When Tom was laid off, several years ago, 110% of his time was invested in his job search. Workshops, PMP Certification, networking, and applying for the various jobs took over his every minute. I’m not exaggerating. He hardly made time to sleep. I’d come downstairs at 1 am to find him searching his mind for the right word to make his cover letter stand out from the rest.
I didn’t understand the pressure he was under. I couldn’t understand how, or why, his marathon training for Big Sur could get so derailed. It was derailed – Badly! We’d trained together for months but, on race day, he did not start.
From the outside, I saw that he had even more time to dedicate to his marathon training. I figured that he could get it done far easier than when he was working. But I was wrong. His need to be in the work force, and the lack of available jobs in silicon valley was a sad reality. He kept it up for 18 months before he finally landed the job that allowed his career to take off again.
Now, from the position of being the sole provider for the family, my need to remain in the work force is critical. I find myself becoming absorbed in workshops on resume building, interviewing strategies, and other classes to perfect my ability to land a new job. It doesn’t end there.
As I try to balance it all with work, my marathon training has been forced to shift – again. My juggling skills were called into action again, this week, as I tried to do it all. My responsibilities took precidence, as they should: shopping, preparing dinner, homework kick-starting, and FINALLY my run.
The run from my house to the local high school track served as a easy (1 mile) warm up. I hit the track and immediately began my first of five 1-mile intervals. It would be a race against the sun and the sky was already getting dim.
Garminia crapped out on me after about two laps. I watched the time and adapted to not being able to see the pace reading on Garminia’s face. I was within *my* range (which was only 10 seconds longer than Coach’s).
A lean, male runner got right on my heels during my second 1-mile interval. I am sure he overheard me talking to myself. I was whispering sweet nothings to myself to the effect of: “Keep it up,” “Don’t give up,” and “Just this lap. You are only running *this* lap right now.” He resisted the urge to pass me, running right beside me for over two laps, and all the way to the line. When I finished, he said, “nice job” and was off at his own pace.
He disappeared somewhere between my forth and fifth interval. In fact, all of the faces at the track had changed by the time I left. I jogged home, happy to have completed the workout before darkness hit, and ready to begin revamping my resume.
I am happy to give 110%…but I won’t give all of it to my job search. At least not until the marathon has been run.