By Kristin Canning ’14

THE NIGHT BEFORE MY FIRST DAY OF WORK AT SELF MAGAZINE, I slept on an air mattress in a closet. I set four alarms on my phone, worried that I wouldn’t wake up in time to navigate the subways from my friend’s tiny Brooklyn apartment to my office at One World Trade Center in Manhattan. I stayed up late scouring Craigslist for apartments; I had two weeks to find a place to live—I’d couch surf until then.

I had packed my suitcase full of sensible (yet what I thought were fashionable) clothes that wouldn’t wrinkle too much. I stocked up on Lunchables since I had nowhere to keep or prepare food, which made me feel like I was 12.

I’ve come a long way since my first two weeks of “real-world” work as an editorial assistant. I can offer sound subway directions to tourists. I’ve made it through a year of paying rent in New York City and discovered my favorite parks, a go-to Indian restaurant, and the fastest Starbucks baristas on my commute. I survived a round of layoffs and added job responsibilities. I just got into a new apartment without any help or guidance from my parents, which felt like a truly adult move. I feel a bit smarter and stronger for all of it.

I spend my days pitching, researching, reporting, writing, and editing for SELF, a health and fitness magazine for women in their 20s and 30s. I also assist our top editors, which often involves attending events, testing new exercise gear, and trying out boutique fitness classes before and after work and reporting back to them. I work long hours, but it’s fulfilling work with a team I love. I also travel to cover events and explore the fitness and foodie scene in new areas. Biking and kayaking in Vancouver before watching the U.S. Women’s National Team play in the World Cup definitely tops the list. To date, I’ve completed an Ironman 70.3 and run two half marathons as part of the SELF team. The racing culture feels like home for a Wartburg track and field graduate.

I couldn’t ask for a better gig. It’s something I’ve dreamed about since I saw 13 Going on 30 in middle school and wanted more than anything to be Jenna Rink, the main character who works at a glamorous women’s magazine. The obsession grew when I fell in love with reporting while working on my high school newspaper staff. Writing for the Wartburg Trumpet and Wartburg Magazine set me up for the internship that arguably got me my job.

I spent the summer of 2013 in New York City as an intern at SELF through the American Society of Magazine Editors internship program, making invaluable connections (including friends who would later let me crash on their couch). I also gained experience and met mentors through internships at The Waterloo-Cedar Falls Courier, Rada Manufacturing Co., and VGM Forbin, as well as during my student employment in Wartburg’s Marketing & Communication Office and through my communication arts curriculum.

After graduation, I applied for several positions in New York City, wanting to get back and see if I could make it there for real. I got a phone interview at SELF for the position I currently hold, but I didn’t get it. I was discouraged, but not enough to give up. I knew it would be extremely difficult for me to get a job in the magazine industry straight out of college, especially if I was so far away that I couldn’t meet my future bosses in person. So when the opportunity came along, I took a post-grad internship in Pennsylvania at Men’s Health magazine.

I packed up my car and drove with my dad across the country, moving in with a friend I’d met as an intern in New York. I interviewed scientists, taste-tested protein powders, and went on weekly runs with the neighboring editors at Runner’s World. And I didn’t give up on the SELF job and New York City. When new positions opened up, I applied. I reached out to my contacts. I took the 5 a.m. bus two hours into the city for interviews. And when the time was right, it happened. I got the job.

I had to start a week later.

Since it was too expensive to commute from Pennsylvania until I found an apartment in the city, I’d arranged for three nights in my friend’s closet, two nights on my other friend’s couch, and a week in the bedroom of a fellow Wartburg track and field alum and friend who lived in New Jersey, while he and his roommates were home for the holidays. When it came time to spend the week in New Jersey, none of the tenants were home, and I didn’t have a key, so (per my friend’s directions) I took off a window screen and crawled in. I was terrified someone was going to call the cops because they thought I was robbing the place. Those first few weeks weren’t easy. But they were worth it. I always thought of it as an adventure—and a good story.

I’ll never get tired of the city lights, but I miss the wide open spaces in Iowa, the fresh air, and having a car. My wallet misses the lower cost of living. Most of all, I wish I could see family and friends more often. But I’m proud of where I am and what I’m doing. The city is exhausting, and it tests you every day. But I love a good challenge. There’s nothing quite like New York City. And now that I’m (somewhat) settled a year later, the hustle and bustle feels like home.