Since Then…

green lakes trail bridge

Things that have happened since the last time I posted:

I wrote 85% of a race recap from the 25k back in June.

I decided to give up on finishing the race recap from the 25k back in June.

I crewed/paced a 100 miler. Emily ran Cascade Crest 100 last weekend and I had such a great time I enthusiastically wrote three pages of “lessons learned” at breakfast the next day. That post is DEFINITELY forthcoming. Promise. As soon as she fetches the list from wherever in her car I left it.

Cascade Crest 100 Finish

I got drunk and *almost* confronted my ex about his new S.O. a couple dozen times, and actually did it once. Wasn’t a very proud moment, but I can’t say I didn’t feel better after. We’ve talked about it since, and are on good terms.

I went on a few dates. This is legit my first time ever dating, and it’s pretty fucking weird. Weird and fun. Weird and scary. But I bet it was weirder in your early 20’s before you had anything other than college majors and entry-level jobs to small talk about. Anyway, my biggest fear about being “on the market” is accidentally hitting on a 17 year old.

I considered starting a new blog about dating after divorce. Remembered I can’t keep this one up to date, decided against it.

I settled into my new place. MY PLACE. Alllll mine. Well, mine and the dogs. And then mine, the dogs, and an eventual roommate when I come to the sad realization I can’t really afford the rent on my own… Anyone want to move in?

I stopped logging my miles. Ok actually I stopped keeping track a long time ago, but just recently stopped thinking about logging them. Not having an exact, to the decimal, number ready when someone asked how many miles I had on a pair of shoes felt like a real win in the Extreme Type A Recovery plan. Running feels like something I do for fun, for ME, not for my spreadsheet anymore.

Green Lakes Run

I started oversharing in person rather than on the internet. It’s true I used to unabashedly tell tales of peeing on curbs and other embarrassing and private things on the blog, but in person I was never much of a sharer. Believe it or not. Somewhere, sometime, without realizing it though, that changed. Wanna hear my life story? Some of my feelings? Thoughts on second chances, reincarnation, or gun laws? Sit on down, let me strip off this old steely outer shell I don’t want anymore and tell you ALL ABOUT ALL OF IT.

I climbed a mountain. A real life volcanic mountain. South Sister summit – 10,358 feet. Only asked Emily if we could turn around like three times (and am obviously really glad we didn’t.) Probably the most Oregon thing I’ve done since moving here.

south sister summit

And on that note…

I called Oregon home. Multiple times. All the time. Every chance I get, really. BRB gotta go buy some more Birkenstocks and a Subaru.

So yeah, things are good. Really great, actually. I’ll try to check in more often from here on out, and be on the lookout for a Cascade Crest Crew Report sometime soon.

-ish. Soonish.

Growing Up, and Apart.

Four years ago at this time I was dancing to the best cover band in Cleveland, wearing a long white dress and forgetting to eat dinner (even though I swore I wouldn’t), surrounded by my closest friends and family.

Tonight I’m sitting in the Bend riverfront apartment my husband and I planned to live out the next chapter of our lives in, wearing a backwards hat and no pants, still slightly hungover from last night’s therapeutic consumption, alone. I did remember to eat dinner this time, at least.

There won’t be any anniversary celebrations, nostalgic trips down memory lane, or jokes about “that time we got dressed up and threw a really awesome, really expensive party!” like the past few years. Instead I spent the day tying up loose ends (updating insurance policies, splitting joint accounts, boxing up little mementos from the “Sarah and Brian” era) and signing a new lease for a new apartment, one that’s just mine.

It’s easy to see now that we were both too busy growing up to realize we were growing apart. Slowly, starting whoever-knows-how-long-ago, we stopped being lovers and started being people who just loved each other. That might sound stupid, but it’s the best way to explain it. It was so gradual neither of us saw it happening, and by the time we realized how far we’d drifted from each other we were (figuratively and literally) hundreds of miles away. It was somehow an equally anti-climactic and tragic ending.

Even though we mutually and amicably decided to end our marriage, it’s still been a roller coaster of emotions, even for someone who’s alarmingly vacant in the feelings department. Loss, anger, betrayal, inconvenience, relief… all have come and gone in various forms and in a wide range of severity. But the hardest part has been finding a balance between appreciating the 10 years of memories and wanting to erase everything and start over. I suspect I’ll battle with that for a long time, and that a lot of things will forever remain bittersweet.

The move to Oregon afforded a clean break and a fresh start, and for that I’m really grateful. Going through a breakup without bumping into mutual friends, having to avoid old haunts, or worrying what’s spreading through the gossip mill makes this process infinitely easier. Most people here don’t know this past chapter from my story, and they don’t have to if I don’t want them to.

It’s been six months since Brian left. I’m very clearly still working through some things, including learning how to live a life that’s solely mine.

I’m really excited to see what that turns out to be.


“You can’t change the fruit without changing the root.” – Stephen R. Covey

A lot has changed around here. Actually, “a lot” might be an understatement. Some I’ve wanted to share, some I haven’t, and somewhere in that limbo I decided on complete radio silence here. Despite that, I’ve actually opened up and been much more forthcoming with my feelings in the last few months, both to myself and others. It’s been a scarily vulnerable, but massively worthwhile process for someone who’s either bottled everything up or had the security of planning, proofreading, editing, and delivering my thoughts through the safety of a computer screen. Handing someone your rawest thoughts with your bare hands while they look you in the eyes is just a wee bit different than through their inbox.

But something I have always been comfortable sharing with the internet is running. (Also because talking for 15 minutes about a 40 minute trail run is a bit of a snoozer bar story.) Even the incredulous misadventures and embarrassing tales have found their unashamed way into the world through OUaL, and I’m ready to open that door again. For humor and connection, creative liberty and therapeutic keyboard banging. There are an insane amount of parallels in running and in life, and maybe you’ll find something between the lines that’s more meaningful to you than mile splits and trail poops.

I definitely have.

Saturday I ran my first 25k, a real life rough-and-tumble trail race. It was equal parts painfully incredible and incredibly painful, and I had the most fun I have in a long time with a number pinned to my shirt shorts. Working on a race recap now, promise not to make you wait too long.

(^ relative, in Sarah posting time)

Until then, hi, again. It’s good to be back.