Plot Twist!


Embarrassment has kept me from writing this entry. I’ve finally gotten to a place where I feel comfortable sharing – so here goes:

I am no longer taking classes. To sum up – I quit school. Although quit is a nasty word I would rather not use.

After taking and retaking classes in order to get my pre-requisites done to apply for nursing school, I’d finally had enough. My entire identity was revolving around school and what grade I got on that homework, that lab, that test. And I hated it. I was stressed out, depressed and broke. I hated not feeling as if I were good at anything, I hated crying all the time, I hated being poor. All I wanted was to be GOOD at something. So after failing Anatomy and Physiology a second time, I was done.

I’ve spent the last couple of months on a new journey of self discovery. After being on the nursing school path for so long I had suddenly found myself a 30 year old college dropout with no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I had absolutely no idea where to start so I began to brainstorm about what I was most interested in. My ideas ranged from construction, to landscaper, to government employee. But I was getting nowhere.

After a few weeks of that and getting irritated whenever someone would say “what about *insert new life changing job that I obviously hadn’t thought of*”, Matt and I sat down and made a list of what companies I could be interested in and what I wanted out of a job (full time, benefits, 401k, etc.) I decided I didn’t want to work for corporate America but would prefer smaller places such as non profits or local companies. One of the places on my list was a local plant nursery that we’ve frequented since we bought our house. They had an admin job open and with the help of a friend who knows someone there, I got an interview. On Thursday they offered me the job.

Yesterday I put my two week notice in at work. I’m so excited to begin this next chapter in my life but sad to leave literally the best job I’ve ever had. I’ve learned so much about people, old and young alike, and made so many friends who have turned into family. I ran across an old blog entry I wrote the same day I was offered this job and I found it interesting that somehow I just knew this place would change my life. I wasn’t wrong.

So here’s to the next chapter of my life – whatever it may bring.

Boudoir Photo Shoot

I’m struggling with how exactly to begin this blog entry. So I guess I’ll just come right out and say it: I did a Boudoir photo shoot.

Why was I struggling with how to open this? Honestly, I have no idea what the general opinion on Boudoir is. I try to remember how I felt about it before I did it and realized I had no opinion as it wasn’t anything I ever gave much thought to.

In any case – it was brought to my attention that it would make a nice birthday gift for Matt. What I didn’t realize was that it was actually a gift for myself.

Body shaming comes in all forms. Whether you’re fat, skinny, too dark, too pale, or even look too old or too young – the list goes on. I’m no stranger to it and it can definitely get you down. As a student struggling to make passing grades, my health has gone by the wayside and I haven’t exactly been feeling my best lately. So it honestly came as surprise to me when I realized I had just bought a Groupon for this photo shoot with the intent of redeeming it within the next few weeks – definitely not enough time to get into “shape”. But I soon learned it would not be a problem.

The shoot was at the Hotel Sorrento in downtown Seattle. A beautiful, historic landmark that is supposedly haunted – which somehow just seemed fitting.

The company I went through is owned by a married couple. The wife, Amanda, met me in the lobby and took me down the hall to get my hair and makeup done. That process took about an hour and in that time I deliberately didn’t look into any mirrors – somewhat risky considering that the entire purpose of my visit was a photo shoot. But I had no regrets. The second I saw myself in the mirror I swore – not uncommon of me but this was from actual surprise. I had no idea I could look so…grown up.

Although I’ve just turned 30 I don’t look it at all. Something I’m told constantly – even today in fact. I know I’ll “love it” when I’m older but as a result I’ve never in my life felt – for lack of a better word – sexy. But on this day – I did.

After hair and makeup I was taken upstairs to one of the rooms where the photographer, and Amanda’s husband Jeph, was. As soon as I got there we started talking like old friends and all the nervous feelings I had melted away. We went through my clothes to discuss the five “costume” changes I could do and he explained to me the packages and the process.

After the first few photos were taken Jeph came over to show me what they looked like, untouched. As I stared at the photos, my mouth gaping open, looking at what apparently were photos of myself, Jeph just looked at me and said “Yeah, that is you. No touch ups. Just you.”

Well, with good lighting and a lot of makeup of course.

The rest of the shoot I felt so confident. So sexy. So comfortable in my own skin.

I don’t know what the general consensus on Boudoir photography is among general population but this girl – excuse me, woman – gives it a thumbs up.

Stay sexy, Seattle.

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Musings of a (now) 30 year old

Thirty. Such a milestone birthday and yet I didn’t actually realize until it was pointed out to me.

I had a bit of a difficult time turning 30, although I can’t tell if it’s due to what is going on with my education, that the month of December was way too busy or quite simply because I have entered another decade. Most likely a combination.

I have taken solace in the fact that I have never been one of those people who put a timeline on my life. I never said I wanted to be married by 25, be done with kids by 30 and have a high paying career by 35. For that I am thankful. Although now, I must admit, I have found myself with such a list created in my head for the next five years. Part I know has to do with biology but the other has to do with me just feeling old.

Aside from the obvious I have found myself wondering why turning 30 was harder for me. I know that turning another year older affects people differently. Typically it’s never really bothered me before but going into your twenties brings the ability to legally drink and rent a car – so instead of feeling old you begin to feel like an adult. After that there’s not much to look forward to except for increased health risks, mammograms, hot flashes and AARP…or so I hear. And even though I have never been one to give myself a timeline I guess I always assumed I’d have my shit together by the time I was thirty. Instead I’m working two days a week and retaking classes because apparently I am incapable of passing them the first time around.

This is now the third time I have failed a class. I’ve fallen into this terrible pattern of taking a class, failing it and then retaking it. I don’t know if that shows perseverance or insanity but regardless it definitely grates on you. When you try so hard, study so long and sacrifice so much and you still fall short – it just makes you feel like a damn failure.


My pride has taken a beating and for the first time since I went back to school I have begun to doubt myself and question if the path I’m on is the one I want to take. I fear that if it is this difficult for me to get through these classes now then what will it be like once I get into nursing school? Will I flunk out? At this point will I even be accepted into a nursing program? So many questions I would have never allowed myself to ask before and yet here I am. My confidence is shattered and my ability to spin positivity into any situation is gone. The thought of this new year brings me nothing but fear instead of hope and that ‘let’s kick some ass’ attitude I usually have. Without that I have nothing.

I know other people believe in me but without the ability to believe in myself I feel hopeless. Kind words and encouragement seem to mean nothing to me anymore. I guess I’m no longer naive enough to believe them. Instead I’m looking at the world with jade colored glasses.

I don’t mean to be such a downer but I needed to write out my thoughts. In no way does this mean I am quitting school – it just means that this journey is looking to be even more difficult than I imagined.

Here’s to 2017 – whatever it may bring.

Bedroom Renovation

Well, I am finally on summer break from school. Which means two things. One – I can update here more and two – we are renovating our bedroom. It will be a fairly similar process to when we renovated our spare room, which you can look back on in my entry Spare Room, only this time we are adding French doors to the outdoor wall with the idea that we will eventually put a deck in the backyard.

About two Sundays ago, Matt and I moved our bedroom to the spare room. That took a few hours and as a result our house looks as if we just moved in all over again. Which, if you know me, gives me anxiety like no business. But I digress.

Monday evening we began demo in our bedroom. We lasted about an hour and a half before calling it and the next day I finished up the rest. That Wednesday, I set quite the ambitious schedule for myself with the intention of borrowing my dad’s truck and cleaning up all of the drywall, removing all the insulation and taking it all to the dump. And when I mean I set the schedule up for myself, I mean – by myself.


Part of the drywall pile that needed to be cleaned up

I started out the day by heading to the gym, because, you know, bagging up and hauling dry wall was not going to be exercise enough for me apparently. By 9:40 I was in full blown clean up mode, gathering up the pieces of drywall we had taken down with a hammer and crowbar and shoving them into heavy duty garbage bags. Unfortunately, I couldn’t fill them up too much. Drywall is pretty heavy and I still needed to get the bags from our bedroom, out the door and into my dad’s pickup – alone. I wanted to avoid dragging the bags across our hardwood floor, so it was everything I could do to pick them up and hold them out at arms length, while trying to avoid rubbing the bags against me for fear of being stuck by a nail.


9:55 am – regretting my arm workout

As I continued, I decided to skip putting the larger pieces of drywall into the bags and to just toss them in the back of the truck as I went. I created piles of the bigger pieces and took as much as I could at one time.

10:15 am – regretting my leg workout 

By about 10:30 I had filled the truck to capacity and headed to the dump where I had to lift the bags out of the truck and swing them over the short wall they have.

10:45 am – regretting my workout altogether

The dump didn’t take long and I was back at it within a half hour. I packed up the remaining drywall and then decided it was time to take down and pack up the old insulation. As you can see from the photo, it hadn’t been replaced for decades. It is probably the same insulation that was put in when the house was originally built in 1947.


Taking out insulation can be a very nasty job. Since this insulation is so old, it seems to tear as soon you touch it. Inside is a bunch of disgusting fiberglass just waiting to mess you up.


Because taking insulation out is so messy I had to be prepared to protect my arms from the tiny fiberglass, my nose and mouth from inhaling it and my eyes. As a result, I gathered an old sweatshirt, my Biology goggles and a 3m respirator mask which I had also used while tearing down the drywall.


Obviously, I make this look good

It was quite the getup and extremely hot. Seattle is going through a bit of a heat wave right now and being bundled up like this was torture. As a result, I tried to move as quickly and efficiently as possible. I don’t think it took me much longer than a half hour to get everything done, but it seemed like longer. I was drenched in sweat by the time I was done.


Sexy and I know it

11:45 am – WHY DID I GO TO THE GYM?

After a much needed lunch break and quick visit from my mom, I was back at it and had the second dump run done by about 2:30. I still had vacuuming, mopping and some general touch ups to do before we could move on to the next phase, but it took me less than 15 minutes into the final clean up to realize I was done. So I packed it in and finally took a shower at 3:00 and it was GLORIOUS.

Moral of the story – packing and hauling drywall IS a good workout.

Since then, the bedroom has been cleaned up and we are preparing for the next phase – rewiring the room. That will rely heavily on Matt in the beginning as he’s an amateur electrician and then we can continue on.

Stay tuned for the next phase of our bedroom renovation!

Stay cool, Seattle!

The Unseen Battle

Every Friday I go to class and then directly to work. I try my damndest to get to work as quickly as possible. Sometimes luck is on my side and other times not. I was on my way this morning making decent time when I got behind a Pontiac that was driving a bit too slow for my liking. I knew they were probably elderly and I found it ironic that as I was rushing to get to my retirement home job I was getting irritated with this man’s slow driving. I have always been a patient person but my job has taught me to be even more so. It was as I was looking at the clock, wondering how much later I’d be, when I saw the man’s bumper sticker. D-Day Survivor 1944 Omaha Beach. As a history lover I found this fascinating. I suddenly began thinking about that day almost 73 years ago. All the recounts I’ve read about it, the way it is portrayed in the movies, and I thought about his experience. What was it like? Was he shot? Did he nearly die? Did he watch his best friends die? It’s amazing to me the sort of horror people can go through in their lives and then suddenly it’s 72 years later and you’re driving down the street in Shoreline, WA and nobody around you knows what you’ve done in your life and what kind of battle you may be fighting.

A little over four years ago, I was picking up lunch at Dick’s on Queen Anne for my coworker and I. She had given me money to pay for it and had said “If you have enough for an extra cheeseburger, get one”. It was the day after my grandfather had died and I was a bit out of sorts. When I came up to the counter I rambled off our order and then sputtered out the part about the cheeseburger. It turned out I didn’t have enough money for it so I told the girl behind the counter never mind, apologized and then said “I’m sorry, I’m out of sorts. My grandfather died yesterday.” Minutes later when my order was finally called, I was grabbing the bag from her when she said “I threw the cheeseburger in there for you. I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

I was so surprised and thrown off I almost started crying. My intention in telling her that had not been to get a free cheeseburger. It had just been to explain my inability to get a sentence out. Her generosity, however small and insignificant it may seem, meant so much to me that I still remember her now, and I know I always will.

My point in telling you all this is as I was thinking about all the things in life that man with the bumper sticker had been through, I remembered my own battles in life and the small things that others have done for me that meant so much. Life is short and so often we are so quick to rush around, judge and focus on the bad that we forget to focus on the things that are good. So, instead of getting mad at the man in front of me, honking, cursing and riding close behind him, like so many frustrated drivers like to do, I just tapped on the brake, gave him some space and enjoyed the ride.

bumper sticker

Thoughts While Doing The Rock n’ Roll Seattle Half Marathon

So I finally accomplished another thing on my list of New Year’s Resolutions – run a half marathon! Yesterday I ran in the Seattle Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon. This whole time I thought my next blog entry would be about the things I wish I had known, or the things I had done better to prepare for this, but after doing it, I actually think I was well prepared despite it being my first. Thanks to advice from friends, and a little online reading, I can honestly say the only other thing I could’ve done better to prepare was train better. And I knew that going into it.

A year and a half ago I ended up washing my iPod in the washer after getting home from the gym one day. Since then, I haven’t worked out or ran to any music. Tricia seems to think that was crazy/bad ass of me to run a half marathon with no music, but it sure gave me some time to myself to think. The following are some thoughts I had while running 13.1 miles without any music and only my thoughts to keep me occupied.

On my way to the start line:


Waiting to start!

Sean just left me. Why did he leave me?! I’m glad Tami is with me right now. I couldn’t start this alone. I can’t do this. Holy crap – this is happening. It’s time. I’m not ready for this. I’m scared. Am I starting to cry? Stop it. You’ll be fine. Save that shit for the finish line. Oh no, I have to pee again.

Crossing the start line:


Start line for the Seattle Rock n’ Roll Half Marathon

They were playing some rap song and so I started channeling my inner bad ass hip hop until I realized we actually needed to start running, instead of swagger across the start line.

I got 99 problems but a – oh crap time to run. What are you doing? Stop swaggering. This is no time for bad ass swagger. Run. Holy crap, I just crossed the start line for a HALF MARATHON. Crap, I definitely need to pee.

Coming up on mile 1: I’ll pee when I get to the first mile. I’ll just stop real quick, no problem. There’s mile 1! Oh no, look at the line. How do this many people have to pee already?

Between miles 2-3: I don’t have to pee that bad. Maybe I can hold it the whole time. Maybe it’ll evaporate out of me! Oh my god I can’t believe I’m doing this right now. Stop crying!

Mile 3: Mile 3, gotta pee. I feel pretty good. I can do this!

Mile 4.5: There they are! The perfect porta potties. The ones I’ve been waiting for. Time to pee!

Mile 5-6: Feeling pretty good but maybe I should try a shot blok now. That tastes pretty good. Crap. Now I’m thirsty. I need water. I need mile 6 and then there will be water. And then I’ll walk for a minute.

Mile 5-6: WHERE IS MILE 6?! WHERE IS THE WATER! Oh there it is.

Mile 7-8:


Tricia’s sign she had up during miles 7-8

Hey I know that sign. Is that Tricia? IT IS TRICIA!

Mile 7-8: I feel bad. I should’ve stopped and talked to Tricia. I just hugged her all sweaty and ran off. I’m a bad friend. What is that up ahead? Is that a hill? IS THAT A STEEP ASS HILL? Whose dumb ass idea was that? Screw it, I’m walking. I need to save my energy, right?

Mile 9: I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. Four more miles. I can do it!

Mile 10: Three more miles! I should be done in about a half hour! That’s usually how long my 5k’s take, right?!

Mile 10-11: Are the miles getting longer? Where is mile marker 11? Why am I not there yet? What sick bastard made the last 3 miles the longest?

Mile 11: Two more miles! Everything hurts. There’s the Space Needle straight ahead! We’re almost done! Wait – why are we turning left onto the viaduct? WHY ARE THEY MAKING EVERYTHING LONGER!

Mile 11.6: That guy said we would hit the water stop at the top of the hill and it would only be 1.1 mile longer. WHERE IS MILE MARKER 12! WHY DID HE LIE? Oh, there it is.

Mile 12: This sun is killer. I wonder if I should do what that girl just did and take off my shirt, too. I probably have a six pack by now. I mean really, I should definitely have one.

Mile 12.9: SCREW YOU KING 5 MAN! Three quick turns and I’m done? I remember this part of the course from a previous run and another bastard said the same thing. AND HE LIED. It is NOT 3 quick turns and done. I hate you King 5 man. I hate you. You know nothing. NOTHING!

Mile 13:


Half marathon/marathon runners running up Mercer to the finish line


Mile 13: F*&^ YOU MERCER, F*&^ YOU MERCER, oh it’s Tricia! I can’t believe she made it here in time! F*&^ YOU MERCER, hey it’s my mom! I can’t believe she’s here! F*&^ YOU MERCER, F*&^ YOU – OMG IT’S THE FINISH LINE!

Finish Line: That was killer. I can’t believe I’m finally done. My body hurts. I need to sit down and stretch. Where are my people? I need to stretch.



Keep running Seattle!

Tulip Pedal & Seahawks 12k

Last year Matt did the Tulip Pedal, a bike ride up in La Conner, WA where they have the annual Skagit Tulip Festival every year. Him and our group of biker friends had done the 60 mile ride and it apparently kicked their asses. But regardless, Matt told me he thought it would be a great one to do together, so we can see the tulips, without having to sit in traffic. So I agreed to do the 20 miler with him. Since I’m not a biker, I was definitely not about to do any more than that.

About a month or so ago my mom and Tricia both asked me if I wanted to run in the Seahawks 5k/12k run down in Renton. Since I’m preparing for the Seattle Rock n’ Roll 1/2 marathon in June, I figured what better way to keep me motivated than to sign up for a 12k (7.5 miles) and see where I’m at 2 months before.

So I signed up for them both. And realized only 2 weeks before that they were both the same weekend.


Even though I knew I would be completely physically and mentally exhausted, I did them both this weekend and had a blast at each.

Saturday morning Matt and I headed to my dads and met up with the biking group. From there we drove the hour North to La Conner and set out.


Sean, Jennifer, Mike and myself – pinning bibs on each others backs


Matt, Sean, dad, Jay, Mike, Jennifer and myself


Rest stop about 12 miles in

The ride ended up being really nice and not too difficult. We ran into some head wind at a few points during the ride, but other than that it was a very scenic and just nice ride. We rode along country roads, sang songs (ok so mostly I sang) and unfortunately due to early blooms, we didn’t see any tulips. But regardless, I still had a blast hanging with my biker family and afterward, of course, we went to La Conner Brewing for some post bike ride food and beer and then grabbed some ice cream from a cute stand nearby.


Sean, Jennifer & Matt


25 cent elephant ride and my ice cream cone. I’m an adult.

Saturday night we ended up going to bed pretty early. I was so tired from the days events and worried about the run the next morning. So I hydrated and went to bed about 9.

The next morning Tricia picked me up at 7 so we would have enough time to commute to Renton for the Seahawks run, find parking and grab our packets before my run started at 9.


Tricia and I before everything began

The run began at Renton Landing and headed out toward the VMAC where the Seahawks practice. This was the first time I had done anything more than 4 miles so I was pretty nervous about how I was going to do. It ended up being a beautifully warm day but running on the blacktop was kind of brutal. I made it all the way to the VMAC (4 miles) without stopping to walk, then kind of shuffled through the water stop and continued on back. There were 3 hills during the course that didn’t seem so bad the first time around. But boy did it start getting hard on the way back. I think I made it about mile 5.62 when I decided to stop and walk a bit. Unfortunately, walking didn’t provide much comfort as all I really wanted to do was stop to stretch. I did end up stretching my calves at a tree for a minute but really I just wanted some water and to plop on the ground in a butterfly stretch.

Screen Shot 2015-04-20 at 8.52.26 PM

I struggled for the rest of the run, walking and running, finding no relief in either as my lower back and legs began killing me. I was cursing the lack of water on the route as well as that damn 20 mile bike ride the day before when I finally heard the music of the finish line and even though it was super crowded and my body was killing me, I couldn’t help smiling as I crossed.


Post race with my mom who did the 5k


Stretching out post run

All in all I felt I had a pretty good run all things considered. It was definitely a wake up call in regards to how prepared I am for the 1/2 in less than 2 months, but it has given me the motivation to get out there to train better. I also learned the benefit of being able to eat WHATEVER you want after a nice long run like that. I couldn’t believe how hungry I was. Today I’m still getting over the physical exhaustion and nursing my sore muscles. I’m just excited to get back to it as soon as I feel better to start some serious training.

Until next time – keep running!

Running Advice From an Amateur

Last week I was talking to a friend of mine who was asking me for running advice. While I’m semi used to a friend asking me every so often for work out advice (ie. weights, etc.) I have never been asked for advice on running before. I’ve been working out at the gym since I was 14 but have only been a consistent runner for not quite a year yet, so needless to say I was surprised and pleased to offer my experience.

When I first began running, I didn’t have an agenda. I remember being pretty angry, actually, and knowing that the only way I could blow off some steam without going crazy was to work out. But somehow, going to the gym just didn’t seem good enough. So I literally put on my work out clothes and ran out the door. I don’t know why I stuck with it. I’d had a pretty good run and always knew that I needed to incorporate more cardio into my work out routines. I felt confident, though I have no idea why, that if I became a runner I would lose some weight. And I was right. So from then on, I started running on a consistent basis. And the results are what keep me going.

I’ve been hesitant to call myself a runner this past year even though I run about 3 or 4 times a week. It wasn’t until Tricia posted this picture to her Instagram that it really dawned on me that yes, I was indeed a runner! What more do I need to convince myself of that than the fact I run on a constant basis? Don’t ask me why some random quote on a picture resonated with me but it did.


As an avid, yet still very amateur runner, here is my advice for you:

Don’t Compare Yourself to Others – I feel like this is the biggest downfall for a lot of people. Each person is different. Each body is wired differently. I recently completed an online Nutrition course for school and one of the most important things it stressed in the chapter on dieting is that what works for some people, won’t necessarily work for someone else. This is true for a lot of things, including running. It doesn’t matter how fast or slow you go, how far you run or how often you get to it. You’re out there and you’re doing it when you can, at the pace you can. Each time I do a 5k with Matt, my dad, brother and our friend Sean, I’m the last one in. And the only other person who is a constant runner is Sean. Do I care that the others, who don’t run as often as I do, beat me? No. And you know why? Because we each do what we can, however fast we can. I also think my short legs could have something to do with that. 🙂

Don’t Skip Rest Days – I know, this is repetitive, but it’s definitely important. And honestly, sometimes I have a hard time letting myself rest. But just know that your body needs time to heal and recuperate after the strain you’ve been putting it through. You risk injuring yourself if you don’t and that will keep you out of the game for longer than a rest day!

Be Consistent – Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you won’t become a marathon runner after one outing. Be consistent and build up to where you want to be. When I began running, I did this short 1.67 mile loop from my doorstep, up the road, down and back to my doorstep. The beginning of my run is up a gradual incline and doesn’t flatten out until about a mile in. So when I first started, it killed me. I would go as far as I could, stop to walk, then start running again when I felt I could. After awhile, I would challenge myself to get to the top of that incline – and then I would stop. I would continue that until I felt I could go further, and further, until before I knew it – I was doing that 1.67 mile loop without stopping. And once I’d mastered that, I increased my distance and went through the same stop and go process until I was running 2.25 miles without stopping. Build up to it and be consistent. Stick with it – because you got this! And it will only get easier from where you were before.

Take Your Time – This kind of goes with being consistent, however I want to stress that your pace doesn’t matter. Go at a pace that is right for you. I average a pace of about 10-11 miles per hour typically. Sure, it’s a bit slow I guess, but it’s what works for me. I’m not going to strain myself, risk injury or pain in order to have a better average pace. If I were trying to place into something like the Boston Marathon, that would be a different story. But for someone who just wants to run – it’s no big deal. Do what you can. It’s not a race. Unless you want it to be.

Sometimes You Have Bad Days – Sometimes you decide to go out for a run and your legs start to hurt, or you get a side ache, or you just plain aren’t feeling it. It happens. Every day can’t be a good day. Sometimes you have those amazing runs that remind you why you love doing this. Other times, you suffer through it. And that sucks. But at the end of the day, at least you can say you did it. It wasn’t pretty, in fact it was probably downright ugly, but it’s better than sitting on the couch watching reruns. Stretch it out, drink some water and give yourself a break.


Cross Train – It’s important to keep other parts of your body strong and healthy as well. It helps to balance your muscle groups and reduces your chance of injury. I try to hit the gym in between running days. For awhile I would go for a run, then hit the gym the next day, go for a run, then hit the gym again. That’s where I was forgetting to rest! Although, you can have running rest days and hit the gym at the same time. Just be sure to train different muscle groups.

Have the Proper Gear – I bought myself a new pair of shoes strictly to wear to the gym about 2 1/2 years ago. Those were the same shoes I began running in and about the end of summer this past year, I started getting some good pain on the bottom of my foot whenever I ran and on occasion when I walked. I’m sure you can guess what that was from. So thanks to Tricia who had a great deal through Brooks, and Matt who bought them for me because I didn’t have the money, I got a new pair of running shoes and my feet felt better. The most important tool for running is your shoes. The rest of course you can have fun with, a nice pair of pants, a cute top, that stopwatch to help you track your time. But in the words of Lieutenant Dan “Take good care of your feet”.


I guess number two is pretty good advice also.

Remember, each body is different! And I am not in any way certified to give any sort of fitness advice so be sure to consult a professional before starting any sort of work out regime.

Keep on running Seattle!

Happy St. Patricks’ Day

Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone! It was just two days ago that my father told me that we were Irish! He took a DNA test through a few months back and discovered this. Which I think is great. I’ve always loved the Irish culture and am now proud to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day as a true part Irish woman! Tonight, we will dine on corned beef and cabbage and I’m decked out in my green today.


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In the spirit of today, I would like to share with all of you one of my favorite St. Patrick’s Day stories from when I was a kid.

I was about 7 years old, at the prime of believing anything my parents would tell me. I was terrified of Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Leprechauns – really any of those made up childhood stories that were meant to entertain and thrill young children, scared the absolute crap out of me. Don’t ask me why – I was a weird kid.

I remember having a conversation with my mom the night before St. Patrick’s Day. I can’t remember the details but I think I was terrified Leprechauns would come into my room while I slept. She assured me I would be fine and I slept soundly that night.

The next morning I woke up and was getting ready for school when I noticed the strangest thing. A tiny footprint on my closet door.

2cf7b854b85c3b5bc0e81dcc0bf90a12It almost looked like someone had taken a stamp of a footprint, dipped it in black ink and stamped my closet. I demanded that my mother admit it was her who had done it, but she swore up and down she hadn’t, and seemed about as confused as I was. For those of you who know me personally, you know that my mother used to be a local Seattle area DJ. That day, she went to work and relayed this story to all of Seattle. I’ll always remember March 17th as the day that all of Seattle laughed at me. *sigh*

To this day, I have no idea where that footprint came from. Maybe my mom will come clean 21 years later. Or maybe – just maybe, they exist.