Five things I have thought this week:

1. If you pause and ask yourself if you should or should not wear a sloth shirt, that is not a question. You should always wear a sloth shirt.

2. Why do I want to hid under the covers when Liz Lemon reaches out to stroke Peter Dinklage on the head because she thinks he is a child, but laugh my ass off when Dave Chapelle talks about raping feet?

3. Ed Sheeran must be a god to red heads everywhere, because he is even on the hip-hop station.

4. Lots of my friends posted pictures of them with their babies for Mother's Day and I took a picture of me gardening with my dog. I'm sure they love their children, but I'm going to take a moment to assume those babies where no more help gardening than Yadi was and he doesn't poo or pee in the house or wake me up at night. He does shed, though, and roll in dead things sometimes. Tit for tat, I guess.

5. I wave and give seven blessings to every car that actually stops at their stop signs and doesn't run me over. Seven blessings is from Game of Thrones, but I can only think of three blessings I'd give to someone: Health, Happiness, and Love, but three blessings sounds pathetic.

     There are four men I've never met who had great influence on me. Together, they are The Beatles. It has been pointed out to me, recently, that these men I do not know but I love, may have lead me slightly astray. "All you need is love," The Beatles told me. The argument came that life is hard and love isn't all you need. You also need food, water, shelter, support, feelings of self-worth, and the list goes on and on and on. Basically, it's not enough to love a baby to help it grow into a functioning human. It's not enough to love your friend to be a good friend--you also have to make time for them and listen. It's not enough to love your significant other--you also have to consider their feelings/thoughts/schedules. You get the picture.

     "It's easy!" The Beatles also told me. This part I agree with. Loving is easy. I think the work comes in choosing to act on that love. To listen, to make time, to consider someone else, to support, all of it. OK, I get this. I see where I was wrong. Today while I was running, though, I was thinking about self-love. Sometimes it's not easy to love yourself. And when that happens all of the other choices--self-worth, support, taking time for yourself--all of the things you might do for someone else you love fall out the window when it comes to loving you.

    I've tricked myself into believing that I am really good a self-love, because I tend to be proud of my brain and like to read and learn and improve. I've only just started to see that self-love spread outward to my body as well. In college I had a not-life-threatening-but-still-not-healthy eating disorder--I ate, but very strictly, tracked every calorie and was in a constant battle to get the calories out number as high as I could and the calories in number lower. At my worst I weight 117 pounds and had 11% body fat. Even that skinny, I didn't love my body--it was just a vehicle getting me around.

     The first two years after college I gained my Friends Fifteen, so-called because my college roommates and I were homebodies and didn't go out a ton. When they moved, I had to find new friends and go out to be social. Going out meant I had to loosen up on my calorie standards. It also meant I drank more. But I didn't care as much about the weight gain because I had friends and, especially as an introvert, making friends isn't easy after college. I'd for sure thought when my roommates moved I'd be alone forever.

     When I was running today, in a sports bra and shorts, I remembered how jealous I used to be of my aunt's confidence to run in only a sports bra. I never would've done this when I weighed twenty pounds less. The last few years, it's been a no brainer for me--why not be cooler and get a tan? Then, because I was running and thinking is what I do while I run, I realized how much I love my body. It has taken me up and down mountains, ran, biked, and swam thousands of miles and lifted hundreds of pounds.  And keeps me living. My body is truly an amazing thing.

     Then I remembered why I started running in just a sports bra. It's not because I look like a super model in it (I wish I could post you a meme here of what I wish I looked like--see Baywatch--and what I actually look like--sweaty with a lil chunk, hot mess--but I'm not tech savvy and would have no idea who to make said meme). It's because I did it to prove someone wrong. A few years ago I started seeing a guy. The first time this guy saw my stomach he said, "Huh. I thought you'd look like a personal trainer." I said, "What does that mean." "I just thought, you'd, you know, have abs," he said. The part of me that was raised by several bad-ass, independent women wanted to say, "Whoa. Who the hell do you think you are to say that to me and who do you think you are that the .001% of the female population with abs would ever hook up with you, Moobs and Muffin-top?" He totally had man boobs and a fluffy belly. A bigger part of me, told myself to be nice, you love yourself and he probably has body image issues that he's taking out on you. The Daddy Issues side of me would've made out with him anyway. It was summer. It was 100% humidity and 90 degrees. I, pissed off at being called chunky, started to run with my belly out.

     I'm not saying that I let some dude's opinion of my body dictate what I did/do. But I did choose how I let his statement affect how I see myself. Everything you experience is through your filter and yours only. You get to choose who you love and how you love about everyone around you including yourself. I hope you take any negativity and filter it back through into a fire that makes you stronger, makes your love for you better. It's not easy, but all you need to do is to choose that love. I've never posted something #wcw and I've never posted a picture of my muscles, but today I want to give a long overdue shout out to my body. I'm a hard person to deal with sometimes, but I'm going to choose to keep loving me inside and out.

My boyfriend asked me when we first started dating
what my favorite part of my body was. I said my eyebrows.
He thought that was weird. I do have killer eyebrows,
but it should be known I love my legs the most because
they take me all over the  world. 

You see tummy chunks and man shoulders. I see someone
who is strong and never says no to cake. What's life without cake?

Still struggling to blog. I've been working a lot on my fiction as of late, and reading a ton, but my non-fiction, i.e. blogging, is going down the toilet. I think it's because the real world is getting more and more depressing as we slip farther into Trump's presidency. Earth day is coming, though, and there is a new march brewing for our Mother Earth! As Trump poses a total joke of donating his salary as president to the Interior Department ($78,333) but plans to cut $1.5 billion from the Interior Department (the department that oversee National Parks/Monuments/Forests/Grasslands/etc), I hope to stand with friends and march for our many historical sites, national monuments, national parks, and all the great pieces of land on this country. I won't even touch on the fact that New Yorkers are paying $500,000/day for Trump's family to stay in New York either.

Last year I made a goal of traveling to one national park/year not as a hope to see as many things as I can before Trump pollutes our nation (literally and figuratively) and not because I think they'll all burn down--please see Smokey the Bear below--but because the great outdoors is the greatest place in all the land. Seriously. I know many who voted for Trump are too busy looking toward the next life to care about how much damage will be done to the here and now, but for real, I don't think I've lived yet, as I haven't been to Yellowstone, or the Grand Canyon, or Redwood Forest. Not to make this all about me, Yadi, and all the billions of creatures that live in the wild also love parks and I know lots of humans do too. If nothing else, I'm sure people like clean drinking water, so go out on Earth Day and stand for your water and air quality.

Yadi and I recently took a road trip south to run in different parts of the country. I hit up a 50k in Stillwater, Oklahoma, we hiked in Oklahoma City, we ran and hike about 25 miles in Palo Duro Canyon in Texas, and then camped and ran in the Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge. All of those jobs of the people who sustain life in these parks and refuges, all of the people who enjoy nature, all of the plant and animal life who depend on these spaces, suffering. Our Mother Earth has given us everything and yet we continue to destroy her. If you believe in the soul of our earth, the validity of science, and if the great, great world makes your heart happy, call your representatives, march, pick up trash in your park, donate your money, become a member of our parks and don't let Trump rape our Mother. 

                                        

Yadi and I took an epic road trip in March, not to do any soul searching, but to see some of our most loved and missed people, run some miles, see some cool shit, and hang out just the two of us. Yadi was a perfect road trip buddy--he didn't complain, he didn't change the music, and he picked out good snacks. We headed south to Stillwater, OK to run a very, very muddy 50K with our friends Molly and Cade, watch FRIENDS (our favorite show), eat good food, and take a Google Earth Tour of Cade's hometown and Google Earth a 14er trip. 

Then we went even farther south to Texas to hang with our cousin (Yadi's scuzzin) and old roommate Darby. We ran trail, ate birthday cake, went to Darby's museum, ate more good food, hiked, ate more good food, got up to watch the sunrise at Palo Duro Canyon, and hiked more. 

 
Then we went to Wichita Mountain Wildlife Refuge and trail ran, watched the sun set on top of Scott Mountain, and camped. Then we ran, almost were killed by long-horns, ran, and came home.

I needed a break from work. I needed to see my people who live far away. I needed to be outside. I knew all of these things. What I didn't know is how much my dog needed them. Since our week of traveling and sleeping in different beds, living in different houses, and doing both in my Jeep, Yadi has lost so much anxiety. He's still an attention whore and still hates new people, but, after 3 years, I can finally leave and, instead of destroying everything in the house, he chills, apparently knowing I'll come back. Camping with my dog and having him look out for me when we were on our own (and almost being killed by longhorns) made me love him even more than I thought I could. Of course I learned things about myself taking a solo-road trip, but the best part about it was that I got to do it with Yadi. Love and Nature fix everything--even my stress ball best friend. 

I've been missing a beat in blogging. I haven't been writing, partly because I've been studying (and passing!) to become a Certified Behavior Change Specialist, mostly because it's hard for me to think of writing non-fiction. I want to hole up in a world of my own with my dog and books and the mountains. The news hurts my heart more than I ever thought possible, and I find it hard to look people in the eye sometimes. But silence is what Trump and his administration want. So I'm trying.

The day after the election I called my parents and told them that when I was kid someone touched me, kissed me, licked me all over my body when I said no. I wasn't raped. But I was violated and I hadn't told them because I never wanted them to think they'd let me down. Knowing that our country's leader has bragged about grabbing women "by the pussy" and how he'd have sex with his own daughter made me feel I had to talk--that I needed to put a face to that kind of talk. When Trump talks about grabbing some woman no one knows it's just "locker room talk", but when I say I was grabbed by the pussy, I hope at least, the people I know who voted for a rapist know that's not OK. So this is me. This is me a girl who's first knowledge of intimacy was as a child who said no, who didn't know what sex was, who was made a 1 in 4 statistic. And this is me, a woman, saying that is not OK.

My friend Elisa and I marched last month at the Omaha chapter of the Women's March on Washington. 18,000 people of all different colors, backgrounds, shapes, sizes, ages, genders--I had goosebumps, my eyes teared up. I don't think there's ever been a time in my life that I've felt so part of something so important. The next weekend my boyfriend and I went to his friends' house to write letters to our senators. We wrote on women's rights, Black Lives Matter, the immigration ban and refugees, education, alternative facts, the keystone pipeline--all of it. Using my words and my body to stand against hate helped me turn anger into physical acts I hoped could make a difference.

Betsy DeVos was voted in as secretary of education. Instead of feeling like I should give up, I watched a video of all those who spoke against her and remembered the power of words. Elizabeth Warren went straight badass today to fight against Trump's racist, Jeff Sessions. Republicans tried to silence her, but others have posted the rest of Coretta Scott King's letter. Words. A voice. I used to think I was a lover not a fighter, but I was wrong. I'm not going to run away and pretend bad things aren't happening. I'm going to stay here and fight because I love. Of course there's a perfect JK quotation for this post:

“Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy.” – Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Elisa and me being Nasty Women at the Women's March and Yadi as a Bad Hombre

I know many people have been hating on 2016 and have been ready for it to be over as it's taken many beautiful celebrities from the world and brought us the horror that is the Trump Presidency or as I'm going to call it, That Which Should Not Be Named--you know, kind of like when they said we shouldn't give ISIS power by calling them by their chosen name? I'm just going to pretend That Which Should Not Be Named doesn't exist. End rant.

Personally, 2016 was an epic year for me. I keep repeating to myself "what a difference a year makes." I really can't believe my life some days. Not that my life is epic, but that I let myself get so far away from who I am and how easily it all came back together once I gave time to me. The last half of 2015 was the most challenging time of my life. It's the first time I've ever felt I didn't know who I was. Part of that was me--not standing up for myself and letting myself feel crappy when someone else told me I was wrong. Part of it was the situation I found myself in, which, really, is also my fault. As a chronic helper, I thought I was supposed to be helping other people and found myself doing things I didn't want to do and trying to be someone I wasn't for the sake of other people. I was also looking at the world at large and seeing people suffer all around the world and feeling so small, insignificant, and pathetic in my need to help. In 2016 I wanted to hit the ground running, literally, and never look back. I took time for myself and decided to get back to basic. Running--my therapy, my religion. In 2016 my goal was to run in 16 new places. In the process, I found myself (quickly, she wasn't very far away), realized I have the best support team in the world who love me for me, and figured out ways that I can give myself to the causes I believe in. Here's what a year running and a year of happiness looks like in the life of one strange human:

January running in Arizona with my wonderful friends Trish and Mike Story.
30 miles in 3 days. Trails, warm weather, and friends=best therapy ever. 

February running in Vegas. Trip with my ma and aunt Linda.
I ran the North and South side of the strip and into Old Las Vegas.

LandRun 50K Stillwater Oklahoma with my 3 most favorite running friends
Cade, Molly, and Karyn <3 Also the birth place of Kerin. 31 miles. March

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with my Sole Sister. We did city and trail running
and sold football gear to teen boys and drank good beer and
ate in fancy restaurants in yoga pants. April

Kerin runs in Roca and Valprasio Nebraska for the Double Half Mary in April

Lots of running days in Madison, Wisconsin, home of beer, cheese, and my college roommate
and dear friend Courtni. Codie and I ran on the University's Cross Country Course and
I ran all over downtown in this state's capital, and trail near the lake. May

So I'm missing a picture of a Kerin run in Elkhorn, Nebraska so
enjoy this fun paddle boarding pic of us. July

Wilderness Park Lincoln, Nebraska with my ma.
She biked, I ran. We did NOT get poison ivy. July

Denver, Colorado. Another Kerin adventure--getting into the bulk of
Run Rabbit Run training. Trails, camping, good food, friends,
and a wedding because we like to dance too. July

The one only and ever time that Nate has run with me. I will keep this picture
all of my days and love it. Moline, Illinois August

Adventures of Kerin and Yadi. Preparation Canyon State Park Iowa
And ending in my lake. First 70 mile weekend of my life.

Yad Dog and I took on Lewis and Clark Mountain Bike Trails in Iowa

August. Birthday weekend. Second 70 mile weekend of my life

 Then I went on a new place hiatus. Because Run Rabbit. And Run Rabbit Recovery. That was more traveling and 50 miles of running in one day, but not a new place. I did pick up soon and start training to pace a marathon and something really cool happened. I sent out a Facebook plea for friends to come run for 4 hours with me on the Wabash Trace in Iowa. I had a line up of 6 friends and Yadi who all came out and let me practice pacing them for hour long shifts for 4 hours. It was the coolest thing. I love my people.

The pacing of said marathon--actually 26.6 miles. I paced 4:30. Kansas City, Missouri.
Pacing races is also a big time dream of mine. Running and helping people
reach their goals. Perfect. Oh! And I had a great date the night before
and good drivingpartner and awesome museum nerd friend. November.

The weekend after the marathon Kerin traveled to Birmingham, Alabama
to visit our friend Pam. Pam was the hostess with the mostess taking
us on a ropes course, to watch lots of football, to good food
places, and running in the woods. November

This doesn't count as a running place, although I did run here.  But it's an adventure
that makes me happy so I'm including it. I've never been to Wisconsin in
my life and I went there twice in 2016! This time to a Packer's game
at Lambeau Field. In December, in the snow. To me, this is how football should
be played and I've never experienced a snowy game like that. I ran 100 feet to get to a shuttle
and then 3 miles inside on a treadmill. Like I said, I'm not counting it, it just makes me happy. 

Last run of 2016. Clover, South Carolina. 2016 = 1,600 miles and 16 new places
12 different states. Lots of friends. Lots of love. 

I haven't decided if I'll try to run in 17 new places in 2017. I'm one in so far if I do. I have a goal of running 3 50Ks in 2017. And the general goals of being the best version of myself and writing and being a good dog mom. Oh, and 2 new life goals: to be the fastest old lady in the world (95+ age division) and to go to as many National Parks as I can. Hugs to you all.

I haven’t known what to write since the election. I’m angry. I’m scared. Mostly, I feel lost, because I want to write for kids and I don’t know what to tell them. “I let you down,” is maybe what I should say. Or I can say that I will fight for them, but is that really good enough? To say, “I’m here for you” but know that I’m going home to my house, which is safe and full of food, and so many young people in America don’t have that?

I’m sure people are expecting me to come out with a post about the social injustices that will occur with the horror that Trump has been elected our president. That thought is interesting to me, because I’m not a political person. I’m not a patriotic person. I do not believe in America, but I care greatly, greatly for her people, and even more so, the world’s people. I am a humanist, not a patriot. I’m so jealous of my friends and family who have written words of hope and courage. You make me happy, and I need you now more than ever. I can’t understand how a man who gropes women, brags about the sexuality of his own child, makes fun of people handicaps, wants to separate families and ship out people who live here, has attacked veterans and their families, slams journalists and our freedom of the press and speech, denies the need to protect our environment, and refuses to give safety to those fleeing war-torn countries could ever be president of the Land of the Free. Before you hang me, know that I also am ashamed that I live in a place that is supposed to be a democracy and the Democratic party rigged it’s own nomination. I don’t know if Hillary knew it or not. I don’t care. I understand that this fact made many feel their vote was futile. I also realize that some of you voted against Hillary because you believe she had bad business outside of our country. Have you looked at America? We are so incredibly horrible on the inside, how can you even look outside our borders?

I was in Alabama two weeks ago and my friends and I walked through Kelly Ingram Park in Birmingham. In 1963 a Reverend led a peaceful protest of students—most of them grade school through high school aged—in this park. The protest was lead by students because adults could no longer afford to protest for fear of losing their jobs with long jail time. These school children’s protest was met with arrests, police dogs, and fire hoses. The fire hoses were so powerful they blasted children off their feet, ripped their clothes off, and tore the hair from their heads. You can watch a video about the park here  or this video about the Children’s Crusade--which is longer but totally worth the watch/listen.

I’ve been going on a decent Stay-Away-From-Social-Media purge the last few months, however, 

this hit my eye last week, a day after I got home from Birmingham. How? How can this be happening? We study history in hopes that we humans will progress and learn from our mistakes. Yet, here we are. Again. And now, we have a president elect that is endorsed by the KKK. His VP is a man who believes in conversion therapy for LGBTQ people. Electro shocking human beings. America gave power to a man who just said today: "Somebody willsay, 'Oh freedom of speech, freedom of speech.' These are foolish people. Wehave a lot of foolish people." How do you feel about the president threatening your Freedom of Speech? The FIRST amendment.

I hope you watch the video on the Children’s Crusade and are appalled. How could this country, “The Greatest Country in the World,” blast children with 100 pounds of water pressure because they were walking for their right to equality? I then hope you realize it’s happening again in 2016. 53 years later and we haven’t learned a thing. I hope you were horrified when you learned about Hitler and how he, a democratically elected leader, killed 6 million people because they were “different” than him. Again, here we are 80-some years later, and we’ve elected a man who has lashed out against African Americans, women, journalists, Muslims, and immigrants.

Tom Moe, a POW who spoke on an anti-Trump add former Republican Candidate John Kasich put together, put together his own spin on an anti-Hitler poem Pastor Martin Neimoller wrote saying:

 "You might not care if Donald Trump says Muslims should register with their government, because you're not one. And you might not care if Donald Trump says he's going to round up all the Hispanic immigrants, because you're not one. And you might not care if Donald Trump says it's okay to rough up black protesters, because you're not one. And you might not care if Donald Trump wants to suppress journalists, because you're not one. But think about this: If he keeps going, and he actually becomes president, he might just get around to you. And you better hope there's someone left to help you."

I’m using my voice while I have it. For myself and those I love and those I don’t know. In my heart I keep telling myself Love Trumps Hate, but I'm scared of the road to get there.