Nearly a year after
college, grad knows who and what she loves
Rhoda Fukushima / Knight Ridder
Newspapers (KRT)
Emily Koller noticed her boyfriend, Adam Johnson, was acting
funny. He was spending more time than usual instant-messaging
his friends, and he seemed more secretive.
Then one night in November, he insisted they have dinner in
downtown St. Paul, though it was packed with fans for a
hockey game. During the meal, Johnson took an unusually long
bathroom break. As the couple left, Johnson suggested they
walk through the Landmark Plaza park.
"Isn't there a way to go to the car through the
skyway?" Koller recalls asking.
He insisted. As they strolled, Koller spotted a candle, a
lantern and a basket with flowers and champagne on the
ground. She slowed down for a better look. Then, she spied
the engraved stone.
"EK ~ MARRY ME?? ~ AJ"
"I said, 'Yes,'" Koller says, but she was
in a state of semi-shock. "He kept standing there
holding the ring, asking, 'Are you going to put it
on?'"
She did. But getting engaged is only one big change for
Koller. In the past few months, the Macalester College
graduate quit her job, got a new one and began coaching at
her alma mater. At the end of April, she and Johnson will
move to bigger digs. She may return to competitive running.
And she's toying with the idea of going to graduate
school in art history. All of this, she says, is about
finding her place in life after college.
"It's such a different feel," Koller says.
"All those (changes) relate to finding where I
fit."
Perhaps it's the years of competitive athletics, but
Koller doesn't waste her movements, not even when
planning a wedding.
On her lunch break from work one day, Koller stopped at
Rush's Bridal in Minneapolis. Earlier, she had tried on
dresses at another store, with no luck. At Rush's, she
slipped on a $280 strapless gown with a beaded bodice, full
skirt, no train. It fit. It flattered. She bought it.
"If it works the first time, I'm not going to spend
more time on it," she says.
She and Johnson will wed July 31 in her hometown of Greybull,
Wyo. It will be a small affair – about 85 guests
– and they'll have a bigger reception in the Twin
Cities in the fall.
With help from Koller's mom, they've checked the big
things off the list: church, photographer and flowers. Their
reception will be at a restaurant Koller worked at during
high school. After dinner, they'll host a cocktail hour
and Western dance.
"I've been a cocktail waitress for numerous
weddings," she says. "Now, it's my turn. That
will be fun."
Though they didn't make a formal budget, Koller keeps a
running tab in her mind. Dress: $280. Photographer: $600.
Flowers: $500. Dinner: $15 per person. She and Johnson will
pay for the invitations, dress, tuxedos, open bar and DJ. Her
parents will cover the flowers, food, cake and champagne. His
parents will take care of the rehearsal dinner.
They're making their own invitations. Though they've
hired a photographer to shoot the ceremony and formal photos,
Koller's dad and grandpa will shoot pictures at the
reception.
"It's a special day, but it's also just one
day," Koller says. "There are a lot of things we
can do with money right now. I'd like to be pretty
economical."
Koller says the planning process has not been stressful
– and shouldn't be. But occasionally, she ruminates
on the significance of the day.
"I'll get this little twinge of 'Oh, my
gosh,' and what the actual day will be like and
committing ourselves to each other," she says.
"It's kind of like Christmas – trees, lights,
presents and then you're hit by what it's really
about."
Koller has already made a big decision. She plans to keep her
surname. Many people, especially her former Macalester
teammates, call her by her last name.
"It would be really strange to change it – my
identity," Koller says. "I don't think taking
Adam's last name will make us more committed as a couple.
I'm really attached to my last name."
Koller's establishing her identity – and, perhaps,
a career path – in other ways, too.
Last summer, she took a job at a health-care consulting firm
in Minneapolis. To do so, she passed up a chance to work with
The Sporting Life, a running/special-events company in St.
Paul. Koller was a commission and enrollment assistant at
Clark Consulting, a job that required much phone work. Over
time, she realized that as much as she liked her colleagues,
she did not enjoy the days at the desk.
"It wasn't Clark Consulting, but it was the
lifestyle I wasn't happy with," Koller says.
"Leaving at 7 in the morning to sit in traffic, to sit
in a high-rise, to sit in front of a computer, to get back at
6, too tired or too cold to run."
She worried about getting stuck in an unsatisfying career
path. She inquired about an open marketing position but
learned she had to be at Clark at least a year before making
a move. She took the GREs as a "safety net" and
applied to graduate school at the University of St. Thomas.
In January, she became the assistant coach/sprints at
Macalester. Though she had been a distance runner, she found
the transition smooth. Two nights a week, she meets with the
team to monitor practices, take splits, teach technique.
Weekends, she's often at track meets.
In early March, The Sporting Life came knocking again.
Founder Chris Fuller was looking for a full-time operations
manager. The job would involve producing events, developing
sponsorships, research and writing. And the salary was an
"improvement" over Clark. This time, Koller said
yes.
"It's everything I want to do," she says.
Koller says the decision was easy, but it was hard to tell
her Clark friends. She told them she could not pass up this
opportunity. They wished her well.
"Then, it came out: 'You're really good at what
you do,'" Koller recalls them saying. "I
thought, 'Why didn't you just tell me that before? I
felt like I was just one out of 200.'"
She felt badly about giving only two weeks' notice.
"I have never quit anything," she said, days before
leaving. "It feels like I am quitting."
Her dad told her she wasn't quitting; she was resigning.
Koller's last day at Clark was a Friday.
The following Monday, she was at The Sporting Life, helping
with last-minute details for the Human Race, an 8K run in St.
Paul. Her days stretched to nine and 10 hours, but she
relished working on projects that melded her two loves
– running and event promotion. She did not miss the
structure of her old work life. At one point, she and Fuller
had a conversation about grunt work.
"Even punching holes in signs is so much more
meaningful," she says.
One of her main jobs will be to line up sponsorships. She is
confident because the races are well run and attract everyone
from elite runners to families.
"Like Donald Trump says, 'You have to like something
to sell it,'" Koller says, quoting from her favorite
Thursday night show.
On the day of the Human Race, Koller acts as the pre-race
announcer. Johnson, who has come late, offers his two
cents' worth about her delivery.
"Pick it up, babe," he says, smiling and
high-fiving her. "You sound like the principal."
Throughout the morning, she answers a variety of questions
from racers.
Where's the bathroom?
Has the costume contest started? (The potato and the frog
won.)
When does the kids' race start?
Did I fasten the (timing) chip properly?
Seeing the runners makes Koller want to race again. She may
get into extreme racing this summer. For now, she'll
concentrate on learning the ropes at TSL. And if that means
driving a big truck filled with trail mix, water and animal
crackers the day before a race, she doesn't mind.
"It was the right decision," Koller says of her job
move.
And she takes issue with the human-resources directors who
interviewed her for jobs last year. They said she was
aimless, and that memory still stings.
"Bull__," she says. "Don't tell me I
don't have any direction."
Koller is a firm believer in opportunity. If it presents
itself, she'll jump on it.
That's exactly what happened two weeks ago.
Koller learned she was accepted into graduate school. A
longtime fan of historic preservation, she will major in art
history with an emphasis on architectural history. She was
also offered a fellowship, which will defray costs.
She'll likely stop coaching but still work full time for
The Sporting Life.
"I will have to manage my time differently, but I am
confident I can do both and do them well," she says.
For now, she and Johnson plan to sink their roots deeper into
St. Paul. Johnson is a marketing assistant at the Saint Paul
Riverfront Corp.
They are planning one smaller move, though. They found a
bigger one-bedroom apartment on West Seventh Street.
They're giving up the wood floors and hustle-bustle of
their Grand Avenue digs, but they're getting
air-conditioning and a two-block walk to the Mississippi
River.
"I'm from Wyoming," Koller says. "I feel
like I need my own space."
___
ABOUT THE SERIES:
Over the next year, the Knight Ridder Newspapers will track
four college graduates from Minnesota schools as they start
to make their way in the world. They're already finding
that it's tough out there – jobs are scarce,
apartments are expensive, and Mom and Dad aren't around
to help. This is the seventh installment in the series
chronicling the graduates' struggles and successes.
See an archive of this series and a slide show of photos at
www.twincities.com. Click on Special Reports for a link to
the package.
___
© 2003, Saint Paul Pioneer Press (St. Paul, Minn.).
Visit the World Wide Web site of the Pioneer Press at
http://www.twincities.com/mld/pioneerpress/
Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.
| 
