It’s been 516 days since I left the security of my job.
516 days since I drove away in my car containing all the physical items that I had not sold or donated, and embarked on a ~2000 mile trek.
Driving the first 100 miles was really exciting!
The next 100 miles were riddled with doubts and anxieties. What am I doing? What if everything isn’t great? What if I fail?
Then, the following 200+ miles were sorta numb, just silently driving.
I got to my motel after dark.
From the road it looked like a location where murder-suicides might happen regularly, but the husband and wife that ran the place were absolutely wonderful, and my room was cozy. I ate the food I’d packed for myself, (I was traveling on the cheap) looked over the route for the next few days, took a shower, and then had a great night of sleep. I woke up early the next day, got to see the sunrise while I ate the complimentary breakfast, and somehow that magical motel waffle banished my anxieties!
The following 500+ days of life have been a unique and challenging time, while also being fun, terrifying and exciting.
My Web-Dev Bootcamp training/education
The term “Bootcamp” is synonymous with “tough-as-hell” and that was my experience with this program. I know that people who have gone through an actual military bootcamp will scoff at me comparing these two. My bootcamp did not have drill sergeants yelling at me while I crawled through mud, 3am dark & rainy trail runs, or midnight pushups on the beach while waves crashed into my face. (I know all of this from movies)
I assume that my web-dev ‘bootcamp’ experience was very similar to what other people have experienced. Basically, it starts with confusion, then struggling to understand, blindly trying something, searching the internet for help, cry, try again, start to ‘get it’… then immediately the curriculum moves on to the next topic.
My “Bootcamp” experience felt a lot like the triathlon I did in 2019.
You are standing there in a big group, shivering on the shore waiting for the race to start, feeling unprepared. The whistle blows and everyone starts running down the sand and into the water. Water, feet and arms everywhere. At some point you feel disoriented, you look for the buoys... you finally spot a buoy and then you realize how slow you are going compared to some of the other swimmers. Someone in a kayak paddles over to you to make sure you aren't drowning. You assure them that you are okay, you are just a bit slow. They reluctantly paddle away, but they don’t go very far. You keep swimming, you’ve made it past one buoy, you are excited! You feel accomplished! Then your muscles start to feel very weak. You keep swimming, the choppy water relentlessly pummeling you in the face so you can’t get a good breath of air. You round the next buoy, the swim is more than half way over. The man in the kayak returns to check on you. You thank him for his concern, assure him you are fine and keep on swimming. The shore slowly begins to feel within reach. Muscles straining, but still working. Your feet finally feel the seafloor, you made it. You did not drown, you step out of the water feeling exhausted, but also amazing.
It’s at that point you remember that this is only one part of this Goliath race.
You begin to jog, barefoot, towards your bicycle parked up the hill. You do your best to clean off your feet and get your shoes on. After swimming all that way, telling your muscles to start biking is a challenge. For the first few moments you feel incapable of operating a bicycle, but eventually you get into a groove and you are off, soaking wet and soaring onto the race course. The hills are intense, but predictable. You push your way up, gasping for breath, then coast down only to be greeted by the next incline around the bend. When things seem a little too easy you start to worry whether you installed your front wheel correctly, or what you should do if your brakes fail. It’s long, lots of miles, but every rotation of the pedals gets you closer and closer. The end is near, but your quadriceps are burning!
You pull into the bike area, and then immediately start running.
Just then, the July sun decides to come out and scorch the earth! You are running on fumes, but somehow you have just enough energy to put one foot in front of the other. Running, running, running. Water stations along the way give you a boost of hydration, as well as a little extra confidence. About half way through the run, it starts to feel like a slog. To push-on is all mental. It seems crazy to keep going, but you do. There are hills, the occasional spot of shade, then hot direct sunlight searing you.
Then amazingly, just when you start to feel like giving-up someone is there to cheer you on. Random people along the route clapping, smiling, maybe holding up a sign or ringing a bell. You wave at them, you smile and keep going.
And then, the finish line miraculously emerges from behind a thicket of trees. You use the last bit of energy you possess to finish up what you started. You cross that finish line, they place that medal around your neck, hand you a banana and corral you into an area with hundreds of other sweaty participants.
It’s exciting, but you are tired. They have a band playing and other frivolities, but you just want to go find your bike, sit down for a few minutes and be with your thoughts. You know that you still have to round up everything, get everything to your car, dismantle your bike so you can transport it and then drive 45 minutes home. Once you get home it’s unpacking, getting cleaned up, getting some nourishment into your system and then probably going to bed at 5pm.
Ultimately, finishing is great, but sorta anticlimactic. You know that the struggle will continue on. You're moving from the Triathlon of learning web-development directly into the ultra-marathon of job hunting, interview preparation and learning more.
It is not easy.
I write this as I am about to step over the “finish line” of my 7-month ulta-marathon of job hunting. It’s exciting, but at the same point I am taking this step with caution. The role is a temporary contract position, it might last for a while, or it might end without much notice if funding runs low. I know that I will end up back here at some point to start the job-hunt again.
The silver lining, (there is always a silver lining!) is that when that time comes, I will no longer be looking for my first software engineering role. I will be coming to interviews with actual experience on my resume and stories to tell about my contributions and involvement while working on a dev team.
So, I want to say thanks to the company that decided to take a chance on me.
“Thanks Company! I will do my best!”
I'd also like to thank the people that cheered me on along the way.
"Thanks, y'all are the best!"
One extra shoutout to my biggest supporter...
"Dear Favorite Person,
You are the reason I am able to write this blog post. Thanks for everything!"
Cover Photo by Jon Del Rivero on Unsplash
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