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Name: Michelle
Birthday: 4/22/1986
Interests: God, writing, reading, travel, music, movies, hiking, camping, experiencing life and learning a thing or two along the way
Occupation: Newspaper reporter/photographe
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  Gdart3
Member Since:
3/11/2005
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| I am not an athlete by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, this summer was the first time I ever took exercising seriously. I took jogging in college and, well, let's just say it didn't agree with me. But when I found out that after a little training I could run 3 miles, the thought of running more wasn't so daunting.
So when a lady from church suggested that I run a half-marathon at the Chickamauga Battlefield on Nov. 14, I gave it some thought then started a training schedule for a "novice" runner.
For three-and-a-half months, I steadily increased my mileage, and let me tell you, I had moments where I thought I'd never get up to 13.1 miles. Thankfully though, several women at my church were training for the half and full marathon, so that was a serious motivator. Even though I only ran with them a few times, it really kept me going. Oh, that, and my boyfriend was constantly encouraging me. 
So, this past Saturday, after having had a lovely carbolicious meal of pizza and beer the night before, I laced up my running shoes and headed to the battlefield. Nearly 1,500 people were racing that day, and the excitement in the crowd was contagious. I've been to sporting events where the fans made the game come alive. But to be in "the game" was a completely different experience. I loved it.
The race started with the firing of a cannon, and we were off at 7:30 a.m. I didn't see anyone I knew for a couple miles, but I ran into a few ladies from church soon after. Even though we didn't talk very much, simply having them by my side as a ran gave me a boost.
The first few miles weren't bad at all. I felt invigorated and content running in the cool, sunny weather, but that changed at around mile eight. My knees started aching and my hamstrings turned to jello, but I was determined not to stop running. Mitch was waiting to cheer my on at one of the spectator points, which was pretty awesome. All the spectators were great. I loved high-fiving kids on the side of the road and reading the signs "You're doing great!" as I jogged by.
The last few miles were tough. I wanted to go faster for the final push, but my legs wouldn't let me. I was breathing fine, but I was throbbing everywhere. I swear, the last mile was the longest. I kept going around curves, hoping to see the finish line, but it went on forever! Finally, at just .2 miles to the end, I saw Mitch, and he ran in the grass beside me until I crossed the finish line at 2 hours and 30 minutes, where he picked me up and swung me around in congratulations.
For the next half-hour or so, I cooled down and stretched and watched other racers finish. When I got back to Mitch's, I was more exhausted than I can ever remember. But today, I feel fine, surprisingly.
I'm so glad I did it, just to prove to myself I could do it. I don't tend to stick with things very long, but let me tell you, it pays when you do. Oh, and by the way, I don't think this will be my last race.
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| Be forewarned — this could be a sappy post.
Saturday marked six months of dating Mitch, and on such an occasion as that, he explored with me where we've been during that time, and before it too. At the beginning of the day, he told me that we would be going places we've been before (six total to mark six months) and places we haven't been before.
I'll list them in chronological order, even though we didn't visit them in that order.
We went to Murphy's Ale House in Chattanooga, where he first had the thought of me on New Year's Eve; his parent's house, where we waltzed in his cozy library — the first time he remembers dancing with me; Pocket Wilderness, where we had our first date (complete with rescuing a Collie and talking to its owner, a doomsday Seventh-day Adventist lady); the Episcopal church in downtown Chattanooga, where he asked me if he could be my boyfriend on Good Friday; Rudd Auditorium on the Bryan College campus, where we first held hands while watching "Annie Get Your Gun;" and finally, my back porch, where I first cried in front of him (rather significant, because I don't cry much).
Oh, and with each place we visited, he gave me a colored picture of a flower with a haiku written on it. When we went to the final destination at Bowertopia (his parent's house), he had a real bouquet of each of the flowers he colored.
As for the places we hadn't gone to, we visited McKay, a used books, CDs and DVDs store, where we bought about 15 cheap CDs each (woohoo!). And we also went to the English tea house place, where we had afternoon tea and finger foods for supper.
So, in sum, Mitch + me + his creative genius and romanticism = best date ever.
The end.
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On the first day of school in my town
I cover education for my county's newspaper, and every time I set foot in a school to report on new gym bleachers, new principals or assemblies on conservation, I feel like I'm traveling through a time warp back to my school days. I also feel like Josie from Never Been Kissed when I go to the high school, but that's another story.
I took pictures of elementary school kids filing off the bus for their first day of school, and I remember the anxiety and anticipation I felt at the beginning of each year. I would wander down the long gravel road to the highway and wait for Paula, my bus driver, to pull up. I usually had a token friend to sit with near the front of the bus, and I would giggle and doodle and rest my eyes on the 20-minute descent into Watkins Glen, N.Y., a small valley town of only 2,000 people.
The other day, when I covered band kids previewing their half-time show for parents, I remembered how much I liked band geeks. I wasn't one of them — I was more into the art, drama and choir scene, but they were down-to-earth, nerdy type of people, just like the ones I saw the other day.
In visiting those schools, I don't think what I felt was nostalgic. School was hell sometimes, as most children can attest to. It's funny what sticks out to you through the years. Some memories are crystal clear — like when Adam pointed out that I had a big nose in the eighth grade, or when my best friend sent me secret admirer letters out of jealously.
I was a punk at times too. As a second-grader, I get fed up with a boy in my class, so I opened up his applesauce and put it in his lunch box. When he shook it around (as he typically did), the applesauce and his tears went everywhere. I also got feisty with a boy for making fun of my overweight friend. That sure shut him up.
Technology and trends change, but growing up doesn't. Neither does the human experience. I was a crazy little "Christian" kid, trying to save all my friends and family from the fires of hell. I didn't know how to follow Christ then, and I'm still finding my way today. People, ideas, and Scripture challenge me every day. You mean I'm supposed to love my enemy? Does God really send people to hell for eternity? Do I truly live out the 1 Corinthians 13 model for love?
I don't know how to wrap this up, mostly because I don't know what the conclusion is. It seems like whatever I start writing, I end up with God, not on purpose, but it just happens. I suppose God IS the conclusion.
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| I decided not to keep the puppy. I was very tempted to, but it's not the right time for it. However, I had a thought last weekend. My boyfriend's family has a dog that has needed a companion for quite some time, so I suggested that they take her.
Yesterday I drove her up to their place, which is a virtual dog heaven — no leashes, woods, wide open spaces — and Mitch's mom met her ... and fell in love with her instantly. And she gets along great with the older dog, too. So now the little pup has a great home! Hooray! I admit, I was a bit sad waking up today knowing I wouldn't get to play with her every day, but hey, I get to see her grow up, if from a distance. That's good enough for me.
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| If any of you remember some of my previous posts from a while back, I was considering taking a very long road trip out West this summer, after I quit my job and became a proverbial hippie. Well, since I have reason for staying here (i.e. I like my job now, and I am becoming more and more attached to this area for various reasons), I decided against it for the time being.
However, I am still taking a road trip next month to Colorado and Wyoming, more specifically, the Grand Tetons! I'm taking nine days to go out there with my sister, and I can't wait to see the mountains, and bison and whatever else is out there. Well, I actually don't know much about that area, so I was wondering if any of you could suggest must-see places we should go to or places we should probably skip.
The Grand Tetons
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