Me,Myself, and I

Who am I?
Who do I aspire to be?

Over the past few weeks, these questions have more than usual troubled my mind. I'm young, and I understand that: I still have plenty of time to find answers. High school in my eyes is a sort of trial-and-error period, in which many feel they hit a proving ground. A lot of people think they know who they want to be, but can they realistically look ten years to the future and say, "That'll be me." ?(incorrect english.)

I'm not sure why it's just hitting me now. I took some time, and looked at myself in third person. For some reason, I wasn't quite satisfied. But that's exactly my point: I don't think I'll ever really know who I want to be for sure. In the meantime, I've been taking interest in other people. It takes up most of my time, and thought. I would really like to know how other people function internally(not literally, but mentally). I can spend days analyzing people's habits, manner, mental workings: I'm just utterly fascinated by it. I think it would supplement my own train bike of thought, until it can run without the training wheels.

Let's see. Who am I now:
My mindset-
I try to love everyone, unless they give me reason not to. I figure interested and interesting people will return the favor, and the rest I'm not sure I should take interest in.

The Facts-
I'm young, and unsure of who I want to be.
I'm always looking for new means of expressing myself.
I pay attention to other people very closely.
There's another side of me only a few people know. If you're interested, show it!

(What I think are) My strengths-
Perception and Deep Thought.
Good gut instincts, which I follow to the letter.
Outspoken.
Absolute honesty.

My weaknesses-
Quick to make decisions.
Quick to care too much.
Have a hard time forgiving myself.
Have a hard time building trust.

Well that's me for now.
Who are you?

The All or Nothing Race

11-5-08 Sierra League Finals

This could possibly be my last race of the season.

On the subject of Past events:
A summary of my varsity career: unexpected, mostly disappointing, yet oddly enlightening. It was definitely painful, and it had its ups and downs(mostly downs). However, I find that in looking to the future it is more beneficial that I experience these downs. A quote I keep near and dear during those dreaded times of Interval days, or hill repeats: "Pain is good. Pain is progress." From the ashes of my mistakes, I can forge my future through hard work, sweat, and cramped calves.

On the subject of events to come(most namely tomorrow):
After a brief talk with a "secret confidentiale" I've decided to share my views on this make or break race tomorrow with the team. However, enjoy a sneak preview, or maybe even a piece of memorabilia seeing as no one will probably read this until after the race.

I noticed at the pre game dinner that there is an inherent flaw in the results. The purpose of the gathering is to both fuel the runners with lots o carbs for energy(obviously. Spaghetti dinner.) and more importantly to get "pumped up" for the next day's race. Although we definitely covered the first half, the latter is missing in action. I came out of the dinner full of stomach, and empty of heart. Later, though, after reviewing the faults of my previous races and goals of those to come I came to a conclusion. I hate it when Bergmann, Former Varsity, or ANYONE talks down to me and I aim to fix it. I never want to hear put downs, and I'd cut my heart out on the spot if meant a clap on the back, the good job: you won. Today(well, tomorrow at the moment), I'm going for the gold, nothing less. I don't want to just beat diamond bar: I'm here to kick butts, break hearts, and take back everything we lost and shove it in Ayala's/Glendora's face. I'm ready to drop a bomb: my shoes are the Anola Gay and Ayala's about to take it in the tenders.

To my Varsity teammates: Forget third. Let's go for the gold.

"Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming."

First Show!

We begin our story on October 17, Anti Meridian, approximately 7:10. Michael aka Mikey Breitenstein contains in his possession an extra ticket to the Anberlin performance at the Glass House 12 hours later. I had been offered said ticket a day or two before, refused on the grounds of a certain lack of cash, due to my buying my date to homecoming's and my own ticket. However, a deal is worked out, and now I'm in debt of 20 units of U.S. currency.

My daily routine(my rat race, which I strive to stand out in) of education so deemed school by our tea sipping, slave owning forefathers, drags on by. The system by which it is dictated is flawed, there not being enough time in the designated limit to squeeze all the knowledge out of its courses. It being the day after the fiendishly tiring interval workout, we have a recovery day. I took it easy, favoring one leg a bit(it was the left one) and had a nice long chat with my date for homecoming.

The hours fly by, and a grey Mustang pulls up in front of my domicile. The uber-blonde driver is our beloved ticket holder, Mikey, his passenger the namesake of that guy in the sweater-vest who tells stories illustrated by little dolls and toys. We stop by the MikeCave for him to change into a shirt not matching mine. It takes a few tries, but eventually we pull out of his street and fly down peyton blasting music that is, to quote the driver, "loud as teats."

We stop for gas, first at arco, which was indeed a failed attempt. Down to the next gas station. We barely make it out of the gas station and to the next shopping centre over when he realized he had left the gas cap open. Real smart.

After securing the lid to the tank of flammable oils poweing the automobile, we cruise on down to the Glass House to meet Zac Applegate(yes you zac, my only current follower), Alex "Mufasa," and Chloe Staab. More time passes, a few "ehhh" bands, and then the real show starts. As a small interjection, we met up with Clint Hostetler, Kevin Crane, etc etc. I'm not quite as acquainted with the rest to include them(sorry guys). Returning to the main plot, the droll performances drag on and Anberlin appears on stage. "And the crowd goes wild." Soon, the crowd starts getting real amped up, and Zac taps my shoulder. A single gesture: his hands clasped, lowered and ready to launch. I had already surfed my way to the front earlier(following in Clint's footsteps), but I thought hey. Screw it. And I went for it.

I made it to about the front when someone launches me back into the middle. I smack my head upon I guess someone elses and I get a bit dazed. In any case I make it, or rather the crowd moves me, to the front. I walk outside, nab a shirt and play the waiting game. It wasn't quite worth trying to make it back to the front for the rest of a show only to last a few minutes. So I wait and the group meets again. The rest of the night is quite uneventful, and I return to my dwelling at approximately 12: 40 or so. 5 hours later it is this morning, and I'm gearing up for running with The Bergmann. I have a mean charlie horse from kneeing someone in the head.

And thus our story comes to an end. Mikey claims he is following in Coop's and Clint's footsteps by bringing the sophomores into the show scene. I being the only one of said group that is in any way close to the juniors, I'm deemed to continue on in this new adventure, the show scene.

More to come, I'll keep you posted Zac.
By the way, thanks for the lift.

A Perfect Insanity

A certain group of people, athletes rather, have come to my attention of having reached a state of mind characteristic of their own category. As athletes, they are different than others in work ethic, commitment, relation to their sport, and the undeniable bonds with their colleagues. As people, society could quite adequately label them as "insane." However, these monumental trailblazers in the areas of physical, psychological, and spiritual fitness have achieved perfection in self expression through sport. This particular and peculiar category of athletes are known as simply yet summatively:
Runners.

Running as a sport is neither exciting, money-making, or particularly popular in the all-too-common Football worshipping countries of today's "modern and advanced" world in which, simply, money IS everything. Sad I am to say most people have not the ability to see past the glamour, fortune, and luxuries usually seen with the celebrity/athlete caste of the materialistic hierachy, as recorded in tabloids next to Britney's slip up of the month. In sum, the running sport is pointless, dull and not beneficial in most ways.

However, participants of the sport drudge on through the hard commitment of constant training and complete balance of nutrition and bodily care. To what aim, purpose, goal, or objective do these "crazy" people strive?

To understand their higher level of thinking, one must cease to consider the idea of running as a sport. Running is different than any other in that it is a complete, transcendental lifesyle. It changes its athletes( if they can even be called that, considering we think of running as life not sport) and allows them to transcend the limits of material rewards others enjoy for their sports. They rise to a level of euphoria, a sort of natural high, rare and unique to the style of living. There are those who walk the middle path(in moderation), attempting to balance normal life and the runner's lifestyle, but these aren't quite the breed of runner the other portion is. Those who fully surrender to the transformation to "insanity" become perfectly adept at surpassing limits, restrictions, and expectations. They are perfect in showing their emotions in their runs, and can escape the troubles of the down to earth life(stress from school, work, struggling emotions, etc.). All chains to a stressful, unfair, and criminally lax life melt away as the runner drifts into a mental paradise.

This is their underlying philosophy, key to better living, secret of everlasting life that drives, pushes, and controls runners lives, who truly live more than any other.

I believe that in joining these remarkable individuals I have learned to better myself as a person physically and psychologically. That I have broken free from the shackles of mediocracy pulling me down to earth. That, as part of this new and ever expanding family that I have come to love and cherish with all heart, I shed my former self and spread my wings, joining those in flight above people of the norm.

I cannot express adequately how much I am both grateful to running and those who helped me in my endeavours. To those who continue to make me desire to be part of the crazy, hectic lifestyle of the perfect "athlete" I bid good fortune to you and your family for many generations to come. For it is you that makes me proud to say in the face of the always cruel, shunning world:

I am a runner.
I am perfectly insane.


Always yours,
Jordan Buencamino

A Blog about The Blog

blog-noun -a personal chronological log of thoughts published on a Web page

Close enough.
To me the blog is a place to let loose the built up, caged, restricted, held back, unsaid, unheard, or otherwise untold feelings and emotions where in today's society would cruise in one earhole and come out the other at a top speed of Mach 4.

Whereas the average human's attention span is about 20 minutes, the amount of time to fully express the confound workings of a fully functional, emotional and feeling mind would take the lifetimes of every tapioca slurping, wisdom filled tenants of a retirement home well past its own max occupancy.

I can beg, plead, adjure, desire, and fight as much as I want, but most of the abstract and materially minded creatures that roam in Vans and Hollister will but hear me and move on in their droll, possession-dictated lives.

However, if you ever feel the need to escape the rat race, the usual routine, or other nicknames you have thus made for the entrapment of the usual prospects in daily life, venture into my mental haven, paradise, utopia, in which maybe, just maybe, you can reach a level of enlightenment only to be matched in a book with gold leaf paper, preached to people en masse every Sunday of every week of every month, so on and so forth.

If you decide to cross this threshold, I ask of but a favor singular in nature.

Don't hear me: Listen to me.