Bump In The Road

I’ve always been a planner. Your typical “Type A.” I could never pretend that i don’t have all these little lists of things that I need to get done – ranging from simple grocery store lists, to future home project, and more serious lists like life goals. I’ve learned how to navigate the twists and turns of my plans going awry and needing to adapt and remake my list.

The thing about me is that while I have things planned out, I’m also ready to adapt and be a little spontaneous.
Plans are just outlines.
A rough draft.
Something that can always be manipulated to get back on track.

But none of us were ready for 2020.

How could we learn to deal with a pandemic? None of us have lived through anything like this. How is it possible to adapt when there are so many unknowns? Spontaneity got dumped right out the window when our safer-at-home orders came through.

It will come as no surprise, but our first few months of this hit hardest for me. For most of us, really. We couldn’t see family or friends. Restaurants closed. Wisconsin bars closed! (Yes this is serious!) We couldn’t travel. All our plans got cancelled. All of them. It felt like there was no end in sight.

But one thing remained a constant in my life.

Running.

I started my ultra-marathon training in January. For a race in September. Official training started in April, but I needed to “pre-train” to get to the level I needed to be to just start training. Training for an ultra-marathon was something I never thought I would do. Even though I did a lot of running by myself in those first few months, it was that ONE thing in my life that didn’t change. Running was one thing I wasn’t afraid to do. For the first time in my life, I was afraid to see family and friends. I didn’t want to get gas in my car. I didn’t want to go grocery shopping. I even had a quarantine birthday. But running kept me sane. As best it could anyway.

That’s the thing about plans though. They always change. No matter what you think that constant is. Something is going to sweep you off your feet and force you to change. Even if you think you are standing on solid ground. You’re not.

May 9th. This was the last time I really ran through trails. I pulled my groin muscle. I can only assume it was from the constant dodging back and forth over rocks and leaping over tree branches. At first, it was what felt like a little pull. It didn’t hurt during my run. I described it as, “It feels like my quads after I run. They are sore after a run like the usual expected fatigue. No shooting pain during or after a run.” I decided to stop trail running, but continue my training on pavement for now. I could handle that. A small change which kept me away from some of my running partners, but a necessary change as to not aggravate muscles any more than I needed to.

May 23rd. My 18 mile run went so smoothly. I had continued my training on pavement. I needed to keep some sort of normalcy in my day to day life. I made sure to ice and stretch and really stay in tune to how my body was feeling. There wasn’t anything more than a little soreness which would last for not even a day, and then I felt as good as new.

May 26th. Plans. Out. The. Window. My 6 mile run ended abruptly 3 miles in. I tripped over an uneven sidewalk, and as I stumbled forward, catching myself from falling on the pavement, I jammed my leg into the ground, sending a shooting pain down my leg and my groin that had me stop running and walk the 3 miles home. This wasn’t the rough draft of an outline that I thought I’d ever have to rework. I didn’t want to not be able to run. I walked a mile, and tried to jog a little bit. Nope. It hurt. I wished in that moment that I would have just let myself fall. A bunch of scrapes on my arm would have been better than a jammed leg, right? This bump in the road wasn’t a contingency I planned for.

I stopped running for a few days. I felt a little lost without that one thing in my life that I could always count on being there. It forced me to learn even more about adapting to change, even if I didn’t want to. I attempted to run June 3rd, but that was a mistake. After talking with a few friends who had groin injuries before, I decided that I needed to just take the time off. Pounding the pavement wasn’t what I needed. I tried a test run with my bike to see how I would feel. I figured that there wasn’t as much impact on my legs with bike riding than there was with running.

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To my surprise, I felt great. I went into the bike ride thinking that I would need to walk it home. I wanted to have low expectations in order to not be disappointed. I think the hardest thing about training for anything is when it gets derailed. To know the limits between pushing yourself hard and pushing yourself to prolong an injury is a hard line to find. But I took a step back from running and hopped on my bike.

It was such a pleasant surprise how much I enjoyed biking. I used it as a second form of transportation, but really, it was my source of cardio. Between June 1st and June 17th, I put in 150 miles on my bike.

I never once experienced any pain. Soreness, yes, but that’s expected. And it was mostly in my quads and calves. Not anywhere else. I was learning more limits for myself and taking steps out of my own comfort zone:

– My first 30 mile bike ride
– Riding down busy roads isn’t as scary as I thought it would be
– Riding at night is way more fun than nerve-wracking
– Being more comfortable alone
– Finding out that a 13-20 mile bike ride day didn’t knock me out
– Not caring about random ass sweat marks in public 🙂
– Embracing some serious tan lines

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I found a love for biking that I never thought I’d have. To be fair, the bikes I have been on before were not my own and not as nice, so the seat hurt. A lot. It turned me off to biking. No one wants to go on a bike ride and not be able to sit later. But that didn’t happen.

Between Jun 17th and the 25th, I did some yoga and a handful of runs: a few 2 milers to start, then two 6 milers, a couple 5Ks and a 4 mile. I never once felt any pain. It was such a relief. I was starting to second guess how long I would be out.

My running buddy and I have both been out on injuries, but doing so well. We have a planned marathon on July 4th. Both of us really wanted to get on track with training for our ultra again and decided to take a shot and see how a 20 miler would do. We got up early Friday morning (Jun 26) and ran 20 miles, and both felt great during the entire run! It’s such an accomplishment to run 20 miles in the first place, but we’ve dealt with some serious wrenches in the training plan. I’m really proud of both of us.

I’m pretty sure I stretched for the entirety of Friday and Saturday. And iced more times than I could count. Was I a little afraid I took it too far? Yeah. Kind of. At this point I started planning for the worst case scenario. How could we not after the year we’ve been having? After all, my last long run was a month prior. I kept telling Melissa that we would be alright. That muscle memory would just kick in. And we would just stop if either one of us felt like we were pushing too much. We dialed down the pace and talked the entire time.

And just like that, the bump in the road that I thought would end up derailing my entire training, ended up not being so bad after all. To be able to pick yourself up from whatever situation you are in and rework that life list and get back on track… it’s such a proud and happy moment. Especially when there are so many unknowns.

I should have ran 150 miles in June. RAN. 150 miles.  I ended June with 50 running miles, and 160 biking miles (which is about the cardio equivalent of roughly 54 running miles) To me, that’s a big deal. It feels so far off my training plan. I’m sure by now, there have been a few thoughts from readers (if they even got this far) of, “Really? But it was an injury that barely took you out from training. It could have been so much worse!”

Of course it could have been worse. No matter what situation you’re in, something is always worse. But what does comparing do? Honestly. Think about that. What purpose does comparing have? Our ups and downs in life shouldn’t be measured against someone else’s ups and downs. Who is to say what is worse and what isn’t worse? Feelings are feelings and those are valid. That constant need to one up each other is the reason I haven’t really talked about this… until now.

Since March and the start of coronavirus, I started to surround myself with a true tribe of badass women, and yes, men too. While my change in plans may have seemed small, it had a huge impact on me.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to have to rework your plans as many times as you need to.
It’s okay to not even know what your plan is going to be.
It’s okay to change your mind about how you feel about a certain topic after learning new developments.
I learned a little bit of confidence in some of my decisions.
I’ve spoken out a little more about what I want, which has probably turned some people off to me, but I’ve gotten closer to some of my friends because of it.
It’s okay to want to be alone. And there’s no reason to make up an excuse to not hang out or go to an event. “I don’t want to” is an acceptable reason.
It’s ok to talk about failures. It isn’t always meant to be taken as “please pity me,” but instead, “hey, you’re not alone.” You never know who is going through things.

2020 is not over.
And from what we’ve seen so far, I’m not sure what Jumanji level we will end up at in December.

I know I’ll be challenged again and again when it comes to life, and training, and work, an anything else that life decides to throw at me (but like, please murder hornets, stay away).

One thing I know is for sure: The only actual constant in my life… is change.

 

Find the Lessons

What shall we do with all this extra time?
But sit here and think.
We think about our past and our future.
If it’s where we thought we would be at this moment in time.
And maybe some of the possibilities that we missed along the way.
Those little moments we should have acted on.
The opportunities we passed up because we were too afraid of disappointing ourselves.
Yet.
We never gave ourselves a chance.
We allowed ourselves to believe that we would fail before letting a little fragment of glitter crawl into our minds and letting us think that maybe,
just maybe,
we could do it.
We let those moments muddle our judgment.
The murky confinement inside our thoughts creates doubt.
We forget our accomplishments when we distort our thoughts with “what ifs”
and all the “could have beens” or who we let slip through our fingers.
Dangerous musings pierce our delicate minds during our most vulnerable moments.
Moments that we don’t show to anyone.
We hide behind forced smiles and quirky laughs
and motivational memes and carefully edited photos.

So we just sit with our feelings,
intense emotions we cannot dissect
like some science experiment in high-school when there was a first step,
and a next step to follow.
In sequence.
A direction of which way to go.
We couldn’t get lost.
But that time has passed.
And the directions have faded in the rain that pours from the clouds that you knew where coming,
but chose not to move.

And we remain stationary
in the rain,
which always smells like the first day of spring.
So fresh and so new.
And takes you back to that time where you were carefree and let the water fall down your face…
the days you used to carelessly dance in the rain in your polka dot rain boots,
because a five year-old doesn’t care if her dress is soaked and full of mud.
The mud which clings to her dress like unhealthy criticism attaches to our personalities as adults.

So we’ll continue to sit there.
A long while.
Or even a few days.
and overthink.
Investigate every decision.
Rip apart every emotion that we ever had…
until our guilt makes us numb.

These wasted thoughts take up space in our minds.
We know it will pass, but we stumble around in them anyway.
Because honestly,
the only way we can walk through the dark forest of regret
is after a double shot of that top shelf whiskey we can’t afford,
but pretend we can
Because we need to keep the fantasy that our lives are untroubled
and can support our cravings for likes and comments off carefully calculated photos of fabricated realities
even though we are crying out for the comfort and care for someone
who can help carry us through life.
But we can’t admit that.
Not yet anyway.
Not until the timing is right.

But the timing is never there.
We make excuses.
We fall over every decision as though someone put rocks in our shoes to remind us where we came from.
We’re unstable.
Insecure.
Tipsy.
It’s too cumbersome to take a moment to empty our shoes,
but instead move forward with the understanding that the rocks will create calluses to prevent us from feeling the realities of our falsified existence
because we buried our dreams in the soil of dead flowers we let rot in the garden where we got lost.
We thought those dreams were lost forever.
But nothing lasts forever.

Except the truth.

It’s in those revelations that we thought we knew what we wanted
Or who we wanted to be.
But sometimes,
well, most times,
the truth can get in the way of this.
We don’t actually know what we wanted or who we wanted to be.
If we can find the courage to look truth in the eye,
then the person we are is finally exposed.
The naked bits and pieces we buried deep within our graveyard of secret love letters we wrote ourselves that we swore we’d never read again.
These truths come with consequences though.
It comes with resentment.
and it comes with pain.
But it could come with comfort.
Living our own truths aren’t supposed to be comfortable.
It won’t wrap us up in our favorite blanket on a cool autumn night
as we sink our marshmallows into the fire, hoping it doesn’t burn,
but it always does because we are too mesmerized with the heat and the flame
And letting the smoke settle into our hair for us to remember in the morning.

The truth just takes us to where we want to go.
To where we need to go.
So in those moments we realize
we outgrew what we thought we once couldn’t live without.
We try to fall in love with the things we didn’t even know we wanted.
Things that may have surprised us.
Shocked our hearts.
Flipped our entire lives upside down.
Life is leading us on a journey we would never have chosen for ourselves.

We could keep ourselves stranded in our anxious illusions,
which are only waiting for us to fail,
Or we cannot be afraid of time.
The numbness we once felt melts away as we become aware we have more choices.
Choices to let go of the missed opportunities,
wipe the mud off our dress,
take the rocks out of our shoes,
reread our old love letters,
And breathe in the smell of the rain.

And find the lessons.

Queen Of Control

The truth is that we all want to be in control of our lives. To be able to determine how things are supposed to turn out: that vision we had when we were younger.  It’s normal to want to feel like you can have control over everything. It gives us a focus. A sort of balance in our lives that we strive for. That control that we want will eventually consume us. It becomes a race to perfection. To accomplish something first. To present the appearance that everything is perfect.

Even when it’s not.

Life is daunting. And social media feeds into our insecurities, which only further pushes us into the deeper fears of failure. Until reality slaps you in the face, it’s hard to recognize that we are tying to just conform to what we think people want to see.  The slippery slope of trying to balance real life, but, you know, don’t share too much because no one wants to hear your whining, but yet, keep it real; however, don’t share too much… it’s wild. There’s no middle ground.  So we hide behind perfect photos. We can control that. We control what people see. We control how we want people to perceive us. Until we get lost in trying to keep up with a fake image, we don’t realize how NOT in control we are.

Last year my near seven year relationship ended. And the majority of people that I knew were shocked. Why? That perfect image that was constantly displayed. Of course I blame myself for that. I’m the Queen of Control.  I liked hearing that I was lucky.  I wanted to have something that mattered. Something that people could point at me and say “you know what, I want what you have.”  It’s a good feeling when someone is striving for something you have. It makes you feel accomplished. Capable. Adequate. As though you checked off a life goal.

On New Years, I wrote this:

With the end of the year quickly approaching, everyone starts reflecting: the lessons we’ve learned and reminiscing about how far we’ve come. But this year is different. It’s not just the end of the year, but the end of a decade…

My journey is no different than anyone else’s. We’ve all loved and lost and traveled and learned lessons. We’ve made new friends and lost others. We’ve reached goals, but fell short with others. A decade holds so much history. We are not the same people that we started out as on this decade.

What I do know is this: you are not responsible for other people’s life choices. I’ll say it again. You are not responsible for other people’s life choices. Family, friends, significant others, acquaintances or coworkers … Their choices are theirs. And your choices are yours. Sometimes those two don’t align and you’ll find yourself at what you think is an impasse. Choose you. It’s not your responsibility to fix anyone. Don’t put that on yourself. You can be empathetic and show compassion and be a guiding light, but don’t run yourself to the ground trying to fix someone.

Our jobs are to love people, not change them.

Over the last few years, I lost myself. While I was *IN* those years living, I didn’t feel that way. “Hindsight is 20/20” rings true once again. The control that I thought I had in those years slipped through my fingers, and I was forced to find myself again recently.

Writing has always been something that I enjoyed doing. It was my passion that I lost. “Are you really going to write that” stuck with me. I became shy of what people would say of my thoughts and ideas. I second-guessed my short-stories and poetry.  I have 37 drafts sitting in my blog, never posted. Not finished. I haven’t posted since June 2019. I changed who I was in order to appease someone else and look like I had control of my life.

While the split was not initiated by me, it has slowly turned into the best thing that could have happened. I will not sit here and tell you that my time was wasted, even though in anger I may have said that to my inner circle months ago. I take that back.

I cannot control the past. I cannot control the way that I thought my life was going to be right now at the age of 33.  I cannot control other’s feelings towards me. What I can control is the understanding that this is where life has taken me and to do with it what I can. To move on. To be happy and live in the moment. I have created a safe place for myself in an apartment that I live alone and finally feel good enough about it to call it home.

I chose me.

I made some bigger goals this year so I can focus on myself. One of them is to write more. And an other is a 35 mile trail run in September, which is an entirely different post of how I got to that point.

But I’ll leave you with this: Be you and don’t lose sight of that. You’re in control of more than you realize.


Megs

 

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I’m A Marathoner

It’s been one month since I crossed the finish line.

One. Whole. Month.

 

The emotional roller-coaster I dragged myself on kept passing by the station. I sat frozen in my seat.  I couldn’t jump off. I’d see my friends off in the distance. I’d try to yell out to them, but they couldn’t hear me. I forced myself to smile – to have the appearance that this constant up-down-up-down had no effect on me. I couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but the roller-coaster slowed down enough for me to attempt to get my footing. The ground felt unstable. My legs felt like bricks.

My legs still feel like bricks.
One month later.
I keep looking to see if someone told their toddler to wrap themselves around my legs and not let go.
No one is there.

Everyone talks about the hardships of training for a marathon. You carve out so many mornings. You skip out on a lot of Friday night drinking plans because, “Sorry, I have a long run Saturday morning.” Instead of your friends asking, “So what are you up to this weekend,” they’ve learned to ask, “How many miles do you have?” And each and every time you answer that question, your friend gasps at the amount you’re doing each week.

“Are you sure that’s good for your knees? Your body?”

Yes.
Yes we are sure.
There’s a reason why training programs are designed they way they are.
Trust the training process.

I knew what I was getting into when I decided to train for a marathon. At least I knew what I needed to give up. I prepared myself for what training would look like. My support system astounds me. I feel so thankful to have these people in my life. From family to friends to “IG friends.” We are just all here to support each other. I had some of the best cheerleaders around. People got up to start a run at 0500 with me. Once I started getting beyond the half-marathon distance, people would plan to split runs with me so I would never be alone. People texted making sure I ate enough and drank enough water. People messaged asking how training was going. The actual training process is something that I will always look back on with such a grateful heart. I would never have been able to get through this alone. I cannot tell you how much the “I am so proud of you” messages really kept me going.

I leaned on people a lot. I had to. I don’t know what I don’t know. And everyone was always so willing to talk with me. I asked for advice with stretching and hip strengthening exercises. I asked for advice on the best types of foods to eat. I asked for advice on fueling during a run, and what types of things to bring with on a long run. I asked for advice on the training process.

But you know what I never asked for?

How to mentally be “okay” after my marathon.

I have never felt so emotionally challenged before. When people say “Want to change your life? Run a marathon” or “If you are losing faith in humanity, go watch a marathon” they really aren’t joking. I just did not understand the magnitude of this until I was knee deep and couldn’t look back.

It felt like I was out having celebratory drinks that I had one more month left of training, and the next day I woke up getting dressed to get ready to become a marathoner. I don’t know where time went. But there I was getting ready to start. I was so nervous that I barely slept the night before. I am an anxious person, and not someone who particularly enjoys the fear of the unknown. It’s very hard for me to just JUMP right in. But every year I challenge myself to do something new despite how much of a nervous-wreck it makes me.

 

I had a lot of things to distract me until my own race day.  I had friends running a race in my hometown the day before. I stayed up late to make signs. I got up early to cheer them on. It was a great time!  I still didn’t feel like my own race day was coming when we were on our way to Kalamazoo. It just felt like a little road trip.   You’d think that after getting my clothes together, I’d feel like the race was coming.  Nope.  It wasn’t under after we got to the race and went to take our group photo. After we took it, I was surprised with a sign that everyone signed for me. I found out later that people were passing it around at a KRC event – THAT I WAS IN ATTENDANCE for might I add – and I had no idea it was happened. Kudos guys. But that’s when it hit me. I was about to run my first marathon. It brought tears to my eyes seeing the support from everyone. I attempted to read what people wrote, but all I could do was stare at it in awe.  I know sometimes when I talk about KRC, I joke that I make it sound like a cult. But these people have become like family.

I pulled myself together and got to the start corrals. The first three miles I enjoyed so much. I ran with Janet, who was participating in the Mittens Challenge – Half. She made it her goal to take photos of me, to which I am forever grateful for. She yelled to a few people “IT’S HER FIRST MARATHON!” It still hadn’t quite sunk in that I was in the process of running a marathon…

… It didn’t hit me until three miles in where Janet and I ran through Kalamazoo’s super cute downtown, and up head I see the split ahead.  “Half goes straight. Full to the right.”  I felt ready. “YOU’RE DOING IT!” Janet yelled.

 

 

And I was off. The rest of the race was by myself. 23.2 more miles!

I trained for this! “The race is a celebration of all the miles you put in during training,” I could hear Abby’s voice in my head. “You’ve already put in the work. Enjoy it!”

64 training runs
85h 40min total
411 miles
10,554ft in elevation

“I DID train for this” I kept reminding myself. I course was very diverse. We went through all different parts of town. I kept a slow and steady pace. Mile 8 presented itself with a lovely hill. BUT I DID HILL TRAINING!  It could never have been more proud of myself. I took the hill slower since I knew I had so much more mileage to go, but it was nice knowing that at mile 11 was the downhill for that same hill.  I was tired, but knew I needed to press on. It was getting hot. I was tired. And I was only just about half-way done. To my surprise, as I was just down that hill and turned the corner, I see some familiar faces! Josh, my mom’s boyfriend Loren, and my half-brother Chad. (My mom was volunteering at the finish line, otherwise she would have been there as well.)  I had thought about quitting so many times at this point. I threw my arms out and ran to Josh to give him a hug. I was SO happy. I felt like I got a little energy boost from them.  I found out later that they had JUST missed me as I went up the hill (at mile 8) and they were driving around looking for me, but blocked off roads and timing wasn’t in their favor. But it worked out for me! I NEEDED that boost right when I saw them, so it was meant to be.

 

I still had ~13 more miles to go. I didn’t feel terrible, but I didn’t feel great either. In hindsight, I could have used a little more sleep, and a LOT more water in the days leading up to the race. I passed all sorts of signs that gave me a good laugh. “Way to go Team Poor Life Choices” was one of my favorites. Someone also made a sign that said “Here’s some photos of my dogs” so naturally I stopped to take a photo of that sign. I sent it to a few people. I jokingly said “Look I stopped for puppies!” Little did I know that one of the KRC members Lisa wrote on my card “Don’t stop for puppies.” Whoops.

Mile 18 came and I began to feel emotions that I wasn’t ready for. I was ready for the hills and ready for how much my legs hurt. I wasn’t ready for the wall. I thought I had hit the wall before. Oh how wrong I was. I started to feel down on myself. “You got farther than this in training! And faster, too!” I was trailing a little behind of where I was for my 20 miles run. I needed to keep myself in check. Of COURSE I could go faster during my 20 mile run. I WAS DONE at mile 20. Not this time.

I hit mile 20 and had tears in my eyes. “This is it,” I told myself, “You’ve come this far. You are not quitting. It’s game time now!” 20 miles was the farthest I had run. I wanted to quit. My legs hurt. My hips hurt. My brain hurt.

I had so many people following me through the tracker. “You can do it!” “Drop the hammer! Go go go !” “It’s smooth sailin’ now!!” And my favorite “THIS IS WHAT YOU TRAINED FOR!!”

My friend Kristin ran her first marathon the day before. Her emotions from the race were so raw that I felt like I had a friend RIGHT there with me. We were not physically together, in fact, we didn’t run any of or training runs together. But the entire time, we had the same distances on the same week. The feeling of support from someone who has already ran a marathon and someone who hasn’t ran a marathon and is just so proud of you isn’t quite the same as someone who is balls deep with you. Feeling the same things at the same time for the first time. And I by NO MEANS ever ever mean to say that the support from other people meant less – furthest from the truth. But hey, It’s 2019 and the Internet all hates each other sometimes. I LOVE YOU ALL!! It was just in THAT moment. Mile 20.01 when Kristin texted “this is what you trained for” I about lost all hold of my emotions. She was right, though.

But I wanted to quit. I faked a jog for mile 20. At that moment, the pacer I was trying SO HARD to stay in front, passed me. The 16 min/mile pacer was now in front of me. My confidence dropped. I could feel the weight of my legs. I walked damn near all of mile 21. I passed a couple who were walking. We high-fived each other as i fake jogged by them. “GREAT JOB!” they yelled back. It looked like the the woman had hurt her ankle. I picked up my feet and trudged along: not quite slow enough for a walk, but a struggle to call it a jog. I texted Josh nearly in tears, “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. Everyone is just sitting around waiting for me.” I hated that feeling. I hate when people are waiting on me. He reassured me that it was okay. That there was no pressure to finish quickly. And that he was proud of me.

My calves kept seizing up.
My hips tightened.
I couldn’t feel my feet.

I rounded a corner to just about mile 22… TO A HILL. A BIG HILL. What kind of a sick joke was this? I stood there, right at the bottom, with the two ladies clearing up the water table. I started up the hill. One lady handed me my water, took my other hand and said, “You got this. You can walk up that hill. But you got this. You are so close!” All I managed to get out was, “This isn’t fair.” before the three of us busted out laughing. I was pretty delirious at this point. I’m not sure if they were laughing out of awkwardness because I started laughing first, or if they really thought I was funny. I’ll never know.

You bet your ass I walked right up that hill. It was near a half mile long. After the hill, the route switched from residential to go into a park. Right as I was passing mile 24, a truck pulled up and took the mile marker down. My heart sunk. I wasn’t fast enough to have them keep the mile markers out. I asked him if the signs of where to go would still be our. He assured me the directional signs were out, but he was just picking up mile markers. He wished me luck and I was on my way again. I get to a point in the road where it looks like I could veer off from the driving road and go onto a path. BUT, written in chalk it said “Not this way.” I wish I had taken a photo of it, but I hadn’t. I had to focus all of my energy on not falling over. I kept looking around for a sign, but didn’t see anything. There weren’t any volunteers around. I heard from close behind me, “Hey! Are you in the race?” I told him “I think so. I feel like I’m going the wrong way.” He said “Don’t worry you are RIGHT next to the path where all the runners went. They followed the walking path here instead of the path for the cars.” So i quick shot over to the path and followed it. It was eerie. Taking directions someone a random group of fisherman. I was on a paved path. It reminded me of some of the paths back home. I rounded a corner and thankfully saw some volunteers packing up the last water station. They had music going and cheered me on as if I was the first person through their station. I put my sunglasses on and tried not to cry. I was so close yet felt so far away.

 

My feet were dragging from under me. I could barely feel my legs. I rounded another corner to a hill – smaller than before – but I reached the top. Mile 25. ONE MORE TO GO. Austin and Robert were there waiting for me. Another very needed surprise. I fake jogged again. My jog was so slow that they could walk next to me. (Hey it’s ok to joke about now.)

One more mile.
Two more corners to go around.
I had to finish the few blocks of residential-ish area.
Take a left.
few blocks on the coned off area for a small stretch.
Then a left into the finisher’s chute.

I see Josh and Chad just before the first left. I now had Robert, Austin, Josh, and Chad jogging along side me. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about someone carrying me. I was done. I kept going back to all the signatures on my card of people telling me that I could do it. I had to finish now.

We take that first left. And I can see it. Just ahead. I can see the finisher’s chute. It’s RIGHT THERE. I tried to pick up the pace, but I was pretty sure someone tied bricks to my legs. As I was nearing the very last left, the guys broke off so I could finish the race. Janet and Roy were at the beginning of the finisher’s chute. She was videoing. You can watch it here on IG. I see Molly… and Jen and Patrick… and right there at the finish line is my mom. I hear the announcer “Hello Megan!” I waved.

And I ran.

I wasn’t going very fast, but I was pushing it as hard as I could to get across that finish line. I could almost reach out and touch it. Just a few steps in front of me.

And there it was.
I was a marathoner.

My mom gave me my medal. I cried. SHE cried. By the time I managed to pull myself together, everyone was around me hugging me. Of course the first words out of my mouth are, “people chose to do this more than once???”

 

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I don’t think I could thank people enough for sitting around and waiting for me to finish. I can’t put into words how much all the support had done for me: whether it was in person or messaging me along the way. I needed it all more than most people know.

Being a part of the Kenosha Running Club has been life-changing for me: the friendships, the inside-jokes, the camaraderie, the unquestioning support. I often wonder “what would I be doing RIGHT NOW if I didn’t know anyone from KRC?” It’s so much more than “oh that group of people I run with.” We laugh and cry together. We share secrets and inside jokes. We drink beer and a lot of coffee. We challenge each other to be better both in running and in life. We pick each other up when we fall down. We have way too many FB group messages. But mostly, we are all better for having known each other.

So for now. I’m navigating this whole marathon recovery process. I still can’t watch Janet’s video without crying. I’m keeping busy with volleyball three nights a week. I’m not running more than 3-4 miles at a time. I don’t want to start to hate running, so I’m taking it day by day. I know I am not mentally in the place where I was before marathon training. Or even when I finish my mile 20 training run. I’m not usually an emotional person so for all this to be happening — it’s emotionally exhausting.  I find myself struggling to get out of bed at 7am to run 3 miles when I was fine waking up at 4am to run 18 miles. I don’t know how to answer “So you going to run another marathon??” Some people have told me it’s normal to not feel normal right now. I just need to give it time.

Despite the struggles, I am so proud of myself for finishing my training and becoming a marathoner. It’s something that I’ll always be able to reflect on. All of the memories that I created along the way and the friendships that became stronger because of it I will cherish forever. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much to the family and friends that have been there for me. It will not be forgotten. 

“I dare you to train for a marathon, and not have it change your life.”
– Susan Sidoriak

Marathon Training: 18 Miles

I always have to get prepared the night before. I realize I pack a little more than what I need to, but when you’re running from point A to point B and ending 18 miles away from home, well, yes, I needed a few extra things.  I was very thankful that I was able to pack a bag on Thursday to give my Mom though. She works blocks from my house. I packed a fresh set of clothes, my travel skincare, protein powder and nuun for after my run, and a towel for my hair. I realize it seems silly that I packed a towel to go to my Mom’s. I mean, obviously she has towels a plenty in her house. But I have a microfiber thing hair towel that I like to use on my hair, so I brought it. Ha. Could I do without? Absolutely. But I was packing a bag anyway, so I figured I’d just throw it in there.

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Friday night rolled around and I was getting really nervous. 18 miles would be my new farthest distance. Last year when I ran to my Mom’s house, not only was I with friends, but we were nonchalant about it – taking as much time as we needed, including stopping a few times along the way. We went 17 miles.  Because I am now marathon training, I really wanted to make sure that I was pushing myself for time. I can’t even compare the 17 miles run last year to the 18 mile run this year. I’m in a completely different placethan where I was. I actually feels weird to put that in writing. It’s only a mile more. I can see people thinking.  Sure, it might be, but there’s also so many other factors in there. One, I did 18 miles alone (for the most part. I did meet my sister at mile 14, but more on that in a bit). Two, I was trying to go for time and push myself. Three, I was way more exhausted at this point in training. I barely followed any sort of a training plan when I went to my Mom’s. I realize that isn’t the smartest thing to do, but that’s what I did. I ran on the weekends and maybe once or twice during the week, and definitely not as intense as I am running now.

But I digress.

To get ready, I needed my fuel, ID, some cash, Noxgear and headlamp and my hydration vest. Plus my keys to get back into my house. I set out the clothes I am going to wear too – that way I’m not stumbling around in the morning looking for things. I plan to have a dedicated post to how I get ready, so I’ll leave it short and simple here.

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0445 rolled around – I found myself hardcore dilly dallying. It’s really nerve wrackinggoing a distance you’ve never done before. It was also really early so I wasn’t fully awake. I spend some time making sure that my Garmin LiveTrack feature was working. Josh gets a link every single time I run, but I also had my Mom added since I was running towards her house. I texted her making sure she got the email, snapped a photo for her so she knew I had my Noxgear on and was able to be visible when running, and then I headed out the door. I walked for a block or two: I really needed to mentally prepare myself for leaving south Kenosha to run to north Racine… no turning around. “I gotta just go,” I told myself. I knew I needed to start off slower or I’d lose steam. I was proud of myself for not busting out some fast pace that I couldn’t handle for 18 miles. Starting off slow is harder than you’d think, too. But I kept a steady slow pace, making sure to just put one foot in front of the other.

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Before I knew it, I was to the start of the trail. It was just starting to get light out. Dusk is always a comforting time of day for me. I actually hate wearing a headlamp. I have tohave it tight on my head so it doesn’t bounce, but then it just hurts and feels weird… like my head is being strangled. It is not something that I have gotten used to. There are some areas where I run where I don’t need my headlamp because the streetlights are enough. But I knew I would need it today since there were a few stretches of pure darkness.  I do really like running in the dark. Well, for the most part. I wouldn’t ever run on some secluded trail by myself. I mean, what if I fell? The places I run still has some sort of car traffic,even at 0530. I’ve never felt unsafe before.  In any case, I was glad it was getting light out since my Noxgear started to flash red (meaning my batteries were almost dead). It was light enough out to be seen so I wasn’t really worried about it.

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It wasn’t until I was 8 miles in (around 0700) that I saw my first signs of humans. Which, yes, is actually rare. In the areas I normally run around, I see a handful of people running. But not so much on the trail! I really was surprised. It made me a little more aware of my surroundings. Every squirrel I heard bustling about got my attention. I don’t run with headphones in so I hear everything.  

At 0718 I hit the county line road between Kenosha and Racine. Soon after, at 0729, I hit halfway through my run. It was the point of no return. It is hard to not want to turnaround sometimes, but at least when I got halfway, I knew I didn’t really have a choice. I had planned to do the last 4 miles with my sister. She was going to meet me and run the rest of the way to my house. So I let her know when I hit 12 miles. I got to mile 14 before she was there, so I paused my watch and did a few stretches. I needed some sugar anyway, so I got out my trusty Honey Stinger Waffles.  I really like this. They are a bit messy though so unfortunately I don’t have them often. My sister got to our meeting point, and we headed out.  I knew I had 4 more miles left to go. It was hard pushing through those last couple of miles though. I really just wanted a nap.  My quads were holding strong. My my calves were tightening up more than I anticipated they would. My hips were started to tense up. DeAnna kept encouraging me that I could do it and keep going. 

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The hardest part about the run was needing to run right by my Mom’s street and keepgoing for another half mile out. I hit her road around mile 17. I wanted to just be done. Having DeAnna there really helped. So instead of turning down her road, we went a half mile down and turned around. I pushed with everything I had in order to finish the run.  I get so overwhelmed with emotions when I accomplish something I didn’t think was possible. We walked a few blocks before going back to the house. I knew that I needed to stretch. My whole body felt really tight. I hold a lot of tension in my back when I run. I’m working on a more proper form, but old habits are hard to break.

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As soon as I got to my Mom’s, I pulled out my protein powder from my my bad and had that right away while I was stretching. I took close to 15-20 minutes to stretch before taking a shower.  My original plan was to drop my car off at my Mom’s on Thursday night and have Josh drive me home, but my Mom told me that she would just take me home after my run. So I was very thankful for that since I knew I would be really tired.   That shower felt so relaxing. It was like I was washing away all the doubts I thought I had about the run. I finished it. I was still walking. And I didn’t tripall once. Ha!

As soon as my shower was done, I started getting really hungry. We decided to go to Meli’s Cafe. If you haven’t been there before, I highly recommend. The food portions are HUGE. I usually get 2.5 meals out of it. The omelet is basically the size of my head, and it comes with a side of pancakes… which are also the size of my head. I always get an omelet and pancakes because I eat the pancakes at the restaurant, and i pick at the omelet a bit, but take most of it home. Omelets and potatoes are MUCH easier to reheat then pancakes, so I save those for later.

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I was really thankful that my Mom had offered to bring me home. I would have been awake enough to drive myself home, but I’m not the biggest fan of driving, so it was nice to not have to do that. Thanks Mom! 

It made me a little more confident in my training, but also still really nervous. This run was 18 miles which was hard enough already, but knowing during the race I will have 8.2 miles more? Yikes.

Cheers to nap time.

Oh We’re Halfway There

At this point, I definitely feel like I am living on a prayer…

 

But let’s back up a bit.

JANUARY

January seemed to creep up on me. It was as though from Sept 28th, the day I signed up for the marathon, to Dec 31st, just flew by. And all of a sudden it was January and I now had a specific schedule to follow. January didn’t seem as daunting as I thought it was going to be. I kept up my running through the end of the year – doing running between 3 miles to 5 miles max. I tried to find a balance between not wearing myself out to not January“losing my base.” I also very much so enjoy running and my running club, so it was easier to keep going through the holidays. I felt prepared for January. There were a few days in the middle of the week that I was unable to run – or even truly think about reworking my schedule – so I didn’t feel all that guilty about it. In the past, I beat myself up if I didn’t follow my schedule exactly. I found that I would let that affect the rest of that week and I would miss even more running. I swore not to do that this time.  I had an important two-day work conference. Life happens. I didn’t let myself miss any of my long runs. I typically run Sat morning – in fact, about 90% of my long runs are on Saturday morning – but if something came up, I would do it on either Fri or Sun. As long as I got the long run in, I felt great.

It is really hard to not get caught up in the numbers game. I try to have a minimum of 80 miles per month; however, I ended January with 51.90 miles. I reminded myself what more frozenoverwas to come in March and April… more than I have ever ran, so I let myself not be so focused on the number.

January had it’s challenges though. Cold weather running is a beast all on its own. I had to learn what worked and didn’t work for laying my clothes. The photos looked pretty, but it was chilly.   (Photo Frozen Over. ) We even hit some Canadian-cold weather with a -21 degree day… before windchill. And no, I did not run outside. In fact, I didn’t even get in my car to go to the gym. Our “feels like” temp was -50.  Frostbite in 5 minutes. No thanks. But alas, this was during the week so my long run wasn’t moved around.

FEBRUARY

Now, I know that this is Wisconsin, and I know what winter in the Midwest means. I’ve lived here my entire life. Snow. Cold. Dark. I was prepared for that. Well. I was more prepared for the cold than I was for the dark. The thing is, I’m actually a morning person. But there’s quite a difference in “Oh it’s 0430 and I can’t sleep, so I’m going to lay in bed Februaryand scroll through Facebook and scowl at the fact that Josh is a heavy sleeper and still sound asleep” to “Oh my gosh is 0430! I need to get out of bed and find my 576439 layers of clothes and get out the door and START RUNNING by 0500/0530.” It’s a way different feeling. The darkness made it very hard to get up.  When I was asked, “How did you get up?” “What was your motivation? It’s so early!”  Part of it is the fear of “well if I don’t slowly increase my mileage, I could overexert some muscles and pull something.” And it’s true. There are reasons that professional lay out a training plan they way they do. Slowly increasing mileage is the safest way to train. So part of my “motivation” was fear. May sound silly I realize this, but it’s the truth.

Another part is having accountability buddies. It really makes such a huge difference. I will not cancel a run if I know I’m meeting someone.  Plus, sometimes my work days are just too unpredictable. I cannot always guarantee that I can run by a certain time, so early morning plans were necessary. Did I whine about it? Absolutely. It was barely 0 degrees. We are allowed to whine about it.  I truly tried to give myself the first few minutes of running to whine about how cold it was. But that was it. Why focus on it? Unless I plan to move, this is what I get. (Let’s be real though… if I move more south, I’m going to whine about the heat in the summer…)

February is the shortest month, yet I somehow jam packed a lot of things into my month.hearthimom I started doing more cross training – which included lifting weights at the gym and snowshoeing.  I had done weight training in the past, but just never kept up with it.  Snowshoeing is a new adventure that I am learning to love. If it’s going to snow, I may as well enjoy it right?? I planned a Valentine’s Day run with the Kenosha Running Club. It was another early morning run but I have to say, making fun shapes really helps the time go by quicker!  I planned a weekend get-away in Galena with Josh the last weekend of the month (it was our 6 year anniversary), which prompted me to have to run on a Friday instead of the weekend. So I created a route for my mom as a surprise. I mapped out a “Hi Mom“- it truly helped get me through when I just wanted to be done. I closed out February with 91.60 miles. 

It might look like I have it all together. I’ve been asked for advice, “So how do you do it? How do you fit it all into your schedule?” And the truth is — I don’t. I have inner struggles every day that I don’t always advertise to people. Some days I do. Some days I don’t. I’ve had to rearrange social events. I’ve had to tell people “no you can’t come visit in March and April because I will be too exhausted to actually hang out with you.” I have really long days. I typically work 45-50 hours a week, so in order for my work to not suffer, I NEED those 0500 or 0530 runs.  I try my hardest to commit to hill training with the running club, but being somewhere by 1700 on a weekday is incredibly difficult. I’ve had to tell people “No I can’t hang out Friday night – Sat is my long run.” more times than I can count. And now, Wednesdays are up to 7 miles… starting 8 miles next week.  I’ve pushed off cleaning my house, which was NOT a good idea. It stressed me out even more.  (Don’t worry, it’s clean now! Josh and I spend 4 hours cleaning last Sunday.)  Finding a balance it really difficult. I’ve felt like I needed to apologize to people for not being around… and I’m only half-way through this journey. The next two months are going to really pick up.

Fitting in time for Josh, my family and friends, running/working out (including Hot Yoga and cross-training), my job, including some social media work on the side, meal planning and keeping up with the house and the dreaded laundry, it has left little time for blogging – which I really love to do – but most importantly, just me time. I need a mental health day.  I am trying some new time management tactics this next month, which is starting with taking a mental health day on Monday. No work. No running. No social hanging out. My plan is to go to Hot Yoga in the morning (I will need it since I’m running 15 miles on Sunday), then get my office at home organized, and then just catch up on some TV shows. Knowing myself, I will probably only be able to sit on the couch for two hours, but hey – baby steps.  Whiteboards are my new best friend and I have ordered one for my office… I’m slowly putting together a post of what’s been working and not working for time management, so after a month, I should have something ready. Boom.

“So if it’s that much work and you don’t have time for it, why are you doing it?” (Yes, I’ve actually been asked this…)  Because it’s a challenge. Because it’s pushing my beyond a point I’d never thought I’d be. Because it’s helping me grow. Because it’s helping me better my time-management. Because I’m healthier at nearly 33 than I was at 23. Because it’s teaching me discipline. Because I am capable.

Because. I. Can.

As of March 3, 2019, I am halfway through marathon training. I’m halfway there. HALFWAY! Livin’ on coffee and dreams (and carbs and Honey Stingers and protein powder) over here.

Here’s what’s to come:

March

April

(Special thanks to Molly who put together this calendar!)

On that note, Happy International Women’s Day! And thank you to everyone who has been supporting me along the way!

Cheers to early morning and frosty hair.

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New Challenges. New Beginnings: Marathon Training – How I Got Here

The second I crossed the finish line for my first half-marathon in 2016, people started asking me, “So, when’s your marathon?” Running a half-First Half-marathonmarathon for the first time was so emotional. My family was there at the finish line. I kept telling myself to “keep it together,” but I could feel my eyes started to get watery. And from so much mental fatigue, I just let it happen. A few tears had started falling down my face: first because I was just so happy to have crossed the finish line, but second because I was laughing at myself for crying in the first place. And my niece was the cutest. I wanted to hold her, but I was so exhausted, so a photo on the ground was the safest.

I did not think I’d run a marathon.

At the end of July 2016, I did one of those Inflatable races in Madison and jammed my knee. You’d think it was because of the running — nope. It was because I slid down a slid and the ground just came up too

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quickly and BOOM. My knee jammed when i hit the ground.   I did some PT stretches and weights for my knee, and I was cleared to run my half-marathon at the end of August. I knew I wasn’t going to be going for a PR, but I had already signed up with my work, and we were sponsored. So I ran it, well, I walked most of it.

I definitely did not think about running a marathon then.

I’m pretty sure I had some major runner’s high in 2016, and not because I had racked up a ton of mileage, but because I was doing new things. I had signed up for 3 half-marathons. I couldn’t tell you now what possessed me to do that. I do remember that I had signed up for these right away, not realizing how close the dates were to the last two, but I was just really ready to take on the challenge. The 3rd one was in September 2016. This half-marathon went pretty well, despite the rain. The scenic route made it easy to forget how far I had left to go.

Third Half-Marathon

Even though I had a 4 minute PR, I still didn’t think about running a marathon.

2016 running season ended. Not a marathon thought passed through my mind. It only came up when other people would ask me about running a marathon. I had zero intentions of it. “You really want me to run 26.2 miles? I think not.”

May 2017, I ran a half-marathon by myself. And, by that I mean, I trained for it alone. I drive up there alone. I had no one waiting for me at the finish line. I grabbed lunch Kings&Queens Half-Marathonby myself. And drove home by myself.  Any race that I do, I typically end up running by myself, even if I come with other people. I know everyone is at different places in their running journey, so I can’t expect someone to run NEXT to me the whole time. But Pewaukee, I was literally by myself. It was something new for me. Not having anyone around to celebrate. While that may seem sad and depressing, it was a really powerful feeling. Doing my absolute best with no one watching was oddly satisfying.

I still didn’t think about training for a marathon.

My 5th half-marathon was in Colorado. I did want to train to actually run it, but my friend was nervous about the altitude change, so we agreed ahead of time to walk it. This particular race didn’t have a time-limit, so it was perfect for that. I brought my camera and took some breathtaking photos in the mountains. It was amazing to have finished my 5th half-Colorado Half-Marathonmarathon, but there was also this feeling of “did I REALLY finish it?” just because we didn’t run it. It didn’t feel as much like an accomplishment as the rest of my races, but I was still really happy that we did it.

I most definitely didn’t think about training for a marathon after this.

October 2017 was the most emotional race I have ever run (even to date.) My brother-in-law’s grandma had passed and running was something he turned to. He expressed interest in running a half, so I said I would do it with him. He trained with his daughter Baylee, pushing her in the stroller every mile. He was THE ONLY one who pushed a stroller in the

screenshot_20190211-165931.pnghalf-marathon.  This race wasn’t even my best time. I actually got sick half-way through it (pretty sure it was from what I had eaten the night before). So not only was there a ton of emotion from pushing through a stomach ache, but seeing my family and Chris at the finish line… I don’t think there will ever be words to describe that.  This could be an entire blog post as it is, so I’ll leave you with our photo.

And, yup, you guessed it — I still didn’t think about a marathon!

 

 

This was of great surprise to a lot of people. I had finished 6 half-marathons with no intention of running a marathon.  I wanted to set some more challenging

2018

goals for 2018, but a marathon just wasn’t one of them. And I was 100% okay with this decision. It wasn’t something that weighed heavily on me. Not one bit. No one was going to make me feel guilty for not running a marathon. I decided to do Ragnar, so that was a huge step for me. And I also wanted to beat my half-marathon time.  I knew I would need to change what I was doing for training. I had slacked on cross-training: whether it was weight lifting or swimming or literally ANYTHING else other than running. My friend Sarah convinced me to sign up at the Kenosha YMCA with her, so I did.  I also signed up to run 2,018 miles in 2018 with my friend Sokhon as a team of 2. (So 1,009 miles a person).  My highest mileage ever for a year was around 650 or so. So shooting for 1,000 scared me.

March 3rd, 2018

My first run with Kenosha Running Club. And the day my life changed — I just didn’t know it yet. I felt so accepted. The first thing I told Josh was, “I found my people.”  I made more and more friends who I eventually opened up and shared my goals with:

  • Running 1,000+ miles in a year
  • Running Ragnar
  • Getting a half-marathon PR
  • Running from my house in Kenosha to my mom’s house in Racine.

I will save the anticipation — I accomplished every single one of these goals. Every Single. One.

My half-marathon was May 5th. I shaved off another 3 mins from my PR time. screenshot_20190211-171855.png

I did not think about running a marathon.

Ragnar was May 18th-19th. This should really be another blog post as well.  My three legs weren’t very long, but running on no sleep, and not a lot of food was challenging! screenshot_20190211-172032.pngI did not think about running a marathon..

Looking back, though.. the next few months is when the seeds started to get planted. I just didn’t know it yet.  Throughout the next few months of making friends in KRC, I had expressed how I wanted to run from my house in Kenosha to my mom’s house in Racine — and some of my friends hopped right on board! 17 miles. It would be the longest I had ever run.  Also during these few months, I was asked to do the Ragnar Trail in Sept. It would perfectly align with running to

my mom’s  so I hopped on board to that too!

When the day came to run to my mom’s I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I was going 17 Miles to be. But there was just not any pressure to be done by a certain time. The day before, I dropped my car off at my mom’s along with everyone’s bag for a change of clothes. I planned the route, including where all the gas stations were for water and bathroom breaks. I was prepared. It was the most fun run I have ever done. We even joked about how we weren’t that far off from the marathon training plan.

For the first time ever, I toyed with the idea of running a marathon.

Ragnar Trail

Ragnar trail came and went, and marathon training was in the back of my head.

“You know, when you train for a marathon, you only run up to mile 20. You’ve ran up to 17 miles already. That’s only 3 runs that you haven’t run the distance for yet.”

 

 

 

And that’s how it happened.

Three weeks after running to my moms and running my second Ragnar trail, it hit me. I COULD do this. I knew I had the support system. I had so many people I could run with. Okay, so there were also margaritas involved.  BUT, whenever people ask me why I decided to run a marathon- it just isn’t quite a simple answer. It took me a long time to wrap my mind around running a half-marathon, and here I am training for a marathon.

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I’m going to honest though, It still doesn’t quite feel like I am training for a marathon yet. The distances I’m running now are all for a half-marathon. I think my mind is secretly tricking me, but I’ll figure it out real quick after the end of this month when I’m not stopping at 13 miles…

I plan to post more of my marathon chronicles every Monday. Time got a little away from me, but better late than never!

Cheers to sore legs.

 

 

According to Megan

I’ve been trying to revamp what my blog is for me for the entirety of 2018. I like a lot of things so it’s always been hard to try and have a “brand.” Well, I’m semi-throwing that out the window and doing what I want.

I’m changing my Facebook page and this blog from “Creative Imaginations” to “According to Megan.” Creative Imaginations just wasn’t fitting anymore for this blog. I used to do a ton of poetry and short little excerpts. So it made sense then. I created this blog in 2011 and picked a title on a whim, never thinking too much about it. I didn’t know a lot about social media. I didn’t understand much about marketing.

Oh times are a-changin’.

I have found myself always getting asked for recommendations, whether someone is going on vacation to somewhere I have been, or what local spot to try out, or what festival is going on, or even what wines would be the best for them. I really enjoy doing that. It didn’t really dawn on me that I could just be making my posts more about this. Especially because it is very easy to add links and have it be a very nice reference.

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I started to put some of my recommendations on Instagram — that’s where this idea started to blossom. At first, I was going to try and just stick to Kenosha, but that’s not me. I love travelling. Josh and I go somewhere every year. We do a few-mini weekend road trips, but we fly one place every year. There was no way I could just market myself to just Kenosha.

Plus, I know a few amazing Instagramers and bloggers who already do that.

Two other passions of mine are photography and running. I joined the Kenosha Running Club this year and PhotoKenosha last year. KRC has been just absolutely life-changing. (That is another blog itself… so stay tuned!!) And I’ve learned so much in photography. (Even more blogs to come!) I couldn’t pick just one of these to talk about!

I tried thinking of a name, but I didn’t want to try and get “trapped” with only writing about one thing. I even tried combine a few names together – like running and photos. I didn’t like that either. There was no way that I could combine all the words that I could use to describe this blog.

“According to Megan” was born.

What you’ll expect to find me writing about:

  • Running
  • Photography
  • Kenosha
  • Travel (tips, places, recommendations along the way)
  • Wine (and other alcohol related things)
  • Relationships (i get asked this a lot because Josh is introverted and I am not. Among a few other things as well, but that’s the biggest one.)
  • … and who knows what else!

What will remain the same:

  • My photography blog (click) and my photography IG (click) will both remain under “Creative Imaginations” since that is what makes the most sense!
  • This blog will keep the same url, but I’ll be revamping the photos at some point.
  • #Caffeinatedopinions (click) will still be active, but with no set schedule. I don’t have near the interest that I thought I would. And that’s totally okay! Live and learn!

I have my first official post as “According to Megan” set to go up Sunday. ❤

XOXO,
Megs

The Art of Maybe

Do you know how many drafts I have saved for blog ideas? Or actual blogs I just never posted?

Go ahead. Take a guess.

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32!!!

Thirty-two blogs.

I never realized how much I’ve wanted to say, but just don’t say until I look at that number. I’m sure there will be people out there who say, “well, why won’t you just post it then?”

See, here’s the thing.

We have freedom of speech. Everyone knows that it’s supposed to be a right.  BUT. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t come without consequences. You can’t just go around saying whatever you want to say and expect nothing to happen. Do you have the right to say it? Sure of course you do. However, once you put something out on the internet, it is there forever. Forever is a long time. And ONE thing… some simple thing…can change someone’s perspective on you.

“But Megan, stop caring what other people think about you.”

Honestly, that’s bullshit. It’s so easy to say for people who have anonymous blogs. I do think the majority of us deep down care what other people think about us. I sure do. I have opinions. LOTS of them. But is it worth sometimes coming off like a jerk just to exercise the freedom of speech? Not really, no.

Okay, I hear ya. “Well, if you aren’t even saying what you want to say, then are you even being real? Is this your fake personality.”

No. No it isn’t. I don’t write about things that are false. I don’t fake an opinion. I just chose what to write about and not write about… publicly. I have had plenty of conversations in person with family and friends that I would never post on my blog. It’s censorship of my blabbering mouth. Not a fake personality.

I’m not here to talk about huge world issues, specifically politics or religion. And I do think it’s very easy to stay away from those topics if I’m being truly honest; however, I think that fear still trickles down into the rest of my writing when it shouldn’t.

Maybe it is because I grew up before social media.

Maybe it is because I don’t really believe in my writing.

Maybe it is because I’m afraid people don’t really know my sense of humor.

Maybe I’m just straight up lazy.

Maybe I’m out of ideas.

I don’t know. But year after year I have some sort of an excuse to not keep up with my writing. (Or I do keep up and just not post it.)

There comes a time where all the maybes start defining who you are as a person. And it defines your writing style. All the maybes start becoming a firm no. “No do not post that.” “No you cannot say those things.” There are no longer any debates about what to do.

And you know what the irony is?

I like to write about wine, food, running, and travelling. And the occasional poem, which I haven’t shared in a very long time. Literally none of that is political or racial or controversial. Will people have opinions on it? of course. It’s the internet and people can’t scroll passed a meme about peanut butter and jelly without complaining about it. I do have thick skin when it comes to comments and corrective criticism. In fact, I always embrace it. When corrective criticism is actually that, and not “i’m going to tell you something mean just to be an asshole,” it really does help us grow.

What I’m saying is that maybe I just really don’t have an excuse as to why I’m a terrible blogger. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hopefully I can pull myself together at some point to actually write from time to time!

Until then!

Cheers.

Happy One Year, Prius! 🚗

Happy belated one year to my car! ✌️ I’ve done so many fun things this last year! I put about 15K on my car and I’m not even mad about it:

I started off my New Year in January with a trip to the Dells with Sokhon, Monica and their girls.

In March, I drove to Madison with Ally and DeAnna to meet up with Sokhon to run the Shamrock Shuffle that kicked my ass. ☘️

In May I drove to Pewaukee by myself to run my 4th half-marathon.

In June, I drove to Chicago with DeAnna for Emily’s bachelorette party and then the longest road trip I’ve ever taken: Ally and I DROVE to Denver, Colorado Springs, and Georgetown, CO. Nebraska is booorrringggg. Yes we drove the whole way. We toured around Colorado and even walked a half-marathon in Georgetown. Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs was gorgeous. But lemme tell ya, DRIVEing down the mountains was SCARY! 🏔️🗻

In August, I drove to Mackinac Island with Justin, DeAnna, and Josh to surprise my mom. She had no idea we planned to come to surprise her. Such a fun family vacation! The very next weekend, Josh and I drove to Door County to celebrate Janelle and Andrew’s wedding. 💍 I was so honored to be a bridesmaid!  And the next weekend after that, Sokhon drive down from La Crosse and then I spend to the Metra station so we could get to Chicago for LADY GAGA.

In September, Josh took me to my first metal music festival: Sonic Boom in Janesville. 🤘

In October, i drove to Milwaukee to run a half-marathon with my brother-in-law Chris, who was running his first. Such an emotional race! I also drive to Chicago with DeAnna to run the Hot Chocolate 15K race. Her longest race length to date! So so proud of both of them! 🏃

In November, Josh and I drove to Chicago to have a date night and watch the Packers win against the Bears.

This month in December, we drove to Door County to have a relaxing night away and stock up on wine. 🍷

From Oct – Dec, I completed a Photography Certificate from UW-Parkside. 📸

So many fun things happened this year!!  And the above are the ones I used my car for!! Crazy! Josh and I also went to St Louis for his 30th birthday to see Iron Maiden, but we took his car. DeAnna and I drove to La Crosse to go camping, but she drove. I attended a few more races, planned a few girls nights, and made many many many trips to the grocery store.

But the biggest thing… NO MORE METRA!!! This was the first year in a very long time that I haven’t been on train time. And it’s been amazing!

Can’t wait for 2018. ❤️🍷✌️