And so begins another journey.

I've never considered myself much of a planner. Sure I like to have things in order for a given scenario, say dinner w/ friends; time, place, etc, check. What I'm referring to, though, is the "bigger picture," and what that looks like for me. Lately I've been thinking a lot about food. I want to, in some way, incorporate food into my life on a deeper level. Now, I'm not looking at eating myself into an early grave or anything like that, but more and more I find myself fascinated with food.

If you look at each culture from around the globe, one common theme is food and how it brings people together. Large Italian families come together on the weekend to cook, drink wine and just be in each others presence. Koreans tend to venture out to their favorite neighborhood sikdang (restaurant) for special events with family and friends. Even busy, single New Yorker's host dinner parties within their inner circle. What's so intriguing about this to me is living that experience and being a part of something local... something driven by community.

Before I left for Korea, I flew home briefly to visit family and spend a few days in the Northwoods. Now, since everyone has gone from the house and the cooking is done for two, mom's cooking tends to be a bit removed from what I remember growing up. But when we all come together something magical happens. The smell of searing pork chops, the sound of kids playing in the living room, dad sitting in his chair patiently waiting for dinner to be served and mom, the way that she just knows how to bring everything together. Wooden spoon or a simple fork in hand, tending to the stove and always with a simple lesson for the days meal. She cooks more by feel than by sight, smell or recipe anymore. I love that!

I've had community gatherings of my own, though most came at a different time in life when I was a bit more "domestic" as Becca would say. Elizabeth and I would have a few friends over for a late breakfast complete with Mimosa's or a dinner on the patio extending late into the evening. This sharing of time, this venture into gastronomic community is what I want more of... I just don't fully know what it looks like yet.

7000 miles from home...

This Sunday will mark the half way point of my Korean excursion. I'm excited to come home.

A lot will change once I'm back. Jon and Jamie are moving back to Maryland, I'm moving into my new place downtown and will be forced with the task of outfitting the space with furniture (which is a little daunting since I've actually never owned any) and I'm going to have a go at not owning a vehicle for a while. Interesting challenges await for sure!

Speaking of challenges, I've registered for my first running race since high school. This fall (September 11 specifically), I'll be running Imogene. The race takes place on Imogene pass which connects Ouray to Telluride in southwestern Colorado. What makes this race special, or brutal in some eyes, is the fact that it begins at 7800 ft and climbs to its highest point at 13,114 before descending back down into more oxygen dense air on the passes opposite side, all in a magnificent 17 miles.

Wish me luck. Wish me motivation. I miss my family.

g'nite

Friends are family, in case anyone was feeling slighted.

in search of gold

The arching bands of light stood proudly against the grey sky as the storm moved east across the mountains. The days light was beginning to wain, yet when the last rays of sun shone through the ominous cloak, it was apparent that solemnity would welcome nitefall. I pulled the car to the roads edge and cut the engine.

My summer in Alaska's wilderness was drawing to a close but I felt as though this rainbow, this display of colour was inviting me to explore more deeply. "What should I be exploring though?" Should I be searching for the pot of gold as Irish folklore would suggest? Perhaps I would look to my ancestry and Norse mythology for the answer, believing that the rainbow connects the homes of Gods to those of humans. Each interpretation of a rainbow presents a common theme: To some it's a path, to others a promise, a bridge, a reminder. For me, the rainbow is a reminder. A reminder to let myself explore the possibilities of this world in which we live.

One doesn't really consider the power of a rainbow until you think back to all those that you've been lucky enough to witness. Connecting green pastures in Ireland, holding the mountains within it's arms in Alaska, spreading above the trees horizon back home in Northern Wisconsin. When you're lucky enough to see one first hand, you feel like a child again, experiencing this wonder for the first time.

Let your imagination run free. Find your pot of gold, dance with the Gods, let the rainbow wash away the doubt you hold close within your soul. The possibilities when you allow yourself to explore are limitless.

"That Guy"

**Warning: Before continuing on with this entry, please understand that these words come from a person seeking to find himself, rather than some self-promoting narcissist bent on getting everyone to notice him (some of you may already feel that way about me, to that I say I'm sorry I've become that person...that has never been my intention).**

My run felt good this morning. Correct that...My run felt GREAT this morning!! It's incredible what a few days in a row of physical work can do for a persons demeanor and fitness. That being said, it's also worthy to point out that I'm not getting any younger. A good number of my closest friends are a few years my senior, and I've listened to them lament the aches and pains of aging and the fact that the body doesn't respond to workouts or recovery as once it had. The past two mornings have been good at providing me that humility. There was a time, in the not too distant past mind you, where I could go on a forty or fifty mile ride, not stretch afterwards, grab a couple of beers with friends that evening, and be up the next day to do it all again...if not surpass my previous days effort. Saturday I ran, worked, rode my bike, caught a hockey game and some beers with a few friends. Sunday morning, it felt as though my body had been beaten by a handful of gnomes with tiny little bats in my sleep...I still climbed that day.

Climbing on real rock felt good, though a bit nerve wracking at the same time. Being 80 feet off the earth's floor, tied into a half inch piece of polyester/nylon while your belayer asks you to look up and hold still while he snaps off two or three pictures. This can be a bit disconcerting from time to time. To celebrate our accomplishments, Tim and I enjoyed taco's at Lau'aus and a few cans of PBR while we re-hashed the days events. The pictures turned out fuzzy for those wondering, and waking up this morning brought new levels of pain to my body. Fingers that wouldn't cooperate fully when asked to open and close and knots the size of racquetballs line my shoulder blades...I still ran today.

So, back to the reference of "that guy." Once my legs, and subsequently lungs, had to chance to catch up to what my will was putting them through, I felt invincible! It was after a quick section of downhill in Ute Valley Park that my mind started racing. I want to become "that guy." You all know the person I'm referring to. The guy in the corner, minding his own who you feel knows a little too much about the events unfolding. The guy who has the perfect job, the perfect companion and the best dog and seemingly has his shit in order. The guy who gives you the shirt off his back and asks nothing in return. The guy who never complains, about anything. The guy who runs with you, encouraging you up the hill that kicks your ass every time, then drops you like a sack of flour at the top of the pitch. I want to be "that guy" is what my mind was thinking. By this time in the run, my body had switched from feel good sensations into those of writhing in agony, snot dripping from both nostrils and a breathe so labored that I've seen cows on the farm get put down for less.

So at this point, you're probably wondering, "how does that constitute as a 'great' run?". The run this morning proved to me that I still have a ways to go. I complain when things don't work out just so, rather than adjusting my actions to compensate. I'm still searching for that perfect companion, which may in-fact, be the problem in and of itself. And my shit...my shit is anything but in order right now! I'm working on it though. Slowly but surely.

Change on the Horizon

It's hardest to make the first move I suppose. I've started this first post two separate times and have subsequently changed it as it wasn't to my liking. The first started off with something about hating my job and staring at the four, milky white walls of my cubicle, while being verbally accosted by one of "our" shareholders. My second attempt at the initial post began in a more reflective tone, speaking about the year 2009 in review (being engaged, not being engaged, skiing, cycling, working two jobs, etc). This diary, of sorts, isn't about either of those things. It's not a reflection on the past, or meant to harp on the negative, it's about moving forward and living life.

Change has re-entered my life recently. It's been a long time in the making and, much like this journal entry, it's taken a bit to begin. Monday, January 4th marked the beginning of the end to my corporate working career. All in all the reception to my leaving has been extremely positive. The supervisors and department managers all seem to feel confident in my decision, possibly to their own benefit since they won't need to pull me aside any longer to talk to me about my metrics or my tardiness or what have you. They all know I wasn't cut from the corporate cloth and it's been a good run but it's time for bigger and better things. The response from my co-workers has been much the same. Jabs here and there and plea's for me to take them with have all helped me realize what a support network I've had there for the past three (+) years.

I've fond memories of all of my colleagues that won't soon be forgotten. Adam's uncomfortable chuckle when he's on the phone with a client, making Raechelle laugh while jammin out the latest hip hop rhyme's, blowin up the fist bump with Dan, Bill's "all in and all done, market's closed" comment which comes like clockwork every day, Bruce with his wry smile and infectious spirit, talking skiing and powder days with Sarah, quoting the talking Goat with Chris, reminiscing of the midwest with Blane, talk of beer and bikes with Mike. The list goes on...

I don't really have much of a plan over the next few months and that's the way I prefer it to be. I'll ski more for sure, I may or may not start going to yoga again, I'll climb, ride and run when I feel like it. I may even take up reading books...seems like a novel (haha! no pun intended) concept, though one I've never really made time for. I'll continue to work my restaurant job at Sonterra Grill at nite to get me through until the next opportunity presents itself. I'm going to start cooking again on my own rather than just collecting recipes that go unmade for lack of time.

Reading back over this last paragraph, it appears as though I do have a plan...to start living life again...