I am happy with myself

I’ve fought with scales. I’ve stared in the mirror criticizing every imperfection. I’ve cried to Granite about hating how I look. I’ve racked my brain with guilty feelings after indulging.

Self-loathing used to be a part time gig. 

I’m fucking done. 

I had an epiphany. 

When I exercise, I am happy. It doesn’t matter if I gain or lose weight. When engage in physical activities, I feel good about myself. Honestly, that’s all the matters.

For the past six months, I have consciously made time for exercise despite my work and grad school schedules. I’ve created training goals. I value exercise, therefore, I do it. That works for me. Now that I know this, I can end the hate and embrace the progress I’ve made. And that fucking feels really good. 

Grad school has given me the time to work on my doodling skills.

Grad school has given me the time to work on my doodling skills.

That went by fast

Celebrating my 7th anniversary working for the same company. Clearly, this is the longest relationship I have ever committed to. 

I don’t understand people who can only poop at home.

People really do leave work to go home to poop. I never thought this was reality until I met people who have poop agoraphobia. 

There are some races you want to cherish and others you want to immediately forget.

Portland was the latter. I finished despite intense cramps as I passed a very stinky sewage plant at mile 11. That’s when I broke down and stopped giving a shit. Combined with the heat and misery, I trotted across the finish line. As soon as I saw Granite, I started crying. My feet were bloody and sore. I chugged two bottles of water. I was happy that it ended and, now, I can put that race behind me. 

Not every race is a good one. Back to training. 

Our new roommate moved in and with her arrival, we inherited a cat, Cleo. She already owns the place. All flat surfaces are hers. 

She freaks me out when I wake up and find her watching me from her perch.

Our new roommate moved in and with her arrival, we inherited a cat, Cleo. She already owns the place. All flat surfaces are hers.

She freaks me out when I wake up and find her watching me from her perch.

An Open Letter to Asheville

As a northerner, I was psyched to hear about your liberal village of the south. It seemed like a fairytale that such a place would exist. The rolling Blue Ridge Mountains that surround you look vast and massive, like they are the protector of your freethinking microcosm. 

As we drove closer to you, the gratuitous church crosses did not lessen. The gun shops did not diminish. Even though we had already passed the Mason Dixon line, I remained hopeful that deep in the valley of the mountains, you would be my Burlington, Vermont of the south.

Your downtown was flooded with street performers, including a nun on a tall bike providing drive-by baptisms with a squirt gun. Most of the restaurants had what I was hopeful for: fresh produce and pushers of the farm-to-table movement. All your meals were delicious. And the beer, well done, Asheville, well done. I wish we had more time to explore more places to eat and drink. (Places of note: Wicked Weed, Champagne Bar and Book Exchange, and Seven Sows.) 

Your biking trails throughout the Pisgah National Forest were immaculate. Thanks for your variety of easy to challenging trails. I can see why people would want to be mountain biking aficionados here. Your cool summer nights and mornings paired with toasty hot days were glorious. I will say, there is more to life than weather…

Asheville, please don’t pretend you’re a bunch of liberal hippies. Your ‘Asheville, loophole of the Bible Belt’ motto is cute, but it’s not reality. You’re trying and I appreciate that. Please don’t stop trying, but I’m not really sure if that’s what you want? 

I’ve been running and racing for a long time. I have to say, being prayed for before a race is new for me. Reminding me about God and running for God after a race is also a new experience for me. Asking what church I go to boarders on poor boundaries. I just want to run without religion, thanks. 

You’re still in North Carolina and I know paying teachers an adequate salary is not your top priority. I heard some not-so-impressive stories from friends living and working in education. If you don’t value your teachers and education, I worry. That’s a huge red flag for me. Yes, everything is cheaper than the north, but for me, there’s more to life than cheap real estate.

Thanks for beautiful vistas and majestic mountains, Asheville. I enjoyed myself and bring back lots of memories. We can be friends, but I’m no longer interested in moving in you. 

Anonymous said: What was it like for you when you first started running? I tried it for one week and the next week my shins were so sensitive that even brisk walking after a certain distance became painful (limp-worthy).

I am sorry to hear you had such a painful experience with running. I am a firm believer in the right footwear. Go to a good running store, not a sporting goods store, and get your feet measured. Usually the people who work in running specific stores are runners and will help you by looking at your gait, recommending the right shoe, style, etc. (You can always opt to buy them online because it’s often a heck of a lot cheaper). Some stores will let you try them out for a week and then return them if they don’t feel right. 

I’ve been running for years so it’s hard for me remember when I first started and if I had any issues. However, when I first transitioned to a minimalist style sneaker, my calves were sore and tender the first few weeks. I started slow in them, only 1-2 miles then switch into my regular sneakers. That was a little over two years ago. Now, I am running half marathons in them. 

Also, if you’re running on a treadmill a lot, your shins are going to burn. Roads are better for decreasing the likelihood of getting shin splits. And, pending on your gait-heel striking or ball striking, you might be experiencing shin pain. There are some stretches you can do. Check out runnersworld-they usually have some decent articles and training tips about running woes. 

Hope this was helpful and you can get back to running soon! 

So long for now, folks. I have mountain bikes, growlers, and my boy. Headed to Asheville to rip through some new trails and eat my way through the city. And, of course, run a road race. Happy 4th of July everyone. Stay safe. xoxo

So long for now, folks. I have mountain bikes, growlers, and my boy. Headed to Asheville to rip through some new trails and eat my way through the city. And, of course, run a road race. Happy 4th of July everyone. Stay safe. xoxo

old people brawls

My 86 year old grandma needed to vent about her boyfriend, Robert. This is what she’s pissed about:

"Do you know ever since Robert lost his license he now relies on me to take him everywhere. I am not his chauffeur! He wants me to take him to get cigars and out to eat. He does pay his fair share, but I can’t be carting his arse around just because he can’t drive anymore. He has children who can do that!"

Being old and in a relationship must be tough. 

Food is always on my mind

While I’m riding my bike, I often wonder about how satisfying it would be if I could eat, say a sandwich, while cycling and it not be dangerous or messy. 

What to read next…

I hate the feeling when you finish a book and look through your shelves knowing there are a bunch of books you’ve purchased that you can read, but none of them excite you.

Family humor

  • Grandma: I'll jump off a bridge before I go live in a nursing home!
  • Dad: Who's going to drive you to the bridge?

Steady Pace

I am like a shark in the sense that I cannot stop moving or I will die. 

People often say to me, “I think you like being so busy. You probably wouldn’t know what to do with free time if you did have it.” or “Sara will do it. She has bounds of energy.” 

These people are spot on. I like being productive. There is something incredibly satisfying piling up my plate and getting it all done, and done well. I like the rush. I like the challenge. It’s as though I am racing against time.

I do have my limits. Don’t mess with my sleep. Please don’t ask me to do anything past 10pm. Franklin coined, “Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” I am a firm believer of this. 

But, down time….What would I do? When I have a night free, I begin to panic. Should I: bake, cook, run, watch a movie, read? The ideas start unraveling and I don’t know how to just sit. 

Granite told me he would appreciate if I would stop planning so many activities not only for us, but for myself, too. Between running, playing in a rec league for my sport, one grad class, and 40+ hours of work each week, there isn’t much time left for friends, family, and our relationship. 

I’m a work in progress. I’m trying. Summer is a challenge because it’s the best time of year for all the outdoor activities we love. Cram as much as you can before winter sets in feels like my mantra these days.

I’ve got to sit down and smell the roses. 

Training pays off

I exceeded my running expectation and ran a 5:25 mile!

Yowza! I was so proud of myself and the hard work I invested in this race. Now, I gotta convert that to my regular distance races.