In the past, you would have NEVER found me running unless something was chasing me. I’m serious. I thought people who ran were nuts. Out of their gourds. Bonkers. Delusional. I mean, who would want to sweat and pant and hurt and make your heart pound? Especially when there’s pizza to be eaten, couches to melt into, and bad TV to watch. I mean, honestly … WHO!?

For one, my buddy Erik. He was a runner. An athlete. Out of his gourd. In great shape. Damn him and his charming smile, his impeccable health, and desire to run! Three years ago, we lost Erik. He was running a half marathon (that he’d run before), and had a heart attack at mile marker 13. Suddenly, something in me changed, and I went from this:

photo 5

To this:


Finishing that race the next year was important. It was necessary. I needed it for closure and to attempt to move on. Well. Long story short, I broke my foot 3 months before the race and wound up unable to participate and finish it for Erik.  I’d trained and everything. I’d lost 28 pounds. I was in great shape, I was enjoying running and working out (gasp!).

I broke my foot and fell off the wagon.  Now, two and a half years later, I’m back on the wagon, and I’m training for the Nike Women’s Half Marathon in DC.  I’ve been training for 4 months and haven’t been able to find my mojo. I’m in a routine, I’m doing it every day, just haven’t felt it yet … like I did almost 3 years ago when I was training for Erik’s race.  Then. Suddenly. This happened:

photo 1I ran six miles last night. Six goddamn miles.

And then? I staggered into the parking lot, got into my car, and sobbed. A lot. Loudly. I sobbed and cried for a good twenty minutes before leaving the gym to go home.  I sobbed because I miss Erik. I sobbed because I knew how proud he’d be of me (nothing was chasing me! I ran SIX MILES on my own accord … what?!). I sobbed because I was tired. I sobbed because I’ve never been prouder of myself. I sobbed because I surpassed my goal. I sobbed because I ran six miles. Me. The fat girl who only runs from things that chase her. I sobbed because I did it. 

For the first time since I started training at the beginning of November, I feel like I can do it. I can finish this race. And I’ll finally do it for Erik and get my closure.

So, I’m excited. I’m really excited. I can’t wait to do it again. And maybe I’ll sob uncontrollably again. Who knows?

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#287: The Marriage

by Nicole on February 6, 2013

Posted in: Uncategorized

One thing that society (all these fantastic wedding blogs, too) doesn’t address is the marriage. Yep. Think about that for a second. Everyone’s so busy staging their weddings perfectly so they can appear on [insert popular wedding blog here], that the fact that that wedding is the start of a marriage can get lost in translation.

I got a message from a reader (Kristy) the other day asking if I wouldn’t mind sharing a link to her blog … it documents the first year of marriage from the eyes of three newlyweds. Heck yes, I’ll share!

Anyway. Check out Paper Trails: Mapping Out The First Year of a Marriage and be sure to leave some comments over there to let Kristy know what you think!

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