Among the Stacks

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A photo of me from 10 years ago, when I still enjoyed the simple pleasures of browsing the bookshelves.

I’m such a library nerd. I have been since I was a kid, and every almost trip to the library resulted in me walking out with a stack of books in my arms, eager to go home and dive in.

One of my favorite activities used to be perusing the stacks to find a book (or several) to read. Sometimes I knew exactly what I wanted and sometimes not. I actually thought it was more fun when I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I would inevitably leave the library with a book I’d never heard of and an author I’d never read. The library is full of undiscovered treasures.

Even as an academic, I loved going into the dark, neglected recesses of the university library to look for dusty tomes that hadn’t been touched in years. (When you study some fairly obscure old texts, you have to dig deep to find what you’re looking for.)

I’d forgotten.

Everything went digital, and I forgot the pleasures of browsing at the library. Life no longer affords me much time to spend at the library, so I peruse titles on the library website instead. Oh, that digital book is available right now? Sure! It looks good! Download to Kindle.

That’s been my primary way of reading for some time now. No trips to the library necessary.

And the major difference with grad school now, as opposed to my last journey through academia, is that everything I need is online. I don’t need to drive to campus. I don’t need to visit the library. Everything is quick and accessible on my computer. (I’m still getting used to digital textbooks. There was something so satisfying about marking up a textbook, but now it’s all nice and neat.)

Yesterday, I had to stop at the library to return a DVD. But I found myself with some unexpected free time, and I had just finished a book on my Kindle. Why not, for old time’s sake, browse the library shelves and pick out something to read?

Suddenly, I remembered how great that visual and tactile experience was. I only knew I was looking for something on the shorter side. I have so little time to read for pleasure nowadays, I can’t deal with an excessively long novel.

To pull a book off the shelf, read the cover, leaf through the pages, and decide if I want to take it home with me? I forgot how wonderful that is. Doing it online is not nearly as fun, nor does it engage your senses nearly as much.

Ultimately, I chose Rutherford Park by Elizabeth Cooke – a book I never heard of, but it was compared to Downton Abbey, so I could hardly resist.

It’ll be nice to rest my eyes a bit by looking at an actual paper book instead of an electronic device. I spend so many of my waking hours staring at some kind of screen.

And now I must make a point of visiting the library more often. It’s one thing to be a frequent patron, but you can do that without ever stepping foot inside the building. It’s a whole different experience to go in and take the time to really browse and see what the library has to offer.

Grad student.

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That is part of my identity now, and I’m still trying to wrap my brain around it. After one attempt at a master’s degree from 2001-2003 that didn’t end well, I’ve spent far too much time thinking about a do-over. Not in English, as I originally attempted, but in something else. One time, I was considering library science. Another time, it was instructional design. Then law (but only because I earned a paralegal certificate).

Thankfully, I kept putting it off. Maybe I wasn’t ready, despite feeling like it was unfinished business I needed to attend to. It never felt like the right time.

Early in June, I was at a banquet for the OSU Alumni Club of Franklin County. I was talking to an older woman sitting at my table who already had one master’s degree and was about to go back for another in a completely different field. That was the moment I decided it was time for me.

I’m in my 40s now. What am I waiting for?

I reached my one-year anniversary at my job later that month, which made me eligible for tuition assistance. I was already casually looking at master’s programs in marketing, which is my current field (and one I’ve been interested in all along, but it took a long time to wedge my foot in the door). Then I found out the Columbus chapter of the American Marketing Association (of which I’m a member through work) had a partnership with Franklin University for a 20% tuition discount on the Marketing & Communication program.

Things clicked.

Without second-guessing myself, without overthinking, I applied. I figured I’ve already been thinking about getting a master’s degree for 18 years. Any barriers to doing so were being created in my own mind. I jumped through the hoops at Franklin University and at work, getting everything squared away to make this happen. Again, just doing it. Not wondering if I’m being ridiculous. Not questioning if this was worth my time.

So, here I am. The second week of classes is coming to an end. So far, so good. It’s a vastly different experience than I had the last time, but that’s for the best. I’m older now and wiser.

My expected completion date is August 2021. I take a moment each day to envision walking onstage at graduation to get that diploma and hood.

I will do this. I’ve spent a sizeable chunk of my life dreaming about it. It’s time to make it a reality.

Grit and Determination: On Ultrarunning and Life

My brother, Marcus, is an ultrarunner. He has finished (and not finished) several long-distance trail runs over the past decade or so, with the maximum distance being 100 miles.

Two weeks ago, he came back to Ohio to run the Mohican Trail 100. Mohican is a special place for us. We went there frequently as kids. So, I understood why this run was important to him. He attempted it in 2015 and didn’t finish. The weather conditions made the trails treacherous, and he was concerned about injuring himself and being unable to do another 100-mile race later the summer.

So, why am I writing about this? Well, it has some applications to life outside of running.

I was part of his crew for this most recent run. It was me, our mom, our aunt, and my husband. I have never crewed before. None of us had, except my Mom (Mohican 2015). My sister-in-law, Marcus’ wife, was also on the crew during the daytime hours, but she paced him at night during the worst part of things. Just calling her crew really does her a disservice, but she was there. And she is experienced at crewing, which helped us a lot.

Let me tell you, it’s WORK. If you have never crewed an ultrarunner, well, here’s a brief summary of how that works:

You haul the runner’s gear to every aid station you have access to. This means a cooler filled with whatever they choose for nourishment, and a bag filled with extra shoes, clothes, anti-chafe products, etc. You do this AROUND THE CLOCK. The runners don’t stop, so neither do you. You check at each aid station to see what food they have available there, in case your runner wants pizza or a cup of hot broth.

There is a lot of waiting at the aid stations. You watch runners get medical treatment (and sometimes leave in ambulances). You cheer for other runners as they come in. And when your runner comes in, you get them whatever they need to keep going – a bottle of Ensure, a grilled cheese sandwich, a leg massage. And above all, you stay positive and encouraging. It’s a mental game even more than a physical one.

And because things aren’t hard enough, we got torrential rain overnight. Bad for the runners. Bad for the crew (because parking wasn’t always right by the aid station, flooding was widespread, and keeping his gear dry was a challenge). Bad for everyone.

To make a long story short, he finished. The rain made the trails slick and muddy. There was poor visibility throughout the night. He told us that he could hear trees falling somewhere in the forest during the night, so conditions were even dangerous. His clothes and shoes were soaked through. Hypothermia was a very real possibility. The conditions slowed him down enough to where we were concerned he wouldn’t finish by the cut-off time (32 hours). But he pushed through, and he picked up the pace when daylight came. He needed that finish.

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Pure grit and determination.

That’s the takeaway from this.

I’m not a runner. I couldn’t even run around the block unless I was being chased by a machete-wielding maniac. But watching him finish was a victory for us, his crew, as much as it was for him. We were all invested.

And now I have my own long-distance run (metaphorically speaking) to finish. I’m starting grad school in the fall. This is my second attempt at grad school. I didn’t finish the first. I’m not going to get into the reasons for that – a lot of it was beyond my control.

But this time, I will finish. And I have a support system to cheer me on and push me forward. I can even visualize my graduation day. I need to keep that vision in my head. Eyes on the prize.

I wonder, at this point in my life, if I’m too tired to do this. If I’m too busy to do this. I feel overwhelmed a lot of the time with adult responsibilities, and now I’m piling on another one.

Grit and determination. If ultrarunners can get through what seem like insurmountable obstacles to get to the finish line, I can surely do this.