Holy shit, you guys. Holy shit. I’m a motherfucking marathoner.

I never–but NEVER–would have done as well as I did if not for this woman here. No exaggeration. There is no one else on this planet I would have wanted to cross that finish line with.

Now everything hurts and I kind of want to die and we have to drive back to Bloomington, but I am happy. So happy and damn proud.

I have to play MAD CATCH-UP when I get back to school, so it might be awhile before a proper recap (let’s see if I even remember anything…it’s all a blur).

And tumblr, well…my feels about you deserve more than a few tossed-off sentences. Tbc.


I have no idea if I will be able to be on tumblr a lot tonight (in-laws coming!) so please, before I can’t…

Good luck to everyone running a marathon tomorrow. Go in it with all your heart and a smile on your face and you will do great - NO MATTER WHAT.

  • Chris, go kill it, dude! 
  • Carolyn, Liz, you got this! Big hugs to both of you.
  • Sharon, enjoy every second. I’m cheering you on all the way in Texas!
  • Jason, you know you will be on my mind tomorrow. Go crush it.
  • And a special shout out to Mallory running her half marathon today. I bet you’re out there rocking that thing right now.

And Kari, yell extra loud and give extra love and hugs to everyone for me. I mean it. 

Go runners go go go! We’re all behind you!


You’re right, lizcorre. I shouldn’t be the one made to feel uncomfortable in my normal places when he was the one being inappropriate. I think it’s honestly one of the reasons I was so angry yesterday. I knew how fucked up it was that I felt that uncomfortable, but couldn’t help it and it spilled out as anger.

I haven’t ruled out the possibility of going to the gym staff if it continues.

Chicago Marathon 2013: Recappin', y'all

Or, at least as much as my fuzzy brain will allow. I’m mad at how much of this race was a blur of of pain and indistinct moments. I kept telling myself, “Self, pay attention. Remember this. This is your marathon!” but it was like my brain was just incapable of focusing on anything but the pain. Stupid brain.

Keep reading

All right, nerds. Finally time to spill. But before I do, can we all notice what a hipster douche I am with those cans around my neck? I started taking baby steps towards Dissertation Land today. I really can’t emphasize enough how baby they were, but they were steps nonetheless. Pat myself on the fucking back for that. And at least they’re not shitting Beats by Dre. Also: jazz hands.

So, news: Michael and I are moving back to South Carolina. He got a non-tenure track lecturer position at our alma mater (the position I actually held before I moved to Indiana), and they offered me some work too. It’s not enough to offer me an actual position, but that’s a-okay with me—I milked that experience for all it was worth, and now it’s Michael’s turn. It’s not a CV boost for me any more, so I’m happy to chill and play a supporting role.

So, my feels:

Happy Feels:

  • Yay employment! Yay professional development! Yay being in a far, far better financial situation with Michael’s job alone than the two of us combined would have had next year in Bloomington.
  • Yay not having to teach shitty grad music history review at 8am!
  • Yay being enough of a free agent to have more time to work on dissertation things!
  • Yay Greenville and Furman! I really do love them both.
  • Yay being paid to play piano a lot more!
  • Yay potentially being able to live in a (mostly) free place! (‘tails to follow only if this pans out)

Sad Feels:

  • Moving back to the Southeast. Yep, I lived there most of my life but I have no aspirations to settle there. I hate the weather. I hate living in the Bible belt.
  • Potentially living not in Greenville, but Greer. Related to my last Happy Feel. We’ll see what happens.
  • Packing/moving. jfc it’s the fucking worst. And now trying to finagle it with a blind cat? Kill me.
  • Leaving my department. Yes, this has been A Year and yes, I don’t know if musicology is where I need to be, but goddammit I met a lot of great people here, friends and professors. Trying to work on a dissertation without this community is going to be a nightmare.
  • Leaving lizcorre. I actually can’t even. I knew we’d part ways eventually, but I didn’t think it was happening this year, so I’ve been blindsided. If my body could produce tears I know I would be in for some serious ugly crying when we leave.

So, stay tuned as this blog becomes a hotbed of moving nerves and neuroses as we prepare for a late July departure.

…any tumblrs in the Greenville area? I’m leaving a bunch of good ones…

So, it occurred to me earlier that, minus some selfie and drunkblr action, I’ve been remiss in blogging lately. So here’s an unflattering picture of my legs.

The fact of the matter is that I have been supremely, epically, 100% boring lately. I work out six days a week, and have thought about posting those, but workout posts with zero content put zzzzs in my eyes, so I didn’t want to put them in yours.

But beyond that, I’ve been a blob. And I’m okay with that for now. I read, watch Netflix, sleep late, drink coffee, and eat things. And sometimes I drink other things and a leeeeettle too much of them. Like the other night after the premiere, when I came home and drunk ate ALL of the cashews in our house. ALL of them. All of Michael’s regular cashews, all of my raw cashews. Just. There was no stopping me. All down my gullet with alarming speed. My drunchies are a force to be reckoned with, and I woke up with a wicked bellyache. I regretted everything.

And in other news, I hinted that things might have been happening in the C-McC household, and it turns out that they are, but the news has not been approved for social media consumption yet. So, I will continue being annoyingly cryptic. It’s Big News and I’m having All Sorts of Feels about it…happy, crushed, nervous, excited, anxious, feelings-eaty. 

And now I wait for friends to arrive, to usher lizcorre into the realm of the initiates: tonight is her first viewing of Mean Girls.


I took the one on the left. Liz took the much better one on the right because I am a monster who’s inept at selfies.

That time Liz and I schlepped to Nashville, IN to meet Becky for a Reindeer Romp. And when I thought she hadn’t made it but saw her at the start and screamed “BECKY!” during the National Anthem and caught serious shade. And when we ran the slowest 8k ever because no one thought to salt the roads for a race (…). And when we braved the streets of downtown Nashville, rife with passive aggressive Hoosiers, shaking with cold as we arrived at the Muddy Boots Cafe to warm our bodies and sup. And when my heart was so full.

Mill Race Half Marathon: A Recaplet

I wonder if I have it in me anymore to write long recaps for races whose distances I’ve done before. I hate to say that–after now five half marathons–I’ve become blasé, but I certainly don’t feel compelled to write MEGA RECAPS with all my feels. I will definitely do this for Chicago. I will still also put this behind a cut because knowing me I will inevitably ramble on more than I plan to.

tl;dr version: you should run this race, and apparently the best way to train for a half is to train for a full; coulda PR’d but didn’t

Keep reading

Thursday Three


Between moving, unpacking, traveling to NY, and trying to get everything sorted out with our jobs, I’ve been a big, squidgy ball of stress and bad eating habits. And obviously how I look and feel has had a tremendous impact on my mood (read: permagrump). But since we’ve been back from NY I’ve eaten much more mindfully, though let’s be honest: that shit is hard. And it will always be hard (for me). But it’s time. And because it’s hot as fuck all the time and my neighborhood is nothing but hills and no sidewalks, I walked to the nearby Anytime Fitness to get a 7-day trial and see if it was worth it to pay to have a gym nearby when I get access for free through my job (answer: it’s not). I ran three easy miles. It is something.


Currently making my way through this gallon-sized bowl of watermelon. Considering fashioning a makeshift feedbag to strap to my face. SO GOOD. But seriously. That is the yield of half of the damn melon. A watermelon has a whole lotta watermelon in it, y'all.


This person got married and it was amazing and she was SO BEAUTIFUL and there was way too much food and drink but so much laughter, dancing, and love. How do we not live in the same city anymore? I still can’t process it.

Y'all. The arc trainer with its resistance and height jacked up in a humid gym is no fucking joke.

And the gym is not neeeeeeeearly as easy to force yourself to go to when your bestie’s not around.

Doing my best not to eat like a shithead during the week since we’re heading to Atlanta for my cousin’s wedding reception. So far, so good.

This has been a post.


Allie tagged me, and I do what she says. 6 pictures in which you feel beautiful.

1. After biting the head off my participant rose in front of throngs of horrified women at the Indy Womens Half Marathon. Being a badass athlete and feminist makes me feel powerful and beautiful.

2. A moment of 100% unadulterated happiness after visiting Anne in NYC last fall. 

3. Pittsburgh, a beautiful Americano, and a beautiful me.

4. Unexpected picture taken in Ostiglia, Italy after we were booted from the library because of more aftershocks.

5. Again with the happiness. Taken by my sister at the Schweizerhaus in the Prater in Vienna. I love the lighting, the colors, my hair, my smile.

6. This one never had a chance of not making the list. I am KILLING IT in this photo–the dress, the bling, the hair, the makeup. Classy and sassy as fuck.

And since I was so tumblr absent for so long, I don’t know everyone who’s done this, so if you have, don’t kill me! runningwithguts, lizcorre, thisfearlesslife.

Awkward, blurry gym selfies also not as fun without lizcorre. At least I didn’t catch anyone changing.

Some deadlifts (just in time to bang up my shins before I throw on a dress tomorrow), some arms, some abs, 30 mins on the arc trainer.

Tomorrow we’re Atlanta- (or more accurately, Decatur-) bound for my cousin’s wedding reception, where I am going to eat and drink ERRYTHING.

Six miles without agenda, some walked, most run. Six miles back on our storied B-line Trail. Six final miles that we’ll run together, at least for the foreseeable future. And tonight we’ll further celebrate with glorious food, drink, and other great friends.

Six miles with one of the people dearest to me on this goddamn planet.

Hoosier Half Maraton Training, W10D4: Last run!

1 mile warm-up, 2 miles tempo, 1 mile cool-down.

You know what I’m still not used to? Hills and 20 mph head winds. You know what else I’m not used to? The humidity that made its inglorious return today. This Saturday’s half will be an exercise in goddamn lulz, so I’m just going to relax and try to have fun. There will be no PRs, trust. It’s nice to be able to chill out about a race and not worry too much about performance, something I certainly haven’t done with my previous half marathons. Guess this distance is becoming old hat? Dafuq?

Tonight = beer and Mario Bros. with Liz. *praise hands emoji*

How do tumblr

Am back from an epic voyage, by car, to Long Island for wedding shenanigans with Liz. A whirlwind of friends, meeting loved ones’ family members, meeting a loved one’s BEBE, time in my favorite city, and so. much. food. SO MUCH.

Left yesterday at 9am. Rolled into Bloomington just after 1am. brb, dying, then hopefully catching up on work and a coherent return to social media.