Un-Catholic School

Irony, while often amusing, may sometimes lend itself to tense or disquieting situations. For a handful of my fellow teachers and I, this school year offers us all three elements. Despite being a public-charter school, we find ourselves occupying a portion of a defunct Catholic school in an active, Catholic church.

In theory, this situation should not be overly uncomfortable. Catholics in the urban, Midwestern United States tend to be a bit more progressive. Most posses a strong concern for social justice and community improvement. And, given the dwindling numbers of parishoners, they are eager to formulate non-traditional partnerships.

Such would appear to be the case with my school and our new, Catholic landlords. They signed a lease with our organization with the full understanding that we would, in theory and practice, operate as a public school. Any leftover religious icons, artifacts, statements, et cetera would need to be removed from our operational areas, and the church itself could not run any form of "mission" within our school.

Yet, right now, our portion of the building remains uninhabitable due to code issues. This led to our use of "donated" space in other areas. While few parishoners have been outright rude (some have), the tension has been obvious on both sides.

Marine Fit - The Start

Every now and then, we all lose a bit of focus on our health. It could be our emotional health, fiscal health, physical health, or some combination of such that challenges us. Personally, the last few months proved very trying in all areas. Having to deal with a volatile year ending in a forced resignation from my old school and delays in starting my new job led to numerous problems. I drank too much. I slept too little. I neglected nutrition and exercise. As I tapped into savings and student loans to make ends meet, very little mattered other than not driving myself insane.

My new job began a couple of weeks ago, and I've begun to regain some semblance of fiscal and emotional balance. However, my health is another story. 

A year and a half ago, at age 29, I weighed 157 pounds with a 31.5" waist (I'm 5'10"), and I easily conquered a half-marathon on my way to training for a full marathon.

Running in a full marathon never materialized. The downward spiral started, and I found little motivation to stop the slide. I can't run three miles without my lungs screaming for relief, and my gym time is laughable. 

Luckily, with my new job has come a new awareness of my whole self. Thus, now is the time to get back to being "Marine Fit."