This afternoon I ran 2.9 miles on the dreadmill at an average pace of 8:55/mile.
Well hells yes. I guess there's a little bit o'badass in me after all.
I don't know if it's a bad old joke (the kind Dads learn at Dad Camp) or an episode of Looney Tunes, but there's some saying about hitting yourself in the head with a hammer because it feels so good when you stop. Same feeling? Fast treadmill running.
Anyhoo, I'm scarfing down ramen for lunch like it's my job. Why? Because it's all I can afford. Seriously. I've been assuming the economy wasn't affecting me, but then my brother brought it to my attention that the price of Tostitos cheese dip has gone up 80 cents in the past month or so. I'm sure that's some sort of sacrelige.
Also, the protein portion of my lunch today was a bag of honey roasted peanuts. Thank heavens for 7-11!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Back on the horse
I took it easy for (most) of the week after the half. Wednesday, I tried some speed intervals on the treadmill and made it about 20 minutes before giving up and moving along to some kettlebell squats. Bad idea. I'm just now getting over Tight Biker Shorts of Pain. Anyhoos, I decided to get back on the road last night, as it was becoming painfully obvious that I am one of those "running is cheaper than therapy" folks. I rushed home after class, threw on some leggings (more of the Lindsay Lohan variety than the running tights variety) and a tech shirt and headband and headed off to my regular route. I was waylaid about 4 minutes in by intense side stitching across my entire abdomen, but continued to shuffle along for awhile, and forced myself to go on for about 20 minutes by taking my usual route over the causeway, which is kind of scary at night. I never want to stop when running in the pitch-black and windy over Pleasure Bay. I got to the mainland again and had to stop, limping home by way of Medal of Honor Park. Still, it was enough to take the edge off my life & coffee-induced anxiety. Ahhhhh.
My roommate just ran the NY Marathon and seems to think I can run a marathon too. While he insists that it's all mental, I insist that I don't run on my brain, I run on my feet and at the end of 26.2 miles, I would likely no longer have feet.
Though it can't be too much crazier than going to Grad school, which I'm also contemplating. Speaking of which, I should get back to writing this paper instead of blogging.
My roommate just ran the NY Marathon and seems to think I can run a marathon too. While he insists that it's all mental, I insist that I don't run on my brain, I run on my feet and at the end of 26.2 miles, I would likely no longer have feet.
Though it can't be too much crazier than going to Grad school, which I'm also contemplating. Speaking of which, I should get back to writing this paper instead of blogging.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
TiART : Steeplechasing life
For my first Take it and Run Thursday, it seems appropriate that this week's theme is "Running Through Transitions", as I've consistently struggled with keeping on track during transitions of many kinds, and also as I'm devising my training/running plan for the coming winter months to ensure I don't let myself get derailed by life's little surprises.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I glibly listed my weaknesses as "wildberry skittles, younger men, and quitting." Hence the title of this blog. It's a strange affliction to have, and probably even stranger to realize and label like that. Hello, my name is Tess, and I am a recovering quitaholic.
Not only was it impossible for me to stick to anything, I enjoyed giving up on it. Every difficulty, every transition in life, was an excuse to drop something. Whether it be a college class (I dropped out twice, switched schools and switched back, shuffled my schedule so often each semester that I'd attended about 20 different classes in the first two weeks of school), a job (I've had some doozies), boyfriends (more doozies), apartments, even leaving a boring party without telling anyone gave me some sort of strange rush. I even took up smoking (GROSS) for a year just to prove I could quit cold turkey.
Running - exercise in general, was always a victim of my quitaholism. Any time I was going through any kind of challenge in life, I always quit exercise. And with all the transferring, and moving, and breaking up I was apparently doing during the college years, I had an endless stream of excuses to stop my almost-blossoming running habit, which at the time was just a couple pitiful weekly jogs around Beaver Lake and a dreamy notion of how awesome it might be to run a WHOLE 5K.
Fast forward to well, now, and I'm four days off running my first half marathon, and idea that six years ago (heck, five days ago) seemed not only impossible but laughable. Even mythical, like unicorns and sea creatures. But I did it, after not even a year of running steady. And I somehow started running for real on the cusp of what ended up being a staggering stream of transitions, and kept on running through all of them.
I left a job and started a new one, moved apartments (and was homeless for a month), went through the worst breakup ever, had my next apartment explode and was homeless again for another month, lost a couple close friends, awkwardly regained some, and too many other strange and twisting changes to mention. Somehow, for the first time, I managed to run through them all, instead of using them as excuses not to run. And now, instead of wanting to quit when the going gets tough, I want to run.
Go figure. When the going gets tough, the tough get running.
I've started looking at life not as a highway (zing, Tom Cochrane!) where every challenge is an opportunity to take the nearest exit and get some McDonalds, but as a long steeplechase where challenging transitions are more like water hazards or hurdles. Without the momentum I get from running, I wouldn't be able to scale the obstacles in my path.
This post was written as a part of
Take it and Run Thursday, courtesy of Runners' Lounge.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I glibly listed my weaknesses as "wildberry skittles, younger men, and quitting." Hence the title of this blog. It's a strange affliction to have, and probably even stranger to realize and label like that. Hello, my name is Tess, and I am a recovering quitaholic.
Not only was it impossible for me to stick to anything, I enjoyed giving up on it. Every difficulty, every transition in life, was an excuse to drop something. Whether it be a college class (I dropped out twice, switched schools and switched back, shuffled my schedule so often each semester that I'd attended about 20 different classes in the first two weeks of school), a job (I've had some doozies), boyfriends (more doozies), apartments, even leaving a boring party without telling anyone gave me some sort of strange rush. I even took up smoking (GROSS) for a year just to prove I could quit cold turkey.
Running - exercise in general, was always a victim of my quitaholism. Any time I was going through any kind of challenge in life, I always quit exercise. And with all the transferring, and moving, and breaking up I was apparently doing during the college years, I had an endless stream of excuses to stop my almost-blossoming running habit, which at the time was just a couple pitiful weekly jogs around Beaver Lake and a dreamy notion of how awesome it might be to run a WHOLE 5K.
Fast forward to well, now, and I'm four days off running my first half marathon, and idea that six years ago (heck, five days ago) seemed not only impossible but laughable. Even mythical, like unicorns and sea creatures. But I did it, after not even a year of running steady. And I somehow started running for real on the cusp of what ended up being a staggering stream of transitions, and kept on running through all of them.
I left a job and started a new one, moved apartments (and was homeless for a month), went through the worst breakup ever, had my next apartment explode and was homeless again for another month, lost a couple close friends, awkwardly regained some, and too many other strange and twisting changes to mention. Somehow, for the first time, I managed to run through them all, instead of using them as excuses not to run. And now, instead of wanting to quit when the going gets tough, I want to run.
Go figure. When the going gets tough, the tough get running.
I've started looking at life not as a highway (zing, Tom Cochrane!) where every challenge is an opportunity to take the nearest exit and get some McDonalds, but as a long steeplechase where challenging transitions are more like water hazards or hurdles. Without the momentum I get from running, I wouldn't be able to scale the obstacles in my path.
This post was written as a part of
Take it and Run Thursday, courtesy of Runners' Lounge.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Race Report : Manchester City Half Marathon
I wish I could go back in time and tell my 4 years ago self, or even my 1 year ago self, that I would one day run a 13.1 mile race. Past self would have thought that was SUCH a funny joke.
I remember when my loftiest goal was to run a 5k. When I spent the summer of 2004 struggling half a mile around the lake before a stubborn side stitch always sent me home. It was a goal so seemingly unattainable at the time. So I always quit running, over and over again.
Yet here I was, on Sunday, running the Manchester City Half Marathon
Having no race-day pickup actually worked out pretty well. I went to the expo on Saturday to get my number and chip and race shirt. Unfortunately, they were out of all but Large and XL shirt, which would have been fine if the shirts weren't nice, but they were really nice long-sleeved half-zip tech shirts with a subtle logo. I ended up giving mine to my brother, even though he never comes to see me run because that would mean he had to get up in the morning.
Yesterday I woke up rested at 6am (thank you, Standard Time), had some oatmeal, and put on way too many layers. I always make this mistake, but I suppose I'm still a beginner. Anyway, I dressed head to toe in brown spandex, ensuring that I looked like a giant poop. Great. I also had a stocking cap, gloves, and my awesome new Nathan fannypack thingo to carry my Gu and iPod (not for listening, just for timing since I don't have a fancy watch).
After guzzling down a cup of coffee and several bottles of water, I was quite concerned to see the shortage of portapotties and the long lines 15 minutes before race start. Still, runners are nothing if not fast, even in the bathroom, so we all managed to make it to the start and the race started on time at 8:50.
The lack of shirts in my size and the toilet sitch made me slightly worried that this would be disorganized disaster of a race, but I was very wrong. The volunteers and police officers were AWESOME, especially as the course was not closed to traffic and they had to maintain the delicate balance of letting the runners pass unfettered while keeping the fine drivers of ManchVegas from running any of us over in a fit of road rage. Excellent job to all.
Anyway, the course. It was scenic, both urban & suburban, and J.C. of A., they were NOT KIDDING about the hills. OW.
I was surprised at the section of the course that was entirely trails, in Livingston park. That was unexpected. We veered off through the woods and around a small lake for several minutes near mile 6. The pack had dispersed enough that nobody was on anyone else's heels and while I spent most of the time making sure I didn't trip over an unearthed tree root and biff it, I enjoyed the break from pavement.
I started to struggle around mile 9, and by 10 I was running entirely on autopilot. There was a giant, sloping, winding hill right around mile 8 and it pretty much zapped me. I shuffled through mile 9 and when I saw the marker for 10 I knew I was in uncharted territory and started to make some sort of lame Star Trek joke about boldly going where I hadn't gone before, and then giggling to myself, and then realizing I was starting to lose my mind. There were a couple short hills and then by mile 11 it was pretty much all straight or downhill from there. After I passed marker 11, I felt like I had a vast desert to cross before the end, but before I knew it I was passing marker 12, and realized that I was going to finish this thing, and started to cry a little.
I kicked it up a tiny bit near the finish, but the truth is, I had nothing left. I didn't cross the finish line shuffling, but I didn't cross it sprinting either.
My mom was there with her camera, and she gave me a high five. I ripped my chip off my shoe and shuffled over to get my medal (!).
I posted a 2:15ish gun time. I don't know if they're going to post chip times, but mine was definitely faster. Even with the gun time, I managed to average 10:20 per mile, despite all the uphills and the trail portion, so I'm okay with that. I didn't stop running.
Results
After some free chili, a warm bath, and a nap, I headed back to Manch to meet up with the bro at the Strangebrew. His best friend was having an engagement party and it was $2.50 beer night. Gotta love a place that will just pour you an entire pint of 8% Russian Imperial Stout (that just happens to be brewed in your small hometown) for $2.50, and also has free popcorn. Ah, the land of the free.
I also got to overhear my brother tell everyone in earshot that his sister had run a half marathon, which was neat.
Looking forward (as I started to do around mile 7), I don't think a full marathon is in the cards for me, at least not yet. I'd do another half, for sure. I think I'm going to spend the winter trying to get faster and stronger and see how much better I can come out on the other side.
I remember when my loftiest goal was to run a 5k. When I spent the summer of 2004 struggling half a mile around the lake before a stubborn side stitch always sent me home. It was a goal so seemingly unattainable at the time. So I always quit running, over and over again.
Yet here I was, on Sunday, running the Manchester City Half Marathon
Having no race-day pickup actually worked out pretty well. I went to the expo on Saturday to get my number and chip and race shirt. Unfortunately, they were out of all but Large and XL shirt, which would have been fine if the shirts weren't nice, but they were really nice long-sleeved half-zip tech shirts with a subtle logo. I ended up giving mine to my brother, even though he never comes to see me run because that would mean he had to get up in the morning.
Yesterday I woke up rested at 6am (thank you, Standard Time), had some oatmeal, and put on way too many layers. I always make this mistake, but I suppose I'm still a beginner. Anyway, I dressed head to toe in brown spandex, ensuring that I looked like a giant poop. Great. I also had a stocking cap, gloves, and my awesome new Nathan fannypack thingo to carry my Gu and iPod (not for listening, just for timing since I don't have a fancy watch).
After guzzling down a cup of coffee and several bottles of water, I was quite concerned to see the shortage of portapotties and the long lines 15 minutes before race start. Still, runners are nothing if not fast, even in the bathroom, so we all managed to make it to the start and the race started on time at 8:50.
The lack of shirts in my size and the toilet sitch made me slightly worried that this would be disorganized disaster of a race, but I was very wrong. The volunteers and police officers were AWESOME, especially as the course was not closed to traffic and they had to maintain the delicate balance of letting the runners pass unfettered while keeping the fine drivers of ManchVegas from running any of us over in a fit of road rage. Excellent job to all.
Anyway, the course. It was scenic, both urban & suburban, and J.C. of A., they were NOT KIDDING about the hills. OW.
I was surprised at the section of the course that was entirely trails, in Livingston park. That was unexpected. We veered off through the woods and around a small lake for several minutes near mile 6. The pack had dispersed enough that nobody was on anyone else's heels and while I spent most of the time making sure I didn't trip over an unearthed tree root and biff it, I enjoyed the break from pavement.
I started to struggle around mile 9, and by 10 I was running entirely on autopilot. There was a giant, sloping, winding hill right around mile 8 and it pretty much zapped me. I shuffled through mile 9 and when I saw the marker for 10 I knew I was in uncharted territory and started to make some sort of lame Star Trek joke about boldly going where I hadn't gone before, and then giggling to myself, and then realizing I was starting to lose my mind. There were a couple short hills and then by mile 11 it was pretty much all straight or downhill from there. After I passed marker 11, I felt like I had a vast desert to cross before the end, but before I knew it I was passing marker 12, and realized that I was going to finish this thing, and started to cry a little.
I kicked it up a tiny bit near the finish, but the truth is, I had nothing left. I didn't cross the finish line shuffling, but I didn't cross it sprinting either.
My mom was there with her camera, and she gave me a high five. I ripped my chip off my shoe and shuffled over to get my medal (!).
I posted a 2:15ish gun time. I don't know if they're going to post chip times, but mine was definitely faster. Even with the gun time, I managed to average 10:20 per mile, despite all the uphills and the trail portion, so I'm okay with that. I didn't stop running.
Results
After some free chili, a warm bath, and a nap, I headed back to Manch to meet up with the bro at the Strangebrew. His best friend was having an engagement party and it was $2.50 beer night. Gotta love a place that will just pour you an entire pint of 8% Russian Imperial Stout (that just happens to be brewed in your small hometown) for $2.50, and also has free popcorn. Ah, the land of the free.
I also got to overhear my brother tell everyone in earshot that his sister had run a half marathon, which was neat.
Looking forward (as I started to do around mile 7), I don't think a full marathon is in the cards for me, at least not yet. I'd do another half, for sure. I think I'm going to spend the winter trying to get faster and stronger and see how much better I can come out on the other side.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Boo!
Much as I expected, after almost an entire week of not running (*tear*), my hip feels good as new. However, I also feel sluggish and cranky. Possibly because I've been eating myself into a sugar coma pretty much every day this week. Halloween week was not the best week to try and eat healthy. Especially since I'm in charge of buying the candy for my office, and I take that responsibility very seriously.
Anyway, speaking of candy, I love it so much I'm dressing up as it for Halloween. My friend Jenna & I are being candy corn and indian corn (I'm the candy corn).
We're having a Halloween party tonight in the new apartment, and everyone seems really excited about it. As they should be, it's going to be awesome.
My roommate is being the Reading Rainbow (green dress, blue tights, rainbow belt, rainbow bangles, red necklace, purple shoes, a copy of Frankenstein in her pocket, and a pin with a picture of Levar Burton on it). My brother is being Party Fowl - he's going to dress up like a chicken and wear an obnoxious slogan tee, sunglasses indoors, man jewelry, maybe some glowsticks. I told him he should also spill a beer on himself (get it?).
Anyway, I'm restraining myself this weekend and will try my best to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'm heading home, dad is going to take me to the race expo in Manch-Vegas and then I'm going to hit the hay early before the race on Sunday!
I'm not feeling all that confident about it, to tell you the truth, especially since I haven't run this week. But at least I'm not limping and snarking around like Dr. Gregory House, M.D. and wishing that I too had a sweet pimp cane.
Anyway, it's going to be a beautiful day and a fun race and at the end of it I'm going to get a friggin' medal so I guess I can't complain. And after that I'm going to drink $2 microbrew drafts at Strangebrew, so I definitely can't complain.
Happy Halloween and happy running!
Anyway, speaking of candy, I love it so much I'm dressing up as it for Halloween. My friend Jenna & I are being candy corn and indian corn (I'm the candy corn).
We're having a Halloween party tonight in the new apartment, and everyone seems really excited about it. As they should be, it's going to be awesome.
My roommate is being the Reading Rainbow (green dress, blue tights, rainbow belt, rainbow bangles, red necklace, purple shoes, a copy of Frankenstein in her pocket, and a pin with a picture of Levar Burton on it). My brother is being Party Fowl - he's going to dress up like a chicken and wear an obnoxious slogan tee, sunglasses indoors, man jewelry, maybe some glowsticks. I told him he should also spill a beer on himself (get it?).
Anyway, I'm restraining myself this weekend and will try my best to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow I'm heading home, dad is going to take me to the race expo in Manch-Vegas and then I'm going to hit the hay early before the race on Sunday!
I'm not feeling all that confident about it, to tell you the truth, especially since I haven't run this week. But at least I'm not limping and snarking around like Dr. Gregory House, M.D. and wishing that I too had a sweet pimp cane.
Anyway, it's going to be a beautiful day and a fun race and at the end of it I'm going to get a friggin' medal so I guess I can't complain. And after that I'm going to drink $2 microbrew drafts at Strangebrew, so I definitely can't complain.
Happy Halloween and happy running!
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Thanks, Lance.
I've been hearing a lot of those "Congratulations, that was your longest workout yet!" celebrity encouragements from my iPod for the last couple weeks because, well, every Sunday has been my longest run yet. Today it was Lance Armstrong congratulating me, last week it was Joan Benoit Samuelsen. Fun.
I ran 10 miles today, my last long run before next Sunday's half marathon. It was a perfect, sunny, breezy day. Across the bridge and downtown, through the Common, down and around the Back Bay Fens, and back home. I followed that with a 10 minute soak in a bathtub full of cold water and bags of ice, while wearing a bathing suit, stocking cap, knee socks and a fleece jacket. And cursing liberally to myself through clenched teeth. After a giant bowl of pasta and a short nap, my body still feels like it has given up on me. It's not a nice feeling to be pushing through a run like this thinking that you won't be able to finish it and certainly won't be able to finish the half marathon without stopping. It's defeatist and I am exhausted and have to edit and rewrite a paper tonight. I don't want to end up just doing it tomorrow at work because I know that just perpetuates bad habits.
I read up on ball-of-foot pain on CoolRunning.com and at the internet's suggestion, cut some pads out of a foam insole and taped them behind the balls of my feet. The right one was perfectly placed and made a world of difference, while the left one could have used some adjustment. I think I'm going to try and MacGuyver them up a little bit more. Having perfect feet for dancing and perfect feet for running are two very different things.
The strategy for this coming week is to eat well and take care of myself. First order of business - eat breakfast. I don't eat enough good things in general, because I have a very light appetite. Combined with a killer sweet tooth and high metabolism, that means most of my caloric intake is comprised of skittles, cupcakes, and pumpkin spice lattes. Because those things are delicious and make me happy. However, they don't make my body happy. First order of business - eat breakfast. As much as the idea of eating in the morning makes me queasy, I've got to teach myself to do it. Next up, more vegetables, lean protein, whole grains. I can do that for a week. And maybe if I can do it for a week, I can do it for another one!
I ran 10 miles today, my last long run before next Sunday's half marathon. It was a perfect, sunny, breezy day. Across the bridge and downtown, through the Common, down and around the Back Bay Fens, and back home. I followed that with a 10 minute soak in a bathtub full of cold water and bags of ice, while wearing a bathing suit, stocking cap, knee socks and a fleece jacket. And cursing liberally to myself through clenched teeth. After a giant bowl of pasta and a short nap, my body still feels like it has given up on me. It's not a nice feeling to be pushing through a run like this thinking that you won't be able to finish it and certainly won't be able to finish the half marathon without stopping. It's defeatist and I am exhausted and have to edit and rewrite a paper tonight. I don't want to end up just doing it tomorrow at work because I know that just perpetuates bad habits.
I read up on ball-of-foot pain on CoolRunning.com and at the internet's suggestion, cut some pads out of a foam insole and taped them behind the balls of my feet. The right one was perfectly placed and made a world of difference, while the left one could have used some adjustment. I think I'm going to try and MacGuyver them up a little bit more. Having perfect feet for dancing and perfect feet for running are two very different things.
The strategy for this coming week is to eat well and take care of myself. First order of business - eat breakfast. I don't eat enough good things in general, because I have a very light appetite. Combined with a killer sweet tooth and high metabolism, that means most of my caloric intake is comprised of skittles, cupcakes, and pumpkin spice lattes. Because those things are delicious and make me happy. However, they don't make my body happy. First order of business - eat breakfast. As much as the idea of eating in the morning makes me queasy, I've got to teach myself to do it. Next up, more vegetables, lean protein, whole grains. I can do that for a week. And maybe if I can do it for a week, I can do it for another one!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Hipper than thou
There is no denying at this point that there is something very wrong with my body. The pain has settled in my right hip, the same pain that I felt last week after not preparing for or stretching after the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women. It had loosened up after this weekend's hike, but after last night's strugglicious 9 miles, it is back and worse than ever. I don't know what to do. I even did a short yoga routine with plenty of hip openers last night in the kitchen post-run. I can barely walk. The half marathon is in two weeks. I just want to ignore this until it's over and then figure out the next step, whether it be a massage or PT or foam rollering or ANYTHING BUT STOPPING.
The main issue for me is that I don't think I'm going to be able to finish the race. I pushed through the last three miles last night by sheer force of will, singing along to "All These Things That I've Done" through clenched teeth. My cardiovascular fitness is awesome, it's just that by mile 7 or so my legs stop working. My feet don't want to pick up off the ground, pains shoot through my knees, my feet ache, my arches fall. I don't want to entertain the idea that I may not be "built like a runner". My tiny, delicate, high arched feet might be causing these problems, but I don't know. I don't know how to fix it. I'm sick of buying new shoes every month or so, but my beautiful new Asics Nimbus 9s just aren't cutting it - my feet are swimming around in the 7.5 size, though the 7s squished my toes. Maybe I need narrow shoes. I don't know.
I'm witnessing and appreciating the affects a 9 mile run has on my mind and general sense of well-being and I don't want to lose that just because my body is being a party pooper.
The run itself was pretty fantastic. That loop around Pleasure Bay is mighty convenient, because it's about 2-3 miles but feels like nothing. It's so beautiful, even at night, and if I need to squeeze in an emergency long run, I can just loop around it twice and continue down the shore. I didn't stop once, and got up to what I'd probably estimate was a sub-9 minute mile several times. I still can't get over how beautiful Southie is at night. Looking at the city in the distance is kind of like a memory summary of my entire three years here, and then I see exactly how far I've come and how much further I have yet to go. I'm excited.
The main issue for me is that I don't think I'm going to be able to finish the race. I pushed through the last three miles last night by sheer force of will, singing along to "All These Things That I've Done" through clenched teeth. My cardiovascular fitness is awesome, it's just that by mile 7 or so my legs stop working. My feet don't want to pick up off the ground, pains shoot through my knees, my feet ache, my arches fall. I don't want to entertain the idea that I may not be "built like a runner". My tiny, delicate, high arched feet might be causing these problems, but I don't know. I don't know how to fix it. I'm sick of buying new shoes every month or so, but my beautiful new Asics Nimbus 9s just aren't cutting it - my feet are swimming around in the 7.5 size, though the 7s squished my toes. Maybe I need narrow shoes. I don't know.
I'm witnessing and appreciating the affects a 9 mile run has on my mind and general sense of well-being and I don't want to lose that just because my body is being a party pooper.
The run itself was pretty fantastic. That loop around Pleasure Bay is mighty convenient, because it's about 2-3 miles but feels like nothing. It's so beautiful, even at night, and if I need to squeeze in an emergency long run, I can just loop around it twice and continue down the shore. I didn't stop once, and got up to what I'd probably estimate was a sub-9 minute mile several times. I still can't get over how beautiful Southie is at night. Looking at the city in the distance is kind of like a memory summary of my entire three years here, and then I see exactly how far I've come and how much further I have yet to go. I'm excited.
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