April was about accomplishing goals and completing tasks and saying YES! to things. It was a full range of emotions from personal triumphs to nationwide disasters and tragedies.

There was an entire week (April 14-20th) where, as a nation, we ALL wanted a do-over. By Friday, we’d had enough. It felt like if there was an apocalypse, this was it. Everything seemed to go down in that one week. The cover of the Chicago RedEye paper and  this article pretty much captured the events, sentiments and all.

There was the Boston Marathon bombing – injuring, amputating limbs and killing innocent people; a manhunt that put a town in Boston on lockdown; a fertilizer plant in Texas exploded injuring, killing and spreading toxic air to more innocent people; much of the Midwest flooded; a sinkhole ate 3 cars in Chicago and a crazy Elvis Impersonator mailed ricin poison to the President and a Senator. That wasn’t even all of it; there was so much that happened in just one week that events like bombings in Syria and earthquakes in China, and many other events were (sadly) overshadowed. With all the bad that happened, all the death and tragedy, our faith in humanity was restored as we saw complete strangers rise through the darkness to show support and love and prove that people are innately good and selfless. The worst really seemed to happen all in that one week, as if the Universe was having a temper tantrum.

The rest of April was much less traumatic.

April was the month of being social, meeting friends for dinner or going to a ton of networking events. It was playing kickball on the National Mall in front of the Capitol building and marveling at its beauty when it is lit up at night. It was finally, after a year in the making, meeting an internet friend for the first time IRL. It was being a good Jewish girl and attending my first Shabbat Cluster dinner at the JCC. It was foggy mysterious days followed by gorgeous sunny days. It was dinner with an old IU friend, with a girl whose apartment didn’t work out for me, but we still connected, and having brunch with a new apt. neighbor friend.

April was having the best & most successful BluePrint Cleanse experience yet. It was attending my first National’s game. On a date. Playing my White Sox. It was realizing that while I enjoy being active and social, I need nights to myself too.

April was having to get a new credit card because my bank caught fraudulent activity. BOO. It was experiencing my first Blue Label Whisky while at a Johnnie Walker (free!) tasting.

April was realizing that maybe this running thing isn’t so bad after all when I ran an unofficial (not a race) 5K without stopping for the first time. Personal Record and triumph for me! It was believing I am ready to start signing up for 5K’s and setting goals to run a 10K, a 10 Miler, a Tough Mudder, and maybe a half marathon someday. It was feeling clever from being productive while running – aka running two+ miles to get to Target then getting errands done and then walking home with the bags. It was finding the awesome Meridian Hill Park and feeling as if I was transported out of the city temporarily. April was a ridiculously long and busy month, it seems like April Fool’s Day was 6 months ago already.

April was moments of rooftop serenity and complete peace and calm followed by chaos. April was about accomplishing goals and surviving what might as well have been the Apocalypse.

But it was strange. Something was different here than it was in Chicago. In Chicago, I would tell people I wasn’t a runner, that “I have exercise-induced asthma” or “I can’t breathe when I run outside.”

Logically it made sense. Every time I ran in Chicago, I would wheeze for hours afterwards.But I haven’t been wheezing in DC.

In fact – I’ve started to enjoy running more.  However, once I started working 8a-6p+, I no longer could go for a run at 1pm on a Tuesday, so I began running on the weekends more consistently. Running in DC is challenging, let’s be honest. There are hills and tons of tourists. Oh, the tourists! I just want to yell at them, “Get out of the way morons!” Instead I find myself doing a quick 2 step dance around them. Usually I would run about 1.5, then walk a bit, then another 1.5 miles and return home.

But this past Saturday, was different. I had the most satisfying, peaceful, and proud running experience.

I woke up at 7am and felt gross from dinner the night before, so I went for a run. I ran from my apartment to the White House and before I knew it, I had 2 miles done. Then I began to run around the Tidal Basin (I had to go back eventually) and it became 2.5 miles, then 3.0 miles. When I surpassed 3.4 I thought, holy cow, I just ran my first 5K without stopping at all! That was the first time I had ever done that and I was proud of myself! I was determined to turn 3.1 instead a 10K! After those 3 miles something magical happened and it clicked. It was no longer UGH running, but I-can-and-want-to-keep-going running.

But then there was that huge blister on the arch of my left foot. And man, did it hurt. So I stopped and walked about a 0.5 mile, but then I thought to myself, Well this is just stupid of you, Caryn. It hurts to walk. It hurts to run. You might as well keep running as long as you’re not tired! 

So I did. I ran about 3 or 4 more miles and despite the pain, I felt great. I probably walked about a 1-1/2 miles but I was proud that I ran most of it. I got lost in the beauty of the day and of the city. Right around 4 miles, the horrible yet catchy fun song “The Tide is High” came on – and the line “I’m not the kind of girl that gives up just like that” really pushed me to keep going, and not give up. (side note: Blondie wrote a lot of creepy stalkerish songs. Have you noticed that?)

I was totally that crazy runner rocking out and head nodding to the music and I think I even fist bumped the air at one point. But I didn’t care. I was so content, totally at peace. It was a beautiful day, crisp and sunny – perfect for running. I just wanted to keep going. I ran for almost 90 minutes! PR for me!

I wanted to keep my motivation momentum going so instead of running home at the end of the workout, I limp-ran straight to Pacers shoe store to get a new pair of running shoes. No more blisters for this girl.

I am so proud of myself for running so long and for completing my first 5K. I might have actually completed a 10k but since I did walk some, and am not 100% sure on the distance, I don’t count it.

Lately, I’ve been inspired. I have many rock star runner friends and after watching them complete a half marathon, I was inspired to take up running more seriously. I always got bored running and wondered how people ran for so long without getting bored but now I get it. Something happened after mile 3, and suddenly I am that girl who can’t wait to try running again. Who am I?! Maybe this running thing isn’t so bad after all. I say that now…

NEW GOALS:

• Improve PR of 5K from this weekend.
• Sign up for 5K
• Sign up for 10K once 5K completed
• Do Tough Mudder type event with Terra
• Run 10 Miler
• Work up to 1/2 marathon

My nostalgic item from college was a clock. A stupid black and white, cheap, whopping TEN dollar wall clock from Target. I bought it the fall semester of my sophomore year when I had just moved into my sorority for the first time. I lived with 3 other girls and when we were decorating our room, I bought this little cheap clock to hang on our wall. It hung above us all, above our couch in a spot where we all could see it. At the end of the semester, I moved down the hall and it came with me. Every time I moved, in college and even in Chicago, it came with me. The Clock found a spot on a bedroom or bathroom wall in every apartment I’ve had ever since. It became a staple of my room. While a lot of stuff got tossed when I moved to DC, I was sure it made the trip with me when I shipped my stuff. I didn’t know what it was about The Clock, but it made me comfortable knowing it was there. The place never felt like home until it was hanging on the wall. As the years passed, I changed but The Clock stayed a constant in my life.

It was a good cheap little clock; I rarely ever had to change the battery on it, maybe max two or three times in 9 years. That’s magical in clock lives. When I arrived in DC, it was one of the first things I unpacked. I immediately hung it on the bathroom wall and felt comforted. I noticed that afternoon that The Clock had stopped. So, naturally, I replaced the battery. It worked for about 15 minutes and then stopped again. So I bought a brand new pack of batteries and tried again. It not only stopped working, it killed the brand new batteries. This repeated 3 or 4 times before I finally gave in and said my goodbye. It wasn’t the batteries, The Clock had had enough. I paused and had a bit of a hesitation when I put it in the trash but knew it was for the best.

When I first bought The Clock in 2004, it was symbolic of the times changing. I was no longer a silly naïve young Freshman at Indiana University. I knew the campus, I was older, wiser and now I was a sorority girl living in a sorority house. I was on the verge of a lot of change and had a lot of adventures and growth ahead of me. 

Looking back, it is goofy that I had an attachment to a clock. But when I stop to think about it – it is quite symbolic of my life. It was with me for almost 9 years. It was there with me through all my college experiences. It was like a fly on my wall that witnessed many firsts and tears, tons of late night girl chats, silly sorority girl fights, hours of long studying, boy crushes, and while I didn’t realize it at the time, it likely was with me from the very first time I ever met The Ex, 3 years before we ever dated. It was with me through our entire relationship and as I lived out The Year of Caryn, looking to rediscover and find myself, it was there.

I moved to DC because I felt in my heart that I needed a fresh start. I wanted to put the past behind me and start a new. I knew it was time for a new chapter in my life to begin, time for new adventures and for change. While the clock used to be a constant in my life, I’ve learned that the only thing that is constant, is change.

It’s funny – it wasn’t just a silly cheap little clock, after all. It represented almost an entire decade of my life. There was no logical explanation as to why this move was any different from the many that came before, or why The Clock was hell-bent on killing every new battery I tried. The only thing that was different was me. I had changed. I am not the same girl who bought it 9 years ago nor am I even the same woman I was when I said goodbye to The Ex. The fact that the day The Clock stopped was the very day I moved in to my new apartment, in a new city; the day I was starting over with new adventures and a new beginning, is just too wild to be a coincidence. Moving here, I told the Universe I was ready to put all that had happened in Clock Decade behind me in order to embark on this new path. Just like that part of my life, The Clock is just a nostalgic memory now. I had to say goodbye to it, move on, start fresh and buy a new clock to go on the wall. Change of times, indeed.