Doomed to Suffer

You may be wondering where I have been, but the end of a semester is always a hectic and stressful time for me. I do more work the final three weeks of a school term than in the previous thirrteen. At least that is the way it feels. And once we had a president who would call special meetings (Yes, plural) during the last three weeks. We had to cancel classes and go to these meetings which were nothing  more than two hour pep-rallies for one of our off campus sites. The focus at that time was "academic quality." Cancel class during the final, busy, important last three weeks of a term, drive to another campus for a mandatory meeting (we had to sign in) and hear hours of dribble on moving dirt and fixing parking lots and how it is not going to take us sixteen years to implement new software that we paid millions for (in times of a budget crises) like it took another community college. I used to sit at these meeting and think, "This has got to be a hidden camera show. It must be."

No wonder administrators think teachers are stupid.

But things are better now. The focus is "customer service." Now we cancel classes,  remove them from the schedule, while registration is ongoing. Customers are so well served by this that sometimes, after learning that the schedule they thought they had painfully worked out is no longer available and that the financial aid they thought they had was adversely affected, walk out the door and vow never to return. "Customer service." Believe me, I can go on and on and on and on.

What's the point?

I just needed to vent a bit. Thanks for listening.

Training last week was once more very poor. I know you think I am a poor-mouther and maybe I am, but things really have not been going well in my preparations for the Chicot Challenge. A colleague asked me about it and my reply was, "I think I have about a one percent chance of being successful." Yes, I did exaggerate. In actuality, I think its more like a point one percent chance. But I still have hope, not much but some.

Last week was decent in terms of running (23.27 miles with three multi-paced efforts) and 4.81 miles of walking. However, my weight and appetite are still out of control (don't say anything, Britny Wiggins), and I only swam 11,400 meters.

The reason things have been bad on the training front has to do with a Facebook challenge I saw and took the bait on around the first of April. It was a Ten 10K Challenge for April and I thought,"I probably can't pull it off, but if I can get four or five, I will be way ahead of the game." Now I am way behind in the game. Usually I do my first 10K around the end of April. With a new wetsuit, water in the 60s, and the Ten 10K Challenge ringing in my mind, I did my first marathon swim of the year on April 1. It has been all down hill from there.

I know, I know, don't preach at me. You are yelling at me right now, aren't you Daniel Collins? But at the time it didn't seem reckless, just a little bold and adventurous, and I love bold adventure.

The right pec is the issue, and I never let it get bad. Whenever it would flareup, I just stopped and got out of the water. That has been the problem: I keep stopping way too early and getting out of the water.

Randy Beets loses his cell phone from time to time. A few weeks back I sent him a text to which he hasn't responded. It could be because we are mortal enemies and he hates me. If he had responded, I was going to use the "R" word with him. As it stands now, I think my chances for success in the Challenge have risen to about three percent. The "R" word will have to wait. I may can still pull this off, but it really is a long shot, and yes, I know what you are thinking, Shawn C. Turner, but seventeen miles ain't no joke. I am behind last year's swim training by over 100 miles and the sixteen then was a suffer-fest. I wanted to avoid another suffer-fest. That won't happen now.