Tag Archives: Athlete

Wait, I just RAN a half marathon?

The end of my college athletic career was one of the most difficult transitions that I’ve had to go through, and to be honest,  it was really challenging to plan for (along with the transition into the “real world”). I no longer have coaches telling me what to do or where to be;  there are no more teammates to count on in moments of weakness or for congratulatory high fives in times of success; there are no more fitness tests to pass or mandatory conditioning sessions to attend. The biggest change to date, is that now there is nobody holding me accountable for what I do (or choose not to do).

After I returned to San Diego in late December, I quickly thrust myself into as many running and fitness groups as possible, in an effort to regain that lost sense of camaraderie that I had once shared with my 31 other teammates. My week quickly began to fill up: Monday and Wednesday mornings were spent at November Project, Wednesday nights I found myself at Milestone for run club, the weekends kicked off with Friday After Work run group, followed by a combo of yoga and running at bRUNch club on Saturday, while Sundays I alternated between long runs and Glider Port Stairs at Torrey Pines. I threw down #VERBALS for almost all the workouts, which meant that I had to show up or face public social media humiliation (aka getting called out for not showing up). I became part of a bigger fitness movement in San Diego, November Project, and  was no longer just another individual running a route through another neighborhood; It felt good to be part of a “team” again.

In January, I attended every single workout possible and felt stronger than ever. I used to resent running because A) I am not very fast and B) it was commonly used as a punishment for not being fast enough . Now that I was running for myself and had no “times” to meet other than my own personal goals, I finally began to find my stride, both literally and figuratively. Running was FUN, Burpees were celebrated, and I started to “eat hills for breakfast”. Who woulda thought?

As the runs became easier and the mileage began to pick up (meaning I ran over three miles), a couple of people at November Project began talking about the San Diego Half Marathon in March. Before I knew what I was getting myself into, I was signed up and dropped my #VERBAL, even though I had no idea what I was doing. Thankfully I was able to coerce my fitness loving mother and NP superstar into running it with me so I had some sort of guidance throughout the next seven weeks.

My training plan originally called for increasing my mileage from my four mile max to pounding out eight miles the first weekend. I quickly threw that plan away (and all my hopes for running a half) and began to follow my Mom’s more carefully structured plan which included lower mileage until weeks 5-7, in which we would increase slowly to ten miles the week before the race.

Flash forward seven weeks and I’m toeing the start line for the San Diego Half Marathon, a surge of nervous energy fueling my empty, nauseous stomach. I woke up on Sunday at 4:30, sick to my stomach, unable to get anything down; by the start of the race I had been able to eat two orange slices: things were not looking good to start. Nearly two hours later and we’re downtown at Petco Park to check our bags and get ready. We immediately found some fellow NP (November Project) runners and huddled together to keep warm in true NPSD fashion #weatherspoof. At 7:20 the first wave took off and we began on our beautiful journey through San Diego, around the airport and Marine Depot, up Washington (the dreaded hill), through Hill Crest, and finally down Sixth Avenue until we turned towards the finishers chute on Fifth.

Two hours, ten minutes and forty seconds later, I finished. Three seconds later Ang came crashing into me at the finish line.

Three months ago I would of laughed at you if you told I was going to run a half marathon, let alone anything more than five miles. Now I find myself laughing, looking back at the fun I have on runs with my new “team”. Thank you to all those who pushed me both physically and mentally the last two months (including my Mom) – you continue to be a much needed daily source of inspiration.




Like Mother, Like Daughter


Meg: Focused; Ang: Fun


Race Day Prep

Processed with Moldiv

Bib: Check


Training Partners

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Back at It (See what I did there?)

Frustration might not be the right word to describe what I was feeling going into this preseason. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to explain it. Upset, disheartened, and defeated don’t even get close to describing how I was feeling.

After a deadlifting accident last Fall,  my lower back was in a state of chaos – leaving L4/L5 and L5/S1 partially sacralized and the prospect of returning  100% was questionable. Numerous doctors appointments, x-rays, cortisone injections, and physical therapy appointments failed to get me where I wanted heading into my senior season. Nevertheless, I was determined to get back on the field.

August 13th rolled around and I still had back spasms during workouts and a numb sensation down my leg whenever I ran for more than a few minutes. In a word, debilitating. I might as well have had the word UNCLEARED tattooed across my forehead because that was the simple truth. Another cortisone injection, a cocktail of medications, ice baths and a daily back massages helped me get on the field again.  It was slow and excruciating learning how to dive again so that I didn’t further damage my spine. I believed that because I had done this twice before, why not a third time?

Nearly a month from that first day back on the field, just jogging for ten minutes, I am now back at it and fully cleared. There is still a painful jolt to my back every time my body slams into the ground, I have come to the realization that it is worth it. Every dive, every kick, every sprint. It is after all, my senior season.



Sunday Night Thoughts: Nineteen Going on Never

I had to go “grown up” shopping today and have come to the conclusion that I detest growing up. This week I’ll be flying to Indianapolis, IN for the NCAA Career in Sports Forum, which will be incredibly exciting, but uncomfortable. I’m an athlete through and through and anytime that I’m out of my signature shorts and t-shirt look, I’m quite discombobulated. I was informed that I’d have to wear business attire this week, and seeing as I had ZERO. ZIP. ZILCH. clothes that fit that category, I did as any other girl would do and went shopping, of course! Never have I felt more uncomfortable in my life than I have in pants and a matching jacket. I think I’d rather wear cleats that were two sizes too small than wear that uncomfortable combo. I looked incredibly awkward with my soccer thighs and water polo shoulders, so I opted for some cute dress and skirt outfits that didn’t highlight the gigantic muscles that I prize so much. Although I thought I looked somewhat better in dresses than pants, my sister very nicely informed that I look like a grandma in my new digs – exactly the look I was going for! Going into the working world will be a rough transition for me, I’m hoping employers will value comfort over fashion just like I do.

Dressing for the part

Dressing for the part

Don't know if this is the look for me

Don’t know if this is the look for me

Although there are a ton of perks that come along with aging (namely being freedom), getting older quite simply stinks. It seems like yesterday when I was in middle school, wishing that I could tap my cleats together three times and I’d magically be in the adult world – I was thirteen going on thirty. Now I’m nineteen going on never.

Jam of the Day: Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift