I am not going back to school

Back in possibly December, I mentioned that I was applying to a graduate program at the college where I work. One of the major major perks of working at a college is, of course, free tuition! I'm pretty smart (i.e. I know some big words and don't cross the street into traffic) but I've never been much of a school person. However, I'm much older than I was during undergrad, and felt this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
During my first year of work, I'd been deliberating over which program I wanted to pursue, and ultimately decided to go for my first choice, Publishing & Writing. This was risky on a couple levels. First off, this program is the most selective in the whole college. Of the 200+ applications they get every year, only 50 or so are admitted each year. Staff doesn't get any preferential treatment in the application process either - we are treated just like any other applicant and have to go through the same process, including recommendation letter, GRE, deposit, etc. I hit several snags in the process, including taking the GRE in a massive snowstorm, not thinking I was going to be able to get recommendation letters in on time, massive writer's block while writing my essay, and realizing via my transcripts that I failed Community Chorus sophomore year of college. Yep. I'd thought that was just some sort of bad recurring dream that I stopped going to a class and forgot to drop it. Not so much. Totally real.
Despite all of that, I managed to make it onto the waitlist in May. However, this past Tuesday I got the little ol' rejection letter. Wah wahhhhh.
I don't feel so bad about it, really. I tried, and I tried HARD. And I'll try again, I think. I can only take three graduate classes before I have to "matriculate or go home", and I've only taken one, so I've got the next year to dig in, get some As, and BFF it up with some of the professors in the department. So that's that.
I'm half going back to school, so I'm half running a marathon.

Yesterday did 4x400 @ 8:20/mile on the treadmill, then out to my friends' new house in the 'burbs to knock down some sheetrock. Which was AWESOME. Who knew I was so great at demolition?
This is why I work out/train/exercise, whatever you want to call it. So I'm the first person my friends think of when they need to knock down a wall. So that my hands are calloused enough from kettlebell swings that I can hold onto a crowbar without wincing and putting on gloves. So that I can knock down an entire wall in the time it takes both my friends to knock down half the same size wall. And so that afterwards, I can confidently walk into the Chinese restaurant down the street wearing jorts and a Doug Mirabelli t-shirt and order two scorpion bowls and still make it to work at 8am.