Ah, 2011.

Last year I recounted the glory that was 2010. I’m doing the same this year, even though the latter quarter of this year can suck a fat one. YOU HEAR THAT, 2011? YOU ARE ROTTEN. GOOD RIDDANCE.

When I began going back through the year, I was convinced 2011 was SO VERY OBVIOUSLY the worst year in history, but gladly, I found that wasn’t the case. It was actually pretty awesome. I did some phenomenal shit, if I do say so myself. (Yes, I do say so myself). So while the year is ending on a sour note, I have hopes 2012 can only get better. And it will. Because if it doesn’t, I’m going straight-up HULKSMASH on the world.

So here we are. The top 10 significant moments in the life of yours truly in 2011:

10. Race pacer extraordinaire

Grabbed one of my best friends this spring, and rather than racing a half marathon, we led a pace team. I highly encourage you to try this, if you’re a runner. It’s a great way to get a new perspective on a race and use your abilities to help others, rather than just satisfy yourself. ALSO OMG WE HAD SO MUCH FUN. Because we’re awesome. Duh. I paced one other half marathon in 2011, and fully intend to do it again in 2012.

9. Ragnar Chicago

A relay race from Madison, Wis. to Chicago? OK, sure. 200 miles, 10 people, crowded vans, new friends, relationships, crankiness, no sleep, kick ass medal. Done and done. Have never done Ragnar? Do it. You can thank me later.

8. Dances with Dirt 

2011 was the year of Amazing Besties Races. The Dances with Dirt Marathon is very close to the top of that list. Five best friends, 26.2 miles through the bluffs of poison weeds of Devils Lake and a campfire of citronella candles. Hardest race I’ve ever run. CAN’T WAIT TO DO IT AGAIN IN 2012.

7. Chicago Lakefront 50K

In terms of temperature, this race was the exact OPPOSITE of Dances with Dirt, but this March race kicked off the year of amazing races with these people. I’ve never been so cold probably EVER. But it was my first 50K, and even though those were some pretty torturous miles along the Chicago lakefront, the experience goes down as one of the best I’ve ever had. It’s possible I’d cease to exist without these friends. Truth.

6. Online dating, never again

It’s no secret that my dating life has been, is, and will continue to be, full of bad luck. HOWEVER, mark my words, you’ll never see me online dating again. I didn’t want to poo-poo something I’d never tried, so I gave it the old college try this year, but Jesus Christ, no way. Never again. It was horrifying, degrading and awkward. So don’t worry about me, I’ll just sit here patiently and await Prince Charming, who hopefully doesn’t have tiny hands.

5. The Cleveland Experience

I hopped on a plane to visit one of my very bestest friends this year in Cleveland. Yes, I ran the marathon there, which is totally not the point of this post because it was, uh, terrrrrrible, but that happened, too. My visit is one of my favorite weekends of the year. Sara and her husband (and HAPPY BABY! as shown above) welcomed me into their home with open arms. It was such an enjoyable, relaxing, comforting and happy six days. I fully intend to go back once they welcome Baby No. 2 into their lives. BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY THE KID NEEDS TO MEET AUNT KRISTA.

4. 29 miles for my 29th birthday

It was on my 2011 Bucket List, so I did it. Over the course of the day on my 29th birthday, I ran 29 miles, concluding the day with a nighttime lake loop with my favorite Annie (shown above with our final mile sodas). Hands down one of the most fun birthdays I’ve had. I’ll be spending my 30th birthday in 2012 running a 50K with all my bests in the snowy woods. So. We’ll see if we can top 29.

3. Hey, I started a novel

I hopped aboard National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November to try and hammer out 50,000 words of a novel. I went into it with no plot outline, loose ideas, and a couple characters, and debuted the very rough draft of a prologue here on the old blog. By the end of November I’d only reached just more than 16,000 words, but that’s a hell of a lot more than I had previously — zero. I think I might make writing part of my overall goal in 2012. That story needs some work.

2. Doomsday

Ah, the day that started the decline. I lost my job of a year-and-a-half on Oct. 18, 2011. If you look back at my 2010 review, you’ll see how excited I was to have gotten the job in the first place. My how time flies. Two weeks later I got dumped. A month-and-a-half later I found myself in another hopeless love catastrophe. Unemployment has put a lot of things into perspective for me. It’s also made me really fucking sick of my couch.

1. 50 goddamn miles

Oh, the day that made this entire year worth it. Months of training, months of worry, hundreds of miles, threats from my mom, lots of ice baths — the North Face Endurance Challenge 50 Miler. The day that shall go down in infamy in my little life. Nothing to date has topped the joy of this day, and it’ll be hard to match any time soon. But I haven’t seen the last of 50-milers.

So, happy New Year, friends. May your 2012 bring double the awesome of your 2011. Out with the old, in with the new. Insert every other cliche imaginable. But, if you’re like me, when the clock strikes midnight on a new year, give 2011 a swift kick in the ass and smile at what’s to come.

Edited: December 30th, 2011

Adventures in spur of the moment geocaching.

As 2011 comes to a close, so does my 2011 Bucket List. Seeing as though I’m going on two-and-a-half months unemployed, and seeing how the majority of what’s left on my list requires disposable income I do not have, I don’t quite think I’m gonna make it. But thanks to Big Brother From Another Mother, Marty, I got to check off what will probably be my last item: geocaching.

Geocaching is what I find to be an incredibly random hobby, but kind of awesome. It’s described as a “real-world outdoor treasure hunting game,” and that about explains it. People leave “treasures” outdoors — in a tree, behind a bush, under a rock, anywhere, plot the coordinates on geocaching.com, then go exploring for other geocaches. The “geocache” is the hidden container. Inside the container can be anything, usually a trinket. As people find the geocaches, they swap trinkets, add their own trinket, or simply sign their name and date on the log, also inside the geocache. Then they put it all back where they found it.

That’s it.

Uh.

But! I was surprised how ridiculously excited I was to find my first geocache. I was at Kettle Moraine State Park running the trails with friends, and Marty offered to pull up his geocaching app on his phone so we could locate one nearby and explore. Sure enough, we were within 800 feet of a geocache. I grabbed his phone and went. I basically had to follow the compass on the phone. 500 feet… 300 feet… 100 feet… 70, 50, 15… When I was within 15 feet I just started searching. We were in the middle of the woods, in a bunch of brush and trees, but sure enough, hanging on a branch was a camouflage Nalgene bottle.

SCORE!

I screamed, obviously, because that’s what I do, then opened it up. It was full of trinkets — a mini Koosh Ball, a button, some other random goodies — and, of course, the log. I signed my name (“krittabug,” duh), the date, threw it all back in the bottle and put it back. Bam. Done.

And that, friends, is how it’s done. Geocaching: check!

Edited: December 28th, 2011

krittabug goes to the farm

So after realizing my only experience with farm life was Farmville on Facebook, Carrie invited me to her farm to learn the real thing. I’m proud to say not only did I learn, but I also milked a cow, rode in a tractor and got pooped on.

ALL IN A DAY’S WORK.

I’m not gonna lie, it was all kind of incredible. I got to Carrie’s farm shortly before 4 p.m. She asked I come later in the day so I’d have a chance to milk a cow, which was my life’s goal on that day. It’s beautiful out in the Lake Mills countryside, where her small farm sits. I met the pigs first. They were adorable. I pretended not to cringe when Carrie told me they’d be bacon soon.

Blink-blink.

That was the first moment I realized I’d never make it as a farmer. Rather than run the farm as a business, like farmers should, I’d treat it like an animal shelter and next thing you’d know I’d have 275 farm animals as pets because I wouldn’t want to give them up for food processing. (Don’t get me wrong, I love bacon. And steak. But… pigs are so cute! And COWS! Don’t get me started on cows.)

So I bid my farewell to the pigs, hoping they wouldn’t be on my next burger at AJ Bombers, and moved onto the chickens. I tell you what, chickens are gross. I’d gladly sacrifice the chickens on my farm. Who wants to cuddle with a chicken? I mean, really. But I do love the idea of waking up to the sound of roosters. Unless I had to do it every day, as Carrie does. So, again, I’m failing as a farmer.

Before I knew it I was being introduced to Penny the calf, and I swear to you people, the skies opened up and the angels sang in that moment. PENNY! IS SO CUTE! YOU GUYS! BABY COWS! Those eyelashes. And that face. And that nose. Carrie bought Penny for $30, and so help me God, no one should have EVER told me I could get a baby cow for $30 because next time I have $30 to spare my cats are going to be so pissed.

She was absolutely the sweetest thing. Carrie told me to hold my hand out and she’d suck on my finger, thinking she’d get something good out of there. She didn’t find anything good, of course, but I died of joy over and over. I was introduced to the whole gaggle of babies. I thought about crawling in the pen with them to snuggle, but didn’t want Carrie to think I was a freak. Next time, baby cows. Next time.

In other news, it absolutely blows my mind that calves THAT big come out of a cow. I thought humans had it hard in childbirth, but you guys, cows have it way worse. And when Carrie told me where she has to reach her very own hand to help yank those calves out, my inability to become a farmer was solidified. I just can’t do it, you guys. I can’t. I’m sorry. I may have stuck my hand in a cow’s stomach, but I draw the line at privates.

I met some very enormous pregnant cows before hopping on the tractor for a ride down the road to a family farm where I’d milk my first cow. Don’t tell them I said this, but pregnant cows are SIGINIFICANTLY less adorable than their mini counterparts. Shhh.

Watching Carrie interact with her cows was kind of precious. She knows them, the way you and I know our cats and dogs, their personalities and mannerisms. But they also know her. In my mind I could envision the difficulty I’d have recognizing all 250 of the cows I’d have on my pet farm.

I met two of the girls who were milking, they taught me to milk my first cow. Turns out it’s nothing like I imagined. I didn’t sit on a bucket and fill a pail with milk, milked by hand. I didn’t chew on straw. Left my overalls at home. There were MACHINES. They hooked little tubes to the little udders (teats?) and corralled the cows in and out like a well-oiled machine. Technology milks cows these days. It takes about four hours to milk all the cows on the farm, it has to be done twice a day, and once again I could never be a farmer.

As I took the machinery in my hand to attach it to the udder-teats, I got a fresh, warm pile of shit dumped on my hand. This came after I used my hands to squirt a stream of milk from each udder before beginning the process. I blushed. I did. Sometimes I can’t help it if I behave like a 12-year-old. Teats are just… too much. Too much.

Before the adventure ended, I made friends with a few barn cats and a farm dog, rode the tractor one more time, learned about a company dubbed “Dead Stock” (use your imagination) and was partially undressed by a horse named Pony.

It was magical. Thanks so much to Carrie, who invited me into her world with enthusiasm, and taught me to appreciate much more an industry that was once so foreign to me. Now, if she really loved me, she’d give me Penny for Christmas. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Keep on keeping on, farmers.

Edited: December 23rd, 2011

Christmastime truths

Despite the lack of snow and general Christmas weather, Christmas is in four days. This is, by far, my favorite time of year (more so if there was said snow on the ground, but alas). The unfortunate irony is that while it’s my absolute favorite holiday and season, I find Christmas to also be overwhelmingly sad.

I love Christmas trees, Christmas lights, Christmas carols, the general joy in the air, the bell ringers, the smell of pine trees, the spirit of giving, the Christmas cookies, but it’s a terribly sad time to be alone. A terribly sad time to be unemployed. A terribly sad time to be terribly sad.

Sometimes, specifically days like today when I wanted to curl up and feel bad for myself (and did with much success), I miss Christmases past. Spending Christmas vacation at home with my parents. Decorating the tree, listening to Kenny G’s Christmas album. Sleeping in my sister’s room on Christmas Eve, waiting impatiently for Santa to show up. So simple, yet always so much pleasure came out of it.

I know the season is not about gifts, but it’s hard to go home for Christmas and have hardly a thing to give to my family, who’s done everything and more for me this year. And every year. It’s hard to sit in my apartment and stare at my tree by myself. It’s hard to be rejected from my job, and jobs I’ve never been given the chance to have, and from people I cared about, all in the last two months, and still feel jolly.

This year had a dozen ups and just as many downs. I would like it to be over, please. I will embrace 2012 with open arms. My thirtieth year. But first I need to get my head out of  my ass and stop pitying my way through my favorite holiday season.

Edited: December 21st, 2011

Winter! We’ve all lost our minds!

Woke up to my first significant snowfall of the year this morning. Actually, I woke up to tweets about snow.

“OMG IT SNOWED!”

“SNOW!”

“I SEE SNOW!”

“CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!”

“CHRISTMAS IS SAVED!”

And those were just my tweets…

But really. I woke up, looked out the window, and THIS:

So pretty! It’s snow! It’s like I’ve never seen it before in my entire life! WHERE IS THE REST OF IT, I WANT MORE? Seriously, it’s amazing what one snowfall can do to a society. Sure, there were a smattering of grumbles and groans from people who hate ponies and magic and miracles (and snow, apparently), but it was as if the rest of the world let out a breath they’d been holding since Thanksgiving, just waiting for winter to come. Because for those first few days, sometimes weeks, winter is full of wonder. The snow is pretty, the kids come out to play, we can snowshoe, we can run on the snow-covered sidewalks, Christmas can happen. Lord knows there can be no Christmas in Wisconsin without snow. It just hasn’t felt like the holiday season for the last couple of weeks without snow. It adds a certain ambiance that Christmas lights and Christmas trees and Christmas presents and Santa Claus and Christmas carols and Christmas cookies and everything else on the planet doesn’t. IT’S SNOW.

So this morning everyone was happy. Shouts of glee. Smiles. Excitement. Christmas cheer. I even got to run on the trails in the snow this morning and, I’m telling you, it was at least 50 percent because of it.

We’re all still ignoring reality. Because, in reality, this snow will be gone by Monday, there will likely be no more by Christmas, and in one month, maybe two, the last thing we’re going to want is another goddamn snowfalL, OMG I’m so over winter, fuck.

Put that on repeat until May.

Enjoy today, Wisconsin. Sit inside, look at how pretty things look with a light cover of snow. And come April, when we all want to die, we’ll remember fondly how we enjoyed it once. That one day. In December.

Edited: December 17th, 2011