I like to think I'd be running right now.

Had you told me five years ago, heck, probably even two or three, that for my own sake I shouldn't run, I would have said "...'kay, great". I certainly would not have been let down, and I may not have been all that excited because I just didn't run. I was an elliptical gal through and through.

But then I started running because it takes less time (to an extent) and is cheaper than going to the gym. I wasn't phenomenal, but for the first time in my life I ran 4 miles at a time and my pace was less than ten minutes. I recall 5th or 6th grade Ellyn running a mile in 11:01. I learned the joys or actually running outside, running early in the morning, running in the cold (love), and running in the heat (for a reduced distance, usually). I started out with a plan, then abandoned it and didn't run nearly enough for about two months. In June, I got back on the wagon. After about a month I decided some direction was needed, so I consulted the training plan gods and started training for a 15k. On July 7th I set out on the first day on the plan. I pushed myself harder than usual because I was determined to follow through this time. About three minutes from the end of my run, something in my hip...sparked. I don't know how else to describe it. It wasn't a tear or a snap or a pop. I tried to run through it and then it spread to another spot on my hip. So I stopped. And limped home.

The next day I woke up and got ready for work as usual, but by the time I walked out of the alley I couldn't walk any further. I called into work and sat on the couch all morning willing my hip to heal. That evening I was to travel to Green Lake, WI, and had been looking forward to running in the wilderness. I optimistically packed two sets of running clothes just in case. They went unused.

In fact, I haven't run further than it takes to catch a bus or the pedestrian walk signal since then. I went to a bone doctor and even with x-rays he couldn't tell me what was wrong. Just that it didn't seem serious and physical therapy oughta do it. I went to a physical therapist, and she has no idea about the etiology. My progression has been disappointingly slow, though not non-existent. I just have to sit and wait and deal with it and not make it worse.

It sucks. I miss running. The mornings were cool this week and would have been the perfect running temperature. Mornings are nice because no one is out. And I never would have thought I'd say that, but it's true that running just makes you feel wonderful. I'm probably idealizing it, because I know there were days when it was hot and I was tired and the run overall was unimpressive. But I always felt good after. And I guess I was proud, because running accomplishments are measurable. I could say with certainty that I have improved by this much, and I did something today which I couldn't do last week. But now all the stuff I could do before, I can't do anymore.

What's really horrible, is that the injury isn't that bad. It doesn't hurt most of the time, and when it does it's not much. But it's there, just teasing me. I was almost a good runner, and now because of this tiny little strain I have to start all over. No 15k this fall. Goodbye, goals. I read Runner's World and running books and visit running stores; but please don't talk to me about the half-marathon you plan to run, or the great run you just had. Call me whiny, but it's unfair and I want to be fixed now, please.

From Stephen Markley, of RedEye fame.

"Americans enjoy squawking about freedom, yet our economic system is designed to constrain. After college, you get a job immediately because those student loan bills are coming. You dare not do anything interesting because you need health insurance from an employer in our privatized system. You work long hours in a job you don't like, and tell yourself—what? You'll find that dream job? Go back to school and get in more debt? We wonder where the innovators and entrepreneurs have gone: They're all in cubicles trying to pay $700 a month in student loans. And remember, these are the lottery winners in American society, the lucky ones."

Thank you, Mr. Markley.

When I initially read this I had a lot to say, but the article was printed 8 days ago and I've since forgotten my eloquence. Here goes.

I believe that college is a time to take chances, make mistakes, get messy; to discover what you're interested in and what makes you passionate.

Unfortunately, this is all occurring while you and your parents spend hundreds of thousands of dollars. So while you may change a lot, and change your mind a lot, over the years (and from my experience, very few people know what they want to do even after they finish college), well, that's too bad because you've already spent the cash and if you discover you would have rather been a chef or traveled the world, too late. You've got debt to pay off, and experimenting with photography in Spain isn't gonna cut it.

I'm not ungrateful for my education, in fact I chose to continue it into the Master's realm (oddly enough, in the hopes that I would make more money. Will it be enough to pay off what I spent on the degree? We'll see). I know I'm very lucky and despite my debt will be just fine.

But I will admit that I feel trapped in this system. I'm not crazy about the job opportunities available to social workers, yet I will inevitably stick with it because it's safe (as safe as jobs can be these days).

I have this crazy hope that I may have to stick it out in a cubicle for a few years, but eventually I'll make enough connections and prove myself an impressive figure in the world of social work that I'll have my pick of the best jobs and one will be perfectly suited to my interests so that I may find it personally and professionally fulfilling. That's as big as I'm willing to dream.

But really, friends notwithstanding, had I known what I know now, I most certainly would have chosen a public institution over IWU, and I may have even just gone to trade school. I'd probably have made more money.