Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Taking Leaps in the Right Direction

I rarely get to chance to mention this, but I absolutely love leap years. In fact, I’ve never had a bad leap year. Without getting into too much of a personal history lesson, 2000 and 2004 were two of my three favorite years of the last decade, while 2008 was highly productive (and had its moments of enjoyability). 1996 was even my favorite year of the 90s! Really, you can’t go wrong with leap years. I love the Summer Olympics and U.S. Presidential elections. Most importantly, it gives us one extra day to accomplish our goals.

This year I have made a concerted effort to “trim the fat”, so to speak. After literally trimming fat from my body at the end of 2011, I’ve spent 2012 discarding the things and people that were nothing more than an albatross to me. I go to bed much earlier. I work hard, whether it’s at either of my jobs or training for a marathon. I spend significantly less time on mindless drivel and aimless people, and I feel much better for it.

So how did I spend my extra day? I voluntarily got up at 7:15 to run three miles. After that, I took care of some housekeeping before my sister and I enjoyed the delightful weather out at Oak Brook and lunch at Granite City. After that, I got to tutor some kids.

This year I have been able to see myself take significant leaps forward in my life. While I have not reached the desired end destination, I am excited for what is to come. I look forward to more leaps, greater productivity, and sustained success. Keep moving forward.

Monday, February 13, 2012

On Love, Life, and the Like

Find your other half. Make love happen today. Fall in love for the right reasons. Blah blah blah blah blah. Try getting through one commercial break without seeing a commercial for a dating site, a jewelry store, or a chick flick/romantic comedy. I don’t want to hear it, not because I’m some bitter hardened scrooge of a loser whose better days have passed him by. Without tooting my own horn, I know I’m a commodity. There are probably more people interested in me now than at any point in my life. I am both flattered and humbled by that. I don’t want to hear it because it displays a distinct lack of perspective. In order to get the most out of life, love, and everything in between, there are two things I believe you need to do.

Love others before yourself.

For the most part, we are inherently selfish and overly indulgent. We do what we want to satisfy our own desires and whims. Most of our actions are done from a “me-first” perspective. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing to look out for oneself. Somebody has to do it. However, we take self-preservation and pleasure to extremes and become hypersensitive to our own desires. We need to become more selfless. We need to become as attuned to the wants and desires of those close to us as we are attuned to our own feelings. No one, regardless of their affluence, occupation, or attractiveness, can be successful in a relationship if their sole focus is on the self. Thoughtfulness and understanding is integral to building relationships at the platonic and familial levels, let alone at the romantic level.

Fall in love with yourself before falling in love with someone else.

This is not an argument for narcissism or anything of the sort. It is also not a direct contradiction to the preceding paragraph. It is, however, a fundamental truth when it comes to establishing and maintaining a romantic relationship. It is very difficult for someone to fall in love with a person who has not yet fallen in love with himself. The constant insecurity and self-second guessing is nothing but detrimental to the success of a relationship. On the other side, someone who struggles with love of self is going to have immense difficulty in displaying love towards a significant other. Before even considering the notion of falling in love with someone, fall in love with yourself. Get to know yourself. Take note of the things you like about yourself and work to change the things you do not. Once you’ve gotten a grasp on that, take note of the things you would and would not like in a companion. Stand firm to your desires and convictions, and proceed thusly. Don’t believe the myth of a “better half”.

I personally do not like the idea of an “other half”. I don’t want a half of a person. I don’t consider myself to be a half of a person. I am a whole person who wants a complementary whole person with whom I can form a meaningful connection.

The last thing I want to do is to rush into anything or have something for the sake of having something. My mother, bless her heart, has spent the better portion of the last three years trying to set me up with student teachers and coworkers’ daughters. I appreciate that I am considered “setuppable.” Yes, I just made up that word. But that’s not what I want. I am pleased with where I am and look forward to getting to where I want to be. I encourage you to do the same. If you don’t think you’re “enough” without someone, you’re not going to be “enough” with someone, either.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Jakob vs. Jakob, or the Rebranding of My Competitive Nature

If you read my apologia or have known me since the late 1990s or before, you know that Mr. Clifton was and is my favorite teacher and holds a great deal of responsibility for my interest in the field of education. Therefore, it should come as no surprise to you that it is always a pleasure to hear from him. The last time I heard from him was a little different. One innocuous tweet unearthed an old wound and spurred hours of deep thought about things that somehow escaped mention in my apologia.

…just heard from Darnell…hard to believe we are (13) years removed from the dirigible incident…

The “dirigible incident” which he alluded to had to do with the last spelling bee I took part in. Before you take any shots at me, yes, I was one of “those” kids. I partook in Spelling Bees, Speech Meets, and Math Olympics. And without tooting my own horn, I was pretty good. Going into 6th grade, I won all four spelling bees I had entered, took home three blue ribbons at the speech meet, and won two of the three math competitions I had entered. However, victory did not bring with it a sense of accomplishment or relief. Of course I enjoyed success, but each victory brought with it a greater pressure to accomplish more. That really came to a head by early 1999.

With the ACSI spelling bees, victory did not end in the classroom for 5th through 8th grade students. There were three additional rounds: the “stage” round (for the first and second place finishers in the 5th through 8th grade competitions), the regional spelling bee (which the top four stage finishers qualified for), and the ACSI National Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C.

That spelling bee was the hardest fought of any spelling bee I had entered. Katie Prosapio and I fought tooth and nail for rounds and rounds before I finally bested her. Neither of us had any time to recover. It was off to the stage!

I drew the 8th (and best) seat for that round. Even if I got my word wrong, there was the off chance that I’d already have qualified thanks to four people before me missing their words. Sadly, nobody had missed by that point.

My word was dirigible. To this day I contend that the spellmaster mispronounced it. That is irrelevant. I misspelled the word and was eliminated.

To say I was crushed would be an understatement. For a number of years I was a fairly big fish in a small pond. Not only did I feel the pond expanding, I could see the fish growing around me. I followed up the letdown at the spelling bee with a (much less desired) red ribbon and a “thanks for trying” honorable mention in the math competition. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t achieving my goals.

The losses of 1999 created a dramatic rebranding in me. I could not carry on in that way any longer. I absolutely could not handle losing. It ate at me. The mere thought of potential loss completely consumed me to the point of reduced functionality. Things needed to change. That was the end of spelling bees, speech meets, and math competitions.

I know that it is very difficult to change overnight. However, it is much simpler to shift some things around in order to create that change. It would’ve been unreasonable for me to believe that I needed to immediately stop being competitive. That just doesn’t go away. It WAS reasonable to believe that I could channel my competitive juices elsewhere. And thus, the Jakob Duehr that you know and possibly tolerate was created.

Do I still hate losing? Absolutely. It still riles me every time my Seahawks lose. Just imagine how it would be if I were actually competing myself! But I try my best to stay as uncompetitive as possible when it comes to other people. Sure, I do the fantasy football thing, but my interest in that has waned over time. Games and competitions against other people fail to interest me because I have spent the better part of the last 13 years in another game. I am constantly at battle with myself. I set goals for myself, and I am consistently trying to be a better Jakob than the Jakob I used to be.

Running has been a great thing for me in that regard. I have a tangible and objective way of determining how much better I have become. This week I ran a 5k in just over 21 minutes. That is 3 minutes better than the time I ran on New Year’s Eve in Matteson, which was 2 minutes faster than the previous best time. I am constantly setting new goals for myself. You may call that being a malcontent. I call it a creative way to channel my competitive energy.

Sure, some people may call me obsessive, and in some regards they would be right. I have had the tendency to burn out at times. I have also tended to have such tunnel vision in regards to my continuous self-competition that I have neglected other areas of my life. Rest assured that part of self-competition is that I am always trying to get better. I’ll wage war on those areas, and I believe I will emerge victorious.

I got a follow up tweet from Mr. Clifton. It read as follows:

…[you] would have been dominant in 7th grade… D.C. Fo Sho…

While I appreciate the sentiment, I likely wouldn’t have. The fear of loss would’ve consumed me, and the competition was steadily improving. Even if I had won, the fleeting contentment I would have gotten from the victory would not have been worth it. Could things have been different? Maybe. But I’m fine with the way things worked out.