Wild West Pivot

I needed this more than I knew. The escape to wild lands without much of an agenda and the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted was cathartic. In a life regimented by the work clock, the chores clock, the caregiving clock, it was truly a vacation. 

Kathy asked if I got bored driving all those miles. Maybe there were times that I wished I was already there, but those were few and far between. I had open roads, playlists of my music, I could stop when I wanted to, I could drive for hours without stopping. Even my nights in between could be rearranged. 

I touched down in Denver on Thursday afternoon after working that morning. I navigated to the train stop at the airport (with my boot and heavy AF camping gear bag) and rode the light rail to Union Station. Once off the train, I decided to Uber to my hotel (with a very sweet Ethiopian woman) as the walk was nearly a mile and my bum ankle/heavy bag was not ideal.

At the hotel, I got settled and then headed to the restaurant on the first floor for dinner (a BLT and a beer). Once the sun started to set, I promptly fell asleep. In the morning, I showered and then walked a few blocks to meet my dad's cousin Kathy for breakfast. We chatted at ease despite not having met before and probably could've easily spent the entire day drinking coffee, swapping stories.

But alas, I needed to hit the road in attempts to reach the first come, first serve campground of Sugarloaf in Wyoming. I walked a few blocks back to my hotel and packed everything up. I Ubered to pick up my car rental (a 2027 Kia Sportage with 138 miles - which made it even more sad given the events - spoiler alert), grabbed a few provisions at the grocery store (re: a gallon of water, a split of champagne, charcuterie, a baguette, and local IPA).

I chose a route that took me through Winter Park and west of Rocky Mountain National Park. It was a little faster to go directly north, but I was all about scenic routes. Once I finally escaped Denver and I-70 traffic, it was bliss. I wound through mountain roads and watched my altimeter rise and fall among the aspens.

I went through ski towns and around switchbacks, taking video with my Meta sunglasses to share with Adam at home. He bought me the glasses large in part to share my adventures with him and as a solo driver, this was a wonderful use of technology.

I felt a gnawing in my belly after meandering around a creek area in the continental divide and came upon a huge swath of open space for miles and miles. I pulled over to a dilapidated shed on the side of the road and opened my hatch. I still had breakfast hash and ate it while watching very few cars go by. A trio of bike-packers rode by and waved. What a gift it was to enjoy this Friday afternoon in the middle of nowhere.

I crossed into Wyoming without fanfare and the GPS spit me onto a gravel road for a dozen miles. Okkkkkay. I'm no stranger to gravel and dirt roads. I drive a 4x4 Jeep Wrangler at home. She's seen some adventures. But I'm in a rental. It ended up being very well-groomed and I could drive 40 mph on winding roads.

Eventually, it spit me out on the road into Medicine Bow Forest. I made note that there were numerous campsites on my way, but I'd read good things about Sugarloaf so I was headed that way. As I pulled in, I immediately felt disappointed - CAMPGROUND FULL. I made the loop anyway, just to see it. 

I drove to see the lakes and hobbled about, taking a few photos from the parking lot. I decided to use the pit toilet while I was there and to add insult to injury, found that a very heavy period meant I bled all the way through my shorts. Rude.

I changed into new shorts in the car and then went in search of an open campground. I drove all the way down and FULL, FULL. FULL met me. I was very close to giving up and getting a hotel in Laramie or Cheyenne. I had plenty of daylight, but wanted to be settled wherever by sunset. 

I pulled into another full camp area and then sat on the side of the road trying to figure out if I could boondock camp anywhere. I wasn't sure of the rules and though most park rangers are nice about it, I wanted to be a good park citizen.

Well, fate intervened and a public land steward quite literally rolled up next to me. Lowry, a man in his 60s (?), was on his bike and asked if I needed directions or help. I need a place to camp tonight and all the campsites are full. After a bit of back and forth, he realized I was okay with boondocking and told me he was the summer keeper of an event cabin up the road. He'd grab me a map (in this sketchy GPS area) and feed the hummingbirds.

As a woman, I'm often thinking, is this where I'm going to get murdered? But I thought I was a pretty even match for a fistfight with Lowry and obviously, did not get murdered. We had a lovely conversation on the porch of the event house for quite some time that afternoon where I watched hummingbirds and attempted to feed ground squirrels peanuts.

He described a really cool campsite and I managed to make it there in my non-4x4 vehicle, very slowly. It was very quiet and very beautiful. If my ankle wasn't so in disrepair, I would've camped at the top of the hill, hiking up all my gear a few hundred yards. But it was safer and easier to just set up camp near my parked car.  

An hour or so later, Lowry came to make sure I was okay, but didn't linger and cycled back down the hill. I set up my camp and pulled out my charcuterie for dinner. I read in my tent, relishing in the fact I needed my sleeping bag for warmth as the sun set.

I woke shortly after first light and broke down my camp. I cracked open my can of shitty coffee, had my brought-from-home banana, and hit the road. The sunrise was gorgeous coming into Centennial. 

I drove past Laramie and headed north and east, towards Mt. Rushmore. My day's plans were to see the monument and make it to my campsite nearby at 6pm. So the rest of the day was just whatever happened. How serendipitous.

I got a giant cinnamon roll at the diner with Kathy the day before and when my stomach grumbled, I pulled over at the nearest scenic spot. A lovely river with a tiny beach and a picnic table was a perfect spot to take a breakfast break. 

I then carried on all the way to Rushmore, noting Crazy Horse and the Needles Highway were very close. Mt. Rushmore is a bit Disney-esque. It's very people-y with a lot of signage, very clean, and very efficient. I wasn't mad about it. I parked, walked right up to the memorial, took a few photos, and then decided to relax.

I watched the little movie in the museum, read a bunch of the placards, hit the chaotic gift shop, and finally, obtained sustenance. My sister recommended the Thomas Jefferson vanilla ice cream (check) and then because I can't live on ice cream alone, I got a salad and a Fresca. 

Then I headed back to my car and changed my shorts again. Because fuck perimenopause and these stupid heavy periods. I decided I had so much time and could do Crazy Horse and the Needles and still have time. So I went to Crazy Horse and did the bare minimum movie and museum. Then it was time for the Needles Highway!

I hate being a passenger (re: SO MUCH) on a sketchy mountain road, but totally don't mind as a driver. As I wound to the top, I took tons of videos with my glasses and was super excited to share them with Adam. The one-way tunnels were crazy, but we were all on tourist time. I was loving this crazy little detour. 

Until I noticed my dashboard. Oh. My. God. Does that say my PSI on the driver's side passenger is 7? Seven? SEVEN? Fuuuuuuuuck. 

My adrenaline is literally spilling out of my ears. I'm by myself, on a sketchy road, 80 billion miles from home, 20 billion miles from the nearest town. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!!!

I am in a line of cars and there is no place to pull off for what felt like eternity. It's been 10+ years since I've changed a tire. And I'm in a rental with a fucked ankle. Oh, and did I mention it's 100°+ outside? And while I have satellite phone service (smart last minute move), the internet service is still very sketchy.

When I get to an area to pull off safely, the tire pressure is 5. I can visibly see it's flat, but I don't see any obvious damage. I throw apart the car and quickly realize there is no spare tire. 

What. The. Fuck. 

I quickly look up the nearest gas station on the map and fret because it's at least 30 minutes away.

Little did I know that the route takes me on ANOTHER crazy road with single-lane tunnels and crazy cliffs. I'm going so slow because it's so dangerous and watching the PSI inch towards zero.

I finally arrive at the gas station and there is no “free air” sign. Hell, there is no air sign. Just a couple pumps and a store. I begin to head inside when I notice the key for the rental car has a phone number for roadside emergencies. I eventually sort out getting a tow truck sent, a replacement car, and realize I might miss the window to check into my campsite. I text with Adam to tell him I'm safe and it's sorted, but that I'll probably owe 80 billion dollars for the emergency services. 

Luckily, the next couple of hours were really good all things considered. The camp had no issue with my late arrival and even moved me to a closer site so I could easily find my way. The tow truck driver was super nice and we chatted the entire drive to the Rapid City airport. I basically told him my entire life story in 45 minutes and asked him all about South Dakota. He gave me a great tip to check out Spearfish Canyon. When he offered to carry my bag inside the rental facility at the airport, I let him. I picked up my new car and then stopped at a convenience store for ice and another shitty canned coffee (for the morning).

Despite the crazy day, I got to my campsite before dark and was able to set up my tent, take a much-needed shower, and eat a baguette and fruit at the picnic table for dinner. I read for short while in my tent before falling asleep.

I woke up at 5am or so and broke down my camp quickly and quietly. I then looked at my options for the day. I wanted to go to North Dakota and I had a campsite reserved in the Badlands that night. Otherwise, I had no plans. And the campsites were only $35-$40 so if I had to abandon my plans, I wasn't out a ton of money. I decided to let fate intervene and put in directions to also go through Spearfish Canyon. It was an extra hour, but all I had was time. 

On the way there, I passed runners in what looked to be a marathon in the Black Hills. There was a pang of jealousy and a little sadness that I was supposed to be racing at that exact moment myself.

But I mostly forgot about it the rest of the day. The canyon road was gorgeous. The Spearfish Creek runs alongside the road and giant rock formations jut up on either side. There were a few cyclists and other drivers out on the road, but it was fairly quiet in the early morning hours. I was lucky to come upon a few mountain goats who were near the road and munching on vegetation for breakfast.

I stopped my car and watched the river for a few minutes, enjoying a little morning zen. Eventually, I exited the canyon road and drove through Spearfish on my way north. It wasn't too long before I came to the long stretch of nothing on my way to North Dakota. I checked the gas station situation before I got too far and there appeared to be a few options both before and after hitting the border. 

The road stretched on for miles and the treeless fields stretched even further. I spotted a few antelope galloping a few hundred meters away from the road. The sun was shining and my playlist was perfect. I eventually pulled into a small town to fill up and grab a late breakfast of a sausage biscuit and a second coffee. Both were perfectly mediocre which was kind of comforting for whatever reason. 

My GPS spit me onto an unpaved road for about 10 miles and I got nervous for a minute that something terrible was going to happen again to my (new) car. It was extremely desolate and while I normally pride myself in being able to run for miles, this was not currently the case. Eventually, I came back to a paved road and breathed a sigh of relief. 

I made it to the border sign and snapped a North Dakota selfie. A mom and 2 kids were doing the same on the other side. I offered to take a photo for them, but she declined as they had a fancy tripod set up and informed me they did this at every border. Okkkkkay. Maybe I was being sensitive about being alone in that moment, but it really rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe I needed another snack. I dunno. I drove a quarter mile or so and then made a u-turn to go back into South Dakota, stopping to get a selfie.

Then it was a long drive to the Badlands on country roads full of endless fields and very few other cars. I arrived at a gas station just outside of the park to refuel and take a bathroom break. I searched for a place to eat lunch and found something pretty close by, just on the other side of the park exit. I decided to buy a National Parks Pass at the entrance and thought I might be holding up the line while they got me set up. But the guy just asked if I was a citizen, sized me up, looked at my license, and took my credit card. It was weird. But then I had a pass.

Coming into the park was wow, wow, wow. Almost immediately the views changed into huge spirals of rocks and the roads wound through these monoliths. I was headed to the lunch spot, but noted where my campground was and the nearby visitor's center. 

I exited the south side of the park and arrived at where I thought I'd have lunch. I pulled into the taco stand, but there was just one car in the parking lot and I couldn't see inside. A handwritten sign on the window said girls, girls, girls, live shows. I just wanted lunch. Not a show. I contemplated another nearby restaurant, but it looked equally uninviting so I headed back to the park and hoped the visitor's center had something.

They had a counter restaurant and I ordered a bison Indian taco with a fountain soda. It was too late in the afternoon to drink Diet Coke and sleep well, but I was craving one and hey, it's vacation. I looked over the map of the park while I ate and plotted the rest of my day in the air conditioning. It was nearing 110° outside and even with the air on full blast in the car, it never was chilly. 

I picked up a few souvenirs in the gift shop for myself, Adam, and Megan. Then I headed out to explore the park. I stopped at the first trailhead and wandered out about 100 yards before deciding it was far too hot and dangerous on my ankle to go further. So I stuck to the boardwalks and short paths after that. I drove to each little spot on the right side of the road heading west. I made my way to the prairie dog town area and stood long enough to see some hanging out near their holes before leaping back into the ground. 

As I got to the far end of the park, I decided to go into Wall and check out the tourist shops. It was even crazier than Mt. Rushmore. Katherine asked if I could look for a prairie dog hat for Fritz, but I never found one despite going into a ton of little stores. 

I decided to try to take my time getting back to the campground to stay out of the heat. But, I wanted enough daylight to set up camp and eat some dinner. Plus, there was a ranger and astronomy talk at the amphitheater right next to the campsite that I wanted to attend that evening. 

I called Adam at one of the lookouts on the way back and got to show him a little bit of the park via video. I'd been sharing pictures and videos and told him that while the weather would've been terrible for him (re: hot as bejesus), there were actually tons of accessible things to see. 

The counter service spot seemed like a great idea for dinner, but they were closed when I got back. So I went into the little town that had the girls, girls, girls taco stand and went to the gas station in search of dinner provisions. I bought a pint of strawberries, a twin pack of cheese sticks, and a bag of ice. 

Back at camp, I put my split of champagne in the bag of ice along with a beer. I then set up my tent and got everything ready for the evening and next morning. It was going to rain overnight so I wanted to make sure I also had my rain tarp on and all my gear ready in case I needed to hop in the car and/or leave early in the morning. 

I popped the champagne and ate some strawberries, cheese, and crackers (salvaged from the charcuterie kit). As I watched the sunset, I snapped a bunch of photos of the cloudy sky and enjoyed this very carefree moment. I decided to pour my beer in my reusable cup and head to the amphitheater. The astronomer had already set up the telescope to view the moon and invited everyone to come look. Unfortunately, as I was standing waiting, the clouds covered the moon for essentially the rest of the night. 

The talks were interesting and I really appreciated this little extra thing the parks do on summer nights. The amphitheater was packed by the time it started and I was glad I got there early. When it was over, I rushed to the nearest restroom and then headed to my tent. 

It was really warm for 10pm and the rain tarp made it like a sauna. So I took it off, knowing I'd be putting it back on at some point. It was too warm to sleep easily so I lied wide awake, cursing the Diet Coke from earlier in the day. Eventually I dozed off because the next thing I knew, I was being rained on. At first it felt good because it was finally cool, but then I needed to get the tarp on. 

About a half hour later, the real storm came rolling through. My body weight was the only thing keeping my tent on the ground. The wind was so strong that the sides were plastered against my body. I was wide awake as I watched the lightning light up the inside of the tent and listened to it crackle. 

The only good news was that I remained perfectly dry despite the fact that I was nearly certain my tent was going to be ripped apart. I thought about going to my car, but breaking down my tent in the dark, rain, and wind seemed like a recipe for disaster. And I certainly couldn't get out of it without it blowing away, even though it was staked down.

I eventually passed out again and woke at first light. The wind was still whipping so loudly that it kept me awake and so after lying there with the tent smacking me in the face, I just decided to get going.

After taking out the poles, I threw the wet shell of the tent in the back of the car and would deal with it later. I used this time where it finally was a bit cooler to go walking around on a few of the shorter trails in the Badlands. I really wanted to go on the full Notch trail, but it has a very sketchy ladder section and I thought better of it with my ankle when I saw how steep it was. 

But I did see a mountain goat on this trail and spent probably 20 minutes just watching it go about its morning. I snapped a few sunrise photos and then went to visit a few other really short trails. 

I was wearing my new Badlands shirt and hobbling around with one trekking pole. I told people coming in the opposite direction about the mountain goat and gave directions to a trail in the parking lot. Maybe I looked official? Maybe it was the bold confidence of being a haggard single traveler? 

It was about 7am when I was finished with my tour and so I stopped at the visitor's center for a breakfast bowl and iced coffee. Then I did one more walk through the visitor's center and tried to decide where to go with the ultimate goal of getting to Scottsbluff, Nebraska that evening. 

I landed on going to the White River Visitor's Center after the ranger mentioned it in his talk the night before. The drive was stunning, but very remote. This tiny little center seemed to exist in the middle of nowhere. A few indigenous people were selling crafts outside the center and I said good morning before going inside. I read all about the Lakota people and the surrounding lands at the center. All things that my late 80s/early 90s education seemed to be missing. It's really shitty what settlers did to the land and people. And with my family being from the Midwest, it's highly likely due to at least someone in my blood lineage. I think about how so much of what I've ever read in terms of history comes with so much propaganda and influence from the person writing it. All the more reason to continue traveling with an open mind and open heart to learn that our existence on this planet are all so vastly different.

As I exited and tried to figure out my next steps, I hemmed and hawed about it. I had so much time, but wasn't sure if I wanted to drive any more than I already had. Ultimately, I went for the longer route to try to see some more of Custer State Park. 

Once I got back to the park, the entrance worker scolded me for “transferring my tag” that I had bought a few days prior. It was a sticky tag that adhered to the windshield and I pulled it off the flat tire car and kept it for the new car. I explained I had to get a new rental due to the flat and that's why it had been pulled off. She seemed a little skeptical, like I was using someone else's pass, but ultimately let me in. 

As soon as I was on the Wildlife Loop I was rewarded immediately with bison! Multiple herds within the first few miles. I watched them safely from a distance and inside my car. But it's so cool to see them in person. If it hadn't been so hot, I would've watched longer.

I made my way through the park and then exited into Wind Cave National Park where I saw even more bison. At this point, I was getting hungry for lunch so I just drove through to get to the next town.

In Hot Springs, I stopped at an ice cream & burger shop for a locally sourced burger. I was too full for ice cream unfortunately, but it looked incredible. Then it was a very rainy and desolate drive to Nebraska, complete with a wildfire sighting in the distance at one point. 

I made my way to the hotel I reserved and relaxed for a few moments before heading out to explore. I went to Scotts Bluff National Monument, but the upper area was already closed for the day. I was able to explore the area down below and there were brochures available for after hours visitors.

I then went to a park along the North Platte River and watched both the water and a nearby train go by from a bench. My journey was coming to an end and I wanted to enjoy these last few moments of solitude. 

There were a ton of chain restaurants in town, but I was determined to go to someplace local. I drove around awhile until I ended up at an Italian place. I sat at the bar and had a barfly talk my ear off while I wolfed down a stromboli. I normally love random chats, but I just wasn't feeling it and bolted as soon as I could. 

I almost headed back to the hotel directly, but the golden hour skies were absolutely magical. So I spent the next hour driving all around town, hopping out of the car and taking photos of old theaters, silos, dilapidated hotels, sunflowers, water towers, and anything else that looked cool. It reminded me so much of Salina, the town in Kansas that my parents grew up in and that I've spent visiting my whole life. 

Back at the hotel, I finally took a shower after 2 full days of grime and blasted the AC. I slept like a brick and needed my alarm to wake up. 

I had breakfast at the hotel and then headed back to Denver via Wyoming. Kathy offered to pick me up from the car rental facility in downtown Denver and take me to the airport. She got me there in plenty of time and it was nice to spend another half hour chatting with her. 

At the airport, I realized I felt like I'd been gone for weeks. Not just 5 days. The time away from work and mundane chores and caregiving and sadness about my ankle was much needed. Doing what I wanted, when I wanted, in a beautiful place was just the thing I needed. 

Boston 2026: Commit, Then Figure It Out

First and foremost, I have to thank Adam for believing in me when I was sitting rock bottom just a few weeks ago. He never questioned whether or not I could do it and never tried to talk me out of it. He was quietly confident I'd get it done and it's really all I needed to believe in myself. 

Also, I'd be remiss to not thank Megan and Frank who are living angels on earth. I couldn't do it without their help. Their sacrifice to spend their time helping us out multiple times a year is unreal. I'll never be able to thank them enough.

Woof, now I'm all emotional again thinking about it!

I sprained my ankle horribly while attempting a Georgia Loop 3 weeks prior to race day. Alfonso and I were about 21 miles into the run when I landed on it sideways and immediately fell to the ground in excruciating pain. We were 6 miles from the nearest trailhead so I crutched my way out with my trekking poles and expletives flying. 

It swelled and bruised and was very painful from the onset. I could bear weight, but my range of motion was limited. I limped around for a week and then went to the doctor. It wasn't broken, but it was severely sprained. After meekishly asking how dumb it would be to run a marathon on it, she gave me a plan. I'd wear a boot up until Wednesday before the race and then use the next few days to regain some normalcy, if possible.

It didn't feel great when I took the boot off. It still was sore and I was limping quite a bit, scared to land the wrong way on it. 

You might ask why in the world I'd want to go run a marathon on a sprained ankle and risk long-term damage? Well, runners aren't always very smart to begin with. Our hobby involves causing pain to our bodies for hours on end. 

That aside, my Boston streak is really important to me (but me only, I'll add!). If I lose it, I no longer have the advantage of running “just” a qualifying time. If you complete 10 or more consecutive Bostons, you can sign up a week early and don't have to worry about the time cutoff. I have a BQ for 2027 so it was just a matter of finishing 2026. 

I first qualified in 2013 so this is a 13 year journey with a lot of time, money, and consistent effort put into it. So I was determined to at least go try. The doctor thought I was nuts, but she didn't try to talk me out of it so I felt some solace in that. 

I arrived Friday after having a great flight seated in aisle with another runner, Rebecca. I gave away 2 of my bracelets right away! 

After walking through airports, the expo, and up and down Boylston, my feet and legs were achy and sore. My ankle was barking. Ugh. 

Saturday, I did a 1.5 mile run very, very slowly before spectating the 5k. Garmin has jokes.

Ankle status: ugh. I was stepping so gingerly that it made my gait all funky and I just felt uncomfortable. But I was able to run, so this gave me hope. My mom, Jay, and I went to the JFK museum that morning which was really well-done. However, it was a lot of walking and I was looking forward to putting my feet up after lunch. 

I napped in the hotel a bit and then met them again for dinner at an Italian restaurant in the North End. It was very tasty and I was glad I had them to share the weekend with. 

Sunday morning, I went for a 2 mile run and this one felt much better by the end. I started to trust myself a little more and decided that I'd just use KT tape instead of a fabric ankle brace for the race. 

I met my mom and Jay for a bus tour of the course. They had no context of what it looked like so it was fun to point out my favorite parts. Also, I never get to see all the things around the start line so it was cool that they let us off the bus to walk around and take pictures.

Back in Boston, we had lunch at a place that was near my hotel. Kaci Licktieg, a super talented ultrarunner was sitting at the table next to ours! I talked to her for a few minutes and then explained to mom and Jay all her accolades. Ron and Darrell met me at the same restaurant a short while after I finished lunch and so I hung out with them and their wives/friends. 

I managed to kill a good portion of the day which was good. I just needed to get my race kit ready and figure out my race morning plan since there were 6 waves this year. I ordered a pizza for dinner and read for a bit before going to sleep around 10pm. 

My bus time was 8am and they won't let you on any earlier so there's no point in getting there super early. My hotel was a 5 minute walk to bus pickup and I wasn't dropping a bag so even leaving at 7:30 felt early. But I did just in case. 

I had a muffin and coffee in the hotel room and packed a banana, a bottle of Skratch, a Snickers, and a couple of Precision chews. If anything, I was well-fueled!

While waiting for the buses, I started talking with Melyssa and we hit it off so we stayed together until we got to our starting corrals. This year, they had runners stand in individual boxes while lining up for the buses and then sent them to the next bus. It caused quite a backlog and I was glad we were towards the front. 

We made a quick porta potty stop at the Village, but never had time to sit. It was straight to the corrals! I stripped off my Tyvek suit in the corral and talked with a guy standing next to me until the gun went off. 

I only felt a little nervous which is weird given how much could go wrong. But maybe it was just the fact that I truly did not care about how fast it was, just that I finished. 

I placed myself on the far right of the corral and planted myself on that side for nearly the entirety of the race. It was mostly to stay out of the way in the beginning miles, knowing I was starting at a much slower pace than my seed time. 

I was in corral 7 (of 8) in wave 4 and the gun went off at 10:41 am for our race. I was happy to be pretty far back in the wave so I wouldn't feel as much pressure to move with the crowd. The early miles have always felt quite crowded, but either because of how far back I was or the new spread of waves made it better this year. 

I started my watch at 10:44 at the start line and went off into a new unknown. My ankle felt okay walking around in the morning, but I immediately felt the difference when I started the run. It wasn't sharp pain, just a dull reminder it was there. 

I got warm quickly and pocketed my gloves and rolled down my arm sleeves. I thought about tossing my gloves, but was worried that if I needed to walk, I might feel cold. 

As I ran past mile marker 2, I thought about how this was now the longest run I'd had in 3 weeks. Cardio-wise, I realized I was working a bit harder than I should and started backing off the pace a bit to where it felt more comfortable. I never looked at my watch until Boylston as I really just wanted to not worry about it.

Once I settled in, things started to feel okay for a while. I focused on the next tasks throughout the race. I had a gel to take every 4 miles. I decided to drink water every 3 stops and Gatorade at the 4th, then repeat. I thought about getting to Kathleen (mile 15.1), to Linnea (mile 24.1), and then to my mom & Jay (Boylston).

Around the 4 mile mark, a sharp, shooting pain went through my ankle and I slowed a few steps to ease off of it. A surge of panic went through me, what if I couldn't do this? What if I can't even walk fast enough to finish? 

It eased up just as quickly as it started and I spent the next mile going a bit slower. I found another groove and focused on my next tasks. I high-fived so many kids, trying to make sure that I kept it fun. I pointed at people screaming my name and smiled for at least half the race, trying to will myself into believing I could do it. 

I saw a sign that said Adam Strong, a Boston Terrier, and a woman wearing a Run for MS jacket. I took all of these as good omens.

The flattish sections in Ashland and Framingham were relatively uneventful. I had no idea how fast or slow I was going. It did actually feel relatively comfortable in the single digits, aside from my ankle barking.

I tried to remember the things I saw on the tour the day prior, but knew only the “regular” things would stand out as the race wore on. The lake by Natick, the Wellesley girls, the screaming downhill at mile 15, every last Newton hill, etc. 

By mile 10, I could feel the lack of moving for 3 weeks catch up. I'd literally walked 1,000 steps a day the last 3 weeks trying to baby my ankle. My quads were hurting and I don't ever recall this being the case so early in the race. From there on out, I knew I was in for a grind. 

I high-fived a bunch of Wellesley girls, but I was terrified of stopping in that I might do something detrimental getting started again. So it was at that point that I made a deal with myself to try to stay running, even if it was really slow. 

As I neared mile 15, I started scanning the crowds for Kathleen. Even if you know where someone is spectating, it's easy to miss them through the crowds and noise. Luckily, I was able to find her easily and got high fives from her crew. 

I went wheee down the mile 15 hill, resigning that my quads were toast anyway. Because I wasn't aiming for time, I just tried to keep some semblance of a run up the Newton hills. I'm sure there were times I might have been able to power hike them faster, but I didn't want to lose the run momentum. 

I was smiling a lot because despite all the pain, I really was so happy to be there. When I thought about the moment I fell to the ground in the woods a few weeks prior to somehow (stupidly) maybe pulling this off, it was a pretty powerful motivator to see it through.

By the time I got to Heartbreak Hill, I felt absolutely destroyed. My whole body hurt. Every little muscle was aching. I had been eating and drinking really well, but it still felt like the biggest bonk. Somehow I kept trudging forward though, making the most of the (still pretty great) hand I'd been dealt.

By the time I crested Heartbreak, I knew I had to just survive 5.2 more miles. Doing some quick runner math, I knew I could walk pretty slow and still finish so it started to feel real at that point. Boston College breathed new life into me for a mile. It's my favorite section on the course. All the drunk college kids yelling in your face and a downhill to boot. 

Into Brookline I fought like hell to push at any point my body would let me. But then I'd have to pull back and regroup because I really felt like I was riding the edge of my limits. 

I was ticking off the miles to taking a gel at 23, Linnea at 24, Citgo sign at 25. Funny how a mile 3 mile goes by so much faster than a mile 23 mile. My brain was kind of fuzzy and I hoped I had remembered where Linnea was going to be. But then like a lighthouse beacon, I saw her poster and then her screaming and it was the swift kick in the ass I needed to make it to the Citgo sign. 

 

The hill under and up Hereford was actual leg murder. I wondered how in the world I would typically bound up this section. 

My mom and Jay were standing exactly where I told them to on Boylston, but unfortunately I didn't see them in the crowds despite slowing down. I was looking for a waving blue scarf and not their signs, boo! But they saw me so at least it wasn't a complete loss. 

Once I saw the clock on Boylston I then checked my own watch for the first time and saw 3:45:xx. Part of me was sad for a microsecond that I was only going to be a couple minutes from a BQ. 

But then I snapped out of it and was just so elated to be finishing the darn thing. I gave it what little I had in those last few hundred meters. All the emotions flooded me as I neared the final mat. I did it. I really did it. 3:47:11!

Post race, I hobbled through the finish area with the biggest grin on my face. 

It was the slowest meander back to my hotel motivated only by a hot shower and getting off my feet. 

Eventually, once I talked with Adam, drank a celebratory beer, and got halfway presentable for public consumption, I met my mom and Jay at a pub for a burger. They had an earlier flight so we parted ways after dinner. 

I still wanted to celebrate so I went to my hotel bar and befriended some other runners, crashed their dinner, and stayed out until 2am. I slept like hell, but my running (and extrovert!) cup was properly full. 

 

QC's 2025 Recap: The Year of Making My Own Luck

January 

January started off with a Hike Inn loop on New Year's Day with a few of my running buddies. The following weekend, we did a 27 mile loop on the BMT/AT as my last long trail run before Rocky Raccoon. The weather was perfect, but I was still battling some toe pain.

It snowed the following weekend so I was trapped inside for my 20 miler on the treadmill. Ugh. 

The snow cleared enough on the roads the following weekend, but it was still on the trails and we got to slipslide through the woods.

I finally turned the corner on my fitness and toe pain at the end of the month and flew out to Texas with Casey as my crew chief, whose sole job was to tell me, “you look pretty and you're running fast” every loop (which she did without even rolling her eyes because she's amazing like that).

February 

Rocky Raccoon wasn't as fast as 2023's version, but it was way more fun because I ended up running 70 miles with Johana. We finished hand in hand in 22 hours and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect return to this event. 

I spent the following weeks hiking and walking and getting lots of rest. 

Adam finally got his prescribed power chair delivered which became life-changing to maneuver around the bottom floor of our house. We're currently working on getting a vehicle that will accommodate it and that will be even better as it will allow him to return to doing more social things in the world.

March

I decided at the very last minute to sign up for the Atlanta Marathon for fun. Partially to keep my streak of a marathon or ultra distances run each month alive, but also because it had been a few years since I'd run it. It was a cold day and I forgot how hilly it was, but still had a blast doing the thing I love. 

Adam and I celebrated our 17th year in our house with our traditional Mellow Mushroom dinner on our wedding china.

Cassy and I did a monster run on the AT at the end of the month and talked nonstop for our entire drive and run.

Gael, Sarah, and I hung out for our annual Aries brunch while fervently avoiding talks of the age of our friendship.

April

Sara came to town and Adam and I joined her for a late dinner one evening. It's always fun to talk baseball with her. 

I celebrated my 43rd birthday with Adam's cousin and her family who were in town doing college visits from Los Angeles (though failed to take a photo). I tried to put in a good word for my own experience at Emory in hopes we'd get to see the family a bit more. 

Then I was off to Boston to run my 11th marathon there. I went solo this year which was super weird, but also nice to just worry about myself and hole up in my hotel room, gorging on carbs. I met up with a few friends, made a few new ones, and managed to have another magical race. 

At the end of the month, since Cassy was out of town for work, Jared and I went to go see Rufus together on his birthday. It was an amazing show!

May

At the beginning of the month, I headed to Key West for a reward trip for work. The highlight was a deep sea fishing day in which we caught tons of snapper, grouper, mahi-mahi, tuna, and even a couple of sharks! I tried all the key lime pies, went for a few sunrise runs, and visited a few of the touristy spots like the Hemingway house. 

My sister celebrated her 40th birthday and the whole family went out for fancy steak dinner.

At the end of the month, Roger came to town to run part of SCAR with me in NC/TN while Casey provided the most amazing crewing. It was a bucket list run for me and though it was incredibly hard, it was also really rewarding to see this one through fruition finally. Also, I adore any time I get to spend in the Smokies. 

June

I got right back to it after SCAR with just a few days off, but really just by way of a lot of very long and verty runs. I hit Yonah, a Brasstown triple, a midday AT run from Neel's Gap, and a Bloody Coosa. All of this was also to test carrying my enormous pack that was required for Eiger and moving over mountains for a long period of time. 

Other highlights included beginning a mentor program at work, going to a Zach Top/Dierks Bentley concert, and picking thousands of blueberries from my yard.

July

Alfonso and I pushed for Ainsley's Angels for the local 4th of July 5k. Adam and I hosted our annual event that evening and my sister's family made it there despite having flown from the UK that morning. 

And then in mid-July, it was time for the big event! Megan H. and Adam's brother and dad came to help with Adam and the puppies while I went gallivanting around Europe for 2 weeks. Megan L. and I met up with Roger in Switzerland to run Eiger 250. Unfortunately, Roger had to drop about 50 miles into the course, but Megan and I were able to successfully finish the ~177 miles in 86 hours. It was the hardest physical thing I've ever done and the most beautiful. I'm not sure if it's uncouth to say you're proud of yourself, but I sure was. 

The 3 of us went on a massive road trip after the race, traveling through Luxembourg, Belgium, and France. We wandered cobblestone streets in Luxembourg city, ate mussels in Brussels, found ourselves in a music festival in Ghent, put our feet in the Atlantic in Dunkirk, toasted champagne atop the Eiffel Tower, ate a croissant the size of my head, and thoroughly exhausted our livers. 

August

Back home and still exhausted, I clawed my way back to some semblance of running. Because, well, I was headed back to Europe the following month to run the Berlin Marathon! 

We had our builder-grade shower door replaced so it was easier for Adam to get in and out of and replaced a few toilets for taller versions for the same reason. We also had a few trees in our yard professionally trimmed and a couple of evergreens removed. 

Our oldest Boston Terrier, Riley, developed a fast-growing tumor on the side of her face and I spent every other week taking her to the vet, keeping her as comfortable as we could. 

September 

Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to our sweetest girl early in the month. I've owned dogs most of my life and it never gets easier. We hope she's resting easy on a fuzzy pillow on the other side of the rainbow bridge.

I crashed Jared and Cassy's anniversary by going to Nine Inch Nails with them. We were in the first row of seats behind the pit - 15 year old me would be stoked to know this would happen in our lifetime.

At mid-month, I flew back over the pond to Berlin for a very whirlwind marathon major trip. I spent an afternoon in Poland on Friday, ran the 5k on Saturday, and squeaked out a BQ at the (very hot) marathon on Sunday. I soaked in a little history and culture, ate in funky little cafes, and became an expert train rider. 

October

I volunteered at the Bull Mountain Epic and spent a few hours in the woods slinging Coke and PBJs at runners. It's been harder for me to volunteer more recently, but this one's timing worked out! Jared and I ran Woody to Blood Mountain, one of my favorite routes on a spectacular fall day. 

Early in the month, my sister, her husband, Adam, and I went out for Thai food and saw Latrez Anderson, a comedian. 

Adam and I went to Frankie's, a nearby steakhouse for our 17th anniversary and tested out a new portable power chair. Nothing like trying to figure out how to maneuver and lift a power chair in a dress and heels.

At the end of the month, I ran the Spinx Marathon in Greenville for fun. I dressed like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and got lots of cheers along the way. My friend Matt PR'd and came in 1st place masters!

For Halloween, I continued my full-size candy bar tradition. We had 146 trick-or-treaters this year!

November 

With Adam's new chair, we went out and enjoyed some fall colors along the Greenway one really nice afternoon and had beers at Cherry Street.

Alfonso and I ran at Tallulah Gorge and raced the Dashing with the Glow 5k for Ainsley's Angels at Lake Lanier. It was a very fun race where lots of people (including us) wore festive holiday gear and we all got a first look at the lights on the lake. 

Sarah, Gael, and I got together for another Aries brunch. I guess this one was for our half-birthdays. We finally got to see the northern lights which was really incredible to see with the naked eye. 

Alfonso and I ran the worst trail of our lives in Western North Carolina and spent the better part of 27 miles having our legs shredded by overgrowth. 

At the end of the month, Roger came to town for Thanksgiving. I ran the Gobble Wobble 5k on Thanksgiving morning and then hosted a very small dinner for Roger, Adam, my dad, and stepmom. Even though I love to cook, all I had to make was the mashed potatoes and whipped cream. Work was particularly busy the month of November for me so I was grateful for a very easy to-do list that week!

Roger and I ran a few times together over the next week and hung out until it was time to go to Rehoboth.

December 

Roger and I flew up together and landed in a snowy Baltimore. Thankfully, it wasn't sticking because this southerner is not cut out for driving in that. We met up with Angie and made our way to the Rehoboth. There was Dogfish Head, family dinner, running, the beer tent, and the Purple Parrot. But minimal shenanigans since we were “home” by 10pm Saturday.

I dropped Roger and Angie off at BWI and then made my way to New Jersey for a few days there and New York for work. I felt like I was running on fumes when I finally made it home that week. 

But no rest for the weary because that Saturday I ran a 5k with my 10 year old nephew and a 1k with my 7 year old niece. My nephew plays travel soccer and this might be the last year I can run with him!

We hosted a family Christmas dinner at our house that Sunday and would later find out it was a little bittersweet because my brother and his wife are moving to Maryland early next year. I've always said my family keeps me in Atlanta so it'll be weird to not live close. There were a few years in our teens/20s that we were at college and living in different cities, but the siblings have all been in Atlanta since 2007. 

We had our traditional Christmas Eve at Waffle House with dear friends and went to my sister's house for Christmas Day.

I spent the last few days of the year either working or sumitting Georgia mountains, reflecting fondly on another jam-packed adventure around the sun.