One Month Anniversary

by Olivia Mickle from Pickle on the Run

Today marks the one-month anniversary of life in Portland.  It has already been an adventure, filled with trail runs along Wildwood, crock-pot dinner masterpieces with the roommate, and some prime time hours at a local French restaurant.

On the running front, I have spent these past weeks running tempos on trails, VO2 max on grass, and even got to put on the blazing red BTC uniform for a local 5k cross country race!  It was a thrill and a first for many things: hay bales, moguls, BTC teammates, and the VooDoo donut food truck.  I look forward to more of the latter two than I do of the former two. 
This past June, when I asked Lindsey if I could move in with her, I don’t think either of us knew exactly what our roommate situation would look like.  I think I can speak for both of us when I say it has been magical.  There is something special about living with someone who shares a similar schedule, lifestyle, and love for chocolate.  We get to carpool to workouts, foam roll in our couch-less living room, and try new “recipes” (sometimes, just throwing in whatever sounds good; e.g. Quinoa? Yes. Avocado? Yes. Fried egg? Double yes).  We quickly established a support system, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have her as my roommate, teammate, and friend.


Although “pursuing the dream” often sounds glamorous, sometimes, there are places where there is a little less “glam” and a little more “grunt.” Life as a newbie elite athlete rarely comes with the hearty paycheck, the complimentary massages, and the comped travel fees.  Thus, I have recently started working at a local French restaurant while I continue to work toward securing a job at another company.  Yes, when I walk in each day I am greeted with the sweet smell of freshly baked croissants and feel as though I have just entered the streets of Paris.  Yet, once I put on my apron, I’m moving and grooving, clearing tables, setting tables, and washing bar mats. I sometimes have questioned whether it’s worth the hours on my feet and the ketchup splashed on my pants, but this is the road I have decided to take.  These little hiccups and not so picturesque bits are part of the journey.  They remind me that I am chasing the dream and I am willing to make some sacrifices in order to achieve such.  I couldn’t be happier.