Published Apr 22, 2006

This morning I got up early and fought my way through LA Freeway accident traffic and several packed-full parking lots to sit in front of over 100 prospective members of the class of 2008 (n.b. grammarians — “over” = “more than” dates back over/more than 400 years) and talk about my business school experiences. Apparently someone was deluded enough to think that I’d say good, positive things that would make these desirable admits come to school.

Well, apart from my statement that “everything’s curved to a B+ during your first year, so unless you’re exceptionally lazy or stupid you’ll end up fine” I think I did ok. And, well, that’s actually true so I can’t be accused of lying. I guess I was worried that the first-years this year seem to be exceptionally worried about working hard and getting good grades, while they really should be taking advantage of all of the opportunities that Marshall has to offer. Given the good questions of this morning’s group, I have a feeling that the class of ‘08 will both contribute a tremendous amount to the community and take a great deal away from their Marshall experience.

But it made me think about all that I’ve really taken away from Marshall. Pardon me for a moment while I’m a bit sappy, but I’m starting to realize how much I’ve changed — and how much my hopes and dreams have changed — from three years ago, when I decided to leave Runstrong and then, later, to go to b-school; and also to realize how much things will change in the next few years, as I put what I’ve learned into action in an entrepreneurial venture, and in the years beyond that, as I take what is in many ways a new me into a new life and a new set of aspirations.

The neurons are just starting to turn over on all this, so I’m sure you’ll see me blog a lot more on this topic in the next few weeks. But at the moment I feel much like — well, I was going to say that moment when you break out of the Grapevine, headed north, and see nothing but open ground in front of you, but I’m really not talking about scorched earth, so what I really mean is something more like when you get out past Frederick on 70 headed West and there’s just the trees and the Appalachians around you and the world is green and bright and you’re headed for West Virginia and…

Wait, screw it, I clearly don’t have a good road trip metaphor. But I do feel I’m hurtling ahead, faster every day, towards an exciting new place; also the trip there will be exciting and worth it in itself. So long as I didn’t run over too many first-years telling them not to worry about class and to participate in clubs and activities and go to special speeches and things like that.

Teams. I should’ve told them something about how good the teams are at Marshall too. Can I have a do-over?