This weekend I ran a cross-country race, and I’ll be honest — I wasn’t happy with how I did. The heat was awful. Eighty degrees. Humid. The kind of weather that makes every breath feel heavy. That’s something I can’t control. All I can control is myself — my training, my mindset, my preparation. Still, when things don’t go the way you want, it’s easy to feel the sting of disappointment.

That thought got me reflecting on more than just one race. My coach, Ryan Chapman, once told me, “Jon, you have such highs and lows in your life, and I think you’re gonna find some success when you have some balance.” He wasn’t wrong. I’m no Buddha searching for enlightenment, but I’ve been trying to take his advice to heart.

Since coming back to campus a month ago (crazy to think it’s already been that long), I’ve found myself telling people about my summer. I talk about the adventures of having an office, covering a first-degree murder trial, running 5Ks, traveling across the country to places I’d never been, grinding through long workdays, and logging even longer miles on the road. Hearing it all out loud, I realize I really do live a life of high highs and low lows.

Some moments I’ve cherished. Others I dreaded. Some days I feel on top of the world, and other days I feel like the world is piling on top of me. I’m not trying to sound like a victim here — but perspective matters. Being a reporter, I’ve learned that. The highs are unforgettable: the stories that make you smile, the people who inspire you. The lows, on the other hand, are the tragedies you wish you could erase but instead must write down, share with the community, and hope that telling the story helps someone else begin to heal.

Lately, I’ve noticed my columns lean philosophical, like I’m trying to piece together life’s broader picture. Maybe that’s because life itself demands balance — in racing, in reporting, and in living. Highs and lows are natural, but learning how to run steady through them? That might be the real finish line.

Through life’s highs and lows, I’m just Jonathan.