The Day I Finally Lost It...

This particular post has a soundtrack. For the full experience, please listen to this in the background while reading. Jenny, I know you're sick of 311, but even you. ;)

311 - Unity

You know those videos online of those office workers going completely berserk and beating up coworkers or smashing their computers and printers?

Well, that was me today.

Almost.

The other day my sweet wife told me that she really wants me to find a job that comes more naturally to me. She knows better than anyone how poorly I fit into this office environment. She knows I should be outside, getting dirty and working with my hands or something along those lines.

Today, sitting at my desk I had the closest thing to a panic attack I think I've ever felt. I have never been claustrophobic but I could feel the walls of that cubicle actually closing around me.

I had to run, to escape.

Considering my lack of other gainful employment, not to mention the benefits and insurance associated with my current position, I thought it best to simply grab my iPod and keys and walk away for a while, rather than just up and quit my job.

I know it probably sounds a little crazy, but I just ran. I mean, I bolted down the stairs three at a time and as soon as I was outside I just sprinted away from the office. My legs couldn't carry me fast enough.

Within less than a minute I was frantically unlocking my car and before long I was screeching tires out of the parking lot and practically rallying that little Civic toward the closest hill I could find.

I rolled the windows down and cranked the music. I breathed deeply of the fresh air and the farther away I got from my desk, the calmer I became.

Before long I was in the Avenues, east of downtown Salt Lake. I kept climbing, looking for an open road, but instead found a large church parking lot next to a park.

I turned my iPod as loud as it would go and ripped my shirt off as fast as I could. I popped the trunk and clawed aside the tool box and tire iron to get my longboard out.

With "Unity" pumping into my ears, I set off down the first slope on the north side of the parking lot. Immediately I could feel the breeze over my skin and scalp. The grin that peeled apart my lips still hasn't left my face.

It has been a while since I hopped on the board, and my first few pumps were a little awkward and choppy, but before long the rhythm smoothed itself out and I was carving down toward the road. I jumped off the board and picked it up so I could run back up to the top of the parking lot. During my second run I could hear a faint shouting through my music. I turned and saw a man in a shirt and tie standing at the open door of the church.

"You can't do that here!!" he shouted, apparently for the second or third time.

"Sorry," I said, and put my ear bud back in before rolling down to the far side of the parking lot. I picked up my board again and this time ran across the grass to the sidewalk track around the adjacent park.

The grin on my face widened at the "CLACK-CLUNK" sound of my wheels passing over the sidewalk cracks. I crouched as the hill began to slope and the clacks and clunks closed together as my speed increased.

Ahead of me the sidewalk took a sharp turn to the left around the baseball diamond. I was already getting a speed wobble and wasn't sure I'd be able to hang onto the turn. Heelside turns are not my strength on the longboard.

I slid my lead foot forward to even out the wobble and bore down on my heels as the turn approached. I drove downward with my quads and laughed out loud as the sidewalk brushed the fingertips of my left hand. My rear wheels began to break away from the concrete and I was sure I had lost it, but before I knew it I had pulled out of the turn and stood up. I was flying.

Then, a new obstacle arose on the horizon. A woman lying on the grass reading a book. Good for her. And, an elderly man walking a dog toward me on the sidewalk. There was no way I would be able to stop in time, so I did the next best thing and leaned back so I could ease the front left wheel of my board onto the grass. I made it maybe 10 or 15 feet before friction overtook speed and that wheel sunk into the sod. They must have watered last night.

Time stopped and I was airborne. Still wearing my dress pants and work ID badge, I watched in slow motion as the ground passed beneath me. I wrapped my left arm around my waist and began rotating before connecting with the earth. Favoring my left side turned out to be a bad idea. My right shoulder has been sore lately, but I doubt sliding on it would have hurt as much as sliding on my new tattoo did.

And did I slide.

I was laughing hysterically, feeling more alive than I have since my bungee jump. Based on where my board was when I stood up, I must have flown/slid at least 30 feet. My entire left side, from my bare shoulder to the ankle of my dress pants, was stained in green. The stinging in my ribs just added to the euphoria.

I collected my board and did one more run through the church parking lot before tossing it back into the trunk and driving back to work. I could feel the sweat evaporating on my back and chest and the tingle of the grass still clung to my side.

Sitting back at my desk, the cubicle walls don't seem so small anymore. The pile of processed junk food on the team cabinet no longer made me angry. Colors seemed brighter. Water tasted fresher.

It only took about 30 minutes to reclaim my life this morning, and I'm so glad I did. Whether my reaction was a step back toward sanity or farther from it... I don't even know. The funny thing is; I don't really give a shit.