The thing about Valentine’s Day is, if you keep your eyes open, you’ll find love and kindred spirits among all sorts of people. Some of these people might offer you romantic love; others will give you a sustained and dedicated, familial love; still others will […]
Back in December, Daniel and I spent a week with his folks on the east coast. We mostly kicked it around his childhood home and sweet little hometown, catching up with his family and friends. But on one particular day of our visit, we ventured […]
I am sitting at my desk writing to you today, and I think I may be dying. You see, I just ran 3.5 miles around our neighborhood park. Historically, this is not a sentence I would utter. I am not a runner.
Colorado, however, has something of a legacy of running. It is a runner’s paradise, full of possibility and fun, and steeped in tradition. Or so I have always been told. As I said, I am not a runner. I have never really understood the appeal of punishing your legs, mind, and dare I say soul, by hitting the pavement for mile after mile after mile. Dredging every last bit of will out of your body to complete the course you have arbitrarily set before you.
Recently however, in a plot twist none of saw coming, all of that changed. Blame the new year. Blame the fact that I’m now in my 30s, and apparently embarking on this fourth decade of life means I’m more athletically ambitious now. (Does that sound like science? Is there a scientist in the house?) Whatever the reason, last weekend I registered for a 10K. And then I ate a donut.
To many, a 10K is easily conquered. It’s only six miles after all, what’s the big deal anyway? But for me, a person who has never really participated in an organized run of any length, let alone six miles in quick succession, this might as well be my Everest. (Yes, I am piling on the hyperbole today. Did I mention the 3.5-mile run? Send medical help.)
The 10K in question is the Bolder Boulder. This race is about as iconic Colorado running as it gets. It loops in and around the city of Boulder, and ends in the football stadium on the University of Colorado Boulder campus. (My alma mater. Fun fact: I never attended a football game while a student there. I didn’t get the memo about being a normal college kid.) This year will be the event’s 40th anniversary, and what better time to dive into organized running than that? Am I right? Am I wrong? Submit your votes.
The Bolder Boulder takes place in May, giving me five months to train. So let’s talk strategy. And by that I mean, please share your running tips and tricks, and possibly even your advice for relocating to a different country and assuming a new identity. Whatever you think might be helpful.
SIGNED, anya elise
Let’s be real, my dears, 2017 often felt not unlike an epic journey such that Odysseus, with his sirens, six-headed monsters and homicidal cyclops, would not have been entirely out of place. Can I get an amen? With that said, however, if you were keen […]
We sat on the couch, watching Netflix, bundled under thick blankets my sister knit us, sharing red wine and eating Hershey’s chocolate kisses. The clock ticked at its reliable rate toward midnight. I had a slight head cold. Before long — tick tick tick — we […]
My name is Anya. I’m a photographer, writer, wife, sister, Colorado native, small business owner, voracious reader, lover of coffee, and advocate for all things beautiful and life-giving. This blog is a bit of an extension of my professional work while also being distinct and free-flowing and entirely at the mercy of my creative whims. So thank you for being here, dear readers, and hold on to your hats! (And if you’re not wearing a hat — get one! I’ll wait…)