Holy smokes! We're getting married!

Katelyn and I had our first date arranged the old fashioned way: a blind date orchestrated by a trustworthy mediator. The encounter was drawn up with detail and precision by the hand of our good pal, Brennan Lowes (good on ya, Brennan!). We were to meet for a mid-week drink at Labrewatory - a nano-brewery driven by scientific and experimental ideals. We attempted to join in on the pub's American-centric trivia night, shared laughs, and Katelyn was impressed with my ability to understand at least some of what a physiologist might do at Nike - enough so that we decided we could give it another go around the next week! Two dates turned to four and she still hadn't tired of me. Around this time, some coworkers and I were readying for a climb of Mt. St. Helens which seemed like the perfect opportunity for a great milestone in our budding relationship. I extended the invite, which Katelyn accepted under just one condition - we'd have to leave town a bit later than planned because she’d need time for her 12-mile training run beforehand. She completed both the run and summitting without trouble. And I’m sure this isn’t too surprising for those of you who know anything about her aerobic endeavors, but it certainly got my attention. As I steered us South towards Portland, I remember the weight of this moment impressing its mark on me: the long, demanding hours of scrambling the mountainside behind us, replaced by peace and tranquility as Katelyn slept in the passenger seat, Al Green humming smoothly over the speakers. It sure felt like this small but mighty Northener was going to be by my side for many adventures to come.