Training begins now (finally)

Tuesday April 30

Two weeks ago the area of the finish line at the Boston Marathon was devastated by two bombs. Fifty eight days ago I partially tore a ligament in my knee, sprained another ligament in my knee and nearly dislocated my patella. Forty eight hours ago I should have been running my first half marathon.

Three very different things, but all related to running. I’ve always hated running —  just ask my soccer coach growing up — but in the last year I have started to love it. On a whim last fall I decided to start training for a half marathon. My mom joked that one day I’d call her to say I was running the Boston Marathon.

Two weeks ago I decided I’d be running in the next Boston Marathon. Today was my first day of training. In my Boston Strong t-shirt, I ran one mile at an 11-minute pace — a lot slower than my pace before injury, but I didn’t have pain in my knee. I’m nearing the finish line of recovery and at the starting line of my training.

Two weeks ago my life changed forever. I felt more personally attacked by the bombings at the marathon than I did by the Sept. 11 attacks. I was young in 2001 and I lived in Minnesota. I didn’t know anyone involved. I didn’t work in the news. I could essentially ignore the tragedy. This time I couldn’t. My beloved city, that has changed who I am as a person, was attacked. But yesterday, on the two-week anniversary of the bombing, I was happy. I was excited. I was proud. I was every positive emotion anyone has ever felt.

On Monday, my physical therapist told me I can start trying to run again, albeit slowly and carefully. The only thing I’ve wanted to do for eight weeks is go for a run. After the bombings, all I wanted to do was run for Boston. Finally, I get to.

Doing laundry never felt so good

Tuesday April 23

I never thought I would get so much joy out of a simple, dreaded task like laundry.

Tonight, I did laundry and picked up my room for the first time since the bombings at the Boston Marathon. During the last week I had made my room a bigger mess than I ever could have imagined. At one point, I had taken all of the shirts out of a drawer and dumped them on my bed trying to find a specific item. When I got home that night, I took the pile of shirts and pushed them on the floor. They were there all week, mixing with my dirty clothes, shoes, bags, etc. from the long, hectic week.

This morning I was so fed up with the various piles I had “organized” on my floor that I kicked them like a toddler in a temper tantrum around my room. Thankfully, finally, tonight I picked up. I reorganized. I cleaned my clothes (I was to the point where I looked like a sailor going to work today because I had nothing left to wear). I got my life back to what it used to be.

I had time again. Time for myself. Time to sit down and breathe. Time to myself that wasn’t consumed with the thoughts and horrors of the last week. I thought about other things…about stupid things. About how how much I hate doing laundry — never is everything clean at one time! I had time to call my grandparents back.

Life is finally returning to normal. I know it’s a good thing, but it still seems weird. On Sunday I treated myself to the iPhone (due to the stressful week) and went to the memorial on Boylston Street. It was packed, so I walked the block or so to the Public Gardens and took a seat on a bench. Although I had the day off, I felt like I needed to be near the memorial. I looked over and my coworker was sitting on the next bench over. She felt the same way.

I was affected by the bombings differently than I expected I would be. I’ve always been a sensitive person, but I never thought eight days later I would still break out into tears for no reason. I don’t cry as often — I can actually look at police officers and say “thank you” without bawling. I just get slightly choked up. I’m still exhausted — I fell asleep during a root canal on Monday. No, I’m not exaggerating. I actually fell asleep during a root canal.

I still think about what happened a lot, but as more information comes out about the suspects, as victims slowly begin the healing process and get released from the hospital, and as Boylston Street reopens, I heal too. I’m starting to become whole again, too.

I’m sure the first time I walk down Boylston Street (likely this weekend) I’ll get choked up. I’ll stop and take in what happened. I’m sure a few months from now I’ll randomly think about what happened and cry. But I think that’s normal. And normal is what I need right now.

A few random things: Thank you to the Frank family for sending Potbelly sandwiches and cookies to the station today for lunch. Thank you to all my other amazing friends for the gift cards, notes, etc. It means the world to me. Thank you. Boston’s The One Fund raised over $20 million in one week for the victims of the Boston Marathon bombings. That’s amazing. I’m so proud to live in this city. Lastly, it has been very difficult to consider the suspects of the bombings suspects becauase I’m very upset with them and I feel as if the video evidence is pretty good proof they were involved, but they are innocent until proven guilty. I just wanted to say I’m mad at them and they are pretty guilty in my eyes and it’s been a struggle for me to reflect this at work, etc. Told you these were random thoughts. I just thought they needed to be said.

So many feelings

Saturday April 20

The suspect was apprehended. He’s alive.

It is time to celebrate and thank the law enforcement officials for protecting our city and working non-stop to identify the suspects, then arrest them (well, one of them). They risked their lives and tracked down the men who allegedly terrorized our city (yes, I’m saying allegedly because I’m a journalist and he hasn’t been convicted yet). They deserve more praise than anyone can give them. I am grateful for everything they did…but that isn’t helping me be less emotional about the situation.

I really, really thought once the suspects were arrested I’d be less emotional. I’m not. Is it possible to be feeling every emotion ever described? I think that’s how I am feeling. Here’s the rundown of the main ones:


Obviously I’m exhausted. Most of this city is exhausted. I’ve only had 19 hours of sleep since Sunday night. I normally have 9 to 11 hours. I’m sure my exhaustion is causing some extra emotions, but I also think these extra emotions are causing my exhaustion.


I am so very happy more people weren’t hurt. I’m so happy law enforcement apprehended the suspect. I’m so happy one of the suspects is still alive so we can get some closure. I think knowing the reason behind why someone could do all of this will help me put my thoughts in order.


I am sad anyone could do such a thing. I’m sad someone could have so much hate in their hearts they think hurting innocent people is acceptable. I’m sad for the suspects’ family (not the ones that seem especially crazy) that their relative did something like this. I’m sad for Chechnya. I’m sure this was the first time many people heard of the nation.  Now this is how many will be remembered. I’m sad for the victims and everything they have to deal with. I’m sad for those who lost loved ones. I’m sad for those who lost their lives. I’m sad for this city and what it had to go through.


Boston Strong I’m so proud of this city. I’m proud how they came together to be strong in a time where everyone could have given up and fallen apart. I’m proud of the people at the finish line who ran towards the bombsite, not away from it. I’m proud of the law enforcement officials for how fast they worked. I’m proud of the United States for supporting the city. I’m proud of 7News for its amazing coverage this week. I’m proud we were the first ones to officially report the death of the first suspect and the arrest of the second. I’m proud of the various Boston sports teams for showing how much they love this city.


I’m angry that anyone could do this. I’m angry people can be this hateful. I’m angry I’m so affected by all of this. I’m angry I’m tired. I’m angry I can’t stop crying. I’m angry my first full weekend off in a long time will end up being me sleeping instead of seeing my friends.


I am thankful for law enforcement officials, first responders and the victims. I am thankful for my amazing friends. For their kind messages, for bringing me dinner when I didn’t have time to eat, for checking in on me, for sending me Starbucks gift cards, for buying me a beer — or offering to do so in the future. I’m thankful for my family and their continuous support and love. I’m thankful for Boston — a city I now will start to officially claim as a home. I’m thankful I care so much about this city and the strangers affected, although I’m angry now that it’s making me so emotional.


I’m disgusted with the suspects. I don’t think that needs more explanation. Disgusted.


I can’t wait for some answers. I can’t wait to find out why the suspects did such a thing. I can’t wait until I don’t think about what happened every day. I can’t wait for the Boston Marathon in 2014 to see the immense show of support this city will get. That will be a beautiful day.

There is one emotion I haven’t felt very often during this entire ordeal: Fear. I was scared when I was running from Brookline to my work on Monday right after the bombings. I was scared on Monday. I was scared/nervous during the shootouts and last night when the police were moving in on the suspect. But besides times of action, I was never afraid officials wouldn’t figure out who did this. I’m not afraid of future attacks (not as in attacks from these suspects, but that someone would do it again). We can’t live in fear. A life of fear is no life at all…that’s why Boston Strong is such a powerful saying. I think the saying has helped me — and a lot of the city — to be unafraid of things someone or a group of people may or may not do.

Although I’m grateful the suspects are apprehended, it hasn’t healed all wounds and it won’t. We’ll be affected by this for life. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be able to move on from this.

Alive and in custody

Friday April 19

After I pressed “publish” on Thursday’s post everything changed.

An MIT police officer was shot and killed, armed officials searched a Red Line train and then a gunfight, complete with explosives, (which a 7News employee was in the thick of) ensued.

I stayed up all night watching the news and following the story on Twitter. I was terrified that these horrific acts were being done by people that weren’t the Boston Marathon bombing suspects.

Finally, it was confirmed it was Suspect No. 1 and 2. Dark hat and white hat. It was them. Suspect No. 1 (dark hat) was dead. Suspect No. 2 was missing. As the sun rose Friday, Watertown (the city where the shootout occurred) was in lockdown. Numerous towns, including Boston, soon followed suit.

I was locked down in my apartment and the only place I wanted to be was in the newsroom. Taxi service and MBTA service were suspended. The only way I could get to work was to walk two miles there. I waited and I tweeted.

Finally, around 11 a.m. taxi service resumed and I went in. I had been awake since 6 a.m. Thursday. I didn’t know when I’d be leaving the station, but I had never been more excited to get into work. I guess that’s what being a journalist does to you.

The day was slow. There weren’t any new developments on where Suspect No. 2 was. After an evening press conference, which lifted the “stay home” order, I was pretty sure nothing of note was going to happen for the day. Suspect No. 2 was missing and I was pissed. How could they lose him?

My co-worker, Audrey, and I were going to walk around the city and take some pictures for our stations Instagram account when we heard the newsroom erupt. There was gunfire heard in Watertown.

It was go time. Audrey and I manned our station’s social media accounts and we didn’t miss a beat. By 8:45 p.m. our reporters declared Suspect No. 2, white hat, was alive and in custody after exchanging gunfire and hiding in a Watertown resident’s boat.

7News was the first to report the suspect was in custody.We were trending worldwide. Adam Williams, the reporter who was in the midst of gunfire, was also trending worldwide. It was an awesome feeling. Audrey and I high fived when he was taken into custody… and when the streets of Watertown filled with clapping and cheering residents we teared up. It was such an emotional and amazing moment.

We stayed on air until 11:30 p.m. informing the city — and the world — the terrorists who bombed the Boston Marathon, injuring many and killing three people who had their whole lives ahead of them, shot and killed an MIT police officer, shot and injured an MBTA officer, shot at numerous law enforcement officials and tortured the residents of Boston, were no longer a threat. One was dead. One was seriously injured at a local hospital, but he was in custody.

After nearly five days of constant Boston Marathon bombing coverage we ended the 11 p.m. show with a round of applause. It was a great moment.

At 2 a.m. Saturday, after being awake for 43.5 hours, I got to go to sleep. Boston and I got to rest, better than we had all week.

Thank you to the law enforcement officials who made this happen.

Crime scene memorials

Thursday April 18

Everyone is reminded of what happened on Monday in a different way. I work in the news. I can’t escape it. At work it’s all I do. I leave work and I can’t stop thinking about it.

Others have it differently, but no one has it better. Friends walk by the crime scene every morning to get to work, others are atop the John Hancock Tower and out their window they can see blood on the street, some are nurses or doctors caring for the injured victims, others are waiting for their friends or family members to be discharged from hospitals, and some are trying to plan funerals.

This morning I went to the crime scene. Visiting Boylston Street is something I had to do. I’m not sure why.

Maybe because I’ve been covering this story all week, but haven’t left the mezzanine of 7News to do so and my journalistic curiosity was in overdrive. Maybe it’s because memorials were set up and I needed to leave my condolences against the barricades of the crime scene. Or maybe it’s because if I didn’t see it in person I wouldn’t believe it was real.

In the end, I think it was a combination of all three.

Boylston Street at Hereford Street

It was surreal to see the street that I spend most of my weekends on blocked off.  Barricades inside the crime scene were toppled over, green Gatorade cups that nourished the runners now litter the streets, and newspaper pages blew in the wind like tumbleweeds.

I stopped at memorials to take pictures, read heart-felt messages and attempt to talk to and thank the military and police officials that were standing guard, making people in the city feel safe again.

The largest memorial I came across while walking around the crime scene was at Boylston Street and Berkeley Street. I stood for a long time looking at the carefully-placed flowers, notes, sneakers, finishers medals, flags, shirts, photos and messages of love and strength.

Located right at the memorialFlowers and flags is a New York Police Department truck, which commemorates the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks. To see the memorial for the Boston Marathon victims next to the truck was very emotional. Standing next to the NYPD truck was a New York City police officer. As I walked by him to continue my journey around the crime scene I tried to say “Thank you for coming here to help us”… instead I said, “Than—“ and started crying and hurried away. I hope he knows that we appreciate that he’s here. He knows better than any of us what we’re going through.

When I got to the other end of Boylston Street I came across a woman, wearing a 2013 Boston Marathon jacket, talking to a police officer at the barricades of Boylston Street at Hereford Street. I listened to their conversation as I stared down Boylston Street.

The marathoner was telling the police officer she was just short of finishing the marathon when the bombs went off. She knew where she had stopped running and asked the police officer to point out the finish line using the visible landmarks left on the empty, debris-filled street. The officer was standing at the finish line when the bombs went off.

They told each other they would be back in Boston in 2014…and every year after that.

That is why the people who did this won’t win. That is why violence is stupid. That is why I’m so proud of the city I live in. That is why Boston is strong.

Memorial at Berkley Street and Boylston Street After a long day of work (including the FBI releasing photos and video of two suspects in the bombing and Barack Obama visiting the city and making a very moving speech at the interfaith service this morning), I returned to the crime scene. I had three hours of sleep the night before and hadn’t had a meal all day. I was exhausted, cranky, emotional, stressed and angry.

When I stood at the memorial and read the messages of hope, love and support and saw how much the memorial had grown in 13 hours, those emotions went I away. I was proud.


I uploaded a lot of photos to my Flickr account to the album #BostonStrong.

Also, here is a map of the crime scene for those not familiar with the area:

Boston Marathon Crime Scene -- April 18, 2013

Boston Marathon Crime Scene — April 18, 2013

This time normal is good

Wednesday April 17

I wasn’t sure what angle to go with for today’s therapeutic post. A lot of very different things have been swirling around in my head.

I woke up this morning hoping for a normal day. It was going to be the most normal day yet — I had physical therapy before work, which was my first time since Monday at 3 p.m. that I spoke to someone face-to-face that wasn’t a co-worker, cab driver, or Starbucks barista (besides a quick comment or two with my roommates this morning).

I was going to judge “normal” by how normal 7News kept its television schedule. I turned on my TV at 7 a.m. to see if we were staying on-air. It was the TODAY show. The day was already looking to be more normal.

The day didn’t continue that way because of various breaking news stories and false reports by many major news outlets about the identification and arrest of a suspect. This is one of the many angles I was going to take, but I wasn’t ready to analyze the way the media dealt with this situation. These thoughts will be included in a future post when the wounds of Monday aren’t as fresh in my mind and I’m able to dissect things better.

I think normal is a good thing. I’ve read hundreds of articles, tweets, blog posts, Facebook statuses, heard interviews, talk shows, etc. and something stuck with me in all of that, and for the life of me I wish I could give the source credit, but I just can’t remember. If you know what I’m talking about please comment below. Thank you.

It was about life returning to normal. It’s good that this morning felt more normal. It doesn’t mean we’re forgetting what happened.This isn’t something this city, nation or world is going to forget anytime soon. We are healing. We can’t, and won’t, stay wounded forever.

Returning to normal means the person (or people) who did this doesn’t win. Boston is strong and we’ve shown it this week and we’ll continue to show it in the weeks, months and years to come.

After the breaking news-filled day, Boston returned to “normal” with its first professional sporting event in the city since the marathon. The Boston Bruins, a team I have grown to love more than the city itself, had a game set for Monday night, which was rescheduled for a later date. They played a regularly-scheduled game tonight.

If you know anything about Boston it should be the city’s love of its sports teams. This game meant a lot to this city and the pregame ceremonies showed the Bruins felt the same way. The pregame video portraying #BostonStrong (another angle I was going to take for today’s post…which will likely be tomorrow) with an amazing video. Followed by one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen — the entire arena singing the national anthem.

My friend texted me when I sat down to write this post asking how I was doing. I responded, “It depends on the hour…I’m exhausted…But right now I’m happy for the first time since Monday [morning]. I think the Bruins stuff helped. It still doesn’t really seem real.”

The Bruins ended up losing in a shootout to the Buffalo Sabres. A win would have been too perfect. Boston is used to losing (ahem, the Red Sox championship drought) so it almost seemed fitting. Both teams saluted the fans after the game as the fans chanted USA — it was an escape from reality, yet a perfect reminder of how people can come together and show the world what really matters. We’re strong and we’re not going anywhere.

The Bruins reminded us of life before  Monday afternoon. They reminded us that as hard as it is, life does go on and we do move forward. We still remember what happened, but we’re not going to let that change what we do. We will be normal again.

We still have a ways to go. There are still armed officials lining the streets, some people are still not allowed back into their homes, streets in Boston are still a crime scene, people are in the hospital, funerals need to be had, but this is the first step towards normalcy.

I’m not one to enjoy “normal”. Heck, I’m anything but normal and I’m glad, but this time normal is good.

There are a few things I think everyone should watch/read/absorb from various sources:

Jon Stewart thanked Boston on Tuesday night during his show, the Daily Show, saying, “Thank you for once again in the face of gross inhumanity inspiring and solidifying my belief in humanity and the people of this country.” Stewart went on to use a Boston Celtics coffee cup while his guest, Tom Cruise, had a Boston Bruins cup.

Stephen Colbert had a more humorous take on Boston’s resilience. He started by saying “nothing these terrorists do is going to shake [the people of Boston]…Boston was founded by Pilgrims, a people so tough they had to buckle their Goddamn hats on…A city that made it through the Big Dig, a project that backed up traffic for 16 years. I mean, there are commuters that are just getting home now…”

Author Dennis Lehane wrote “Messing with the wrong city”, an opinion story for the New York Times which perfectly describes the people of this amazing city. He wrote, in part, “Trust me, we won’t be giving up any civil liberties to keep ourselves safe because of this. We won’t cancel next year’s marathon. We won’t drive to New Hampshire and stockpile weapons. When the authorities find the weak and terminally maladjusted culprit or culprits, we’ll roll our eyes at whatever backward ideology they embrace and move on with our lives.”

There are so many more amazing stories, opinion pieces, videos, photos, etc. that are helping me cope and try to understand or put into works what has happened. This was just a sampling of what stuck out the most to me on Tuesday.

Deep breaths

Tuesday April 16

I took the long way home from work tonight. I needed to walk on the quiet streets of the city I fell in love with the day I moved here in September 2009. It was after 9:30 p.m. by the time I left the newsroom. The wind was howling, per usual for the city of Boston, and it was drizzling. Fitting, I thought. I didn’t even mind.

I walked by army trucks, police vans and officials holding the biggest guns I’ve ever seen. I smiled to them with half my mouth and gave them a slight shoulder shrug. I was hoping to portray a thank-you-I-appreciate-you-standing-in-the-rain-to-keep-us-safe look without saying it. I knew if I opened my mouth the tears that were slowly streaming down my cheeks would flow and I wouldn’t be able to form words.

It was a walk I needed after two very long days.

Tears accompanied me to bed Monday night and woke me up this morning. My roommate walked into my room this morning before she left for work and gave me a hug. She said that’s all she could do or she’d cry again. We wished each other a good day. I cried and continued to cry throughout the day.

It was much harder to push away my emotions today. The adrenaline of the breaking news was gone. Today there were details of an 8-year-old boy who was enjoying ice cream at the finish line, a 29-year-old woman who was originally misidentified and her mother thought she was in surgery, but she was dead, a BU grad student whose family is miles upon miles away in China. The stories of the victims who no longer have legs, but feel lucky. Today it was a photo of an outdoor table at a Newbury Street restaurant — the caption reads, “Stephanies on Newbury. Not a table cleared or a check paid 18 hours later”. Photos of Boylston Street, empty and full of debris, and of armed officials stationed around the city.

Support from my friends and family continued to pour in and today it meant more to me than yesterday. Friends sent me Starbucks gift cards to get my coworkers and I through the long work hours. The cup of coffee was like a warm hug from my friends in Minnesota. Each text, phone call, tweet, email and Facebook post brought tears to my eyes and reminded me how lucky I am to have such amazing people in my life. Even the lunch CNN provided for our station made me tear up. My emotions were on high. They’re still on high.

But I know tomorrow will be worse.

I’m starting to get angry. I need to know why. Or at least when we’ll know why. Tomorrow this tragedy will really hit us. Most of the heroic stories will already be told, streets around the crime scene will continue to reopen and this city will need some answers. Officials will continue to work through the days and nights to figure out what happened. But even when they do, the answers won’t fix what has happened.

I’m sad, angry, frustrated, stressed and exhausted. I can’t stop thinking about what has happened. I still haven’t completely digested this — I’m not sure if I ever will. I got home from work just in time for 7News at 10 p.m. As I type this I’m watching it.

I was told many times today to take deep breaths. It helps, but just for a second.

Emotionally exhausted and struggling to digest

Monday April 15

Marathon Monday is one of my favorite days in Boston. The city is alive with people from around the world. It’s a celebration.

Nine-plus hours after the finish line explosions at the Boston Marathon I’m finally sitting down to digest what actually happened. I can’t comprehend it.

I got a text message as I sat down to eat lunch with a friend after watching the majority of the marathon in Brookline, about two miles away from the finish line. One text turned into hundreds. We told the waitress we couldn’t stay. I had to go to work. I hopped on the T — service was then suspended just a few stops down the road.

Then I ran, walked, jogged, cried, sobbed, screamed, my way to downtown Boston. I hurried, my bum leg and all, about three-plus miles. Nothing compared to what the marathoners were planning to celebrate Monday night.

On my walk I initially thought it was an electrical explosion — Boston, and Massachusetts, hasn’t had much luck with electricity lately (Back Bay blackout). As the text messages and phone calls poured in, I knew it was something more.

I started crying while running down the street. Some people were also in tears, others looked frantic, and the majority looked like nothing had gone wrong.

I was walking down a street that runs parallel to Boylston Street, where the explosions happened. I was two blocks off that street running and wondering. I could smell the explosion. It was smokey, but not in a good way like a bonfire, mixed with burnt hair and other unrecognizable scents. Sirens screamed by, police blocked the entrance to T stations, and everyone was in a state of confusion.

I got to work and I went into journalist mode. I tried to keep my shock to a minimum so I could attempt to concentrate on work. In a way, it’s helpful. I pretend it’s not really happening. It’s how I handled the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School and other heartbreaking events.

But what happens when you go off the air? The pretending ends. It’s real life. People have died. People were injured. The city you have called home for nearly four years was attacked. A finish line, painted on the ground year round, has a different meaning. A day full of celebration has turned dark.

I never thought I would live in a city where something like this would happen. Let alone know people at the finish line. Runners in the race. Potential victims. We’re all victims in a way. All of our hearts ache.

I’m sure this won’t be my last rambling post about today’s events. As this story unravels, as details come out about victims and so on, I’ll need to attempt to digest again.

Today Boston came together and so did people around the U.S. and the world. It’s sad that it takes a tragedy to realize how much people care. I can’t count the number of texts, calls, facebook posts and tweets I got from friends, family, old professors, high school art teachers, long-lost friends, friend’s parents… They were short messages from “Are you safe?” to “Are you okay?” to “I’m thinking about you”. It meant the world to me. I hope this caring attitude spreads across the globe. I hope people can join together and these senseless acts will end. One day the world won’t fear to celebrate…

Barack Obama said today: “Boston is a tough and resilient town. So are its people. I’m supremely confident that Bostonians will pull together, take care of each other, and move forward as one proud city. And as they do, the American people will be with them every single step of the way.”

We’re resilient. We’ll pull together. But for now, we’re hurting. A lot. Please keep this amazing city in your thoughts and prayers…hug your loved ones a little tighter tonight.

Hmpf… I miss running

Saturday March 30

I should be training for a half marathon… but this knee injury has really put a damper on it. 

It’s going to be 55 degrees and sunny today. According to the running plan I was on I should be going on a 10.5-mile run. What a perfect day for a long run. Instead, I’ll clean my room, go grocery shopping for more raw and clean food, read and write. It will be a productive day, but I want to spend time outside exercising. 

I can’t wait to graduate from physical therapy and be able to start training again. The other day my physical therapist said I could shoot for a 5k by May. So that’s what I’ll do. My goal is to find a 5k in the month of June and have a better time than I did in my last 5k. Let’s do this. 

Until then: Healthy eating and setting goals. 

I’m liking this real food thing

Thursday March 28

Today was my fifth full day of semi-raw, clean eating and…drum roll… I LOVE it. I feel great. I know what I’m eating is good for me and giving me the nutrients I need to succeed in life. I could, however, get a little more creative with my meals. Hopefully I don’t get sick of what has become my go-to food choices. 

I’ve been eating a lot of salads — with ample veggies so I don’t need dressing (I haven’t looked for one yet. If you have suggestions let me know!). I have at least one green smoothie or juice a day (so good! If you haven’t tried one before do it. I was very skeptical and now it’s all I want). Essentially that’s been my diet… Good thing I love vegetables! 

As I continue this I’ll get better at putting together meals and researching recipes. If you have any, again, lets hear them!

Overall I’m thrilled that I’m so in love with this new healthy-eating lifestyle! Yay!