I paid attention to the people around me. The only thing I did not pay attention to was myself.
Yesterday I ran the fastest race of my life. After a few miles of running, I began to notice that everyone around me was extremely fit. I was surrounded by the "serious" runners -- the people in professional gear, displaying typical "runners" bodies -- lean, strong, and focused folks. I was surprised that I fit into the group, but once I got accustomed to the idea, I was overcome by an exhilarating feeling. I just wanted to go faster. And so I ran and I ran and I ran until I saw the finish line. Then I sprinted, and passed every person in front of me that I could see.
Yesterday I ran 10 K or 6.2 miles in 54:15 seconds. I ran at a pace of 9:17 seconds per mile. I ended up in 4,957th place out of 28,641 people who finished the timed race. Out of the women, I finished in 1281st place out of 15,587. Out of the women 21-24 years old, I finished 228th out of 1919. Overall, I'm pretty darn proud of myself.
Yesterday I beat my goal by a whole 4:00 minutes, and I ran 6:00 minutes faster than I had the week before. It's a powerful feeling. Next year, I'm going for less than 54:00 minutes.

Julian Ashby Lancia

Did I not say he was the cutest thing in the world? And look at those eyes -- so smart!!

Truth

But it is true old Marx
that history is not enough
Important occasions,
man makes them.
It's a real live man who doea it, who masters it who will fight
History by itself does nothing, dear friends.
It does absolutely nothing.
Herberto Padilla (1971)

St. Patrick's in Savannah

Last weekend, I headed to Savannah in Georgia with my friend Anna. Savannah boasts one of the biggest St. Patrick's day celebrations in the country, and this year, over 40,000 people flocked to the city to participate in the shenanigans.
We got there and already we were not like most people because we didn't have to worry about where to stay, since Anna's dad has a house in the city. Not so for most people. With hotel rates skyrocketing, many decided to spend the night in their cars or not to sleep at all.
My experience was also different when we walked down to River St. and saw a morass of absolutely plastered young people wearing green, drinking green, throwing up green, and swaying side to side. Knowing what it feels like to be that drunk (and especially the next day), I decided that I would not, in fact, be intoxicating myself nearly as much as the average person. Still (or maybe, because of this) I had a lot of fun. There was enough music, men and women in kilts, and people walking around that there was no way for it not to be entertaining. It was, any way one spins it, a spectacle. The best green shirt was worn by a very dark-skinned man. It read "Kiss me, I am Irish--ish."
Before that night, we had gone to watch the big St. Patrick's day parade downtown. It lasted three hours and had all sorts of different floats. People went all out, and really represented their views. It was fun, engaging, and quite the experience.

New Light, New Life

In Italian, when a baby is born, you say that he is brought to the light. Last Friday, my brother's wife Dawn had a baby boy, my very first nephew. His name is Julian Ashby Lancia. I haven't seen pictures of him, but I can assure you with dogged ignorance that he is the most beautiful baby in the world so far.
So I'm very proud to be the auntie of baby Julian, and the whole 9-month long episode has got me thinking about my responsibilities towards those who come after us. In a way, it's strange to be 23 and thinking about your mortality and posterity, because there's still such a long way to go, one hopes. But I still want to be the best damn aunt the world has ever known, and I want to leave the world better than when I was brought to the light. Very subjective, to be sure, but a cause that is greater than wanting to be rich and famous (according to a recent survey, the stated life's goal of most people my age). And who knows, when you break down boundaries of acceptable thinking, you are left with a whole new world of possibility.

Good to Go

I have a sweatshirt from Adelphi that says "Good to Go." I got it senior year. Today, I had another LSAT prep session with the Director of the Center for Student Learning. I went to him because I had no earthly idea how to approach the logic games section on the test. He put me to the test the first day, gave me a piece of chalk and told me to read the problem and diagram it on a chalkboard. I failed miserably. It all looked like gibberish and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Today, he gave me a problem and within 5 minutes, I had solved all the questions correctly. As I left, he told me I was "Good to Go" and that I had made very good progress. Made me pretty proud.
On the other hand, I'm reading a book that one of my professors loaned me. It's called One-L and it's about a Harvard Law student's first year. It's absolutely terrifying and as I read it I can't tear myself away from it. But it's freaking me out and I don't know if this is what I want to put myself through. It just seems like a life of stress forever and ever amen. I suppose after you do anything for awhile it becomes simpler. You figure out the codes, you connect all the dots. It just seems ridiculously challenging now.