Chris Wristen

What began as a simple suggestion – or a dare, perhaps? – from Shelley Flones in late 2011 drastically altered my plans for 2012 and made for a truly memorable year.

The repercussions of that suggestion will carry into 2013, as well. That’s a mighty good thing.

Flashback to October 2011 when I was pondering making 2012 the year I’d run my first marathon. I was contemplating signing up for the Leadville Marathon since, you know, what better race to do for a first marathon than arguably the hardest trail marathon in the United States with mountains and a climb above 13,000 feet? I love being in the mountains, though, so I figured if I’d be on my feet that long I might as well do it in the mountains

“Why don’t you just run the 50?” Shelley proposed.

Umm … well … hmm …

So when registration opened in November, I signed up for the Leadville Silver Rush 50-Mile Trail Run. In order to figure out what I’d be starting out with as far as training was concerned, I toed the starting line of my first marathon two weeks later at the Pilgrim Pacer. It was an utter disaster thanks to the stomach flu, but I finished and headed into 2012 with high hopes.

The 2012 season opened with my first ultra marathon in February with Winter Psycho at Wyandotte County Lake Park. Despite temperatures ranging from 7 to 19 degrees, it went fantastic and I finished in 6:22. Then, in April I ran the Rockin’ K Trail Marathon at Kanopolis State Park and finished, but had a train wreck of a performance thanks to a string of self-inflicted mistakes that began the second the race started. I went out way too fast, didn’t hydrate during the first five miles – or eat anything – and the wheels started coming off around mile 5.

All of those mistakes at Rockin’ K were lessons learned that paid major dividends at Leadville. After spending a week adjusting to altitude while camping at Rocky Mountain National Park and visiting friends in Denver, my body was ready to run and my brain was acutely aware of the little details I needed to manage throughout the race.

Silver Rush went fantastic for 37.5 miles as I paced appropriately and managed my nutrition effectively while navigating the first three climbs above 12,000 feet. A left foot injury creeped up during those final miles and killed my pace, likely costing me a sub-11-hour finish. Otherwise, everything about the race exceeded my expectations, including finishing in less than 12 hours.

Shelley’s challenge proved to be doable after all. I finished the 50-miler.

The foot injury from Leadville lingered for a few months, and it sidelined me almost completely for September, before I was back running consistently. The final three months of the year included some of my hardest training ever as I re-established my mileage base and built my 2013 race calendar. I ran 19 1/4 miles and took a 25K finish at Dogwood Canyon when the foot flared up, and then finished the 50K at Dude, Where’s the Trail? in November. The final three months of the year all were 100-plus-mile training months. The 148 in November marked my third-biggest mileage month ever, with the 150 in December trailing only my 182-mile June.

So, to recap, the original plan for 2012 was for it to be the year of my first marathon. Instead, it became my introduction to ultras as I finished my first 50K, my first 50-miler, and my second 50K while logging 1,251 running miles for the year.

With three ultras in the books, and a great deal of enjoyment coming from the entire process of training for and running those distances, ultra marathons will play a major role in my 2013 running plans.

I’m headed to West Texas in January for the Big Bend Ultra Run 50K at Big Bend National Park. March will feature a trip to Mountain View, Arkansas, for 3 Days of Syllamo (50K/50M/2OK). From there, the schedule remains in flux but likely will include a return trip to Dogwood Canyon and definitely will include another running of Dude, Where’s the Trail?

There will be more to come soon about the 2013 schedule, but there’s no doubt the groundwork for next year has been paved by a truly remarkable 2012. And for that, I sincerely thank Shelley for her 50-mile suggestion that challenged me to push my limits this year.

I’ve known for a few months how my 2013 race calendar will kick off, and it’s an event I’m incredibly excited about for a number of reasons.

The Big Bend Ultra Run, a 50K at Big Bend National Park in West Texas, will provide a fast course in a gorgeous setting. As long as I don’t spend too much time stopping to take pictures I expect to set a big PR. The race weekend is built around a friend’s birthday weekend road trip as well, so numerous elements should combine to make Big Bend a great way to start the year with a bang.

But what about the rest of the year?

The 2012 season saw me finish my first ultra marathon, as well as two more. I did some things well with my training and racing, and I also failed badly in some areas. A lot of lessons were learned. I’ve gotten stronger, more experienced, and – hopefully – a little bit smarter.

A year of growth as a runner has me entering 2013 more excited than ever to run, but also feeling a bit ambitious. My race schedule remains tentative other than the first two events, but it’s developing into a slate that I expect to challenge me mentally and physically, teach me numerous lessons, humble me, make me stronger, produce a new distance PR, and take me to some of the most beautiful places in the country.

There are more races I’m considering, and I’m sure a few local races will be added in periodically, but here’s what I’m zeroing in on at the moment:

Jan. 20 – Big Bend Ultra Run; 50K; Big Bend National Park, Texas

March 15, 16, 17 – 3 Days of Syllamo (Day 1 – 50K; Day 2 – 50M; Day 3 – 20K); Mountain View, Arkansas

June 1 – The North Face Endurance Challenge; 50-mile or 50K; Washington, D.C.

July 27 – Speedgoat 50K; Snowbird Ski Resort, Utah

Aug. 17-18 – Leadville Trail 100 – PACING for Sherrie Klover

Sept. 28 – UROC 100K; Breckenridge to Vail, Colo.

Nov. 24 – Dude, Where’s the Trail?; 50K; Kansas City, Mo.

Big Bend, 3 Days, and Dude are definitely happening, as is pacing at Leadville as long as Sherrie gets in.

TNF in D.C. also is looking considerably more likely. Travel should be affordable, transportation is easy, and I have a place to stay.

Speedgoat and UROC are truly tempting me. Both courses are beautiful, both are mountain races, and both will test me as much – if not more – than Silver Rush did this year. I’m also pondering the Meet Your Maker 50-Miler on Sept. 1 in Whistler, B.C., although that might have to find a place on my 2014 calendar.

Time will tell how the final schedule shakes out, but I welcome your feedback. Have you done any of these races? What did you think of them? Training tips? Let me know what you think.

A few friends have posted this video, and each time I’ve watched it it has made my heart race and my mind wander.

Watch, be inspired, and go do something awesome.

<p><a href=”http://vimeo.com/54348266″>Into The Mind – Official Teaser</a> from <a href=”http://vimeo.com/sherpascinema”>Sherpas Cinema</a> on <a href=”http://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

The 2012 Ozark Trail 100 was my third 100-mile race serving as race photographer, pairing it alongside the 2011 and 2012 Hawk Hundred races in Lawrence, Kansas.

It was a fantastic event in Steelville, Missouri. Course records fell at the fourth-annual event, with Pierre Deragne of Lyon, France, setting a new course record on the 103.1-mile course and Katie DeSplinter of Los Angeles, California, setting a new women’s course record.

In addition to providing race photos, as well as submitting an article to UltraRunning Magazine (it will be published in the Jan./Feb. 2013 issue), I also made my second attempt at putting together a race video from the event. It’s finally done.

Edited photos from the race can be viewed at this link.

Unedited photos from the race can be viewed at this link.

Finally, about 13 minutes of video are ready to be viewed. I’ve embedded the clips below, first with a pre-race video that I hope captures a bit of the early nervous tension, and then a race video that features plenty of sounds of leaves crunching under feet during the first minute. Both videos are pretty raw quality, but I’m learning more each time I mess around with one of these. Almost the entire thing was shot with my GoPro, other than the start when I was running video on two cameras.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy them.

 

 

Lou Jolene puts his hands on his head and chuckles to himself.

“Oh dear,” Jolene says. “I must have left them out in the van.”

The “them” Jolene speaks of are the scissors he planned to use to cut bib numbers. Packet pick-up is under way for Jolene’s ultra marathon/adventure race known as “Dude, Where’s the Trail?” He sends a volunteer out to the parking lot to retrieve the scissors.

Jolene turns his attention back to checking in the first runner. He displays the course-markings and reiterates that there won’t be many of them, then hands out a map and directions before instructing the runner to grab a flashlight, emergency kit and T-shirt off of the next table.

“Oh, and you’ll need a bag. Now where did I put those?” Jolene says, looking around his booth in the back corner of the Blue Springs Fazoli’s restaurant before chuckling again. “Oh dear, I must have left them in the van.”

I signed up for this event four days earlier on a whim in order to run with Mindy Coolman who was back visiting from Florida. Already I can tell it’s going to be a good time.

WHERE’S THE TRAIL?

The sun is just starting the peek over the trees as we depart the marina parking lot at Lake Jacomo. We’re on the road, so we’re not lost – yet.

Despite the staggered starting times, our team – Mindy, Rick Troeh, Aaron Norman and I – pass all but a few early starters during the first mile and a half. We’re moving briskly, shuffling through ankle-deep leaves and hopping over logs (“Most were placed by Mother Nature and have no meaning,” Lou notes in the race instructions, “but the ones weighing several tons were placed by me to confuse you.”). We’ve been running for about 15 minutes when we realize we’ve already missed a turn and gone off-course.

Backtracking, we find our path forward entails plenty of bushwhacking. We slide down a rocky, rooty embankment, weave through trees in the valley below, and then scramble back up the other side. Mindy is in the lead, and soon spots a pink flag and a trail. We’re back on course. After a mile of single-track, we cross a road, run around the bison enclosure and dash back into the woods for another mile to the Sailboat Cove aid station.

While snacking there, Dan Lesh – visiting from Juneau, Alaska – joins up with us. Bushwhacking through the woods, the five of us return to the course – and get lost again two miles later. In search of an old cemetery landmark that contains an answer to one of the race’s quiz questions – we make a wrong turn, cut through the woods, hop a barbed-wire fence, run through a field, and hop more barbed-wire while completely circling the cemetery and missing it. Finally, we locate the cemetery, obtain our quiz answer, and head back into the woods for more bushwhacking.

FAST TIME AND LOST TRAIL

Lou’s instructions say most participants won’t be able to run through the bushwhacking sections, but our team proves otherwise. The slowest of the five, I push hard to keep up. The spirit of our group and the adrenaline rush of the adventure propels each of us. Frequent stabs from thorn trees and eye-level tree branches barely slow us down.

Lou’s mysterious “maze” section doesn’t fool us, and we cruise right through. It’s not long until the second of six sections is behind us.

The third section might be our fastest of the day. The mostly single-track section hugs Lake Blue Springs (the second of two lakes on the course) for about a mile and then weaves through the woods for a few miles. No bushwhacking here, we cruise easily to the aid station at the end of the leg where cookies, Gatorade and water await.

The break from bushwhacking doesn’t last long. Sections four and five are almost strictly off-trail scrounging. We shuffle down into a ravine and back up the other side, hustle through a campground and back into the woods – lots of woods – and stumble over leaf-covered rocks and branches for nearly 10 miles. A dead deer carcass, a rotting raccoon decorate our path, and more thorns do damage to clothes and skin before we re-emerge on the road and reach the final aid station before making the final push to the finish.

FINDING THE FINISH LINE

Our group sticks together for about two miles to the Audobon Center where we donate a dollar and obtain a quiz question answer.

From there, we split up. Mindy has a flight to catch, so she, Aaron and Dan bolt ahead while Rick and I – both hurting a bit – opt to take it easy for the final six miles. All that remains is some moew bushwhacking, a rope climb about 20 feet down the “fiscal cliff,” and a mixture of single-track and road.

Thirty-three miles, and 8 hours and 10 minutes after starting, Rick and I jog back into the parking lot where Lou greets us, a clanging cowbell in hand and the same giddy grin on his face that he wore the night before.

Lou doesn’t ask us if we had fun. He doesn’t have to. Our dirt and salt-coated faces, traces of blood, and smiles give away the answer. We lost the trail a few times, but we found it frequently enough to reach the finish line.

Chances are good we’ll find it again next year, too.

I’ve had maybe a half-dozen articles and quite a few photos published in UltraRunning Magazine during the past year, but I’ll admit I was most excited to see the issue featuring the 2012 Hawk Hundred.

Yes, even more excited than I was to see my race report and picture from the Leadville Silver Rush 50-Miler published.

Well, the November issue was in my mailbox tonight, and Larry Long was kind enough to scan the article and post it on Facebook. Here’s a copy of it. I was pleased with how the article turned out, as well as to see photos of my friends Sherrie and Zach published alongside it. Another photo of Kevin Brown – one of my favorite pics from the entire race – ran on another page.

A strained fascia in my left foot has kept me sidelined from running completely for the past three weeks – and for almost two full months since suffering the injury during the Silver Rush 50-miler at Leadville – but last weekend marked a return of sorts to trail racing.

I didn’t run at the Hawk Hundred’s 100-mile/50-mile/marathon event Sept. 8-9 at Clinton Lake State Park, but I was there from start to finish taking pictures and shooting video of the event, some volunteer duties as the board member in charge of social media for the Lawrence Trail Hawks.

I don’t shoot many races, and this one was almost too much for me to handle as we had about 140 runners registered for the three distances. My idea of making a video as well only added to the work load I created for myself.

While I was frustrated with not being able to run because of my darn foot, it was an inspiring weekend as I saw so many friends complete their first marathon, 50-miler or 100-miler, and they did it on a course that is deceptively difficult.

Here is the highlight video, as well as a sample of a few of my favorite photos from the weekend.

 

A shouted s-bomb rang out like a gunshot, and I bolted upright from my 10-minute nap just in time to see a deer dart in front of the car.

Mike swerved, narrowly missing the deer, and then jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right to avoid smashing into an exit sign. From there, everything was a blur as his Dodge Avenger spun out of control, fishtailing multiple times and sending our sodas and a box of donuts flying as we braced for impact or overturn.

Once moving at 90 miles per hour, the Avenger finally squealed to a stop facing backward halfway up the off-ramp. Nearly a minute passed as we sat frozen in our seats, catching our breaths and assessing the situation.

It was 2:30 a.m. on Sept. 13, 2000, just outside of Columbia, Mo. We weren’t dead — not yet, anyway. But both of us knew there was a good chance that would change a few hours later when we returned to Lawrence.

Tom Eblen was waiting for me, and Rick Musser was ready to wring Mike’s neck. We weren’t supposed to be here. We skipped their classes, and we had some explaining to do.

WHAT’S UP, KNIGHT?

On Sept. 10, Bobby Knight’s 29-year coaching career at Indiana University ended when he was fired in the wake of an altercation with a student a few days earlier after the student addressed the coach, “Hey, what’s up, Knight?” Already facing a zero-tolerance policy for previous behavior issues, Knight refused to step down after the incident. That’s when IU president Myles Brand relieved the three-time national championship coach of his duties.

Riots broke out on the Indiana campus in Bloomington that night as thousands of students marched in protest and burned Brand in effigy.

The next evening, Sept. 11, the IU student newspaper announced that it would play host to a public forum where Knight would speak publicly about the situation. It was about 10 p.m. when Mike and I — the men’s basketball beat writers for the University Daily Kansan — read about the public forum while working on stories in the Kansan newsroom.

“How awesome would it be to be there for it?” I said to Mike, only half-serious.

“You wanna go?” he shot back, a sly grin on his face.

Thirty minutes later, we were pulling onto I-70 in Mike’s Avenger. We told our sports editor where we were going. We also emailed our professors to tell them we’d be missing class. But we hadn’t asked for permission to go. This trip had better be awesome, we concluded, because we figured we’d be fired upon return for violating protocol.

We drove through a downpour for more than four hours before stopping at 3 a.m. in East St. Louis to grab a hotel room for a four-hour rest. We were back in the car by 8 a.m. on Sept. 12, wolfing down a box of donuts that accounted for all but one meal on the trip, and finishing the drive to Bloomington. Mike Davis was being introduced as the Hoosiers’ new coach that afternoon, and we wanted to report on it.

We pulled up to Assembly Hall 30 minutes before the press conference began, put on our button-down shirts and ties in the parking lot and made our way inside. The Media Relations staff gave us curious looks at the media check-in when we told them we were from the University Daily Kansan, but our official business cards got us through the door and into seats at center court for the press conference.

LEARNING UNDER PRESSURE

Davis’ press conference wasn’t memorable, and our conversations with players weren’t particularly insightful, as the IU athletics department staff clearly had coached the players on what to say and not to say.

Still, we dug deeper, talked to more people and searched for better angles, more informative quotes, something of substance.

We weren’t supposed to be here, but since we were we’d better get this right.

As the lead beat writer that semester, Mike took the news angle and delved into the serious reporting. Meanwhile, I sought column material and inspiration elsewhere.

It was announced that afternoon that Knight wouldn’t be speaking at the student newspaper forum until a day later. We couldn’t stay that long, but Knight was giving his first public statements that evening on ESPN during an interview with Jeremy Schaap.

I took an hour-long walk across the IU campus, soaking up the scene. The outrage, it seemed, had subsided from two nights prior. Plenty of symbolism remained in the form of signs hanging from fraternity and sorority houses voicing their support for the coach. The few students I saw looked somber. It was eerily quiet.

I concluded my walk in time to join members of the Indiana spirit squad in an Assembly Hall lounge to watch Knight’s interview with Schaap. There were tears on cheerleaders’ cheeks, and there was plenty of laughter in response to many of Knight’s answers.

Much like some Penn State fans today make excuses for former coach Joe Paterno in the wake of the Jerry Sandusky child abuse scandal because winning football games matters more than acknowledging the truth; or the way many Kansas fans excused Mark Mangino’s atrocious behavior because he led the Jayhawks to an Orange Bowl victory; many at Indiana felt the same way about Knight. His “Do as I say, not as I do” attitude was accepted because three championship banners hung from the rafters.

I tried to capture that sentiment in my column. I hope I did.

HOMEWARD BOUND

The sun had set by the time Mike and I filed our stories from Assembly Hall and hit the road for the journey back to Lawrence.

We never saw Bobby Knight in person, missing his appearance at the public forum by 24 hours, but beyond that we believed the trip had been a success. We’d worked under immense pressure and on minimal sleep, and produced some solid reporting and commentary.

We witnessed college basketball history as the man who eventually would become the winningest coach in Division I was finally held accountable for his behavior.

We spent a few precious hours trying to get to the heart of the biggest story in college basketball that year.

We learned so much on the trip in part because of our motivation to do our job as reporters to the very best of our abilities, and also because of budding egos that come naturally with being responsible for the prime sports beat at KU.

Now, we just needed to make it back to Lawrence and explain ourselves to our professors. I’d missed Tom Eblen’s Reporting II class. Tom was the general manager of the Kansan. When I emailed him to inform him of our little trip, I wrote, “I know you’ll want to talk to me when we get back, so I’ll come find you.”

Tom’s response was brief and to-the-point: “Yes, let’s talk.”

I was frightened.

Mike’s hide likely was in greater danger. He’d missed Rick Musser’s class, and we later learned that upon seeing that Mike was absent Rick stormed into Tom’s office and demanded to know why he’d approved our trip.

Tom’s response to Rick: “I didn’t.”

Uh-oh.

Mike and I knew we couldn’t afford to miss another day of classes, so we sped through the night to make the 500-mile drive home. Both of us were exhausted, so we took turns driving and sleeping. My shift ended just before we reached Columbia.

Moments later, we were nearly dead on an off-ramp a few blocks from the University of Missouri.

The deer that ran in front of the car didn’t kill us. Neither did anything else that night as we rolled back into Lawrence at about 5:30 a.m. as the sun was rising.

Fortunately, our professors didn’t kill us, either, and we didn’t get fired.

Rick threatened repeatedly to flunk Mike for the semester, but ended up passing him.

WHAT DID YOU LEARN?

As promised in my email, I went and knocked on Tom’s door first thing that morning. The conversation played out like this:

Tom: “Sit down, Chris.”

Tom: “Did you talk to the editors and ask for permission to go to Indiana?”

Me: “No.”

Tom: “Was it necessary for the Kansan to send reporters to Indiana?”

Me: “No.”

Tom: “If advertisers ask me why we used our money to send reporters to cover an event in Indiana that doesn’t involve KU, what am I supposed to tell them?”

Long silence…

Tom: “Did you learn anything while you were there?”

Me: “Well, yeah. I learned a ton.”

Tom: “Well, good then. That’s what’s important. Just make sure you ask for permission next time.”

CATCHING UP WITH COACH KNIGHT

As fate would have it, Mike and I finally got to report on Bobby Knight in person a year later when he was hired as the new head coach at Texas Tech. I was covering KU for the Topeka Capital-Journal, and Mike was working for a TV station.

I covered the visitor’s locker room when Texas Tech came to Lawrence for the first time with Knight at the helm. Meanwhile, Mike had another near-death experience when the coach bumped into Mike’s camera after shaking hands with then-KU coach Roy Williams prior to the game.

There was no altercation, just a fierce glare in Mike’s direction, but it chilled him to the core much like that September night a year earlier when we returned from our failed search for the legendary coach.

I asked my sister for permission to join the newspaper staff of the University Daily Kansan.

It was near the end of the Fall 1998 semester. She was a reporter, and I was an eager-eyed freshman who wanted to write but didn’t want to infringe on her space. Asking for permission, it seemed, was the right thing to do.

Liz knew writing was in my blood, though. When we were kids, we made a fake community newspaper at grandma’s house detailing the important activities of our stuffed animals, listing movie times we copied out of the real newspaper, and cutting and pasting comic strips. Later, she saw my work for the high school paper, and knew it was my passion. When I asked her if it was OK for me to sign up for the Kansan, she never hesitated.

“Stop by the newsroom, and I’ll introduce you to who you need to know,” she instructed.

A few days later, I pushed open the door to the newsroom in Stauffer-Flint Hall. Liz was sitting at the computer to the right, plucking away at a story. She hopped up, introduced me to the new sports editors, Erin Thompson and Marc Sheforgen, and handed me an application.

In the week that followed, I pondered which beat to apply for. Knowing I wouldn’t have a chance at spring football or baseball, I made up a position that wasn’t listed — women’s soccer spring season reporter — figuring if nobody else could apply for it then they couldn’t turn me down.

Sure enough, that became my beat, and I walked into the newsroom the week before the Spring 1999 semester began as a member of the staff.

Nine semesters (including two summers), a 7-0 record in Newsie-Addie softball games, more than 1,000 articles and a million happy memories later, I left the newsroom as one of the longest tenured staffers ever. So many life-changing moments arose during my four years in the newsroom: my first trip to New York City to cover the Coaches vs. Cancer Classic at Madison Square Garden; watching the horror of 9/11 unfold while sitting in the newsroom with my fellow reporters; Wilt dying; Roy staying; striking up friendships with student-athletes who remain friends today; and developing some of my best lifetime friendships, including one with Mike Rigg – another Spring 1999 freshman staffer who took the four-year Kansan journey with me.

There were a lot of pieces of the Kansan journey, from those early days as a freshman through when I walked out of the newsroom for the final time after the Spring 2002 semester, that I didn’t truly appreciate at the time, however. Many of those pieces I’ve gained greater appreciation for in the decade since, and they came into clearer focus on Sunday night at the first all-generation University Daily Kansan Reunion at the Granada Theater in Lawrence.

Quite a few members of the old sporto crew — Linney, Hughey, Melinda, Kaschube, Malashock and Prater — were there, as were some of the other long-timers like Hollar, Vaupel, Juan, Mindie, Cori, Clay, Fickett, Willis, Kursten and Borniger, as well as design guru Chris Dye and gifted photographers Matt Daugherty, Nick Krug and Jamie Roper. Advisors Tom Eblen, Malcolm Gibson and Ted Frederickson were there, too. That collection from my generation that attended served as a reminder that while I got to work with some truly incredible people on staff, the amount of talent we had in the college newsroom was staggering.

Collectively, we did some remarkably high-quality journalism for a room full of college kids just learning the craft. We also cranked out some crappy journalism (If you don’t believe me, then let me turn your attention to my lede for the racquetball national tournament article: “They came, they saw, they conquered. Well, not quite, but they tried hard.”), but everybody in that room had high expectations and challenged each other. We made each other better, and regularly did some of the most thorough and highest quality college journalism in the country.

Our annual haul of top finishes in the Hearst Awards offered proof from outside judges about the quality of our work. Bold and brash features like Prater’s “The Outhouse Skinny” running on homecoming weekend blended college spirit, quality reporting and fearlessness in the face of backlash. Our team effort in the handling of 9/11 proved we could do serious, but sensitive, reporting under the very worst of circumstances.

We also challenged each other’s ability to drink — and drink heavily, at times. The photo montage at the reunion offered extensive proof that such activity was not at all limited to my four years on staff.

While the Kansan reunion brought so many of those memories into focus, the greatest highlight for me was getting the opportunity to say “thank you” to Angie Kuhn, a senior during my first semester on staff as a freshman who offered me so much encouragement and support when I was just finding my way in the newsroom. She made such a positive impression that stayed with me throughout my 14-year career in journalism (college and professional), so it was special getting to say “thank you” 13 years after we last shared a newsroom.

It’s been a long time since I asked my sister for permission to join the staff at the University Daily Kansan. I’m forever indebted to her for saying “yes,” and I’m also indebted to all of those who came into my life in the four years that followed in the Kansan newsroom. It was a magical four-year adventure, where we did some damn good journalism and had an even better time.

This was a reunion that needed to happen. Major thanks to Jonathan Kealing, Brenna Hawley and Eric Jorgensen for their tremendous efforts to make it a reality.