“I don’t care what you think of me.
In three weeks I’ll never see you again anyways.”
-me, as spoken to my future wife within 15 minutes of meeting her for the first time ever
I’ve been wrong twice in my life. Saying that I would never see her again was one of those times. She was (and still is) smart and sexy enough to make me want to leave the promised land (aka: Canada) to be with her, and 10+ years later we now live in
Colorado, Kansas City, the Dallas, TX area.
Which brings me to the second time I’ve been wrong. We lived in the middle of nowhere East Texas for awhile shortly after we were married. Let’s just say that it wasn’t one of the finer periods of our married life together. My wife and I both swore that we would never, ever live in Texas again. But here we are again.
I wasn’t an athletic person growing up (translation: I was fat). I was at one of my lowest weights ever when I met my wife, but that changed within the first few months of wedded bliss. The pounds started to pile on, and considering I’m only 5’8″ tall, my frame isn’t designed to carry that much extra weight. Full of health problems and low on self-esteem, I took to running in 2008. It took me a couple of weeks before I could run one mile without stopping. From there, things snowballed. My first race, about seven months later, was a half-marathon (1:48:17). Then I went on to win a hilly 10k (44:15 – it was a small field of runners!). And a little more than a year after I started running, I completed my first marathon (3:34:32). In 2011, I crossed the finish line of my first 100-mile ultramarathon.
In late 2011, I was offered a great job with a very respected company in Dallas, TX, and we decided it was worth the move to Texas. So here I am, a Canadian, ultramarathoning, bike-commuting, vegan living in Texas. I don’t fit any of the Texan stereotypes, but we own a home here and I do have a Texas drivers license. That officially makes me Texan, eh?