Photo by Pete Thompson

Photo by Pete Thompson

This time last year I was barely a person. Although it feels like it was just yesterday, an entire year of life has gone by. I flew solo across the country for the first time (I’m terrified of flying), traveled to several places I’ve always longed to go (hi, Joshua Tree), spent actual, real time with friends (that are family), almost became a west coaster (almost), helped plan a wedding (my sister’s), worked on some pretty cool projects, became part of an entirely new community filled with the most badass people, put my braiding skills to good use (cheers, Runner Braids!), met and grew close with some seriously magical souls (peep the real MVP’s in the above photo), turned 27, trained with Nike (Moonshot Class of 2018), ran a few races, got injured (thumbs down), watched some family get married and move into their first home(s) and ran (jogged, thanks injury) my 6th marathon. Sure that marathon was quite literally the New York City Marathon, but also the marathon of my life.

I (sort of) knew going into this year that there was no time limit to what I would or wouldn’t achieve. Like my “life” marathon, I knew going into the race that I’d have to take my time (thanks, injury). But it didn’t matter to me, as long as I was participating and was healthy enough to do just that. Soon after everything happened last year, I rejected almost every piece of “time-sensitive” advice people laid on me. I found it impossible to even think past the present moment of agony. However, as promised, one day turned into two. Then a few. A few turned into a week. A week turned into a month. That month then flourished into several. Before I knew it I was at 6 months, half a whole year. And here I am, one year later and I’ve made it.

Spoiler alert? I’m OKAY. I’m living, breathing and happy.

I actually think I’m better than okay. And I’ve never been more grateful.

To each and every person, place or thing that’s brought me back to life, thank you. From the deepest and darkest bottom of my soul I’m forever indebted to ya. I had zero faith that however horrible I felt, it was also possible to feel just as good and wholesome and happy.

Yet, here we are. For the first time in a long time, I’m on the edge of my seat with excitement for what’s next.