day 216: identity crisis

The name of my blog does not capture the exothermic energy of my adventurous life. It is static, passive, only looking, noticing from its anonymous perch.

Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.

— T.S. Eliot, from East Coker

I was searching for where I was: here, there? I was searching for who I was.

And the name, dawn points, was fitting. I observed myself. I transcribed my thoughts. I criticized my interface and interactions. I perturbed the world about me. My spirit, my body, and my understanding of others: these were my subjects of inspection, these my mysteries to unravel.

But in this unraveling I’ve changed. This record has changed. No longer is it a series of odes to what has been or what should be. Nary will you find a wretched outburst at my thoughts, my character, my appearance, myself. Despair has fled. And I, having observed, now live.

I fling off Schrödinger’s cloak, hopelessly entangled in suspended possibilities. I am the cat. I am alive. I am dead. I am alive.

Have I found myself? Once the focus of my reasoning, the question is now but a dust mote; admired for a moment when the sun is just so.

I am not trying to find myself. I am becoming myself.

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

–J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Thusly, in the coming weeks I shall name my blog anew. Redirections will be simple. The journey continues.

wod: 200m run between each: 1 snatch, 10 kb swings, 2 snatches, 20 kb swings, 3 snatches, 20 kb swings, 2 snatches, 10 kb swings, 1 snatch. #70 snatches, #35 kb swings, finished in 14:30.

mcat: acids and bases



day 215: zoology

The morning began with an alarm: early church then NoSo for work and study and sweet sweet coffee. And bacon. We set out with a mission: stealth knowledge acquisition. And people watching. We waved at the children, blowed bubbles at the babies, awwwwed at the old folk and stalked Korean/Japanese hipsters. All while understanding information on equilibrium and lock gears that eluded us through the week.

In the middle of our NoSo antics, I said to A: “let’s ride our bikes to the zoo sometime.” Five minutes later, la’M calls and says “let’s go to the zoo!” So I threw away my plans to GWOD (100 pushups, 100 v-ups, snatches and ohss as I got tired) and set off on a zoological survey.


la’M was perched atop a baby bear cub encased in stone. No no just a sculpture but it was still fairly lifelike. I had plans to climb atop its back but the height deterred me. In addition to carved rocks and triceratops-look-alikes we saw elephants and cheetahs and otters and sea lions and gazelle and zebra and vultures and cheetahs again. My pictures of the animals are nothing much to see. But my pictures of these pictures are pretty epic.

Part supérieur


Part inférieur


Five of us in a photo booth, acting like a pride of lions. These are the crazy hazy lazy days of summer.

24 hours that are easy like a Sunday morning. It’s been all smiles on this girl’s cheeks. Now for a little more research, a little more reflection, and a lot of rest for this week’s adventures.


p.s. Also my husband loves sprinkles. Who knew?

day 214: morning glory

My forced change in schedule has allowed me an opportunity I’ve not seen enjoyed Notre Dame: a continued sequence of mornings well- and freely-spent.

Monday through Friday, I wake with excitement for what I’ll face: labored breathing, a bath in fresh sweat, dirt smeared across my chest, legs shaking with exertion.

Saturday and Sunday, the boom and I stroll about, reveling in the fresh air and the new sun.

These are not so different from my summers of dawn patrol in Hawaii, or my runs around Oxford and the lakes.

My mornings are now as they should be: facing hope, facing life, facing glory.

KT, dawntreader,


day 213: rearranging

Have you ever played the game “rush hour”? With the little plastic trucks and cars and taxi cabs, all stuck in a little box?

We rush hour-ed our chair today. Flipping the bed, shifting the dresser, moving the mirror and finally squeezing the block of the chair through the narrow door. It just barely made it.

Did you know that ancient Greeks thought gold was made from water and sunshine? If so I’d want so so so much of it. In actuality, I find it to be ugly. Having to wear it makes me shudder. What chain of events let me despise chains of Au?

Irrelevant. Water and sunshine. The perfect combination for a happy life.

The boom and I are vegging out on the couch.

Happiness runs in a circular motion ;)





day 211: screen time

scream time.
whoops, slip of the figurative tongue.
Seriously though, I could scream at the amount of time I spend in front of some sort of screen. My obsession is not limited to work hours or even hours inside. No, I take my screen with me everywhere — in the car, driving in the car, on walks with boom, in bed…it’s reeeeeeeeediculous.
I’m killing myself. I’m killing my soul. It’s dying in the bright blue light of screens. Television screens, computer screens, itty-bitty iPhone screens. The least I could do is get off them when I don’t have to be on them. How many hours have I wasted just looking for something interesting to surf? The idea of the number depresses me; if I somehow could know the actual number, I would likely sob, my heart sinking right through the soles of my feet straight to China.
Why? Because every minute I spend looking at a screen when it’s not for work or research or real wholesome correspondence is a minute spent lifeless. It’s a minute I’m not playing with the boom, it’s a minute I’m not studying for my career, it’s a minute I’m not working on mobility and Oly technique. It’s a minute I’m not swiffing to make A’s life just a little be easier. It’s a minute I’m not doing the things I really and truly enjoy doing: bettering myself, being outside, reading, thinking hard about life.
I’ve had a long life so far. But have I made it deep? Have I made it wide? Have I made it colorful and musical and brimming with love? No, not as much as I could have. But I still have a chance to make it so as much as I can.
I can. I can. I can.
And I will.