I think I’m supposed to feel a certain way about turning 30. The cliche seems to be that I should dread the fact that I’ll no longer be in my 20s. I think I’m also supposed to have a list of things I wanted to do by the time I turn 30. And then I think I’m supposed to mourn the fact that I’ve accomplished so little and vow to do better in the next decade. Truth is, I’m excited to turn 30. I’ve have been for quite some time. For at least eight years now, I’ve said that I’m going to make a list of all the things I have done by the time I turn 30. So, here are some of the high, low, and just plain immature moments from the past 10 years.
2004: 20—No longer a teenager
Though I don't know that being 20 made me an adult either. In February, I was living in Bismarck, ND and working at a the Ground Round as a server. I was taking classes at Bismarck State College (BSC), or Harvard on the Hill, as we called it. I spent most of my free time partying at one of the cooks’ apartments after work. I would use my fake ID to buy a bottle of Sauza Gold Tequila and my friend and I would take swigs from it. We did this because we hated the taste of beer and didn’t want to waste our calories on mixers. (Sorry, Mom and Dad.)
As far as real accomplishments go, I managed to graduate from BSC with my Associate of Arts. I then moved to Fargo to finish my Bachelor's degree.
As far as real accomplishments go, I managed to graduate from BSC with my Associate of Arts. I then moved to Fargo to finish my Bachelor's degree.
2005: 21—Weeeeeee!
I stopped using my fake ID when I moved to Fargo because I knew I would be turning 21 there and felt it was wrong to cheat the bar system. On my birthday, my brother and sister-in-law took me out for drinks. My brother ended up staying out until bar close with my friends and me, which meant more to me than he maybe realized. As far as other highlights from this year, I'm afraid I don't have many. It was a year of mostly going to school, going to work, and going out to the bar (that novelty took a while to get old).
2006: 22—Welcome to the real world
Hanging out with family. This is the year I moved up the restaurant ladder and became a bartender, something I'd actually wanted for a while. Come December, I graduated from Minnesota State University in Moorhead with my Bachelor of Arts in English. I knew I didn't want to stay in Fargo and that I wanted to go to grad school, but I didn't want to go right away. Bartending seemed like a great way to spend most of my time.
2007: 23—The real world is expensive
Long Island teas in the pool. My student loans entered repayment and I had a small breakdown about the amount of money I was required to pay back. I recall sitting on my bedroom floor and crying on the phone to my mother, who tried to soothe me by saying that the restaurant I was still working at wouldn't have offered me a manager position without a degree. I assured her they would have. I started to feel the pressure to "do something" with my life.
This was also the year I traveled to Mexico with a couple good friends. It might have been the only real vacation I've ever taken. We did nothing and it was awesome. We slept in, ate buffet breakfasts, lounged by the pool or on the beach, margaritas and/or beers in hand. We showered every day around three or four and got dressed up for dinner. After dinner, we'd walk along the beach and discuss going to the discoteca, which opened at 11 p.m. We never made it because we were always asleep by then. Best. Vacation. Ever.
This was also the year I traveled to Mexico with a couple good friends. It might have been the only real vacation I've ever taken. We did nothing and it was awesome. We slept in, ate buffet breakfasts, lounged by the pool or on the beach, margaritas and/or beers in hand. We showered every day around three or four and got dressed up for dinner. After dinner, we'd walk along the beach and discuss going to the discoteca, which opened at 11 p.m. We never made it because we were always asleep by then. Best. Vacation. Ever.
2008: 24—Limbo
Birthday party. Apparently this was cool. Still under pressure to make a life/career move, I decided to move to Memphis. I had lived there for about a year and a half during my first three semesters of college. I thought I could get a job writing or brewing beer, or maybe both. I went as far as to travel down there and apply for a cool apartment with a loft that I had no idea how I would pay for. In the end Memphis fell through; I didn't get approved for the apartment, and didn't hear back from any of the jobs to which I had applied. I felt stuck.
This was also the year I met my first serious boyfriend, though we didn't use labels, mostly because I don't think he actually wanted to be my boyfriend and I was too afraid to confront him about it. He liked me and I liked him. I told myself that was good enough.
This was also the year I met my first serious boyfriend, though we didn't use labels, mostly because I don't think he actually wanted to be my boyfriend and I was too afraid to confront him about it. He liked me and I liked him. I told myself that was good enough.
2009: 25—Still haven't got it figured out
Apparently it still was a year later. Turns out I was wrong. Liking someone wasn't enough, and I liked him much more than he liked me. He told me this one night in the spring and it crushed me. I won't go on with the details because you're probably not that interested, or if you are, I'm not that interested in being that vulnerable.
This was the year I started running. I ran my first 5k in April. I got the idea because my boyfriend and his friend ran 5ks all the time. I wanted to be one of the guys so I tried it. And was hooked. That summer, I found myself signing up for a half marathon. I trained with a local group because I didn't know the first thing about distance running. I met my first running partner, a woman in her 40s who challenged my pace constantly. I completed that first half marathon in 1:52:40, my fastest half marathon time to date, which drives me crazy.
I also gave more serious thought to my future and applied to grad schools. I told myself that if I didn't get into a school, I would move out of Fargo anyway and apply again the next year.
This was the year I started running. I ran my first 5k in April. I got the idea because my boyfriend and his friend ran 5ks all the time. I wanted to be one of the guys so I tried it. And was hooked. That summer, I found myself signing up for a half marathon. I trained with a local group because I didn't know the first thing about distance running. I met my first running partner, a woman in her 40s who challenged my pace constantly. I completed that first half marathon in 1:52:40, my fastest half marathon time to date, which drives me crazy.
I also gave more serious thought to my future and applied to grad schools. I told myself that if I didn't get into a school, I would move out of Fargo anyway and apply again the next year.
2010: 26—And then things were never the same
Post-marathon. I wasn't over my ex. I know I should have been, but we didn't have a clean breakup. It was one of those "we can't do this anymore but we're still going to, but only sometimes, when I say so" type of things. And I let it go on because, well, there's no excuse, though I'm sure I had one then. I promise I'll learn my lesson in the years that follow this one.I decided to run a marathon this year. I signed up because while part of me actually wanted to do it, a larger part of me wanted my ex back and thought he would take me back if I could run a marathon. Like I said, I promise I get smarter about these things. So, I trained for and completed my first marathon. My ex didn't take me back, but rather started dating someone else.
I found out in the spring of this year that I had been accepted to Emerson College in Boston. I knew nothing about Boston, but was ecstatic to be leaving Fargo, even though it meant leaving my family and friends. By the end of a sweltering August, my roommate and I pulled our Budget truck in front of our new apartment and began a new phase in our lives.
I found out in the spring of this year that I had been accepted to Emerson College in Boston. I knew nothing about Boston, but was ecstatic to be leaving Fargo, even though it meant leaving my family and friends. By the end of a sweltering August, my roommate and I pulled our Budget truck in front of our new apartment and began a new phase in our lives.
2011: 27—In grad school they can give you more homework than is possible to finish
Finishing the MCM. In coming to grad school, I rediscovered my endurance for reading. Just reading for hours upon hours. There was also that whole wanting to be a writer thing, so I did a lot of that too. I also rediscovered my love of Ramen noodles, and my roommate taught me to stretch a package further by adding frozen vegetables to the noodles as they boiled.
I also got it in my head that I wanted to do a triathlon. Again, I didn't know anything about the sport, so I joined a training group based out of Salem, MA. I quickly learned how intense and expensive the sport of triathlon is, especially when you have to buy all the gear except running shoes up front (bike, helmet, wetsuit, plus an assortment of other accessories). I completed my first sprint distance tri in August in Gloucester.
While I was training for the tri, I was also semi-training for my second marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) in Arlington, VA and Washington D.C. I didn't realize how good of shape tri training had gotten me into because I didn't train for the marathon as intensely as I had trained for my first but still managed to finish MCM in under four hours.
I also got it in my head that I wanted to do a triathlon. Again, I didn't know anything about the sport, so I joined a training group based out of Salem, MA. I quickly learned how intense and expensive the sport of triathlon is, especially when you have to buy all the gear except running shoes up front (bike, helmet, wetsuit, plus an assortment of other accessories). I completed my first sprint distance tri in August in Gloucester.
While I was training for the tri, I was also semi-training for my second marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) in Arlington, VA and Washington D.C. I didn't realize how good of shape tri training had gotten me into because I didn't train for the marathon as intensely as I had trained for my first but still managed to finish MCM in under four hours.
2012: 28—Athletic attempts
This finish line was tough to get to. I felt a sort of obligation to continue to further myself in the athletic sense. By this point in my grad school career, I knew what the topic of my thesis would be. I came to Emerson expecting to write about my family. When I wrote about running though, people seemed to respond to it with interest, so I decided to pursue it. I had done a fair amount of research on several of the larger marathons, one of them being the New York City Marathon. I knew it was one of the few that was a lottery. It was only $11 to enter the lottery (albeit $255 if you were selected to run). I thought it would be funny to put my name in the lottery, knowing I had about a 30% chance of being picked. In April, I found myself staring at my computer screen in disbelief; I'd been selected. I had to check my bank account to confirm.
Besides NYC, I decided to up the ante when it came to triathlon. I signed up for the Rev 3 Olympic distance triathlon in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. I could have joined a group again, but the logistics had been so messy; the group was based out of Salem and I lived in Boston without a car. I decided to tackle training on my own, which was a mistake. By the time race day came, I wasn't prepared at all and suffered through the swim portion of the race, coming out of the ocean fourth from last. I made up some time on the bike and even more on the run, but my time was pretty bad in the end. Finishing had been my goal all along, and I had managed that, but I walked away from that race with a new fear of ocean swimming that I have yet to overcome.
I didn't feel quite ready for New York, but I had felt the same about my previous marathons. I thought this was a natural pre-marathon feeling for me. Given the terrible destruction that Hurricane Sandy caused, I never got to find out. I knew the marathon was rightly cancelled. Waiting to cancel until less than two days before seemed a bit selfish when it was so clear that New York City and the surrounding areas needed all resources focused on them. It was even more frustrating to not hear from the New York Road Runners about a resolution for nearly six weeks. I don't know why I still get mad about that when I always knew I would try to run New York again. It was a no-brainer for me to sign up again in 2013; the city would be ready and the race would be huge.
Besides NYC, I decided to up the ante when it came to triathlon. I signed up for the Rev 3 Olympic distance triathlon in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. I could have joined a group again, but the logistics had been so messy; the group was based out of Salem and I lived in Boston without a car. I decided to tackle training on my own, which was a mistake. By the time race day came, I wasn't prepared at all and suffered through the swim portion of the race, coming out of the ocean fourth from last. I made up some time on the bike and even more on the run, but my time was pretty bad in the end. Finishing had been my goal all along, and I had managed that, but I walked away from that race with a new fear of ocean swimming that I have yet to overcome.
I didn't feel quite ready for New York, but I had felt the same about my previous marathons. I thought this was a natural pre-marathon feeling for me. Given the terrible destruction that Hurricane Sandy caused, I never got to find out. I knew the marathon was rightly cancelled. Waiting to cancel until less than two days before seemed a bit selfish when it was so clear that New York City and the surrounding areas needed all resources focused on them. It was even more frustrating to not hear from the New York Road Runners about a resolution for nearly six weeks. I don't know why I still get mad about that when I always knew I would try to run New York again. It was a no-brainer for me to sign up again in 2013; the city would be ready and the race would be huge.
2013: 29—Boston, you're my home
ALCS Game 2...on the Budweiser Deck! This is the year that Boston became the place I call home. And not because the Red Sox won the World Series, though that was quite the tasty cherry on top. I’m not trying to be overly sentimental, but a few significant things happened to make me feel this way. My 29th birthday was perhaps the worst one I’ve ever had. Nothing huge or dramatic happened to make it so bad, but there were a series of small things that added up and left a bad taste in my mouth. If anything, my 29th birthday made me realize that sometimes life, sometimes your birthday, or any other day or event that you want to be meaningful and significant, just isn’t. Life isn’t always within our control as much as we want it to be. Sometimes it’s just boring and ordinary. I guess that’s what my 29th birthday was. I was dating someone who I was really into, but he didn’t feel the same. I knew that, but didn’t do anything about it until my birthday. I made myself walk away, something I hadn’t done a few years earlier. I perhaps felt more strongly about the more current guy, but letting it go wasn’t as devastating as it had been a few years ago. I remembered how badly I'd been hurt before. And I remembered that I got over it and moved on. And that was all I needed this time around.
Besides emotional growth, I graduated from Emerson with my MFA in Creative Writing. There was nothing technically holding me to Boston. I could go anywhere. I could move back to North Dakota to be closer to my family. The thing is, I like it here, even though it sometimes really sucks to be so far from my family.
It’s difficult for me, or probably anyone, to think about 2013 without remembering the Boston Marathon. This was the first year I volunteered at the race, and I had the best view, about 120 yards behind the finish line. The best view quickly became a horrifying view. I won’t go into details (that’s a whole other post and/or essay). But in the days that followed, I felt a huge sense of community, one that I hadn’t felt out here. Boston felt like home.
The events of the Boston Marathon have forever changed how we think about public security, and that was clearly evidenced at the New York City Marathon, when the Coast Guard, with a gunman prepared to fire, escorted each ferry to Staten Island and the start line. The 2013 NYC Marathon saw its biggest year yet, the largest marathon field in history. It would seem that in the wake of tragedy, people still want to connect to and support one another. 50,266 people finished the New York City Marathon, and over two million people spectated. That’s an awesomely overwhelming amount of support and enthusiasm.
Besides emotional growth, I graduated from Emerson with my MFA in Creative Writing. There was nothing technically holding me to Boston. I could go anywhere. I could move back to North Dakota to be closer to my family. The thing is, I like it here, even though it sometimes really sucks to be so far from my family.
It’s difficult for me, or probably anyone, to think about 2013 without remembering the Boston Marathon. This was the first year I volunteered at the race, and I had the best view, about 120 yards behind the finish line. The best view quickly became a horrifying view. I won’t go into details (that’s a whole other post and/or essay). But in the days that followed, I felt a huge sense of community, one that I hadn’t felt out here. Boston felt like home.
The events of the Boston Marathon have forever changed how we think about public security, and that was clearly evidenced at the New York City Marathon, when the Coast Guard, with a gunman prepared to fire, escorted each ferry to Staten Island and the start line. The 2013 NYC Marathon saw its biggest year yet, the largest marathon field in history. It would seem that in the wake of tragedy, people still want to connect to and support one another. 50,266 people finished the New York City Marathon, and over two million people spectated. That’s an awesomely overwhelming amount of support and enthusiasm.
No doubt I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past 10 years, most people do over the course of a decade. For as bad as 29 started, it ended up being a pretty satisfying year, not a bad way to close out my twenties. Admittedly, I thought I would be somewhere else by the time I was 30. (Read: a solid career, married, and with multiple children. And probably also a dog and a cat and a house.) I’m not there. I think that I want all those things, but sometimes I wonder if I only want those things because I was raised to want those things. Life, at the present moment, is busy, messy, and often overwhelming, but I feel alive and I feel happy. Here’s to 30!
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