Tonight, on the eve of my 16-day trip throughout Europe, it still hasn’t hit me that I’m about to embark on a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I’m excited and nervous, and looking forward to getting this party started, to quote Pink.

Tomorrow I’m heading to Europe to visit four countries: Switzerland, France, England and Scotland; and explore four major cities: Geneva, London, Edinburgh and Paris. I’ll be staying with some friends in the Geneva area and meeting up with another friend in London, before wrapping up the trip on my own in Edinburgh and Paris.

The weeks, and months, leading up to tonight have been a whirlwind of activity. From the half marathon training and changes at work to getting ready for my 30th birthday and an Indian wedding to pattern debating, I have been one busy girl. I’ve been so busy, and time has flown so quickly, I haven’t had much time to over plan my trip or over think the eight-hour overnight flight or having to switch airports in Paris. I look at this as a blessing.

I also haven’t fully investigated all that I want to do, so I am leaving a lot open to last-minute decision making. This is very unusual for me—I’m the one that makes all the plans. My Google Calendar is my bible. I’m a managing editor by trade, so I’m constantly organizing for myself, for the publication and other staff members. I make a lot of lists. I have to do lists for my to do lists. Leaving details of my trip to chance is an anomaly in my overplanned life.

And I have to say, I’m thrilled. I’m ecstatic to let go—of the plans and worries and organizing, even for just a little while.

The plans I had to make, such as accommodations and flights, have been hammered out for months. I have a sketched out idea of what I want to do on each leg of my trip, and I have a general idea of a timeline. I even identified yarn stores to hit up in each town. But while some of my itinerary has been solidly nailed down, there’s still a lot up in the air. What a thrill!

Maybe I’ll see the Louvre on a Thursday and watch the changing of the guard on a Sunday. Coffee along the Seine before taking a stroll through the Latin Quarter or spending a day in Swiss museums. My trip is what I make of it.

As John Denver would say, All my bags are packed I’m ready to go …

Well, my bags are packed. And I’m ready to go. I don’t think I’ve ever been as ready.

Admittedly, I’m a nervous traveler. I get worked up about the possibility of missing my flight or forgetting something. Well, I’ve never missed a flight (knock on wood) and forgetting something is generally fixable.

So this trip feels different. I feel different. I’m looking forward to traveling with this new me, and see where our trip takes us.

And of course there will be friends. Close, good friends that I’ve missed. I look forward to seeing them and living in their European lives for a little while.

There’s also the part of the trip where I’m venturing out on my own. Absolutely alone. For a moment this terrified me, but just a moment. I don’t know if it’s my nearly 30 years of age, or the fact that I’m in a different place now, but heading off for a week traveling by myself sounds amazing. I look forward to some exploration and quality alone time. And since I’ll be disconnected from my computer (eek!) and 24/7 smartphone/internet connectivity (double eek!), I will definitely be alone. My internet activity will be limited to free wifi connections and my very small smartphone screen and keyboard combo (triple eek and where’s the sedative!).

It’s definitely going to be an adventure.

I hope to blog from the road. And of course Tweet, if nothing else, there will be pictures.

Stay tuned.

Sunday I ran. I ran 13. 1 miles. I ran 13.1 miles for the first time in my life. I also ran in a historic half marathon that occurred on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. To say it was a special race is an understatement. I’m so proud of my accomplishment, of participating in this race and overcoming various health related issues to complete this race.

I woke with anticipation—at 3 am—the morning of the race. I attempted another hour or so of sleep before gathering myself and hailing a cab to Jackson Park—the epicenter of this year’s race. After arriving to a 10k with 10 minutes to spare, I wanted to arrive at this race with an hour’s time in order to prepare. I had plenty of time to check gear, stretch, eat a little yogurt and go to the bathroom. (I have the smallest bladder in the world.) Start time was promptly at 7 am.

The anticipation built as time inched closer and closer to 7. I was anxious to get started, having only time to think of all the other things I should have done to prepare. All the runners lined up in corrals—the assignment of which was based on your estimated finish time. I was shooting for a solid 2:15 to 2:30 (hours:minutes) finish time, landing me in Corral L.

This year, 20,000 runners traveled the half marathon route that took us north on Cornell, west on 57th Street over to Stoney Island Avenue, south to Marquette Drive, south on Jeffrey Avenue to 67th Street, east back to Marquette and north on Lake Shore Drive. At this point the route took us all the way up to 31st Street before looping back around and heading south again to the 63rd Avenue finish.

Overall, I felt pretty strong throughout the race. I maintained a pace average of 10:41 (minutes:seconds). My fastest split was 9:30 for mile 8; my slowest mile was mile 1 at 10:31. I expect a lot of the crowd that happens at the start of a race influenced my pace. My second longest mile was mile 10. I remember feeling a little fatigued as I waited for my energy gu to kick in.

There was a point in the race where the sun started to get hotter, my energy waned and I was feeling the distance. The race bibs had every runner’s name on it, and as I got closer to the finish line, more and more people gathered to cheer. One such cheerleader called out: “Way to go, Kate!” I’m not sure if I looked worn out or as if I needed encouragement, but it definitely helped drive me closer to the finish.

I knew my mom and a handful of close friends were waiting for me near the finish line. This fact helped me stay motivated to finish. I didn’t want to stop running in the last mile and disappoint them. As I passed the quarter-mile-remaining marker, I began scanning the crowd, but it was so packed and difficult to find anyone, not to mention the difficulty of seeing when you’re that exhausted.

Luckily I ran right near my mom who yelled out and extended her arm. My friend Charlotte grabbed this action shot. Looks like I may have run 13 miles or so, huh? Not the best picture ever, but you know, I was running.

The only major issue I had was really sore knees, which I’ve experienced before, but the pain started a lot sooner in the race than I expected. It was frustrating and discouraging, but I just kept my knee bands tight and pushed through. Still a few days later, they are sore. So I want to make a big effort in strengthening my leg muscles in anticipation of the Chicago Marathon next year.

I was grateful my mom and friends came out to support me. Here I am with my mom right after the race. She made a sign.

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Charlotte also came out. It was great to see her and have her there at this great event in my life. She’s been a part of my life since … well, forever. I can’t remember when she wasn’t. She’s like a second mom.

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Kym, Morgan and Melissa (not pictured) came to the finish line too, and held up signs. It was great they could make it.

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After the race, we all headed to Eleven City Diner for brunch, because let’s face it, I was starved. Sue met us there (far left). After freshening up a bit, we got a group shot with my sign.

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There haven’t been many races I have wanted to remember with various tokens, but for this race I have a plethora of symbols to remind me of this day. At the fitness expo (an event where you pick up your race packet), posters were handed out (top left). I am hoping to hang the poster somewhere in my apartment.

After completing the race, each runner received a medal (top right). I’ve received a medal before (probably from a 5k) but it seemed cheesy at the time. This one holds significance.

With each race I’ve completed since the spring of 2010 (after I started to heal my back and could run without pain), I have kept all of my race bibs; this race is no exception (bottom left). One day I might string them together to create a bib flag.

But most importantly, I love my sign (bottom right). Everyone who came to the race signed it and wrote messages of love and support. Honestly, without the support of family and friends, pushing myself athletically (or otherwise) would be a lot harder. I appreciate all of them for remaining compassionate and supportive with all of my endeavors (whether it’s running or something else).

I can’t wait to start my training for the Chicago Marathon 2012; and I know these people, among others, will help motivate me to meet my goal.

Overall, the race experience was a great one and I’m so proud to have completed it. Here’s to more running, more miles and more goal meeting.

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• Perform a kind deed to at least 5 strangers without expecting anything in return.
• Record an album.
• Form a band.
• Participate in a flash mob.
• Go completely gluten free.
• Complete half marathon.
• Fly a plane. (Take a flight lesson.)
• Publish a knitting pattern.
• Swim across a lake.
• Learn another language.
• Go to a nude beach.
• Take a road trip on part of Route 66.
• See how far you can walk. (Just start walking, and have someone you can call to come get you whenever/where ever you’re done.)
• Pose for “boudoir” photos.
• Go to a concert at an amazing venue like Red Rocks or The Gorge.
• Go to one amazing expensive meal, like at Alinea.
• Do a Segway tour.
• Do a chocolate tour.
• Fold a 1,000 cranes.
• Buy yourself an exciting new sex toy.
• Send a fan letter to a celebrity you like and/or respect.
• Visit a Buddhist temple.
• Learn a magic trick.
• Buy a drink for an attractive stranger.
• Change your hair color.

You can track my 30 at 30 progress throughout the year.

That sense of resolute determination has helped me so many times in the past. It’s a deep sense of purpose that makes me feel grounded and right where I need to be. At other times, when I can’t reach this inner sense of peace, I end up feeling very out of control and lost. It’s both a blessing and curse in that sense, because after a period of wandering, when I get back to the resolution, I feel absolutely whole again. At least for a little while anyway.

Turning 30 is treated so much as a milestone, but for me it feels very much like the next chapter. In one sense, yes, I’m just going to be another year older and hey, that’s just fine by me. In another way, 30 represents a form of excitement: I’m looking forward to this next decade. The 20s were fun: college, flirtations, moving out of my mom’s house, getting a job, getting another job, figuring out what I want in life, navigating how to get those things in life. Now I’m ready for the 30s. This is not to say that I’m not still navigating, figuring, getting, flirting, moving, funning. But I hope with the passage into one decade from another, there will be new experiences that have thus far alluded me.

In celebration of this milestone (there’s that word again), I have decided to celebrate my 30th birthday in epic style by doing some pretty epic things. And because I’m turning 30, I’m shooting to do 30 things. The symbolism of numbers is amazing. Some of these on this bucket list, if you will, have long been goals of mine, and some are new found. The only deadline is that I’d like to complete them all before I turn 31. I’m giving myself about a year to accomplish it all. As I usually do, I’ll be blogging about my accomplishments. So here’s the list.

The 30 at 30 list.

1. Create a collaborative music playlist from 1981.
2. Complete a marathon.
3. Get a tattoo of “Ten Blessings” in Japanese.
4. Go on a European adventure.*
5. Perform on stage with a band for a song.
6. Participate in L.A.T.E. Ride.
7. Sky dive.
8. Visit the Sears Tower Skydeck.
9. Visit Turkey Run and hike the canyons.
10. Go to 30 gigs.
11. Raise $3,000 for charity.
12. Learn something new.
13. Unplug from all electronics for a full 30 hours.
14. Knit something commemorative.
15. Participate in Project 365—starting with my 30th birthday.
16. Write a song to be proud of.
17. Try Bikram yoga.
18. Take up a daily meditation practice.
19. Save $3,000.
20. Be Cat Woman (the Michelle Pfieffer version) for Halloween.
21. Visit the Eiffel Tower at night.*
22. Go on a road trip.
23. Send myself flowers.
24. Learn to live in the now.
25. Visit Frank Lloyd Wright Museum.
26. Write myself a love letter.
27. Volunteer.
28. Learn how to bake gluten free.
29. Give up my car for 30 days.
30. Throw a 30th birthday party, of course.

*Due to timing, this will not be done at the actual age of 30.

Track my progress: 30 at 30.

Have you ever had a moment where the truth hits you like a speeding train with such clarity that of course, nothing else makes sense. It’s like in the movies when the foreshadowing ties the plot together perfectly, and you often wonder how you didn’t see it coming. Sometimes you trick yourself into thinking you did see it coming.

Well, last night was like that. You see, my phone was stolen on my commute home.

The hysteria that ensued after figuring this out was short lived. There was little I could do, as the bus (and sticky-fingered culprit) were long gone. My biggest concern was my personal information on my phone and my cell phone account.

So after a small tantrum and a plethora of distasteful phrases, I pulled myself together enough to get over to my cell phone provider to fix the issue. Of course, they were able to turn off the SIM card, rendering the phone at least unserviceable. I was reassured by the guy behind the counter that, since I had set my phone with a security pin, my information should be relatively safe. Still, I will be doing the long and painful process of changing all of my passwords. ALL of them. (Silver lining moment: At least I’ll finally have a reason to follow Gina Trapani’s safe password tips.)

However little could be done about my phone itself. Being in the middle of a recent phone contract made me illegible for any upgrades. So to regain sanity, control over my technology destiny and a working phone, I had to replace my beloved G2 at cost. Ugh. The pocketbook felt that zing.

So lessons learned. A good deal of them. Like don’t leave your phone in a side backpack, you daft idiot. Be aware of your surroundings. Even more. Backup your phone. Even though I’m not modding anymore, having to reset everything up is annoying to say the least. Technology dependency is a blessing and a curse. I love that my information easily syncs but not being able to get at it drives me crazy. I should really work on this dependency.

I’m trying to look at this situation with a positive slant. I’m not ready to take the bus to the train yet, so I’ll be adding another 20 minutes of walking a day. That’s healthy.

I’m changing all of my passwords. That’s added security. So that’s a good thing.

My phone now will reside in my front pocket, and I’ll avoid taking it out on public transit altogether. Already I didn’t like having it in my front pocket, but it’s a small price to pay.

Although in the end, I hope this is the end of the lessons, and I can live happily ever after with my (new) G2.