Jonathan Meyer.

Some of my favorite weeks of the year are the ones when classes finally pause. Last week was one of those rare stretches where I could settle into my own rhythm and spend time in my happy place. From laying low to a three-day track bender, it felt like a week where I actually got things done.

My break started with a drive to the Eastern Iowa Airport, dropping off my roommate, Chris. After a long semester, the road felt especially refreshing. We sipped coffee and talked about what the week had in store–he was heading back to California for some much-needed time with family, while I was staying put, ready for a different kind of reset.

After a quick hug goodbye, he disappeared into the terminal. I turned back toward the car, suddenly aware that the week ahead was entirely mine.

The next few days were filled with yard work–something I didn’t realize I missed until I was doing it again. There’s something satisfying about mowing your own lawn, about getting those lines just right. At school, I catch myself critiquing the grounds crew more than I probably should. Being back home, though, I could finally take control. Even pulling weeds–tedious as it is–felt grounding in a way that’s hard to explain.

Monday brought a change of pace. My girlfriend, Amber, came to visit, and I got to do one of my favorite things: show someone my home. There’s a pride that comes with that, a quiet excitement in pointing out the places that shaped you.

We made our way through Tama-Toledo, starting with coffee at the casino before heading over to the newspaper office. Mike was there, and as my worlds started to overlap–home, work, relationships–I felt a strange sense of chaos. But it wasn’t overwhelming. If anything, it was comforting–maybe even exciting.

The rest of the day took us to El Cerrito for lunch and Murph’s for ice cream. Simple stops, but the kind that matter. I’d like to think the community made a good impression on her.

After Amber left, things slowed down again for a bit before I headed to the Drake Relays in Des Moines. From Thursday through Saturday, my world revolved around the media room–a special place, formerly a storage closet–where local writers, big time sportswriters, and running media all come together to cover one of the most unique events in track and field.

I found myself sitting across from the RunnerSpace crew, with other familiar faces just a table away–people I’ve seen at Drake and state track year after year. It was refreshing to be around people who understand and appreciate the sport at the same level, if not more, than I do. At one point, I caught myself thinking, how lucky am I?

I watched great races, saw impressive performances, connected with friends new and old, and most importantly, supported our local newspaper.

Now I’m back at school, finishing out May Term. But I’m holding onto that week–the pace of it, the people, the feeling–as long as I can.

Until summer break, I’m Just Jonathan.