National Novel Writing Month starts tomorrow and I promised myself that, somehow, by the end of the day, I would post something on this blog. Maybe not the perfect thing—I’m about to write 50,000 very imperfect words in thirty days, so getting used to doing things imperfectly is a good idea—but SOMEthing. An update. Seeing as my last post was in March 2016.

The longer I go without an update the harder it is to do one. So many things have happened. The website needs a redesign. So many things have changed. But November starts tomorrow, and I’m going to begin the exact same challenge I’ve completed every November since 2013, so that’s something. The older I get, the more stock I put in having things that I do. Not things that I want to do, or hope to do, or plan to do. Things that I actually, consistently, do, even when it isn’t easy to do them.

The biggest thing I’ve done this past year is running. I’m close to a full year of at least one run a week (and usually five or more). I’ve been a casual runner for years, I’ve posted about running here before, but this is the first time I’ve stuck with it for more than a few

My 2016-2017 run calendar (days I ran are in pink).

weeks, or more than a season. My story is that winter last year was rough. Rough for the nation, yes, but I had some personal frustrations hitting at around the same time. I was angry and confused and embarrassed and sad, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I started running. Even though it was cold and dark and being outside was the worst thing ever. Running was just suddenly all I wanted to be doing, so I kept doing it. I also started showing up, obsessively, to the Thursday and Saturday hashes (a hash is an adventure run with beer). We started a new practice run on Mondays. I think we ran through nearly every single blizzard last winter. And here’s where I get a little sappy, but I am so grateful for this rotating crew of beautiful souls that I get to spend the majority of my free time with. Maybe it’s not so exceptional, maybe people are amazing the world over, but I can’t help but feel that my friends are something extra shiny. I’m always looking around me, just, so delighted that we’re all here, we’re running through streets at night, we’re following trail through a foot of snow, we’re singing under bridges, we’re wearing silly costumes, we’re getting lost in the woods—and so many other things. Y’all are constantly warming my heart.

In the spring I signed up for a 10k (Beach to Beacon, Aug. 5th), which kickstarted my more serious running. At the time, running six miles seemed like an awful lot. At the same time I also started hanging with a super cool and supportive group of more runny runners, people that run VERY FAR distances and have multiple marathons under their belts. Turns out that sort of thing rubs off on you. Before I even ran the 10k (my first race ever!) I had signed up for my first marathon (MDI Marathon, Oct. 15th).

You know that cliché (I think there’s a meme) about single people in their 20s and 30s watching enviously as their friends get engaged, get married, buy houses, have kids, etc? My recommendation to anyone who feels that they haven’t had a Life Event in awhile is to run a marathon. I’m very willing to believe that my friends and family are particularly incredible, but all the support and congratulations I’ve received have made me feel like a goddamn rockstar. Have I mentioned yet that y’all are the absolute best and I love you very much?

In lieu of any sort of race details, since most people reading this will have already heard all about it, here is a visual representation of the difference between the first half of the marathon (mile 7 I think) and the second half:

So I started out last year with exactly one winter running outfit that wasn’t even real run clothes. Now I have an Entire Drawer stuffed full of run clothes and spandex. I used to run so sporadically that I wore a single pair of run shoes from the summer of 2012 to March of this year, 2017, when they were literally falling to pieces on trail and had holes in the soles. Now, I’ve already run over 400 miles in the shoes I purchased mid-July. Oh, and I also do a pretty intense circuit training class twice a week (minus the three weeks resting for and then recovering from the marathon). When I started the class back in July I could barely bench press the 45 lb bar even once, and now I can usually do it for the full minute. Maybe soon I’ll add weights! Mostly my goal here is the pretty shallow one of turning fat into muscle and looking like as much of a badass as my genetics will allow (#buffquest!!!), but I’m also doing it for that teenage girl who was completely humiliated in high school gym class when they counted how many chin-ups/pull-ups you could do, in front of all the athletic popular kids, and she couldn’t even hang from the bar for a full second. Ever since then I’ve had a life goal of doing a pull-up—just one—and this is the first time in my life I’m actually consistently working in the right direction to make that happen.

To wrap up: I feel like I’ve changed a lot and come a long way. I’m going into November physically stronger than I’ve ever been, twenty lbs lighter, and with a higher confidence in my own abilities to stay a course and to do the things that I set out to do. There are still things in my life I am not proud of, there are things I am working on, and there’s an awful lot I’m still searching for. So, as always, an awful lot of journey still to do. For the next step, I’m gonna write 50,000 words in November, and I’m gonna keep running.