Tag Archives: life

What Learning to Run Thirteen Miles Taught Me About Life


I’ve been feeling like writing something graduation-speechy (after having to endure some truly terrible graduation speeches) lately. Inspiring the masses with some token advice is totally a skill I’d like to develop.

So, I thought I would tie 5,000+13.1 up with a nice big red, sappy bow: what I learned about myself during those 5 or 6 months that I ran for hours at a time on the weekends, tracking sweat all down the North Oval and questioning why I keep doing it. It’s distinctly different than what I learned about running, and it needs to be said. Because I think it will help someone who was just like me. 

Here it is: my big piece of advice in one neat line…

…dreams don’t always find you.

Sometimes you have to find them. Sometimes you have to do something insane to realize what you’re really made of. Sometimes you have to just randomly select a goal out of the ether, and see if it works for you. You have to decide to go run three miles (?!?!) with your best friend through Dallas even though you’ve never done it before. You, the girl they shouted “Run, Forrest, Run” at during soccer practice. You, the one who always copped out of working as hard as the other cheerleaders because you were fatter and “couldn’t do as much”. You have to decide to do something you’ve never done before.

And then, of course, you have to see where it goes. You might end up hating the thing you choose to try out. I’m sure if I had decided to take up fly fishing or calculus, I wouldn’t be feeling so fulfilled at the moment. Don’t consider yourself a failure if you don’t know what you want. Figure it out, and don’t beat yourself up about it.

After that 5k, I decided to run one mile a day for a year. That was my 2012 New Year’s resolution. And then I did more. And then I watched “Spirit of the Marathon”, came out of my boyfriend’s room into the living room, and announced to three other people that I was running a half-marathon.

And so goes the growth of a dream.

If you could have gone back to January 1, 2012 and ask me if I would ever run a half-marathon, I would have shamelessly laughed in your face. “Me? I’m a terrible runner. I’ve never been good at running. What a joke.”

I have always dreamed of being strong. To have toughness, both mental and physical. Most of the time, I feel very weak. I cry a lot, over silly things that shouldn’t get to me, but do. I don’t feel strong during most of my daily life.

The half-marathon made me feel strong. I never felt weak, never felt like I wasn’t good enough, never felt like I wasn’t achieving something great each time I trained or talked about it. Now that I’ve technically achieved my dream, I’m going after more. A two-and-a-half-hour half in the fall, then maybe an even shorter one after that. I want to always feel this strong.

I beg you to try something new. If you feel like I did, like you have no real dreams, like you are weak, like you have never truly achieved anything great, do something you’ve never done before and do it with your whole heart.

There was a time when I thought I had no dreams. Now I know that I was wrong.

My life



my car failed Texas inspection.


So, I’m spending another night in Texas.

Which throws off pretty much my whole weekly schedule.


I have a cold.

The drama queen is off to blow her nose and edit some video.



They get snowcones with you, even though you’ve been eating snowcones at a rate of like 4 a week.

snow cone, summer, fun, sister,

One is such a lonely number.

snow cone, summer, fun, sister,

Much better together.

Later, we snuggled in bed with the puppies and watched “Girls” and “The Newsroom” and read Cosmo.

Love you, D!



Instead of working out this morning, I got out of bed, brushed my teeth, put on real pants and drove home to Dallas.

Instead of eating on the way home, I waited until 4 to eat lunch/dinner with my parents, who work approximately 37 hours a day.

Instead of running tonight (it’s still 90 degrees out), we took the dog for a walk and saw two rabbits.

Instead of washing clothes, I’m blogging!

Sometimes it’s okay to not do what you planned to do.

Things That I Find Suspicious About Country Music


Now, now, calm down, Southern readers. I love (most) country music. I own cowboy boots. I was raised on Alan Jackson. I’ve spent a pretty penny on country concert tickets.

ticket, music, country, eric church, oklahoma,

miranda lambert, country, cowboy,

Me and B before a Miranda Lambert show.

See? I love country music…

…just not all of it.

The Two Things That I Find Suspicious About Country Music

  1. The song “Shake it For Me” by Luke Bryan. It feels degrading to me. Are you paying this woman that you’re seemingly forcing to dance for you while you sit on your truck and watch? At least tuck a dollar into her tied-up plaid shirt.
  2. Country songs talk a lot about keeping money in coffee cans under the bed. Do we not believe in banks? Is this not the 21st century? You can trust the bank. I promise the FDIC is a real thing.

There you go. See? My two biggest problems with the genre are one song and a lack of a checking account.


Photo of the Day: A postcard from Katie!

For more pictures from my life, see the Photo of the Day archives!

God bless Texas.


I’m home! Finally back in the 972/214/469. Time to lay on the couch, watch some trash tv and cuddle with my dog. Can I get an amen?!

Unfortunately, because I have no brains, I left my computer charger at school, in my boyfriend’s apartment. So…no extensive blogging until this weekend, when I can drive back to Nompton to get it. Until then, PictureFest!

Riding in Cars, a Love Story (pt. 1)


Waxing poetic in the ATM line.

Only two cars in front. 

Lucky day.

Rolling stops while trying to dig out the ATM card from my wallet-

why are there cards folded around it?

why are there so many straw wrappers in here?

why do I keep grabbing my fro yo frequent buyer card?

Slam on brakes.

Roll forward again,


Roll past the ATM machine a little,


Slide my card.

Make my deposits.

Hear audible sighs from the car behind me-

yes, sir, it is my right as an American to deposit both cash AND checks at this ATM right now.

Fly enters through my opened window.

Grab receipt.

Roll forward while doing the dance,

buckle seatbelt,

put the ATM card back with the straw wrappers,

roll window up.

Come to the intersection.





So, yesterday I ran my second ever 5k.

My first ever in 18 degrees.

For this race, I threw fashion out the window. It’s hard to see your cute leggings and matching compression top when you’re wearing two pairs of pants, two long sleeve shirts, a hoodie, and the race shirt over that. Add a grey ear warmer, my standby blue Nike hat and a balaclava to the mix, and I’m that kid from A Christmas Story.

Or I’m a bank robber dressed in a tutu and listening to a 3OH!3 Pandora station.

The race itself was less agonizing than one would think running 3.1 miles in 18 degree weather would be. I got warm fast, and the balaclava became somewhat unnecessary. The tutu, of course, was very necessary. The first two miles were a breeze. And then…my right foot felt funny…oh wait, it’s now numb. Party foul, foot. The extra pair of socks I wore managed to both keep me warm and cut off my circulation really well.

Despite my right foot bowing out of the race, I still finished within 20 seconds of my 36 minute goal. I was nearly four minutes faster than the 5k I ran 2 months ago.

A small but meaningful victory.

(Yes, the picture says 36.25. My time is based on the chip times of the people around me, because mine fell off during the race, effectively making me a big sad DNF. It took me at least 6 or 7 seconds to cross the start line. Trust me.)



Today, I…

-took a final.

-cleaned my room (a little).

-folded clothes (most of them).

-went to Sonic (yum!).

-made a necklace (with inspiration from Cheetah is the New Black).

-went thrifting (black velvet skirt + white lace top).

Today I will…

-go to a Dirty Santa party.

-celebrate my great-grand-big’s 24th birthday.

-dress cutely.