Dear Penn State....I've been here 26 years.

Dear Penn State,

It's kinda hard to explain to everyone else. How I feel about living in this town and with it, your shadow. I like to prefer to keep my answers pretty concise and generic about growing up and living here.

"It's a great time, but I've been here a while"
"It's quaint."
"It's happy.",
"No place like it."
"You can have a blast and make memories upon memories"
"It's simple"
"I have never minded living here."


Being young in this town is town has always been easy. Possibly easier than breathing. It is consistently being reloaded with 18 year-olds. And good ones. You are for all intensive purposes a very large and very competitive university that is well respected across the country. I was born into an oasis.

The flux of youth and passion infiltrates everything, starting with the public school system and ending with retired alumni, who come back, sometimes years later to remember a certain period of time when they were immortal.

In the beginning it starts with student teachers, our administrators, our athletics, had some echo of Penn State to it. By the end of first grade I understood that you were the king of this town.

For many football (An extremely large part of the your culture) was a love/hate relationship. I would venture to say that most loved it, but there was always a certain backlash due to so many people in the area gushing over anything the team did. Think of something that was popular that you yourself hated. Usually everyone has something, maybe a rock band or television show. I ended up loving it, and I must confess you had a lot to do with that, even though I became a fan of Michigan rather than yourself for athletic purposes. Sorry about that.

On the educational side, we as an academic class were expected to make it into your halls. Minimum. This is not exactly the easiest thing in the world. Thousands of applications are denied by you, but somehow, being from this town, we were expected to get into the school. Yes we had a reputation somewhat of a great high school, a very competitive high school, but I wonder sometimes if that competition was so intense it burns out stars before they're quite ready to bloom.

To me, and I know I'm not alone on this, it gave me the impression the a Penn State education was somewhat mediocre. If we weren't at the top of our classes and headed to different prestigious universities, or accepted into the Penn State Schreyer's Honors College we were 'doomed' to 'just' a Penn State education. Clearly a warped point of view when held in the grand scheme of things.

Socially you never seemed to impact me in high school. A town that has been known as a party area did not actually make the high school a bunch of alcoholics and stoner's in Junior High. Yes some people did get exposed to drugs, alcohol and sex earlier than others but probably no different than any other high school, and considering that just blocks from the high school itself raging parties held by older brothers and sister's were happening all the time I'm actually somewhat impressed that our class held together so well.

Though this changes when I actually begin attending your classes and living in your rooms.

This is when I actually get the label of towny or local, or whatever term you like. I was raised here, I went to school here as well, and now for the first time those qualities put together to make me a minority.

We are also now looked at for a little guidance by our new contemporaries as we more than likely have a better grasp of the town. We know the town well, (Actually, I didn't and to some degree still don't, thus me continually sucking at directions). We can give background knowledge about frat houses and sororities. How to go about getting good football tickets. We feel as though we owe it to the kids that are new in the area to be their reference and guide.

However, I begin to grow exponentially in this age range in both emotion and maturity. I begin to find myself in relationship to bigger pictures and I eventually forget where I am from. I become lost in the world that is Penn State and not State College. And I do this in no different a manner than that of our other 'non-townie' friends. And possibly forever our youths is cemented at this time.

I think most people, regardless of circumstances would say that the peak of their "youth" occurs in this 18-22 year age range. Not necessarily the best parts of their life mind you, but of that feeling of innocence and wonder peaking and eventually slowly coming into larger conclusions about how the world works at large. We were young and invincible and it wasn't going to end. Just like everyone else.

And then....

It doesn't end

While others for one reason or another must leave this town, be it a job, a girlfriend or boyfriend, parents, or affordability...

I do not.

I could stay here forever and stay in touch with my young side forever. Stay in the mindset of a 22 year old and be happy. I could stay by your side and keep my mind in a state of youth and curiosity. I could stay invincible.

But I would most likely regret it.

Because while I have learned an unfathomable amount of knowledge in your shadow, Dear Old State, there is infinitely more beyond it.

And maybe I'll come back. I'm not burning the bridge. I just feel like crossing.

For Fans of the Blog

So I'm thinking sometimes I won't post all my entries on facebook. Some will just be for me and for the people that want to know what I'm feeling or posting about. This is a poem (could easily be made a song if i could play a god damn instrument) about a girl that you're feeling. Yah, it's sappy as fuck, but it's still good.


When it comes to heaven
I don't see a light
All I see is you

When it comes to dreams
I don't see the night
It's only ever you

Would rather leave
Than ever lose
Do anything I could
To just be with you

When it comes to heaven
I just see you
When it comes to dreams
It's always you.

Only you

The Running of The Baney

As some of you know, I recently completed a relay marathon called the mOUnTaiN BACK (notice the capital letters spelling out 'Out 'n' Back'....kinda clever, kinda corny). This basically the story of that race.

When my friend Pig initially asked me about it, I was a bit hesitant. I had been running on a pretty frequent basis during the summer, but I certainly didn't think it was an extreme distance by any means and he used the word 'marathon' which I usually associate with 'Go Fuck Yourself'

As he described it, and I found that it would not be an actual marathon (Unless you chose go as a team of two) and the distances would not be that different from what I was already doing.

Except for the climb.

Previous to this I'd always run in a loop, so that my start point and end point were the same. So even if I had up hill parts on the journey i would just as much down hill to make up for it. This would be different. There would be in both of my 5.5 mile legs, a tremendous ascent. Over 1700 feet in total.

If that number doesn't really mean anything to you, it didn't for me either. I know that I go up and down elevations, but I had no idea how to exactly quantify it.

So in order to both prepare for the hills and still keep my loop for training purposes, I would just find as many steep hills as possible and go up them. Often failing on my first attempts and having to walk up the steepest points, but eventually I would gain enough strength to run my entire 6 mile loop with ''relative' ease. (Though I admit, it's not an easy activity to run that much.)

After a few months of training and dieting, race day was upon us. I thought I was pretty much prepared. With one exception.

Through all my prior running activities, I had my Ipod handy. The idea of running with no music seems torturous to me. I find that music can make it easy to facilitate motivation to keep running, often losing myself in the sound and words and paying no mind to the constant repetition of my feet and breathing patterns.

Today there would be no music devices, as they race managers deemed them a safety hazard due to constant traffic. A valid point I guess, but still a huge let down.

When I begin my leg of the run, my mind takes over. I decide to push early since the adrenaline won't let me do anything other than go at a brisker pace than I usually take. My mind is wandering, unfocused and pretty much uninterested in the race as a whole. It isn't until about 15 minutes into the run that I actually begin to enjoy myself and can keep the negative thoughts about being bored and tired away.

What thoughts replace them? Well, mostly those about not letting down my team, myself, and doing something that in the end I know I will feel better for doing.

As I move over the early stretch of flat land I'm conscious of the fact that eventually a steep clime will over the entire second half of the leg and need to keep some energy in the reserves for that reason, but eventually I begin encountering other runners and my competitive instincts kick.

I now am driven to be catch people and to not be caught. It's not something that I'm loud or boastful about, but now I'm running on confidence, I'm running like I want to be better than everyone else. Even though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a 'great' or 'elite' runner (I still couldn't do a Marathon) on this day I had my mind made up to be the very best I could be. I feel invincible.

I am trailing two guys that I plan to catch, I'm chasing, not too hard to go out of my way, but I'm sure I'm going to catch them. Then we turn the corner and I see the mountain path that we're about to take and immediately slow my pace.

The best way to describe what I'm seeing is a mountain side, with it's peak as yet beyond my sights. Like running up a ski slope in summer, except you started at a point where you have no idea when the end point is.

Now the two guys that are still running, and have not stopped, they are completely trekking the mountain without slowing their pace. I cannot. I have to go to a fast walking pace to catch my breath. This, in my own mind is a huge let down. I didn't want to slow, I wanted to run the whole thing, prove my metal and dominate like I thought I should. However my body refused to respond.

Now, knowing the other runners were out of reach, my focus returned to the fact that I had no desire to get caught. I picked up my pace again, hoping to reach the flat end of the first leg.

And then I can hear the crowd and the finish. I can tell they are just around the corner, and something inside me just breaks and I push as hard as I possibly can. I am no longer jogging, I am sprinting to the end, even though my lungs are pushed and my legs are burning. The sensation felt amazing, as though everyone understood exactly what I had gone through (In fact many had) and their cheers just made me want to finish that much more.

As I handed the baton to my teammate (who was rushed a little bit due to the fact that he had just finished...well, let's just say he need to drop some weight real quick). My teammates surrounded me and cheered as I began coughing uncontrollably. It was euphoric. Even though I spent the next 5 minutes catching my breath and attempting to stop coughing I couldn't have been happier.

When I began the second leg, the same scenario unfolded. I would push myself past competitors, leaving no doubt in myself that I couldn't be stopped, a feeling of invincibility would take hold and push me all the way to base of my last hill.

Unlike the last time I had no illusions of running the whole thing. My legs felt like jelly at this point, making the climb would be impossible without taking time walk.

However...

Knowing this was the last leg, knowing full well after this event there would be no other event I was counted on for, and also seeing someone behind me and making an effort to catch me, I knew I had to go harder. To push beyond my own limits to make sure I had nothing left and to leave this experience knowing I gave all that I could.

As the last half mile marker signaled my proximity to the finish I felt a flush of energy come over. I was almost there, I was going to finish, and I wanted to finish strong. Again sprinting as best I could to the end.

After my final baton exchange, I coughed for probably the better part of 15 minutes nearly throwing up at one point (I have exercise induced asthma, which affects me only after the event is complete.) Yet I could not feel better. The amount of drive exerted made me feel absolutely fantastic. The feeling of camaraderie with my other teammates, the fact that my family and friends were there to cheer me on honestly helped shape and made the high of the aftermath.

All in all, it was a tremendous experience, one I would like to have again.

And if YOU are interested....I'll be doing the Tough Mudder event on April 10th, and teammates would be awesome.

Randy Moss. The Conspiracy Theory

This only works if he resigns with the Pats by the way. Which I believe is a possibility.

Imagine you're Bill Belichick. Which means, imagine you're an asshole. You coach the Patriots, you've won three rings, but later it's revealed that you cheated by a whistle blower, (damn you Mangeni). You lost draft picks for this, but in essence you got to keep you're wins and super bowls because you have the Golden Goose that is Thomas Edward 'Tom' Brady, Jr.

The team is doing well and all, but what if you could get one over in the league? Well...

Well, how about you trade a talented, but known mouthy wide receiver for decent value, have him play mediocre to terrible against you (aka...throw the game). Have him then have hold a presser saying how much he loves the other team and hates it in Minnesota and takes NO questions about how he felt about only catching the ball ONE time for 8 yards.

Not only that, but what if Childress privatly called him out on it? He noticed him loafing, saw that he was uncommited and possibly...THROWING A GAME) This would be disastrous knowledge for Childress, it would turn the sport on it's head if it were true, and brew a firestorm that would make the ref scandal in the NBA look a fluff story. So you bite it and just cut the guy.

Now the only teams that would actually pursue him would be a contending team, but how much would a contending team actually pay a player to just be a terrible distraction? Think about it. You're the Steelers, another explosive weapon like Moss would be welcomed...except it's Randy Moss, he can be a locker room cancer, he plays when he wants. And he doesn't want to play for you....he clearly wants to play for the Pats. Even a crap team or young and uprising team wouldn't want to pay him just keep him from the Pats.

Knowing this, all teams pass allowing New England to pick his ass back up, having gained a third round pick and a win against a quality opponent (the Vikings) while weakening a team that was thought to be a super bowl contender.

He comes back to the team, knowing they pulled a fast one over the NFL, win the title laughing all the way.

Remember, you're Bill Belichick, you're a cheating asshole, you got caught cheating before. But everyone loved seeing Brady crush defenses he saw coming, so we just said fuck it.

This clearly works only if the Pats do resign him. He's still a talented player, so if he says he wants to play anywhere, he'll get picked up, but so far all we can tell is that he really wants to go back to New England. There is a possiblitly a contender could pick him up (say...the Jets) not play him or hold him out of practice, and basically pay him to NOT play for Pats...but who knows.

Again this is just a conspiracy in theory only. I certainly offer no evidence other than what I've heard and seen on media outlets. But it is kinda neat I think, even if it ends up being completely wrong.