memories of the mekong

i'm training for a (sprint) triathlon.

after my second half marathon, i decided i was up for a different kind of challenge.  in a roundabout phone conversation, my sister and i seemed to unintentionally convince each other that flying to san diego for a long weekend to compete in what will be my first triathlon was a great idea.

now don't get me wrong, i'm very excited.  i've developed a strict training regimen that involves me waking up far before the sun each morning to work out.  some mornings i cycle and other mornings i swim.  then in the afternoons i often run and do yoga.  i'm exhausted, but i'm feeling physically fit and prepared for the trio of fitness challenges that awaits me on the west coast.

the one leg of the race that i'm very nervous about, despite my preparedness, is the swim.

you may or may not know this about me.  but i'm scared of the dark.  this fear includes:

1. walking alone at night (the only legitimate part of my fear for someone my age)

2. entering a room/building when no one is home and thus, all the lights are off (i have grown to be ok with this situation in my own apartment)

3. sleeping (yes, i have a nightlight to scare away the monsters under my bed)

4. camping (lions, tigers, and bears, oh my)

5. expansive bodies of water when i cannot see the bottom

those expansive bodies of water are what concern me most right now.  to prep myself, i have been trying to recall all the times that i've swum in something dark and unfamiliar.  unfortunately, all the water we swam in during our travels last year were perfectly crystal clear, so that doesn't help my comfort level.  the atlantic ocean is cloudy but i've swum in it my whole life, making it familiar and non-threatening.  i generally tend to stay away from anything particularly murky... 

the one very fitting experience that comes to mind for comfort was last fall in thailand.  A and i were nearing the end of our SE asia adventure and had traveled with A's cousin, H, from nong khai via motorbike to a sleepy "town" on the mekong river.  by town i mean, a very small cluster of people and buildings having the most relaxed life imaginable.  we each rented a bungalow for a long weekend of reading in hammocks overlooking the vast mekong river.

to say that our setup was idyllic is an extreme understatement.  i don't know if there are even words to describe the calmness of this place.  despite the roaring mekong below us, i cannot remember a time when i have been more relaxed.

on our last night in the bungalows, we stayed up late chatting and drinking leos until the boys decided that it was time to go swimming in the mekong.  now, it was the middle of the night and we were in the middle of nowhere.  darkness surrounded us and i was terrified to begin with.  absolutely not was i going swimming in the river that RAGED below us.  had they not seen how fast it was moving?  had they not seen how wide it was?  had they not noticed that you can't the bottom?  who knows what lives in there! did they not notice that it was DARK OUTSIDE?!!  

while they ran down the hill and dove in, i slowly made my way behind them as their "lifeguard."  i wasn't going to completely miss out on the "fun" by sitting on the porch in the dark alone.  

well. needless to say, after a couple rounds of the boys flipping into the water and letting it carry them downstream before swimming back to the hill and climbing up, i realized that they weren't going to die.  if any scary monsters lived in the depths, they hadn't surfaced yet and i they were having so much fun!  so in i jumped.  the swift current caught me by surprise and my heart was racing (you know, because of the potential sea monsters and all the darkness) but i was swimming in the mekong!  those 15 minutes of swimming in the hugest, muddiest, fastest moving body of water that i have ever seen are something that i will never forget.

it's funny how something that encapsulates so many of my fears can be one of my greatest memories. 

so when i think about swimming in the mekong, i realize that san diego's mission bay can't possibly be that bad. 

x!

possible retraction?

i cannot believe how many things i did today!  despite the cold, rainy weather, i got up (early) and ran the GW Parkway 10 miler classic (and finished in 1:35:39!), ate a delicious brunch in del rey with M and her fam, AND met up with cousin J (who i hadn't seen since i moved here) for delicious, celebratory beers at one of my favorite spots.  that was all before 3pm.  i was exhausted.  upon returning home i took a much needed shower and nap and then was out the door for church at 5 followed directly by needtobreathe at the 930 club.

i did all of those things and i normally don't like to leave my house in the rain.

i was thinking over my day and i realized that it would be hard to accomplish such a day living anywhere else.  i also realized that i've had lots of similar days in the recent past.  in fact, my weekends have generally been incredible.  thus, i may have to retract my previous claim of having a mundane life...

x!

life seems so mundane and i feel like a brat for complaining.

on this calm saturday evening, i've been sitting on my couch, sipping a tasty stone smoked porter and trying to update this here blog with stories of my current real life.  everything i begin to chronicle, however, seems so..... normal.

i mean, i do lots of fun things, i guess...  (although writing a follow-up sentence here is proving to be rather difficult) 

it's just that living here in arlington and working in the DC area is a life that so many other people are living.  not everyone can say that they've lived in italy and taught at an international school, or traveled to SE asia for 6 weeks, or driven the alaska-canada highway, so i've had a significant leg up in the realm of exciting life experiences during the last year and a half.  and now i feel that i've fallen so far...  maybe i'm still coming down from the high or i'm still struggling to adjust to staying in one place?  how long is reverse culture shock supposed to last? 

i struggle every day with my level of happiness.  i am enjoying my time here (all 4 months of it so far) but i just feel like such a cop out.  to be here seems like taking the easy way out -- i mean i already have friends here, family close by, to build a more long-term life here would involve almost no effort.  so that sounds great! what's the problem?  ugh! i don't know!  i find myself welling up with tears in moments of even the smallest confusion.  or when i'm stuck in traffic that i've learned to expect.  what is wrong with me? 

i'm teaching which is what i want to be doing.  i'm doing something good for the world -- not everyone is willing to work to educate those adorable children with whom i spend most of my time.  i have an excellent job at an excellent school in an excellent district with excellent funding with the best coworkers and an excellent class of students with supportive parents -- it just all seems too easy, too normal...

when i compare my current state of affairs to what i was doing a year ago, things aren't that different.  we took weekend trips to nearby places like slovenia, verona, and venice .  i still take day and weekend trips but they are to richmond, charlottesville, and other places in the great expanse of northern virginia -- it's much less exciting to write home about traveling across northern va for dinner than it is to tell of an osmiza adventure in slovenia.  i'm still spending most of my time at school with small children and much of my free time is taken up by reading, running, and drinking illy coffee.  and i'm happy.

i guess i shouldn't be complaining.  i have just told you how i have pretty much everything i could need or want as far as a job and a life go and the fact that it's not terribly exciting for every minute of every day is no reason to complain -- that makes me sound like a little bit of a brat.

ugh.