The Story of Us

Breaking News: IT'S VALENTINE'S DAY! The day where flower prices rise 146,000% and silly gifts are given to show each other affection. 

Listen, I'm not person who needs anything on Valentine's Day. Buy me flowers on a random Monday. Take me out to dinner for a date night. Get me a card to tell me you are thinking about me on a different day. But this holiday is essentially meaningless to me. (but I full-heartedly believe that others can celebrate this day with true love. And cheers to you!)

The funny part about that statement is that I absolutely love love. Like, way too much. I'm fully invested in all things love. Movies, television shows, love in a new relationship, love at weddings and pretty much every other version of it. And my favorite love story of all, is my own. I may be biased. But I'll share it anyway, just in case you all are interested. 

Young Love 

I met my husband when I was 16 years old. Actually, maybe younger, but I didn't really get to know him until I was 16. You could say we are high school sweethearts. Our year together was full of laughing, sunshine, tubing (on the lake for those not familiar with water sports), and everything that goes with the term "young love". It was movie-worthy. 

Us at 16/17. Just babies! 

However, we dated a year and then broke up for a few different reasons. I was devastated. Our young love was wrapped around the death of his brother and filling holes in aching hearts. Not really how love at that age should start. 

The other reason our breakup caused so much heartache was that I fully believed that I was told by God himself, that I was meant for him. Not in a dream or a vision or anything epic, but a very strong feeling the first time I really spent time with him. It was overwhelming and I didn't even know how to put those feelings into words. It sounds silly to hear that I knew I was supposed to be with my husband at 16. Most high schoolers would say something like that. And really, it sounds like puppy love. And while that was apart of it, my heart knew there was a bigger picture to us. 

So when he broke up with me before spending a year in Germany for college, my whole world flipped. Hadn't God specifically told me that I was made for this man? That I was the reason we'd make it through this tough and tragic time. Clearly, I had heard God but couldn't understand what that meant at such a young age. 

Because I was convinced that we were meant to be together, we stayed friends. For six years. And I loved him the entire time. I would read through my Bible and Bible study literature to try to figure out why we weren't together. I prayed about it, journaled about it, and assumed I would be back together with this boy sooner than later. But as the years passed, we were still just friends. 

Eventually (years into the friendship zone) I made the realization that maybe what God had meant was that I was going to be important in his life for a small amount of time. Or that I was going to make an impact as a friend. It's not the answer I wanted. It's not what I wanted to accept. But the facts were in front of me. He was even so bold as to tell me in the kitchen of his parent's house, very matter-of-factly, that we would never date again. Knife. To. The. Heart.

When It All Changed 

It wasn't until I let him go, that he came back. I had finally thrown out my memorabilia box of all the things we had collected when we were together (movie stubs, photos, cards, a fork from a special dinner) and understood that God's plan for us was not what I wanted it to be. And I was willing to accept that. And funny enough, when I finally let go of my idea of God's plan for me, He revealed to me his intent. But it took me letting go of what I held on to so dearly. In Proverbs 3: 5-6 it says: 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding ; in all your ways submit to Him, and he will make your paths straight

I'm sure there are several other verses that speak to this same thing, but I had to let go and know that God had a plan. 

In March of 2010, we decided over a long talk and a few other things, that we should give a relationship another go. And it wasn't easy. How do we go back into this thing we had what basically felt like a lifetime ago? How do we find peace in what was happening and how it could end like the time before? But we did it. We managed. We got through the awkwardness. We survived the barrage of questions from friends and family. We found our footing once again. And it was better than ever. 

One of the first pictures of "us part 2"

Love and Other Things 

Almost 4 1/2 years later, he finally proposed. You must be thinking, "4 1/2 years?! Why?! How?!" Don't worry. I thought the same thing too. There were many nights that I felt doubtful, that I felt that I had stepped back into the same predicament I had been in high school. I felt like we would never move forward. I moved a few times, he was accepted to a school in Boston, I was 27 and feeling anxious. It just never seemed that we would make it work. But whoever came up with the phrase "absence makes the heart grow fonder" nailed it. (update: looked it up. Apparently it was in Poetical Rhapsody in 1602. Who knew?!) Within a month of being away, he proposed. Flew home, faked me out, the whole shebang. He had even booked our wedding venue. It was magical. Surreal. Shocking. All of these things. 

Once again, I found myself knowing that it's all in God's timing. We are all foolish to believe we are the ones in control. 

A 10-year lapse photo. Same wedding venue, 10 years apart 

We were married several months later in the most enchanting place that we could have ever imagined. It was a sight to see. I had my flowing dress, the dress I had dreamed about for years since my younger years. He wore a suit that fit him like a glove. We were married under a beautiful tree with branches that bowed down and then back up, enveloping us in it's essence. Our closest friend was our pastor and spoke beautifully. The best man gave an Oscar-worthy speech and referred to our time apart as the "Great Mistake". It will be one of my most cherished days on this earth. 

One of my top photos from our wedding 

11 years after we met, we were married. Was it worth the wait? Was it worth the heartache and the tears and the sleepless nights? Yes. I'd do it all over again. Every step of it. God allowed us to grow and understand His plans for us. I am in a special place. I've known my husband for 14 years. I know his quirks, his annoyances, his aspirations, his frustrations, his heart. I get to be the person that has known this man for so long, that I've seen him grow and thrive and fall. What a gift. I fall more in love with him everyday, even when we have the bad days. Even when we sit and watch Netflix for an entire evening. 

So this post is to the man that I will continue to love for the rest of my life and then some. 

Always, 
A 

Finding Your Race in a Sea of Races

This is one of my first pins on Pinterest, and I am still in love with it every time I see it: 

I am that kid. Even though I love running and have been an avid runner for several years, I'm still pretty sure I look like I'm being chased. 

My Love/Hate Relationship With Outdoor Running 

Since it's now February, I'm starting to feel antsy about joining another race. I am NOT a winter runner. Well, let me take that back. I don't like to run outdoors if it's rainy, snowy, windy, cold, too hot, humid, or all uphill. You must be wondering how on earth I EVER run out side. Good question. 

While yes, I am a treadmill runner (temperature that's controlled and a TV. You can't go wrong), I do like the occasional outside run. My husband and I currently live near a chain of lakes that are pretty much connected to one another. Because of the proximity these lakes have to the city, there are some very beautiful and extremely extravagant homes that border all of three of them. If I'm feeling like a short run, I run around the middle lake, which happens to be a perfect 5k (3.1 miles in non-runner speak). You get a view of the sailboats, those who enjoy slacklining, frisbee players, dog walkers, and sun bathers. It's a beautiful mix of the people around you. And just when you are starting to feel exhausted, it's over! Then, if I'm feeling like a rockstar, I can circle two lakes and that gets me to right around the 5 mile mark. When I was training for my half marathon last year, all three lakes equaled around 10 miles. 10 miles of beauty. Makes you feel slightly better about having getting to run for that distance. 

Of course, in the land of Minnesota, there are many many lakes to run around, but we also have plenty of state parks that have magnificent bike/run trails. I don't hit those up as often as I should, but every time I do, I'm pleased. 

Needless to say, Minnesota has a breathtaking landscape to run around. If you've never been, you're missing out. 

My First Race

I lead you to believe this blog post is about picking a race... don't worry. It is. 

When I first decided to run a race, I think it was pretty much chosen for me. I worked at a bank in a smaller city, and everywhere you went, you saw a posting for a 5k race that raised money for cancer. That seemed legit. And at that point I was already running 2 miles on my longer runs. What's another mile? 

I think I told a handful of people about the race, but definitely didn't invite anyone to come and see me. It seemed silly. What if I didn't finish? What if I was super slow? What is there to even see? I needed to figure it all for myself. 

I timidly joined the hundreds of runners in what felt like a cow pen to help herd us to our death. They were stretching and hydrating and some were in really tight, official running-looking clothing. I was in some gym shorts and the t-shirt they gave to us. I wasn't prepared. I didn't have water. 

Then, suddenly, a horn (or a gun shot? a loud voice in a megaphone? Whatever they do these days) went off and we all started to inch our way forward. What a weird way to start a race I thought. I thought we'd all take off like lightening. False. It is a slow turtle-walk to get to the "start" of the race. 

Once I started, it was easy to know where to go (some people like to look at the course weeks ahead of time so they can either run it or know what to expect, but for my sanity, it's better to be ignorant). I don't remember how I felt. I don't remember if I was dehydrated. I do remember there being a hill we had to run up at the halfway marker. That was brutal. I walked it. I do remember my time was over 30 minutes. But I was proud of myself. I had accomplished a race that I set out to do! I could have easily not shown up. Nobody would have known. But I pulled it off. 

Nothing could be more accurate.

Now, About Those Races... 

After that race, I slowly joined other 5k's. Turkey Trots, Susan G. Komen 5k's, and even a Color Run. Note: If you are at all serious about your pace and timing, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT participate in this race. My friend and I got chased down by people throwing yellow powder because we couldn't handle having yet another color thrown into our eyes and ears. 

As I've matured in my running, I have now done a 10k (6.2 miles), the Twin Cities 10-Miler, and the Lake Minnetonka Half. That half was my Everest. I was feeling amazing until mile 10, and it was all tough treading after that. I cried when I crossed the finish line. 

Anyway, picking a race really depends on what you want to accomplish. Some love to participate in the Couch to 5K that essentially prepares any type of person to run 3 miles in 9 weeks. I didn't know of this type of program when I started running, but I think it would have been beneficial. 

Others jump all in and choose to train for a marathon. To each their own for sure. I will say that training for a further distance means you are sacrificing more and more free time to run long distances on certain training days. I have friends that their "Saturday Plans" consist of running 18 miles. For me, I'd like to do one other half marathon to see how I compare, but I really love 10-milers. It feels like my perfect race. Whatever you choose, check out the training plans that usually accompany the raise and see if it's doable. Are you a single mom with three kids trying to work two jobs? Maybe don't try to overwhelm yourself with rigorous training. Believe me, whatever race you choose, you'll feel accomplished and excited. There is definitely a high that follows. 

Once you've decided on a length, you'll have to decide on which race. This might feel overwhelming How do you choose? For instance, in June in Minnesota, Running the USA's website says there are 160 races. Jaw drop. So make your decision by breaking it up into categories: 

Month

Do you have a lot of downtime in the winter or summer? Do you want to run the months when the leaves fall or when the flowers bloom? 

Preferred Temperature

Do you prefer feeling chilled or really sweating it out? Do you need the sunshine to fuel you? 

Preferred Time of Day

Do you like the idea of night runs or are you an early riser? 

Cost of Race

Races can vary in price. I've spent as little as $20 and as much as $90. And I haven't even entered nationally known races or even a marathon. Pay attention to this! 

 
The "Goodies"

Lots of races provide a t-shirt, but others provide beer, music, and gift bags. Some will also have activities to participate in or even a shiny medal.  

Length

As discussed previously, pick a length you feel comfortable

Location

Do you want to use this race as an excuse to travel? Do you want one where you can walk out your front door? Do you want to run around a lake or get lost in the woods? 

Cause

Is it important to raise money for Alzheimer's? Cancer research? Or would you prefer lighthearted races where you dress up or have glow sticks? 

Hopefully, these categories will help you break it down a little. I'm also happy to answer any questions (or try to direct you to a good source). 

Now go out there and be like this guy: 

Always,
A