My name is Krista.

Not to be confused with Kristin, Crystal, Kristina or Kris. No, it's not short for anything. 

It's Krista.

Sound it out.

You can call me Krittabug. Everyone else does.

I'm a Wisconsin girl in my soul, but I took a flying leap and landed in Bend, Oregon for a brief detour during my 34th year. Just as quickly as I left Wisconsin, I returned home for love. I'm once again in Wisconsin, but my soul is divided. Did I just make Oregon a horcrux? Sorry 'bout that.

I'll give you the CliffsNotes version of me, which, let's be honest, is all you're really looking for.

I'm a runner. I've run the Boston Marathon. I've hobbled 165 miles between Utah and Colorado. I've run short, I've run far, I've run broken, I've run slow, I've run fast, I've run for food, I've run with beer, I've run alone, I've run with friends, I've run. 

I'm anxious. I've got insecurities that keep me awake at night. None of them are valid. I can also be filed under: misophonia, cat lady, Instagram hog, introvert, pizza - in no particular order. My loving boyfriend can attest to each and every one of those. I should apologize to him. Do you think he reads this?

I'm a writer by nature, a journalist by education, and have a career in public relations. I also appreciate unicorns, Sour Patch Kids, and bad television. 

I've had this blog since November of 2005. If you read it like a book from my very first post to now, I'd be impressed, but don't recommend it.

My name is Krista. Welcome.

Fourth of July, 2012