obviously oblivious

About three weeks ago, I began running. I knew I was terribly out of shape, and, despite the August heat in NYC, I decided to start running to get myself back in shape. Maybe I'm the kind of guy that likes to be tortured...I just knew it would be a challenge. As I thought about my life experiences over the preceding months, especially since moving to NYC last November, I realized that I hadn't challenged myself much. And running was such a simple thing, and such an immense challenge to me. I've never been the running type, but, living in New York, I noticed that everyone ran. Well, maybe not everyone but why couldn't I?

So I bought some running shoes, shorts and set out to run along Astoria Park. The first week was brutal, as I knew it would be. But I set a goal for myself: run along a specified route (which I later found out was 2 miles) in 30 minutes, running 1 minute and walking for 4. I ended up running 5 times throughout the route, with each running section lasting between 1-2 minutes. The rest of the time I walked, huffing and puffing. But I made it.

I eventually began to reduce the number of running sections. I've gotten it down to three, which means I'm running more and walking less. My goal is to be able to run the entire two miles before it gets too cold to run this fall. (October/November?) I've got 1-2 months to get there and I think I'll make it.

I've also learned that running is, for me at this stage in my game, as much a mental sport as it is a physical one. I'll often create goals for myself on the fly. "OK, run to the bridge and then you can walk." I don't think I've failed to meet one of these goals yet, but the chorus of doubters in my head can be hard to ignore when I'm only 1/2 way there and feeling exhausted. But I persevere. I accomplish my goal, start walking, and tell myself, "OK, start running again when you reach that trash can up there." And so once I've made that commitment to myself, I don't back down.

If any of my readers are runners, please share some of your experiences as a beginner. (It was probably many years ago for you...) I can feel it getting better and better as time goes on, but I know I'm going to hit a wall eventually and it's going to be difficult to make progress. What do you do to calm the voices in your head? (That sounds more twisted than it actually is.) What do you do physically to build your endurance?

In order to grow as humans, we must put ourselves in vulnerable positions. Positions in which we open ourselves up to ridicule, feedback and rejection. We must take our guard down. Otherwise, nobody will truly learn who we are, and we will make no progress personally or professionally.

Do you fear rejection? I sure do. It's something I struggle with each and every day. It's certainly had an impact on my day to day activities, but it's also made me who I am today.

There are a ton of cliche's around to help people deal with this struggle. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." "From pain will come pleasure." "The only way you're gonna learn is to live it." These are just a few that come to mind. But do they really help you get over the hurdle? Do they help soothe the sting when you are rejected or ridiculed? Sometimes yes, but more often than not, no.

The only way one will learn how to persevere through the pain is to, you guessed it, make oneself vulnerable. For me, it's one of my greatest struggles in life. Luckily I've realized this and can now take the necessary steps to deal with it and grow.

I started a blog last summer, writing about the music business and related topics. I wrote a few solid posts and some even got some traction from people I respect. I should have kept the momentum going, kept writing, making contacts. But instead, I disappeared.

I didn't want to open myself back up. Call it insecurity. For some reason, after I took some time off from blogging, I didn't feel as confident as I did before. I didn't want someone to read my blog and say, "Wow. This guy's an idiot. He's so wrong for all these reasons. ..." But you know what? I've learned that the chances of that ever happening are slim to none. And if it did, why not learn from the experience?

So I decided to resurrect my Posterous account (which I had never used anyway) and my goal is to write a few posts each week. I don't care if nobody reads them. I'll get better as time goes on and I'll learn a ton from the experience.

Remember, you miss 100% of the shots you don't take. (Thanks Wayne Gretzky.) You owe it to yourself to take the shot and see where it lands.

I grew up in a middle class neighborhood in the suburbs of Connecticut. Our family owned our own house, a couple cars and all the associated things that come with those possessions. I used to love mowing the lawn with (or for) my dad. Sometimes we'd go up on the roof and clean the leaves out of the gutters. I'd clean my car in the driveway...OUR driveway. Play catch on OUR lawn. Play my drums in MY bedroom.

But then I moved to NYC and realized...in NYC, nothing is yours. Everything is shared.

The parking spaces? That's city property. You have to run out to the store real quick? That prime spot in front of your apartment will be gone within minutes.

Oh yeah, that apartment? You don't own that either. Can't pay your rent for a month? You'll get kicked out in no time. Demand outstrips supply in cities. Do you have any idea how many people want to live in the city? Your landlord could kick you out and have a new tenant paying $100/month more than you by tomorrow morning. Hell, I live in Queens and a few months back when we had to find a new roomate, we had dozens of responses to a craigslist ad overnight.

I'm glad I don't have to climb up on the roof and clean out the gutters. But it would be nice to be able to wash my car in my driveway. Or play catch in my front yard. Or have a washer/dryer in my apartment. Why do these things become luxuries in the city?

Why do we live in cities where we own practically nothing? Why do I park my car on the street, when I'd obviously prefer my own driveway? Why do I pay rent when I'd obviously prefer to own? Why do I share a park with hundreds of strangers when I'd prefer my own private back yard?

These are questions I have yet to answer.

(Photo courtsey of ianqui via flickr.)