five on friday

Happy Friday lovelies!!  Today I'm joining some of my fav bloggin' ladies for the weekly Five on Friday link-up.  I'm thinking it will be a great way to share my own blog while finding fabulous new blogs out there as well-- super exciting!

{one}

This southern girl has invested in a new curling iron.  After reading lots of reviews, scouring blog hair tutorials to see what equipment those gals are using, and consulting the Beauty Bibles (namely InStyle), I settled on a Hot Tools 1 1/4 inch iron.  

I may or not be tracking this delivery like it's my J-O-B and cannot wait to try it out tomorrow night (date night, whoop whoop!).  

Sidenote: Living in Boston, I feel like big hair is something that I must maintain in honor of all southern girls living north of the Mason-Dixon line.  This past weekend we were with friends and everyone was getting ready to go out.  Armed with my teasing comb and hair spray, I set to work on my hair.  The MA ladies were joking about the amount of hair spray I was using, to which I responded "Girls, you've got to tease it to Jesus!" 

"Tease it to please him?" 

"No... to Jesus.  You know-- the bigger the hair, the closer to God?" 

Blank stares.

Our southern hair chatter is apparently a thing these Yanks will just never understand.

{two} 

Come this Labor Day weekend, I will be HOME SWEET HOME!

Since I've only been at my new job for a month, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to go home this summer at all, and that was just TOO MUCH for this girl to handle.  So I chatted with my manager and agreed on me taking a long Labor Day weekend holiday!  I cannot wait!!  I haven't been home since LAST Christmas and won't go home again until THIS Christmas, so this is a much-needed little trip home.  It'll be just me-- I love going home with Brian, but some one-on-one time with the family and girlfriends is just needed sometimes!  Queso, HEB and Chick-fil-A, here I come!

{three} 

Two words: DATE. NIGHT.  We have been busy for the past FIVE weekends and it is high time for a date night with my man.  Saturdays are always our nights, and unless plans come up with friends, we keep that reserved as our date night.  Six years since our first date and I'm still every bit the believer that it is muy importante to take that time for each other.  Depending on the week, I'll either cook a nicer dinner than a typical weeknight meal, we try a new spot for take-out, or we go out.  I like a good wine-on-the-couch night together as much as anyone else, but sometimes you just need to get all dressed up and hit the town, which is our plan for tomorrow, particularly since it's our big night out to celebrate The Big Six!  

I'm already picturing it, and the picture is fabulous-- getting ready with my dressing drink (or, you know, a good glass of wine) while I curl my hairs with my new curling iron, then heading out with my handsome honey-- perfection!

{four} 

Since we've been so non-stop busy, I haven't had time for a good mani/pedi in weeks, so I have allotted a full two hours of Just Me Time tomorrow morning to remedy this situation.  'Tis shameful, especially if you were to see the shape that my nails are in right now.  I plan to have myself waiting in the parking lot when they open at 9am so I can get first pick of the polishes!  

Is it just me, or does it drive you nuts when you go to a salon midday and approximately 72% of the bottles are at the various nail stations, so you have to act all stealthy and eye the bottles as you walk past to see if there are colors you can swap out with the one you settled on?  Drives me crazy!

{five} 

Summer is always one of my favorite times due to all of the little farmers markets that pop up in my area.  Seriously-- I come home with mammoth tomatoes, zucchini, fresh cheese and bread... I could go on for days.  A lot of our dinners have started to revolve around what beauties I pick up over the weekends, which I just love.  Early in the summer, I found myself with three enormous zucchini and we were both craving a light but filling pasta dish, so I got to Googling and searching my fav foodie blogs for a solution.  Enter our summer obsession: Crispy Gnocchi with Zucchini, Sweet Corn and Basil from the lovely Kristin at Iowa Girl Eats.

Seriously, drop everything that you're doing, get these ingredients in your kitchen, and make this dish happen.  I've made it for dinner guests, gave the recipe for a bridal shower recipe book... I could not possibly rave about it any more.  The dish comes together super quick, it makes more than enough for leftovers, and it's just so fresh and delish!  We either have it as a main dish or as a side with grilled chicken-- either way, you cannot go wrong.  And I honestly don't think that you can mess it up.  If you try it out, let me know if you love it as much as we have!  Kudos to you, Kristin!

Cheers to the weekend! 

Six Years.

Six years ago today I went on the best first date of my life, and I never looked back.  Six years I've had the pleasure of spending with my very best friend, my confidant, the love of my life, and I haven't stopped laughing and loving since.

I'll honestly never forget trying to fall asleep the night of August 5, 2007.  I had just moved to Boston to my un-air conditioned apartment (window unit or not, it wasn't central AC and this Texan couldn't deal) and was having panic attacks at the thought of having to wake up and get ready for The Big Date in a humid, hot apartment, arriving perfectly glowy in the August heat.  

So I did what any normal girl who's really, really excited for a first date and knows the importance of good hair does... I booked a hotel room so I could get ready the next morning in frosty, air-conditioned comfort.  Obviously.

After justifying the cost of the Hilton Back Bay as an expense that would only contribute to happy times in Boston, I checked in, laid out my outfit, and got ready for the next day (OR contemplated all potential positives and negatives of the next day because OF COURSE).  

The morning of August 6th finally came, and I'm pretty positive I was awake with the sun, was fully ready a good two hours before I needed to be.  

When I stepped off of the train at Government Center and saw Brian walking towards me with the best smile on his face, I was done. finito. a goner.  That spark was there and it was phenomenal.  We spent the day touring Boston (remember, I was a newbie to town), walking to the Museum of Science and ending up at Long Wharf, where the next three hours flew by as we talked and talked... and talked (we both considered it a good sign that we couldn't seem to stop the conversation).  We said goodnight, made plans to see each other the next day, and he put me on the train as he headed to catch the commuter boat home.

I distinctly remember feeling at that point that this was going to be my last first date... and that made my heart smile.

Three weeks later, Brian left to study abroad in Australia for a semester while I hit the books at Northeastern.  It was tough.  Not only was I adjusting to living across the country from my people, but I was now in a new relationship with someone across the world.  

He came home at Christmas, we spent time together over the break, and then he was off to his own college in upstate New York... five hours away.  We spent the next 2 1/2 years dating long distance, shuttling back and forth between Boston and The Tundra in his Jeep and on the Greyhound (and if I never ride a Greyhound again, I'll die a happy, clean, germophobic girl).  It was tough, and there were definitely times where it sucked and we wanted to throw in the towel, but at the end of the day we talked through our issues and calmed down from fights, and knew that it would be worth it in the end to stick it out with each other.  

In retrospect, I think those years apart only made us stronger as a couple.  We had to trust, understand, compromise, and unconditionally love each other or we weren't going to make it.  It helped us to truly respect each other as individuals, as well as realize how important it was to the both of us to be together and to work at our relationship when the going got tough, instead of just giving up.

And in the long run, it was so worth it. 

He has seen me at my highest highs and my lowest lows.  

No one has ever made me laugh harder in all of my life, like tears rolling down my cheeks laughter. 

We drive each other crazy sometimes, but how boring would a relationship be if everything was perfection?  Six years together have given us the chance to know that sometimes you just have to agree to disagree, that you're two different people with two different personalities, feelings, emotions, opinions, and that you love each other for who you are.  He makes me think outside of the box, and I value that so, so much.  

He loves my family like they're his own.  When my Daddy chose our first trip home to Texas to show him his gun collection, he never let my dad see him sweat.  He loves Orange Crush like my Mama and knows how much good manners, not swearing, and protecting her baby mean to her.

He can talk football and video games all day long with my brother, and it makes my heart happy to see them watching the game over beers when they're together.

He supports me endlessly, even when I'm ragey and emotional and come home angry because somebody looked at me wrong on the train or my favorite pen ran out ink.

He knows that I have my own brand of crazy, just like all girls do, and that sometimes he just needs to turn a blind eye to it and look the other way while I take a breather by myself and all will be well again.

He taught me the value of a hard-earned dollar and that while a new bag may look fabulous for awhile, that credit card bill never will.  I consider him my own little financial analyst/personal accountant, and he's guided me to be smart with my money and to get spending under control.  Annoying at the time; likely a God-send later down the road.

He is the best uncle that our Littles could ever have, and it warms my heart to see him with them.  Is there anything better than seeing the guy that you love play with babies?  I don't think so.

Years ago when I wrote in my little diary about the kind of man I would want to spend the rest of my life with, there was a list (quite the list; I am the Queen of Lists) of what he would  have to be like:

handsome, funny, smart, ambitious, loves sports, can talk sports with my Daddy, supportive, successful, loves my family, loves his family, will be a great dad someday, wants to travel, remembers the important days, will always love me and tell me I look pretty (even when I don't), will take care of me when I'm sick, loves holidays, lets me decorate however I want to... the list went on and on and on.  

I feel like I'm a pretty lucky girl to be able to say that at the end of the day, Brian fulfills every little part of that list and so much more.  I am endlessly happy and love the thought of a forever with him. 

  Happy Anniversary, BGK!  Love you so much.

Five on Friday!

Happy Friday, lovelies!  I don't know about you but I just love bloggy link-ups.  Tell me, is there a better way to find new blogs and connect with new readers?  I think not!  So today I'm linking up with Darci from The Good Life blog to share whatever 5 things tickle my fancy enough to share with y'all.  

1. Let me preface this by saying that Jen Lancaster is, without a doubt, one of my favorite authors... ever.  If you've never read Such A Pretty Fat (Or, Why Pie Is Not the Answer), Bitter is the New Black (Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office), My Fair Lazy (One Reality Television Addict's Attempt to Discover If Not Being A Dumb Ass Is the New Black; Or, A Culture-Up Manifesto)... well, I strongly encourage you to add any/all of these to your list because you will find yourself laughing to tears page after page, and feeling a little bit like you're having to say goodbye to a friend when you finish the book.  Her writing is THAT witty and good.  

I started her most recent book, The Tao of Martha (My Year of LIVING, or Why I'm Never Getting All That Glitter Off of the Dog), yesterday afternoon and I've found myself both wanting to race through it and limit myself to a few pages at a time so it doesn't end.  Straight from the author herself, "The Tao of Martha is my attempt at perpetrating a happiness project in which I spend a year living by Martha Stewart’s dictates.  As I knew I was in for a rough 2012, I wanted a way to try to stockpile happiness when things went awry, hence this book. 

Although the notion of a happiness project sounds super-Oprah and all Eat, Pray, Love, I actually looked to Martha for inspiration because she offers actionable advice.  She’ll tell you what to eat, how to pray, and who to love.  I needed a drill sergeant and not a best friend, and Martha fit the bill beautifully."  

Seriously-- read this book.  My laughter this morning provoked stares of "That bish is crazy" from my fellow bus-riders as Jen, trying to integrate four adopted cats into one cozy group of animal buddies, followed Ms. Stewart's advice and gently bit her cat on the head to show her who's boss.  Needless to say, it did not go well.

2. We found out last night that our Littles are coming to visit for two entire weeks this summer.  I may or may not already be adding craft and activity ideas to my Pinterest board.  I mean really-- the cuteness is too much to handle. 

When Uncle Bri and Aunt KiKi babysat solo so Mom and Dad could go away for the weekend.

3. Nothing makes you feel old like adding "cleaning supplies" to your shopping list... and LIKING it.  I do quick once-overs throughout the week of the bathroom and living room to keep dust and clutter at bay, plus dishes and wiping down the counters every night in the kitchen, and then a good deep clean every Saturday.  

Since golf season is now a part of our weekends, Saturdays are ideal for "me time."  After my long run and Spin at the gym, I stop to pick up our breakfast and coffees, and then shoo Brian out the door.  I clean, catch up on my trashy shows on the DVR, do self-manis... whatever my heart desires.  The day always wraps up with a pamper-y shower, lighting my most favorite candle ever, and having a glass of wine while getting prettied up for date night. Perfection, and exactly what my day tomorrow is lined up to be!

As for the best candle ever?  This one, right here:

4.  I've seen the One Pot Pasta recipe floating all around Pinterest and finally made it last night.  Seriously?  It was DELISH.  So easy and tasty, considering you literally throw everything into a pot.  Considering only two of us were eating, it made a ton of leftovers, which equal lunch for today-- win/win.

5. My fingers and toes cannot WAIT for the mani/pedi I'll be indulging in tomorrow morning.  It's been way too long, and my tootsies need to be prettied up for the summer!  Granted it's 55 degrees and raining in Boston right now, but whatevs.  Am I the only one who thinks picking my color is one of the best parts of getting a mani/pedi?  Yes?  No?

Alright, friends-- this was fun!  Have a wonderful weekend!

Oklahoma.

My heart is so sad for Oklahoma.  The images of the complete destruction, people wandering through the streets, parents waiting and hoping to be reunited with their babies... I just cannot even begin to imagine what they're feeling right now.  

Growing up in Texas, right in the middle of Tornado Alley, my entire childhood was spent in absolute fear of having to experience one.  We practiced drills all through school (duck and cover in the hallway), the tornado sirens were tested at the fire station down the street from my house every Saturday morning at 10am (the sound of that siren gives me chills to this day), and there were many nights spent in the bathtub with my Mama, Daddy, little brother and our pets with a mattress pulled over us during tornado warnings.  I would be lying if I said the lessened threat of tornadoes was a factor that pushed me towards Boston.

The closest that I've ever come to actually being IN a tornado was in the fifth grade.  I was in Mrs. Pemberton's portable right outside of our elementary school, and the day was bright and sunny.  The school secretary came in during class and went straight to Mrs. Pemberton, whispered something, and left.  Mrs. P. turned to the class and calmly told everyone that we needed to go into the main building, and to please line up.  Nobody had any idea what was going on, and in retrospect, I think that she handled the situation perfectly.  We joined the other fourth and fifth grade classes in the main school hallway and lined up against the brick walls.  Several teachers brought out games, we were allowed to read, talk with our friends... it was very calm.  

After maybe an hour had passed, the signal came over the intercom for a tornado drill.  The teachers told everyone to get into the duck and cover position as we had practiced, that we were okay, but that there was bad weather coming our way and we needed to be safe, just in case.  I vividly remember looking out of the windows on the door and noticing that the bright, sunny weather was gone and the light outside was green.  It was the most eerie thing that I have ever in my life seen, and I know that I'll never forget that.  Terrible storms did indeed come through, but we were so lucky to only have strong winds, rain and hail.  We had to wait until our parents came to pick us up and sign us out, and that was that.  

Once we were home, my parents told me and my brother that a tornado had touched down south of our town, in Jarrell, Texas.  It was an F5, 3/4 of a mile wide, and it ripped through the town.  Driving through weeks afterwards, you could still see the path of the tornado.  

We were so lucky not to be directly affected then, but I'll never forget how big of an impact it had on our little area of Central Texas.  Everyone came together to help those who had lost everything, through donations, blood drives, manual labor help with clearing debris and then rebuilding when it came time to do so.  I'm praying today that people everywhere can come together to show the same kind of support for the people and families who have lost everything.  

spring fashion lovelies

Alleluia, spring has FINALLY arrived in Boston!  It's only, you know, May 16th and we're officially experiencing our first sunny, 80 degree day.  'Tis glorious!!  

As the cooler days dragged on through March, and April... and early May, I started to stock up on all of the fun spring fashions that I would be able to wear when it was finally appropriate to show my (blindingly pale) legs without needing tights and a heavy coat.

1. Factory pleated colorblock skirt

I'm seriously loving this skirt from J. Crew Factory.  I managed to catch it on a day when it was already marked down for final sale, plus I used a coupon code for an additional 40% off, and I ordered enough to qualify for free shipping-- cha-ching!

2. Factory garment-dyed skinny jean in "poppy"

J. Crew continued to work its online shoppers spell and convinced me that I NEEDED a pair of jeans in a particularly bright color, which is ironic considering that the part of my body I'd like to draw the LEAST amount of attention to is the one clothed in these flaming colors...)

3. Loft Striped 3/4 Sleeve Cotton Sweater

Loft and I often have a love/hate relationship:  I basically either want to spend an entire paycheck there, or I can't find a single thing to love.  When I stopped in a month or so ago during one of their big "Spring is here! Let's have a sale!" days, I couldn't help but fall head over heels for these sweaters (Teal Blast and Starburst Coral).  

They're the perfect lightweight cotton that I can for sure wear through summer (already picturing with white shorts and white skinnies) and are available in several other summery colors.  One of my big pet peeves when shopping is having to buy clothes strictly for work that aren't wearable on the weekends.  Considering I can pair these with so many bottom options and dress them up with a fun necklace or scarf, they've been in constant rotation.

3. Factory 5" chino short in "navy" and "ornament orange"

These babies were a steal of a lifetime!  J. Crew Factory ran them at $19.50 PLUS an additional 30% off coupon code so seriously-- it would have been irresponsible of me to NOT purchase them, right?  Also, the inseam is 5 inches long.  Considering I'm in my late 20s (mercy me), have a tan that is comparable to Casper's coloring, and am just now working on getting my legs back into running shape, I think that this longer inseam will be most forgiving.  Right?  Riiight...

4. Loft Resort Print Smocked Cotton Caftan

Okay, so it hasn't been QUITE warm enough to wear this cuteness, but I seriously cannot wait.  It's intended for a swimsuit cover-up, which is what I bought it to wear as, but several people commented in the reviews that it's short enough to wear with shorts as a tunic-like top as well-- genius!  The colors are so bright and cheerful, I just couldn't help myself.  I ordered it in medium/large and it fits perfectly, and isn't sheer like most cover-ups can be.

5. Old Navy Fit and Flare Tee Dress in "blue stripe"

I am legitimately living in this dress.  It's been to work, to a BBQ, to brunch... Again, it's one of my required versatile pieces that can be dressed up or down for just about anything.  The color is great, and I've received tons of compliments on it-- people are shocked when I tell them Old Navy!  It's marked down on the website now, and ON is always running some type of sale-- stock up!  There is no doubt in my mind that I'll add another color to my rotation before too long.

6. Old Navy Stretch Jersey Tank Dress in "black stripe"

Again with the dress-- get on with your stylish self, Old Navy!  I've worn this a handful of times as well, with a cardi to work and always with a belt, or else my waist looks like an Alice in Wonderland illusion with the wavy stripes.

I'm still on the hunt for a great white eyelet top for the summer, so nothing too terribly heavy or tight-- I'm all about the flowy, tunic-y top for a hot summer day.  Also a requirement: must not break the bank.  I've found a hundred and one white eyelet options for my 3 month old niece but nada for myself.  Hm, is that a sign that white eyelet no longer works for adults?  The things I ponder...

After an appointment with my Sports Medicine MD last week, I was also informed that my ol' faithful flip flops aren't going to cut it for appropriate support during my commute to/from work each day, so I think I'm finally going to bite the bullet and invest in a pair of Sperry's.  I really need the support and on rainy days in my flip flops I live in constant fear of face-planting on a slippery sidewalk.  A boat shoe should take care of that chance, right?  Plus they can definitely be matched with skirts and dresses better than a sneaker can.  A few styles I'm loving (any input is appreciated!):

Women's Audrey Slip-On Patent Boat Shoe (in navy)

Women's Bluefish 2-Eye Boat Shoe

color: sand

Women's Angelfish Slip-On Boat Shoe

color: linen oat

Happy Thursday, lovelies!

Boston, you're (now) my home.

Sunday morning brought a routine that's been absent from my weekends for quite some time.

My alarm woke me at 6am and I fumbled to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and strap my heart rate monitor on.  As a cup of coffee brewed, I pulled on my new Lululemon running top and laced up my ol' faithful Brooks, calling to Brian one last time that it was "REALLY time to get up."

After 5 months of pretty much zero running, I was going to run a 5k.  A few months ago, at the insistence of my friend and coworker Meridith, I agreed to sign up to run the Boston Athletic Association Distance Medley-- a 5k in April (the day before the Boston Marathon), a 10k in June, and a half in October.  While I've been working out, it certainly hasn't been with the intention of running a race, so to say that the 5k snuck up on me is a bit of an understatement.  After a lot of self-talk, both positive and negative, I came to an agreement with myself-- this was not going to be my best 5k.  It would not be my fastest race, and I honestly wasn't even sure if I would be able to run the full race (yes, that would be 3.1 mile doubts from the girl who trained to run a marathon half a year ago), BUT... I was going to try and I would give it my all.

View of the Hancock Tower, driving in to the city

Brian, my ever-faithful photographer and cheerer on-er, drove me in and walked with me through the thousands of runners to pick-up my number and race shirt, gave me a good luck kiss, and headed off to set-up further down the course.  After ten minutes or so of jumping around to keep warm (it was FREEZING), the clock struck 8am and we were off.  

As I chugged my way down Boylston Street towards the Common and around the Public Garden, I couldn't help but smile to myself and think how much I love running through downtown Boston.  We all made the curve down Newbury Street then wove over to Comm Ave and I was reminded of how much I love this street, full of old brownstones, couples walking to brunch, families sitting on their front stoops to cheer the runners on.  As we headed towards Charlesgate I looked up and saw the infamous Citgo sign ahead of me and felt a surge of energy to push myself up the last little hill.  My eyes started searching for the street that I was so looking forward to running down and then I saw it: Hereford, and as myself and the other 10+ minute milers made the turn onto that little street and a left onto Boylston, the cheering of the crowd absolutely amplified and I looked up to see the famous Boston Marathon finish line ahead of me right in the heart of Copley Square.  Not knowing what else to do, I pulled my earbuds out and let the moment soak in, and as I crossed the finish line I couldn't help but break into the biggest grin.

26.2 miles it was not, but I had run a 5k, my first race in months, without stopping and with the final step across the finish line of THE Boston Marathon.  My heart was full and happy, in a way that I think only fellow runners could understand.  My race was much smaller compared to what 27,000 runners would face the following day, but I crossed in the same spot that the most elite runners in the world would also stand, and that feeling is amazing.

A quick picture in Copley Square-- please excuse the shine.  

The finish line is behind me (you can see the tiny bit of orange right above my head).  

The Boston Public Library is directly covered by the tree on the left, and Trinity Church is on the right.

Yesterday, April 15th, was Patriot's Day here in Massachusetts.  My company observes the holiday so I had the day off, but Brian had to go in so I dropped him off at the train and proceeded with my Day of Katie, which sounds much more indulgent than it was.  I wrapped up on the couch with George, Sam, Robin and Josh while enjoying a blueberry iced coffee and delightful breakfast, courtesy of moi.  I had big plans to try out a new running path later in the afternoon but knew that I wanted to watch as much of the marathon coverage as I could.

As I sat there, sipping my coffee and watching the local news people interview the spectators and chat with runners before the race began, I felt teary.  I think that a part of it was craving that moment for myself, to be at the start of the marathon and about to endure something that you've trained so hard for, but the majority of me just felt pure excitement for every single person on that course.  Whether it was for the elite athletes racing to place with their time, or the average athlete (that would be me) lining up for their first official 26.2 miles, the excitement was THERE.  It was palpable and strong enough to have me considering going in to watch the race near Kenmore Square, walking distance from my office.  At one point I started picking up around the apartment and doing the little things that I wanted to do before the end of the day, thinking that if I was going to go in to watch the race, that I'd want it all taken care of when we came home later that evening.  

But something made me sit back down.  I was riding high on my large coffee and could probably have shot energy through my fingertips, but somewhere in between scrubbing the stove and fluffing/Febreezing the couch cushions, this overwhelming sense of tired came over me, and I thought "Meh, I'll hang home and avoid the crazy crowds today."  

I've never in all of my life felt so grateful for exhaustion.

So I parked myself back on the couch and simultaneously Googled "how to qualify for Boston marathon" (liquid coffee courage) while watching the winners break the tape, the elite athletes follow closely behind, and then the normal runners-- my favorites-- start to trickle through.  

Coverage ended around 1:30, so I decided to head out and tackle my run at the park.  It was a gorgeous day-- sunny enough to warm the chilled air but not balmy by any means, so perfect running weather.  Driving back home, I felt very at peace and content.  I was thinking of all of the runners on the course and how it was such a perfect day to run a marathon.  The first thing I did when I walked in my door was check the status of the runner friends whom I was tracking.  I noticed that one, running mama Kristin, was right at Mile 25, so I figured I'd have enough time to jump in the shower and be out in time to see her "cross" the finish online.  

It was about 2:45pm.

As I stood to walk to the shower, one of Brian's cousins who works for a prominent news show in New York called me.

"Katie, do you have Jeff's phone number?"
"Sure, what's up?"

"There are reports that there was a bombing at the marathon finish line."
"... He's working at the finish line today."
"I know, I have to try and get in touch with him."

Honestly, after giving her the number, I hung up and didn't think anything of it.  Part of her job is to get informed tips before anyone else, so my thought process was "It's the BOSTON MARATHON-- nothing like that would ever happen.  I'm sure everything is fine."

Post-shower, I could hear my phone vibrating like crazy.  I knew that my mom had the day off and figured that it was likely her, calling to tell me something cute that their newly adopted cat (deemed Brother Alex by the brother and I, since Mom insists on calling it our sibling...) had done, so I ignored it and got dressed, dawdling in my room a bit.

When I picked up my phone and saw 6 missed calls from home and a screen full of text messages, I felt all of the color drain from my face.  I didn't think that that actually happened, but I can tell you-- I'm pretty sure it can happen because I went from feeling wonderful to absolutely terrified in a matter of seconds.  "Home" calling again so I answered as I changed the channel to the local news station... and there it all was.

And I lost it a little.

My first instinct was to find people.  I knew that I had runners who hadn't yet finished, and that their families and friends were waiting somewhere along the course.  I had friends working the race-- Brian's cousin's company monitors the time tracking, so he was at the finish line all day, and two coworkers were volunteering in the area.  My friend Meridith had VIP tickets to sit in the grandstands right at mile 26 to watch and cheer people through the end.  I've never felt that feeling before, of knowing that something horrendous has happened, that you have people in the middle of it, and that you have no. idea. how to find them and make sure they're okay.

Slowly, in between calling home just to have my mom and dad on the phone and bawling my eyes out, I called and texted everyone that I needed to find.

Brian's office is close to 20 minutes away from the area, so I knew that he would technically be "safe," but in that moment there was nothing that I needed to hear more than his voice on the other end of the phone, saying the words "I'm okay."  His office wasn't releasing anyone early, so he ended up staying until a little before 5pm and taking the train home.

Jeff, Brian's cousin, had been released from his position at the finish at 2:30, just 20 minutes before the explosions, and was halfway home.  

Meridith was sitting in the bleachers in between the two explosions but across the street, and made her way back to her apartment in Cambridge, courtesy of a ride offered by a stranger, around 4pm.

Caitlin and Andrew were at a friend's apartment a significant ways away from the incident but still in the city and about 2 miles away-- close, according to my own standards.  They stayed put for awhile and eventually made their way back home.  

My runner friends were stopped around Mile 25 and at least one managed to cross the alternate finish line.  She knew that her husband and one of her daughters were waiting for her at the end and she ran those last 1.2 miles knowing that an explosion had happened but having no idea where her family had ended up-- I cannot even begin to fathom that feeling (they did reunite later, healthy and safe).

For the next two hours, I couldn't move from in front of the TV-- I felt like I just couldn't absorb enough of the coverage and I didn't want to stop watching or even turn the television off.  I sat with my hair in a towel, crying, answering texts and calls from family and friends to let them know I was okay, and thank God for keeping me home and away from it all.  

At one point I decided to put Facebook to use and posted a note that Brian and I were both safe and away from downtown, and logged off.  

When I checked in two hours later, the number of messages and prayers that My People sent my way sent me into tears again.  It may sound silly, but while I always know that my loved ones love me, it's amazing to see that love on full display.  Everyone from aunts and uncles to people I graduated high school with left a comment to let me know that I was in their thoughts and prayers.  One guy, whom I've never technically been "friends" with but have known since preschool, said this: 

Good to hear. I know I don't know you well but I heard "Boston" and "marathon" and remembered your running blog/living in Boston. Didn't know whether you ran today but good that everyone is safe.

People came out of the woodwork to say that they were thinking of me and Brian, and we were lucky enough to not have been directly affected at all.  Few things have ever made me feel so blessed, so cared for, and so loved.

The rest of the evening was just... unsettling.  The news channels started playing the same video over and over, and I reached a point where I just couldn't watch it anymore.  Brian poured me a glass of wine and I watched Rachel and Brad on Bravo and tried to zone out, for just a little bit to clear my mind.

Didn't work.  

An hour of tossing and turning finally gave way to sleep, but I must have woken up three other times throughout the night to check my phone for updates.  I was wide awake when my alarm went off at 6:15am, and today was "business as usual" for both of us in the city, so I woke up and started to go about my day.

I'm not going to lie and say that I felt awesome and confident about coming into Boston today.  I work in a largely populated area and take public transportation-- I was scared.  A part of me feels like that's the wrong emotion to have because that's what they, whoever did this, want.  They want us to feel scared and worry about the chance that this may not be over.  What if this wasn't a one-time thing and as soon as we all collect our thoughts, another incident happens?  I'm a very positive person, and I try not to dwell on the past and on the negatives, but I've never been this close to something like this before and the thought that our city has been hurt and is threatened is so scary.  

A small consolation is that it's not just me-- everyone is on edge.  Walking in to my office today, I couldn't help but notice how everyone still looked a little stunned.  A man dropped his phone by accident on my bus this morning and when it hit the floor and made a loud noise, a woman screamed.  There were lines of state police officers and National Guard soldiers lined up at my train stop, and that's a pretty unsettling sight usually... but it completely comforted me today.

This may not be my hometown, but Boston is now my home, and as scared as I am about what has happened, I am also ANGRY.  I am angry for the families who have lost loved ones.  I am angry for the victims who have suffered this horrendous tragedy and for the injuries that they've sustained.  I am angry for the spectators who came out to cheer on the runners at the part of the race when that last push means the world-- through the finish.  

Most significantly to me, I am angry for the runners.  The day of the Boston Marathon is such an amazing, celebrated day.  People come out in droves to cheer on these amazing athletes, from the fastest ultramarathoner who qualified without even trying, to the 62 year old grandmother who's running for a charity.  To be there and cheering with all of your heart is something to be experienced, a feeling that you can't quite put your finger on but that just makes you feel so content and happy and united on Marathon Monday.  

The glory and celebration of this day was robbed from the runners, and I feel for them.  How can you truly feel victorious at this accomplishment when there's such tragedy overshadowing it?  My heart goes out to every single runner, whether they crossed the finish line or not, because they deserve to feel proud and accomplished for tackling this goal and finishing as much as they could finish before they were stopped on the course.  I would pray that they do not feel guilt for wanting to feel proud of their accomplishment, because they so deserve that moment to shine, if anything to shine through all of the shadows right now.  The stories that blew my mind yesterday were of runners crossing the finish line and continuing to run to the hospitals to donate blood, or turning right back around to help the victims.  

I don't know what the purpose of this attack was.  I don't know why it happened at such a celebratory event, why it happened at the time that it did, what the terrorists aimed to accomplish.  What I do know is that the last thing that this did was push Boston apart.  If anything, this city is the strongest that I've ever seen it.  There's very much a "If you mess with one of us, you've messed with us all" kind of vibe, and that puts my mind at ease just a little bit more than it was yesterday.

The running community has come together and vowed that we will not stop running.  This will not prevent us from putting one foot in front of the other and pounding the pavement all across the city.  Is it scary to think that events like this are being targeted?  Yes.  I'm running NYC this fall and am terrified-- now a marathon has been struck and it's in Boston; what could happen in New York?

But I can't let myself think like that because I'll honestly never leave my bed.  I'm facing the world and Boston today with my faith and hope for the victims and their families, for law enforcement to find who did this, for all people who were in the area and were first responders without a thought in their mind to stop them.  

As for me, I'm going to just keep on doing what I feel like I'm meant to do- run without pause, without doubt, always with meaning, always with purpose.

Driving home from the 5k on Sunday morning-- with my medal.