Life is funny. Sometimes we wish time would pass quickly- from weekend to weekend, the days leading up to an exotic vacation, finding out the results of an important test. 

And then there are those times when we hang onto every moment for dear life- wishing time would stand still- in the highs of a weekend when an out of town friend visits or the rare moments of extreme happiness and everything feels right in the world- the birth of a child, a wedding, finishing a big race; and then there are the lows, but equally important moments we want to cling to- when a friend or relative nears their final days.

Last night I finished my year of law school (well, technically not the first since I have 3 more years, and I haven't fulfilled all 1L requirements, but it's close enough). It's a bit of an anticlimactic feeling at the moment because I still have to wait for grades to find out exactly whether I'm still in school- or if I did well at all. I feel like I aced my exams, but that also could mean I failed them- ha.

I also met a guy a few weeks ago and yet again, I really liked this one. I will call this guy "perfect on paper," because holy moly is he perfect on paper. He is age appropriate (shocking), a lawyer, an ex-soccer player, a current runner, and a halfsie member of the tribe. Perfect on paper has NEVER translated to perfect (or even mildly descent in real life), so I wasn't expecting much. As it turns out, my expectations were exceeded. He was adorable, smart, and interesting. We had a lovely walk through the zoo and I left feeling excited and hopeful for a second date. Two days later, my wish was granted and grabbed a few drinks. On our walk back, we had our first kiss in front of the zoo. He's quite the charmer. He left a few days later for a trip and he called and texted most of the days he had been away. And then nothing for a few days once he was back. I reached out and we eventually went on another walk followed by another date the next night which included dinner. He went away on another business trip- I got a phone call, a few texts, and then he returned and nothing. I knew he had a LOT of work to get done before he left again, but ...

While I am patient, I am not stupid. On our last phone call on his trip he "promised to see me over the weekend he returned." I hate when people make promises so I followed that up with "don't make promises you can't keep." And he assured me this was one he could keep. He returned on a Friday and by Sunday night, I decided it was time to confront the guy. He was very hot and cold and his personality is the kind that burns fast and hard..and fades.

He essentially told me he's unsure and had met someone a week before me. He reminds me a lot of my own father actually. He puts work ahead of everything and girls generally seem to really confuse him. Unlike my father, he seems to be the lady charmer (I will never know how my dad snagged my mom- first impressions are not his forte, though to be fair is he the most fantastic person anyone has ever met). Anyway, this guy just seems to be confused in the dating world. I'm not going to wait around for him to figure it out, but to be honest, I haven't met anyone at the moment that I want to date. 

Then again, my exams just ended, so it's time to go out and have fun! If he calls, he calls. If not, this is my summer of fun!

What being a runner means to me

It’s taking the good with the bad. It’s setting goals and pushing your body beyond what you thought was possible. It’s the glory and the defeat. It’s about filling your mind with “I will,” “I can,” and “I am.” It’s what goes through your mind between miles one and ten, and ten and twenty.

There are those rare mornings when you wake up and feel great; the weather is perfect; the scenery is beautiful, and time seems to stand still. Those are the moments I run for.  

But being a runner is about so much more. 

It’s the mornings when you wake up and it’s raining and you wince at your stiff muscles and joints; you begrudgingly pull yourself out of bed and head out the door- pushing yourself through every step of the run. In the end, you feel a sense of pride along with relief and exhaustion. 

It’s when you stand in the frigid cold before the sun has come up alongside thousands of other runners huddled together waiting for the start of a race. 

It’s those final tenths of the mile where you sprint your heart out to cross the finish line regardless of how much your lungs burn or your legs ache; and basking in the adrenaline rush of completion.   

It’s the peace you feel within yourself when you look around and realize it is just you and the miles you have run and those that lie ahead- no one else is in sight. And it's about the solidarity you feel with every runner you have ever passed on a run.

It is a sense of self and pride you can never explain to anyone. It is what connects us and what separates us. Being a runner defines me.