It’s official: I have a defense date scheduled for August 10 at 11 am. MARK YOUR CALENDARS, FRIENDS! Also hit me up for that Zoom link. The buildup to this has been pretty stressful, so I am ecstatic that is worked out and I get to leave.
Before August 10, I have to write a thesis — specifically, I turn it in July 6! The average PhD thesis is around 75,000 words. The task is pretty daunting, but I have a strategy to tackle it. Basically, I will write about 15,000 words of introduction, about the same for a discussion, and my two papers will go in between. Older graduate students in my program have called the strategy, “the sandwich method.”
After I write and defend, my next step is a move to Research Triangle Park, North Carolina. My partner has accepted a job at the Environmental Protection Agency, which is AWESOME and I am so freakin’ proud. On my end, I aspire (dream) to become a science journalist that covers environmental health news and toxicology. I have accepted that I might not be able to get there right out of the gate, so I have been casting a wide net with my job applications and career search. I have applied for science communication multimedia fellowships and toxicology consulting and risk assessment positions. Additionally, this week I am meeting with some mentors to *gulp* inquire about post-docs. Ideally the post docs would be at the National Toxicology Program or NIEHS, and have an obvious public-health focus and maybe even value science communication and outreach. Does such a specific post-doc exist?! I have no idea. Hopefully time (and the right contacts) will tell.
At work, my main responsibilities have shifted from laboratory work, writing, and extracurricular activities to mainly writing all day, every day. Honestly, thank GOODNESS because 1) I love to write/edit and 2) I have gotten to the point in my PhD where I want to bang my head against the black Masonite benchtop every other day. Apparently, that level of frustration is a good indication that a student is ready to leave.
Another indication is a publication record.
I published my first first-author manuscript in Toxicology last fall, which is the unwritten base-requirement (in addition to completing coursework and maintaining good academic standing) to graduate from my program. However, my advisor wanted a second first-author publication from me before he would let me go.
At first, I was basically like “heck no this is dumb and I am tired” but in slightly more articulate and professional language, of course. Eventually (and begrudgingly), I acquiesced. While I’m proud of myself for doing it, I must credit a supportive committee member who gave me the tough love I needed to “just write the damn paper and get out.” In a three week span, I pivoted from an obstinate stance against writing the paper at all, to having the first draft completed and sent to my advisor.
That draft has been sitting in his inbox for over a week now, but it’s not productive to dwell…
Anyway, I’m really proud of myself for setting my mind to something and just doing it, even though I very much did not want to. I’m leaving out a lot of details, such as panic attacks and angsty walks to work. In any case, please trust me when I say that my experience with the second paper is pretty emblematic of the grind of a PhD: it can be mentally grueling.
Now would be an opportune time to say something along the lines of, “if it was any other way, everyone would do it.” Approximately 2% of the U.S. population has a PhD, according to Inside Higher Ed. Sure, a small fraction of people in general complete the PhD. Here’s a thought: what if we made it less mentally grueling?! Surely more people would have a PhD. Why is that such a bad thing? I digress. This is definitely a topic for a future post.
Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to joining a tiny nerd-guild of Toxicologists in the very near future.
The challenges that face PhD students in science programs are frequent and often seem insurmountable. When faced with obstacles, is it better to just quit? Spoiler alert — NO! Its not!
Approximately a quarter of graduate students in science or engineering PhD programs in the U.S. will quit within 3 years of matriculation, according to data gathered by the Council of Graduate Schools. Moreover, of the estimated 24,165 graduate students in U.S. natural science doctoral programs, 6,041 will not defend their thesis to earn a PhD.
There are numerous reasons why quitting may be appropriate or inappropriate. Ultimately, the decision to throw in the towel (or not) is extremely personal.
Anecdotally, I have heard that the main reasons for quitting a PhD in the natural sciences include losing interest in the research, wishing to pursue a different passion, and feeling disheartened by academia.These are all totally understandable reasons, and I have felt them too.
There are other struggles, too. Personally, I sometimes think my experimental design is such a mess that my research is not going to help the world in a meaningful way. Every now and then, I consider the possibility that I am only in a PhD program by some fortuitous combination of personal fraud and admissions committee error. Additionally, I often worry that my future career will not require my high level of education. These feelings have certainly been exacerbated by the mental toll of the ongoing COVID19 pandemic, but they had existed before March 2020.
Nevertheless, I won’t quit, and I argue against quitting a PhD in general.
The pandemic will be over, eventually. In the meantime, there is no shame in struggling during these uniquely stressful times, or ever, actually. Change is really hard, and it’s OK to struggle. Pandemic aside, the process of a PhD involves constant changes: moving to a new city, rotating in different laboratories, joining a lab and moving to a new office, forming relationships with your committee members, working through summers, and a revolving door of lab members, to name a few.
While we (usually) can’t control the changes, we can control how we respond to the changes. My thoughts of quitting partially stem from my responses to change: being supportive versus resistant of the changes experienced in academia influence my mood/outlook, which in turn influence how often the thought of quitting occurs.
I’m usually in a pretty good mood and want to keep on keeping on, but I have periods of doubt that basically correspond to whenever there is a change. Indeed, I’ve felt the urge to call my advisor and hang up my lab-coat many times over the past few months, but I will not. The doubt will pass. I will defend my thesis sometime in the next two years.
Overcoming this whole mess, and emerging with a PhD is essential for me, and other candidates. Although the degree represents the contribution of new knowledge to the world about a (very specific) problem, the educational process is the most meaningful part. A PhD is an endurance event — basically a marathon. The finish is great, but the race itself is where you learn and grow against a backdrop of constant change.
Sticking it out and holding steady through the “race” is tough. However, like endorphins for a runner, the benefits of a PhD journey increase as you go on. During my PhD so far, I have become educated in much more than Toxicology. I’ve learned how to be kind yet constructive, that PI’s are just people, and that my to-do list is never too long for a run (and other means of self-care!). I want to continue to learn more while I can, so I will stick around. But not too long!
The decision to leave or stay is personal, and I realize I have certain privileges (I don’t have children, I have more free time, etc…) that enable me to make this decision more easily. Nevertheless, should “the benefits of the process” not be a sufficient reason for you to stay, I offer some others:
You worked too hard to get here to quit now.
The effort you have previously put in will amount to a degree that opens doors to subsequent opportunities
You may inspire others to pursue a PhD
By struggling, you have gained experience that you may share with mentees you can guide and help
You CAN do it — anything worth doing is difficult — If it were easy, everyone would have a PhD!
Indeed, 2% of the United States population has a PhD., according to US Census Bureau data from 2019.
Although I urge you to stay rather than quit, spending time in a PhD program means you learned something about yourself, and made an informed decision.
“At the center of your being, you have the answer; you know who you are, and you know what you want.” – Lao-Tzu (604 – 531 BC)
Have you thought about quitting? What are your thoughts on the process of getting a PhD? What made it worthwhile for you?
I feel like I’m generally able to roll with the obscurities and absurdities that plague academia. Average of 21 years from PhD to full-professor status in Toxicology? Fine, I won’t think about it. Lack of eye-care in my student health-insurance package? No problem; my outdated prescription doesn’t mean I’m blind (yet)! Non-employee student status that prevents me from saving for retirement (or unionizing)? Probably unfair, but it’s not productive to dwell.
However, one thing I cannot brush off is the confusion that surrounds acronyms in academia. We use acronyms, abbreviations, and initialisms to communicate faster; unfortunately, this does not necessarily mean that their use helps us communicate better. My main qualm is that I think that having so many acronyms in science makes it confusing to convey meaning across disciplinesbecause acronyms can be mis-used to impede communication.
My favorite example of this is “MHC.” If you’re talking among biologists or schmoozing the histology core staff, MHC is understood as, “myosin heavy chain.” However, if you’re an immunologist or medical professional – your first thought might be “major histocompatibility complex.” And if you’re checking your student health insurance coverage, you may want to make sure your “mental health counselor” is still free due to COVID.
I’m pretty stuck on student health insurance issues lately… can you tell?
A recent eLife meta-analysis of the growth of acronyms in science found that acronym use is going up and acronym re-use is going down. It also suggested that journals which have policies that prohibit acronym use in the title do not enforce that rule.
Introducing new acronyms so often while not using existing ones creates an alphabet-soup of terms in literature repositories (e.g. PubMed) that scientists and interested readers have to sift through. Furthermore, it is unlikely that one can completely evade this by limiting a search to titles. I want to clarify that I’m not against the use of acronyms; I oppose their misuse/abuse. The aforementioned level of acronym mis-use bugs the crap out of me.
Devil’s advocate: Given a fluent reader of the same language and discipline, acronyms certainly help scientists and writers rapidly convert print to meaning by reducing wordiness. The abstract in my most recent publication had a total of 25 acronyms or abbreviations; I would be WAY over the allotted word-count without their assistance.
Acronyms also help us wrangle long, unruly, and sometimes overly-quirky gene names. As someone who studies Drosophila, I’m familiar with (and partial to) an ensemble of whimsical gene names. They are more often referred to by their more digestible abbreviations: Multiple edematous wings (mew), kon-tiki (kon), son of sevenless (sos), held out wings (how), to name a few. Interestingly, some researchers have recently changed the names of genes in order to avoid issues when reading data sets in Microsoft Excel. The most obvious conclusion is that they should have been using Drosophila for their research…
I’m also partial to charismatic acronyms that I come across outside of the Drosophila community, which I want to share:
McSELFIE: McGill Self-Efficacy of Learners for Inquiry Engagement
GANDALF: Genetic variation and Altered Leucocyte Function
BEAVER: Biodeasel Exhaust, Acute Vascular and Endothelial Responses
Although acronym misuse bugs me, I acknowledge it’s a moot point; researchers usually need to convey their point in print in as few characters as possible.
Nevertheless, scientists around the world need to be able to effectively communicate across disciplines to solve some of the greatest problems we face such as climate change, pollution, food insecurity, and infectious disease (#covid19). If we’re really in favor of increased efficiency, we should focus on improving interdisciplinary collaborations by communicating better, not faster.
Here are some propositions for how to communicate better:
1) Maintain consistent acronym use in a given field. Example: if an acronym exists in your field, resist the urge to create a new one. I suspect this is often done for the sake of personal branding.
2) Define the acronym once in each part of a manuscript: abstract, intro, result, discussion AND figure legends. It will require dedicated space in that precious word count, sure.
3) During oral presentations, speak the full phrase at least twice before using the acronym.
4) During oral presentations, refrain from using acronyms that have the same number of syllables as the phrase (e.g. “SC” for “stem cell” both have two, and it bothers me when I hear this acronym. However, “HUCAPS” for “Harvard Ultra-fine Concentrated Ambient Particle System” makes much sense).
5) Hire someone to communicate science. In academia, we wear SO many hats (teacher, researcher, mentor, writer, speaker, graphic designer, etc). Be comfortable seeking professional help with the one that makes your science accessible to the rest of humanity.
“You can’t take over the world without a good acronym.”
As any true academic, I procrastinated something important until the last minute. Someday, This will refer to grants I write or bigger deadlines I must meet, but for this post, it regards a poster competition.
I entered a virtual poster competition that offers CASH prizes for first ($500) and second($250). This is uncharacteristic for a University- sponsored award; the unrestricted money grants me the freedom to spend money on anything I want… probably something very important like rent, food, utility bills, or 1-2 dozen slap-chops.
The stipulations for the award are as follows: 1) The student had a conference cancelled due to COVID19, 2) The poster can be submitted via PDF and 3) the student presents the poster in a .mp4 recording. It seemed easy enough. I figured that it would take a half-hour of my time – tops. Which was good – because I (thought that I) had two hours until it was due.
However – it took me about twice that length. It’s surprisingly nerve-wracking to record yourself giving an academic presentation. It took a few tries to get it right! Below is a blooper from the first of 7 total trials:
While it’s unfortunate that I didn’t get to travel to California to present my research this year at the Society of Toxicology annual meeting, it’s even more unfortunate that I haven’t yet mastered Zoom recordings…🤷🏻♀️
I hope you took note of the aforementioned qualifier phrase, “thought that I had.” I was wrong about the May 22 deadline (when I began this post); the presentation and associated files are actually due today! However, I’m glad I finished it then, because today, I was too busy for a last-minute submission scurry. This afternoon, I headed downtown for a few hours of protest, in support the BLM movement with my Rochester community. 🖤✊
Which ostensibly points out…maybe procrastination isn’t a good M.O. to have…
Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this post & thank you for reading! Wish me luck with the ACTUAL submission! 🙂😂🤷🏻♀️
I think this to myself as stare down at my soggy glop of a sour-dough starter. The pleasant aroma of my boyfriend’s starter is very different than the acrid odor of mine. Apparently, you’re supposed to taste the dough to assess it’s fermentation progress, but I’m hesitant to do so. Two sensory experiences are sufficient thank you very much! I think something is wrong with mine…The wild yeast have possibly been out-competed by the ambient bacteria, so I have some lactic acid fermentation going on rather than ethanol.
How did this fate befall my poor starter? Well, in short, I didn’t follow the recipe. Oops.
The America’s Test Kitchen recipe we (are supposed to) follow recommends a 1:1 mixture of whole wheat:bakers flour. I grabbed pizza dough flour instead, and declined to make any sort of mixture. It’s only been 48 hours, and Pizza-Starter is not doing so hot. Friends of ours have said I should name it Swamp-Ass. I think I’ll go with S.A.
Luckily, I have ten more days of “feeding,” S.A, which will allow me to titrate in some of the correct flour each new day. I didn’t want to start over, so I aligned myself with SA and will press on!
My decision to press on with this bread-making endeavor is reminiscent of what I’ve been doing as a graduate student during these strange quarantined times.
Because of COVID19, researchers like me are unable to head back to lab. Consequentially, I cannot repeat an experiment to include more animals (flies!), or set up a small pilot study satisfy a missing element of a current project. I am strapped to any past and current experimental results: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
It’s really important for researchers be transparent with the fact that not all experiments pan out exactly as we wish. During normal times, we have the resources (time, access to lab, etc.) to start again, but now a lot of us must advance what we currently have.
The style of my lab is to do many pilot experiments and “see what sticks.” This is possible because we’re a pretty simple fly lab. My experiments can range in length from 1 week to 1 month after I begin an exposure. This creates an environment where I can test multiple hypotheses to satisfy my curiosity of many avenues. However, the freedom to do so comes at the expense of focus sometimes. Since joining, I have matured a lot by learning to focus.
I’ve also learned to make the most of the tools we have in lab. Our “bread and butter” is something called the Gal4/UAS system, which allows us to restrict experimental manipulations to cell or tissue types of interest. I’ll spare you the details, but basically this is a very useful genetic tool. Although there are many ways one could study muscle development, I basically restrict colors to muscles I’m interested in, observe their growth, and see how a chemical exposure (methylmercury) influences the growth.
The alien-looking creatures below are images of my flies during development. Their heads are facing up. From left to right, they were exposed to increasing amounts of methylmercury, which caused defects during development of their flight muscles, which are glowing bright red.
This is a relatively simplistic approach, compared to the strategies other labs employ for similar studies. I don’t let the comparison bother me; instead, I consider how it highlights the creativity of my lab. I’ve grown to really appreciate how far a little creativity can go in research. It’s helped me make progress on my thesis project.
For my most recent committee meeting (which was yesterday!), I presented the progress I’ve made toward my thesis project.
I was super worried about this meeting, but it ended up going well. The committee was pleased with my progress, so I don’t have to meet again until next year- Huzzah! I wonder if this will be an in-person meeting rather than via Zoom?
Oh yeah- that reminds me. I want to briefly talk about my Zoom-based committee meeting, which was a unique experience. Well, technically every committee meeting I have had is unique, because my first one ever was last year, my second included the qualifying exam… but I digress…)
Thoughts on Zoom-based Committee Meetings:
-No need to prepare snacks and coffee
-No need to schedule a room
-More efficient – we were done in about 75 minutes. I scheduled 3 hours.
-Screen-share feature on Zoom ensures everyone can make out the data and slides.
-Hard to gage body language. For some committee members, this is very telling.
-More potential for technical difficulties (because now it’s not just you wielding a computer screen, it’s everyone!)
It’d be a lost opportunity to not mention how the theme of this post also applies to running. If my meandering, admittedly digressive flow has caused you to forget what it is, I’m sorry! It’s “making the most of it.” 🙂
In running, there seems to be more opportunity for us to compare ourselves to others than to reflect on how well we’re currently doing. I realized that I facilitate this too, by posting pictures of my runs on my PhDistance Insta account. My intent by posting in general is to provide a window into my life as a runner and graduate student. I want to convey that whatever I’m doing, I’m trying my best.
I like to to reflect on how my runs have progressively felt better, been quicker, or lasted longer over time. In one of the posts, I point out that the pace and distance of my runs differ by day and are very dependent on how my body feels.
My favorite elite runners include Alexi Pappas, Des Linden, and Abby D’Agostino because I like to see them perform on the track or course. But I especially love to follow them because I think they try their best to be good people. I really value Alexi’s insouciant worldview, Des’ grit, and Abby’s compassion. They inspire me to try my best to emulate their character.
From bread-making to running and beyond, it’s important to do your best. I will continue to press on with my sour dough (which today smells like banana rum!?), thesis work, and athletic endeavors. I enjoy posting about these (mis)adventures because it gives me a chance to create something humorous and fun from it. My hope is that making the best of what I’ve got can translate into an enjoyable read for you all 🙂
Exactly a week ago, I returned to Rochester after “America’s Marathon Weekend” in Atlanta. I met up with my friend Bri (plus her college teammates, Bree and Gronke) to spectate the Olympic trials marathon, then run the Publix Atlanta Marathon/Half-marathon the next day. The trials were impressive, inspiring, and an all around solid experience.
Since we had our own race the next day, we wanted to at least try to stay off of our feet while spectating the Trials race. For those less acquainted- to spectate a distance running race is to chase your athlete around the course on foot in order to see them a lot. We sought out a viewing spot that minimized time running/walking around the course (i.e. streets of ATL) but also maximized our view of the athletes. We settled on a corner where we cheered on the athletes on as they passed at miles 2,10, 18 one way and 5, 13, and 21 the other way.
Their course was challenging: while facing a net 1,000 feet of elevation gain (but a net downhill of 17 feet due to the proximity start and finish lines) athletes faced rolling hills as well as multiple loops. At the end of the day, the top three women were Aliphine Tuliamuk, Molly Seidel, and Sally Kipyego – all underdogs. Aliphine wasn’t seeded in the top three and Molly had never run a marathon before this. In the last two years, Sally had a child, became a U.S. citizen, and dealt with a bout of malaria. Woof. These STRONG ladies will represent the United States at the 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo, Japan. (Unfortunately, I worry whether this year’s Games will have a different atmosphere, given the COVID19 epidemic. The WHO has yet to call it a pandemic as of the first publication of this post).
Although we tried to stay off our feet on Saturday, we ended up covering over 12 miles. Moving so much was probably unavoidable, since we all flew in Friday night and had to get our racing bibs from the Expo on Saturday afternoon, ran a ~4 mile shakeout to scope out the starting line area, and went to the grocery store twice. Nevertheless, we tried; at one point we Lyfted 0.4 miles to avoid a sizeable uphill effort. Kind of embarrassing, but hey!
The pre-race dinner: We cooked our own meals at the Air B&B and just chilled the night before the race. I cooked Tim’s brussels sprouts recipe everyone, and was v proud that I didn’t burn them or anything. Bri made Linguini and alfredo sauce with chicken for herself, Bree, and Gronke, while I made my own special pasta and red sauce (#Veg).
After dinner, we stretched and talked, and set up our racing outfits for the next day. I learned from Gronke I’m supposed to call my outfit setup “Flat Ashley.”
Race-day! Below I tried to outline the progression of the day; first, by time up to the start of the race, then by mile since I kind of lost track of time for the ~3 hour race.
5:30-7am: Woke up, Bri made everyone coffee (#angel), and I ate breakfast (granola, banana, and almond milk). I drank a lot of water too – which I ended up kind of regretting during the race. More on that later…
6:15am: We all jogged our warmup to the starting line, less than a mile away. Bree and Gronke were running the half, but the half and full marathon start together for this event.
6:45am: Bree started her half-marathon
7am: Gronke starts her half, Bri and I start our full marathons. Side note- Bri was actually supposed to start at 6:45am too (her PR is 3:14! #damn), but she decided to stay back to start with me (my previous PR was 3:18) ❤
7am-10:10am: Runnin’- finished at 3:10-28, which is an average min/mile pace of 7:16.
Recap of select/noteworthy miles:
Mile 1-4: This is so much fun! These hills aint no THANG.
Mile 5: Bri and I accept and share a solo cup of beer from spectators offering along the course. If you’re not having fun, you’re doing it wrong.
Mile 5-10: cruisin’ with Bri and this girl Leanne we befriended.
Mile 11: lost Bri and Leanne, circle back and get Bri.
Mile 12: lose Bri again but keep going this time. I was clicking off consistent 7:18’s (minute/mile pace) and felt like I could keep that up.
Mile 14: Porta potty stop! Remember when I said I drank too much water? Yeah, I was about to pee myself at mile 14, so I stopped for exactly 35 secs #speedypee
Mile 15: Phwew. So relieved, still feeling good. Hills are kind of hard now.
Mile 16: Wow 10 more to go. Lots of hills. Woof. *Miley Cyrus “The Climb” echoes in my mind*
Mile 17-21: Caught up with runners from the first corral (these athletes had a faster entry time). I try hold the pace I’ve been going. I’m passing a lot of people, but it’s hard to keep my pace because the flow of runners is a lot slower at the back of the first corral group than at the lead of the second corral. I picked up a Clif- energy shot packet at mile 17, which I kept in my sock. I know what you’re thinking: “What does she mean, kept in her sock?!” Here is a photo of me mid race, which may help clear that up:
Mile 23: Start to feel like I could hit a wall, so I swallow more Clif energy shot that I’ve kept in my sock-glove. Pause to stretch my calf then keep going. The middle-aged guy I am running with at this point praises me for “adhering to the precautionary principle.” Thanks, dude.
Mile 24-26: I am very ready for this to be over.
Mile 26: SO. CLOSE.
Mile 26.2: Heck yes- done!!
Mile 27: Wahlburger for a well-deserved (vegan patty) burger and margaritas with the girls!
All in all, I felt great during this race. I felt like I was well hydrated, in shape, and so happy to just be out there racing. This is my first marathon back from injury, and I was grateful to just be able to run and be healthy. The course was fairly hilly, but they were rolling. Whenever there’s an uphill, there’s a downhill, eh?! It got pretty hard at mile 23, because there was a sizeable uphill effort and my legs were getting tired. Other than that, I felt strong on this course and ended up with a big PR from the race. I ran 3:10:28, which qualifies me for Boston 2021 and gives me an auto-qualification for NYC marathon in 2021 as well.
How did I prepare for this marathon? I kept it very simple. I ran, stretched, ate well and slept well. In a sense, this training cycle was a bit of an experiment in that I didn’t do workouts and didn’t lift or do anything I didn’t consider enjoyable. I maintained a fairly consistent long-run schedule with Jacquie, which made me look forward to each long run. I especially looked forward to the end of each long run because we go to Timmy Hoes for Ice Capps. My other running buddies in Rochester (s/o to Laura and Erin) helped me rise early to get runs in before work, or motivated me to get the run in after work. I like to think of my runs as just hanging out. TBH, I feel like I have better conversations while running. I’m committed to making running my stress relief as close to 100% fun as I can. I keep pretty busy, which is stressful, so I like to keep running relatively carefree.
Nevertheless, I do keep track of my miles I log. My “system” for keeping short-term track of my runs is to record weekly mileage on the whiteboard in my apartment. Serendipitously, I had been taking photos of each month for a scrapbook I’m planning. So, I actually had a way to retrospectively calculate my mileage, which is below:
Taper and qual exam noted with red arrows.
Long runs too:
Half marathon was Winter-Warrior (see other post). Peak long run was 22 miles. Race day was March 1st.
This training cycle was all about having fun, staying healthy, and listening to my body. One thing to glean from the graphs is the oscillatory profile over time. It reflects low-mileage weeks when I felt tired or was busy, while high-mileage weeks represent times I was able to run longer because I had less on my plate.
I’ve yet to pick a Fall/winter Marathon, but I feel good and want to shoot for one. @Followers, I am taking requests! 😊
Shout out to ATL track club for taking many of these photos!
“I run because it always takes me where I want to go.” – Dean Kamazes
Hi! My name is Ash, and I’m a PhD candidate in Toxicology and a marathon runner. I also love to write, and recently discovered that there’s a solid market for science writers with a PhD! I now regularly daydream of being a science journalist that covers Toxicology and Environmental Issues.
But that’s the future. Here is the past:
I was a distance running athlete in college for SUNY Geneseo, a small liberal arts college in Upstate New York. My favorite races were the 3k and 5k- I never attempted a 10k. I made a big leap to try my first half-marathon after graduating from college. I loved it, and found myself considering a marathon a few days later.
At that time, I was also considering laboratories to rotate in and housing options near the University of Rochester, where I would begin my PhD in toxicology.
Toxicology is an interdisciplinary field that incorporates concepts from biochemistry, environmental science, and psychology. I get to throw in developmental biology and entomology too because of my thesis work: I use a fruit fly model to learn about methylmercury toxicity during muscle development.
When I’m not in lab, I’m literally running around Rochester. The weather can be pretty wild here, given the city’s proximity to the Great Lakes, but it’s usually fun to be out there!
…and other times, it’s not:
Since coming to Rochester, I have run 4 marathons, and 3 half marathons (see the Races tab). There have been injuries, personal records, highs and lows along the way, and I’m grateful for it all.
Running keeps me sane, provides a “reset” when I feel spun from work, and has led to wonderful friendships. It also gives me those infamous post-run endorphin spikes.
There are plenty of adventures as I navigate the streets and trails of Rochester, as well as academia. This blog is a space to record my adventures as I chase after my athletic and academic goals.
Subscribe (email) and follow this blog to keep up as I run towards my goals and away from my problems!