Comparison: The Thief of Joy

I belong to multiple Facebook running groups: Running the World, Run JunkEes Run Club and Women's Running Club-WRC, to name a few of my faves. I love these groups so much because despite the fact that the people who post in them may be separated from each other by oceans and thousands of miles, they totally get it: the pull to wake at stupid o'clock to get in a 6-miler, the desire to commiserate with those who know what it's like to lose a toenail or suffer from chafing or a more serious injury like Achilles tendonitis or plantar fasciitis or shin splints or broken bones, and the need to laugh about how we eat, sleep, and dream about running all the time.

Running is a very individual sport. What works for one will not work for another. There are a variety of issues that runners experience and an even more vast array of solutions to any particular problem. With such differences, it's no surprise that I am occasionally bothered by some of the posts and comments I read.

Today I ran the Biggest Loser half marathon in Buffalo. The mileage from this race brings my August total to 175.57, a personal record for me. In the nearly five years I've been running, I've never logged that many miles in a month, and wow! This accomplishment feels great!

This was a tough goal to meet. To reach it, I needed to log a minimum of 5.65 miles every day. There were days when I could only fit in a mile - either because my schedule was full or my body simply needed a break - which meant that for the rest of the week/month, I had to play catch-up. Some days I simply just didn't want to run at all, but my IRun4 buddies helped to motivate me. At the beginning of the month, I contemplated upping my goal to 200 miles (I like round, even numbers) but quickly changed my mind after the end of the first week. The goal I had set was enough.

This evening, I sat down to peruse some of the groups to see what was happening in the cyber running world. I was on a high from finishing the race and adding up my monthly mileage. In fact, I felt pretty darned good about it all, and then I read this post: "Okay my month [of] slacking is over. Just 352 miles this month. Now back to normal[.]"

Good Lord! If 352 miles this month is considered "slacking," what the heck have I been doing?! That's a minimum of 11.35 miles every day. How does one do this, exactly? Suddenly all my hard work seemed paltry.

Then in a different group, a woman posted that she ran 120 miles for the month but felt that wasn't enough compared to the monthly totals other people were touting. I felt a camaraderie with her instantly. Wasn't I too feeling inadequate?

We are so hard on ourselves. We work so hard for what we want, and when we accomplish it, we don't allow ourselves to enjoy the fruits of our labor. We hold up our accomplishments next to someone else's and too often find that ours pale in comparison.

We can also be blinded by past successes. I'll use today's race as an example. Going into this half marathon, my plan was to do at least one of two things: set a half marathon personal record by beating my best time of 2:05 and change, and/or finish the race in under two hours. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to accomplish either one of these goals. In fact, I knew by the third mile that neither goal was going to happen. It was a bitter realization, and my failure to follow through shadowed much of the race. I'm okay with today's results. Despite heat/humidity, muscle cramps and stomach issues, I finished with a respectable time. But still, if only I could have run faster like I have in the past ...

Which brings me to one of my favorite quotes, attributed to Theodore Roosevelt: "Comparison is the thief of joy." This quote is valid in nearly every aspect of life. I need to laminate and post it everywhere - my bedroom/bathroom/running space, my classroom, make it my laptop wallpaper, even - so that I am constantly reminded of its truth.

We are in charge of our own Happiness. When we let Comparisons dictate our worth, we leave open the door that houses Joy and before we know it, in walks Inadequacy and Incompetency, Misery and Melancholy, Anxiety and Anger, and let's not forget that green-eyed monster, Jealousy. If we feed them, they will take over. It is better to leave these types of guests out in the cold to starve.

Thanks for reading, friends. :)

Race Day Woes

Life is so unpredictable. Despite all our best intentions to prepare for anything, we just never really know what will be thrown our way.

The same can be said about running and training for races.

Most marathon plans incorporate a variety of training runs over the course of 16 to 18 weeks. Depending upon the training plan level - beginner, intermediate, advanced - runners might log anywhere between 400 and 1,000 miles just to run one marathon.

To a non-runner, this probably sounds absolutely crazy, and on some levels maybe it is. But in order for one to prepare the body for the task of running 26.2 miles in one go, these training runs are essential. They build endurance, strength, and most importantly, mental toughness.

However, there are many variables that can happen on race day that, no matter what kind of training a runner completes, will throw a wrench into the best-laid plans.

One of the most difficult race-day variables to overcome is weather, and spring marathons can be the trickiest. The problem lies in the fact that a vast majority of spring race training is completed during the cooler winter months. This isn't an issue if the weather is cool on race day, but it's been my experience that more often than not, spring race day temps are less than ideal.

I experienced this problem when I ran the May 2012 Cleveland Marathon. My goal going into this race was to set a PR. I was really hoping to cut about 19 minutes off my best marathon time and finish around five hours, preferably under it. This goal drove my training for this race, and as I toed up to the start line, I was confident. My training had gone very well and I felt great.

I ran with the 5:00 pace group for most of the race and was very comfortable through mile 16, but then it all went south. The water station there had run out of cups, but since I had hydrated well at the previous station, I didn't think it would be too much of a problem and could hold off until the next station. By the time I reached mile 17, I was in trouble. I felt lightheaded, sick to my stomach and developed a pounding headache. The mid-80 temps, lack of shade and not hydrating at the previous water station caught up with me, and I had to reassess my goal: either continue the pace I had kept for the previous 17 miles and risk a DNF (Did Not Finish) and a ride in an ambulance or worse, or take it easy and just get across the finish line. I chose the latter and walked the remaining nine miles of the race, hence my 6:15 and change finish time.

Despite the fact that the Cleveland race marked my worst marathon time by far, I am thankful that I was able to finish. I made a smart decision and was ready to call it off altogether if my condition didn't improve. I swallowed my pride and tossed out my goal without hesitation. I also learned a few valuable lessons at that race, the most important being that despite the additional weight a hydration pack adds to a 26.2 mile run, it's worth wearing one on hot race days.

Another variable that can affect race day is health/general wellness. On Halloween morning 2013, I was running along my favorite route early in the morning when, a few miles in, I stepped on something - a pinecone, perhaps, or a stick - and rolled my foot. I hobbled the last mile or so to get to my car, praying that it wasn't too serious because I had a marathon in a week and a half in West Virginia. I dropped my run streak (66 days!) and rested and doctored my foot until race day.

Again, I had a goal to finish in under five hours and set a PR. In September of that year, I had run the Erie Marathon and clocked my best marathon time at 4:31:00 and was hoping to top it in WV's Marshall Marathon. However, I had to revise my goal as my foot was still a bit tender. The weather was cool and overcast, perfect conditions for a race, but my foot began to bother me at around mile 19. Still, I persevered and finished in 5:08 and change. For the 2011 Chicago Marathon, I clocked my second-worst time (just under six hours) because of knee issues, which I eventually fixed with a shoe change. You can read about that race in my blog post about running minimalist.

Other variables such as course terrain can be overcome by training appropriately, but unpleasant surprises can still lurk around every corner, especially if one is unfamiliar with the area. This couldn't be more true than when I think back to the marathon I ran in July 2013 in Vermont: the Mad Marathon.

Perhaps the name should have given me a clue. Touted on its website as "The world's most beautiful marathon," I just had to give it a shot. The elevation chart was a bit intimidating, but hey, I live in Cassadaga. I can't go a mile out my front door without encountering some pretty hefty hills, so I thought I would be able to train for this race by incorporating them into every mid-level and long run in my plan.

Well, it was a good idea in theory, anyway. We arrived in Vermont the day before the race. I picked up my packet in a very timely fashion (I was the only runner there, so no waiting in line!) and, since we had some time to burn, we decided to drive the course. What an eye opener it was. The hills were HUGE, much steeper and longer than I had imagined. Suddenly I was confronted with the knowledge that my training had been woefully insufficient.

If you dislike running flat courses, then you should give the Mad Marathon a try because there isn't a single flat spot to be had. Only a few hundred runners sign up for and finish the Mad Marathon each year; I guess not many people like the idea of running miles and miles of hills. While the course is indeed very beautiful - rustic country where the cows outnumber the spectators 50 to 1 - it took every ounce of energy I had and a full cup of locally brewed beer at mile 23 (very yummy, too!) to complete the course. I didn't have much energy to fully enjoy the views but did snap a few pictures. Not looking to set any PRs this time, I planned to finish in under six hours and did so in 5:29 and change. Afterward, I went to our room and crashed. It took me nearly two weeks to recover.

(elevation chart for the Mad Marathon - doesn't do it justice!)

I'm fortunate that up to this point, I've been able to finish every race I've started. I'm sure there will be a race that will get the best of me or a day when I am ill or something comes up and I can't make it. I'm not looking forward to it happening, but it's inevitable. Life is too unpredictable to plan otherwise!

Thanks for reading, friends. :)

My Version Of "You Might Be A Runner If …"

YOU MIGHT BE A RUNNER IF …

… you know where the one mile marker lies from your house - in any direction.

… you see vehicles with running-related stickers and instantly feel a camaraderie with the people inside.

... it's totally normal to take two or three showers every day.

… you have multiple pairs of running shoes.

… you have some very interesting tan lines.

… you are a member of more than one running group on Facebook.

… you are signed up for multiple races at any given time.

… you know the meanings of most/all of the following acronyms: PR, PB, PW, BQ, DNF, DNS, DNQ, DFL, LSR, LSD, HR, OR, WR, AG, ITBS, AT, PF, SFX, MP, HM, MPM, RD, DOMS, XT, C25K, XC, WU, CD.

… you fear loose dogs.

… you know the correct mileage for these races: 5k, 8k, 10k, 12k, 15k, half marathon, full marathon, 50k, 100k, Ironman.

… you know the mileage for these distances: 200 meters, 400 meters, 800 meters, 1,200 meters, 1,600 meters.

… your running clothes take up the most space in your closet.

… you know the location of every public bathroom and drinking fountain in a twenty-mile radius. And if there are none, you have spots already picked out where you can duck and squat. Oh, and you carry wipes with you, always.

… every vacation includes a race or, at the very least, multiple training runs.

… you frequently check the weather forecast to determine how it will affect your runs/races.

… you analyze the color of your urine to determine how well you've hydrated.

… your friends ask you for your race schedule so they can plan their wedding. (True story. My friend Michele can vouch!)

… your cure for feeling tired is to go for a run.

… your cure for everything - with the exception of the stomach flu and running-related injuries - is to go for a run.

… you know how these types of runs differ: tempo, fartlek, pace, interval, hill repeats, strides.

… you get really excited when you discover a new running route.

… you have lost friends, FB or otherwise, because they are tired of hearing/reading about your running.

… you have been called "insane," an "addict" or "crazy" and consider them compliments.

… all you think about is running.

… you have used the excuse "I'm carb-loading" to eat whatever the hell you want.

… you have peed/pooped in the woods or in a field or blown snot rockets while on a run.

… you get jealous when you see others running.

… Imodium is your friend.

… you're excited for your next birthday because it means you'll be in a new age group, which means it's just a little bit easier to qualify for Boston.

… you associate the word "bib" with a race rather than a baby.

… you have a huge bundle of safety pins in your car.

… you know all the signs and symptoms of common runner injuries.

… you can't imagine life without Body Glide.

… you have an extra set of running clothes in the car … just in case an opportunity arises.

… you finish a run/race and you're already focused and excited about the next run/race.

… you've swallowed/inhaled multiple insects.

… you can spot other runners by looking at their calves.

… you ache for more running gear - shoes, watches, clothes - because you can never have enough of it all.

… you want to high-five every other runner you see.

… without looking, you can list correctly, and to the second, your personal record for every distance you've raced.

… you're okay with driving hundreds/thousands of miles to run 26.2 miles.

… you determine whether an unfamiliar area is livable based on the area roads' "runability."

… you have an overwhelming desire to

Inspiration, Motivation: IRun4

To be a distance runner, one must have plenty of motivation. It's not always easy to get out there day after day and pound out the miles. Despite my successes, sometimes it's really hard to get off the couch. I know that I will feel better after a run, but those first steps and that first mile can be SO. HARD. Sometimes my internal motivation is lacking, so I rely upon other sources of inspiration to get me going.

In October 2013, I found a Facebook group entitled I Run for Michael. In this group, runners are paired with special needs buddies and dedicate their runs and workouts to them. I thought this was a fabulous idea. Why not put intention behind every run? So I signed up. The runner list was long, and the estimated wait time to be paired with a buddy was six to eight weeks.

(Bryce's cute little toes)

While I was waiting to be paired in the IRun4 group, I came across a post that mentioned another group: I Run for … Remembrance. In this group, runners are paired with those who have passed on and dedicate their runs/workouts to that person's memory. I immediately thought of my friends Paul and Mary who, after years of trying to have a child, lost their miracle baby Bryce to Trisomy 18. I urged Mary to sign up, and she did. I messaged the woman in charge of making the matches and asked if I could be paired with Bryce, but she told me that the pairing process was random. However, Mary made it happen!

I found out I was paired with Bryce on Thanksgiving, November 28th. That morning, I ran the Cold Turkey 5k with Bryce in mind and placed first in my age group. My angel is with me every step of every run, and it makes me happy that I'm doing my part to ensure that his memory lives on.

(Gracie)

On December 5th, I received a message stating I had been paired in the IRun4 group, and she is the most perfect match. Her name's Gracie, and she lives in Maryland. She's seven years old, has Trisomy 21 (aka Down syndrome), and is my warrior. At seven months old, she survived open heart surgery. In April 2013, she suffered two severe strokes within days of each other. After almost a month in a coma and three and a half months in the hospital, she went home to begin the second phases of her battle: to learn how to do everything all over again. She is defying the doctors every day and showing the world just how tenacious she is. She's a constant source of inspiration for me.

On October 18th, I will be running the Baltimore Marathon and hope to meet Gracie and her parents, Mike and Kim, for the first time!

(Bri)

Most recently, I learned of yet another offshoot of the IRun4 page: I Run for Siblings. In this group, runners are paired with siblings of special needs children so that they too can connect with a runner. On  August 7th, a few days after I signed up, I was matched with my hero Bri. She is thirteen years old and lives in Ohio. The oldest of six siblings, she helps take care of her two younger sisters, Layla (3) and Angel (2), both of whom have Infantile Neuroaxonal Dystrophy. As we have just been paired recently, Bri and I are still getting to know each other, but I've discovered that she's great at giving me distance goals for my training runs.

The members of my team give me a strong drive to do well and to live, and run, with intention. I am so blessed to have them in my life!

Thanks for reading, friends. :)

Running Minimalist

It never fails.

At every marathon start line, I get this question or something like it: "Hey, are those shoes comfortable?" I want to roll my eyes, but instead I  simply answer in the affirmative. Honestly, how stupid would I be if I was toeing up to a start line to run 26.2 miles in uncomfortable shoes?!

It's okay, though … the shoes I wear are bound to get some strange responses because, frankly, not many people wear them. While I'm standing around waiting for a race to start, I'll take a peek at the shoes other runners are sporting. In a bigger marathon race, I might see a handle of people out of thousands wearing Vibram FiveFingers. We often greet each other with the comment, "Hey, nice shoes!" In smaller races, I might very well be the only one.

Recently, the Vibram FiveFinger company settled a class-action lawsuit, paying out nearly $4 million to disgruntled customers for making claims about the benefits of wearing these shoes that were not backed up by scientific studies. Boy, did I hear about that, too!

The lawsuit doesn't negate the fact that these shoes are, by far, the most comfortable I've ever worn. I started my running journey in Asics, but after experiencing knee pain while training for my first full (the 2011 Buffalo Marathon), I switched to Brooks. The knee pain continued, and while training for my second full (the 2011 Chicago Marathon), I began to make the transition to Vibram FiveFingers. Unfortunately, I did not have enough mileage built up in the VFF to be able to run in them for Chicago, and boy, did I suffer! By mile 13, I was unsure of my ability to finish. At around mile 20, I hooked up with a man who made his living by training people to run marathons. His 2:1 intervals (run two minutes, walk a minute, for those unfamiliar with how intervals work) and frequent stretch breaks helped me and my bum knee get across the finish line.

After that race, I ramped up my efforts to transition to VFF for good, and I haven't looked back. Since Chicago, I've completed every road training run and race in my comfy toe shoes. Goodbye, knee pain!

It's true that minimalist shoes are not for everyone. In fact, all one has to do to fully realize that there are many different kinds of feet out there is to look at the multitude of running shoe choices: Asics, Brooks, Nike, Adidas, Saucony, Skechers, Hoka, Mizuno, Altra, New Balance, Airia, and Topo Athletic, just to list a few of the big names. Each of these brands has different models that cater to runners' motion mechanics (overpronator, underpronator, normal) and how their feet strike the ground (forefoot, midfoot, or heel striker). There are so many choices out there that for beginner runners it can be a bit overwhelming. In fact, finding the right shoe sometimes requires trial and error, which is exactly what happened in my case. Even those wanting to go minimalist have plenty of brand choices.

Unfortunately, quality running shoes aren't cheap. I spent hundreds of dollars buying the wrong ones. The VFFs run around $100 a pair; they're not cheap, either. The upside to wearing minimalist shoes is that they do not need to be replaced every 300-500 miles like regular running shoes. In fact, the very first pair of VFF I purchased are, despite some significant wear on the soles, completely functional. It won't be long before I wear a hole right through them, and I will probably cry when it happens. Those shoes have seen me through thousands of pain-free miles.

Another positive of wearing VFF is that after every wear, I can toss them in the washer and let them air dry: as good as new!

I think the biggest mistake people make when transitioning from regular shoes to minimalist ones is that they are impatient. They buy a pair and then go out and run a 3-miler in them. Bad idea! Most minimalist shoe companies recommend a slow transition, building up hours of casual wear before taking them out for a short, half-mile spin. I did my research and followed the advice published on the VFF website and made the transition injury-free. It took patience, but it was worth it.

Most will rarely see me wear anything but VFF. I do wear a pair of yellow New Balance shoes every now and then as they were freebies from the 2014 Kalamazoo Marathon (for being the first person from NY to sign up for the race). They're okay, but they're not nearly as comfortable as my toe shoes. In the winter, I often wear a pair of Merrells that have a Vibram sole because, unfortunately, VFF are not the greatest shoes for winter wear. I do have a pair of VFF Lontras. They are waterproof and insulated, but they are much stiffer compared to my other VFF and therefore not as comfortable.

When I am wearing my toe shoes, I get few curious glances, a few questions and sometimes a smattering of negative comments about their appearance (they are ugly, okay? But they're so gosh-darn comfortable!). I've also heard some predictions such as, "When you're older, you're going to wish you wore proper shoes. You're ruining your body!" I just shrug and continue to do what I know is right for me. My current favorite pair are the Bikila EVOs (pictured above).

While I can't back it up with scientific studies, I know that if I had continued to run in Asics or Brooks, my running journey would have been short-lived.

Thanks for reading, friends. :)

The Trouble With Time

Sprints, fartleks, PRs, intervals, negative splits …

Time can be a funny thing.

It always starts the same. I begin a lake run with the intention of taking it easy - just a little jaunt along my favorite route. I finish my first mile in 10:23, very near what I like to call my favorite pace as it's the speed I could maintain comfortably for multiple miles.

Near the end of this first mile, something happens.

I catch my stride. My breathing evens. My lungs open wide. Any soreness I had at the start of the run fades. I note my surroundings, the weather, the lake, the sky. The hairs on my arms prickle. A smile teases the corners of my mouth. My troubles melt away. I feel free.

This feeling that I can fly is one of the things I love about running.

Suddenly that easy run becomes something else. I become a competitive beast and think to myself, Negative splits!

For those who are unfamiliar with running jargon, a negative split run happens when one completes every mile faster than the one before it. So, essentially, I finish stronger than I started.

The second mile on my favorite route is harder than the first because it encompasses a hill. It's short but steep, and regardless of how many times I run it, I'm always out of breath at the top. But because that negative split is calling me, the urge to walk for a minute or two at the top fades into the background and I take the very slight downward slope that follows the hill at a fast clip to make up for any time I might have lost in the climb. Time: 10:07. So far, so good.

I pass a golf course, some open fields that the deer seem to like, and then a steep downhill near the end of mile three. Time: 9:34.

The last mile is a doozie with some small inclines and sharp curves. I have to be on top of my game in this section. I can't succumb to the mind-numbing sounds of my footfalls and hard breathing. Instead, I have to be extra alert for traffic. Despite the 30 mile per hour speed limit, drivers like to whip around the blind curves a bit too fast, and with a mere foot of shoulder, I have to be ready for them. The last .20 miles of this mile is on sidewalk, and again I have to be careful so that I don't get hit by someone backing out of a driveway or trip over uneven concrete slabs. This is where I sprint to the traffic light, my signal that this run is over. Time: 9:15, and now I've got a wicked runner's high that will last for hours.

Success … this time.

Time is not always my friend, and more often than not, things don't go my way. I've yet to beat my 5k PR (personal record) of 23:37 that I set on Thanksgiving Day 2012 at the Cold Turkey 5k in Fredonia. I came close at the same race in 2013 but missed it by a mere 24 seconds. TWENTY. FOUR. SECONDS. Seriously?! I couldn't find it within myself to run that course less than half a minute faster? Despite taking first place in my age group, those extra seconds stung.

And then there are marathons, a completely different kind of challenge when it comes to pacing and time goals. My PR, set at the 2013 Erie Marathon, is 4:31:00. This year, I've struggled to come within even a half an hour of that time, a fact that bothers me more than it should considering I've upped my weekly/monthly/yearly mileage significantly and have run nearly every day.

For that Erie race, everything was perfect: temps in the 60s, a shaded course that's flat flat flat, and I felt amazing from start to finish. In fact, I ran my fastest mile of the course at a 9:13 pace - and it was mile 25-26. I ran the last .2 miles of the course at a 7:30 pace. It was, by nearly thirteen minutes, my best marathon time ever. And yet … my goal was 4:30. That extra minute really hurt. If only I had run each mile a little more than two seconds faster. It doesn't seem like that should be too hard, does it?

It's not just races where I'm a slave to time. Training runs can be just as difficult. I incorporate one run a week that is dedicated to speed. I usually do fartleks (a fun, Swedish word that means "speed" play), where I run for a bit (the distance between three mailboxes, for instance, or two light poles, or whatever else strikes my fancy) at full speed and then recover for a couple of minutes, then I do it again and again and again. Fartleks are fun, but they are HARD. Often, despite the fact that I've worked on speed, my finishing times for these types of runs are a bit longer than usual because I take the recovery intervals at a slower pace. Sometimes it's hard for me to be okay with this. I like my finishing time to reflect the effort I put into the run, but it doesn't always work out that way.

And then there are intervals where I will run hard for two minutes and recover for one, or whatever time I determine before I begin. I'll do these for three or four miles. They are easy at the start, but the last few intervals are tough. Again, my times tend to be slower for these runs due to the recovery intervals.

Or I'll do 400 meter sprints, or 800 meter sprints, or whatever, and then recover for 200 meters or 400 meters. These runs are best done on a treadmill where I can easily see my progress and adjust to the correct speed.

Regardless of the type of run, one thing remains constant: I'm always monitoring.

Time, time, time. I'm such a slave to it! I have trouble running without my Garmin watch which keeps track of my distance, current/average pace, overall time, and lap times. I always want to know how far I've gone, how fast I completed each mile, and my overall time. And then I record, record, record.

Sometimes I envy the Zen runners, the ones who don't give a fig for the numbers. They just go out and run. When they are done, they're done. When they're not, they keep going. They don't circle parking lots to get that last .14 of a mile to make it an even five (guilty!). They don't judge a run by what the watch says (guilty!). I can't help but think that they must enjoy their runs on a completely different level, and I am missing out.

Yet when I look back on my running logs when I first started running outdoors (sadly, I didn't record the first nine months or so of my running), it's the time and distance records of each run that really showcase just how far I've come on this journey. I used to struggle to break a 12-minute mile, and this was after running for nearly a year. I used to have trouble completing two miles. There once was a time when the longest run I could do in an hour was four miles.

If I was not a slave to time and the numbers, I wouldn't be able to see just how far I've come.

I'm sure I will reach a point in my running journey when I too won't give a fig for the numbers and will be happy with just being able to get out there and feel free. Until then, I'm okay with putting myself under a little bit of pressure to try to eliminate those extra seconds. After all, I have PRs to chase!

Thanks for reading, friends. :)

In the beginning ...

At the behest of a few friends and family, I have created a blog to chronicle my running journey. Welcome to my first entry!

All journeys have a beginning, and mine is not so different from many others who put on a pair of running shoes and soon discover a run's cathartic qualities.

My journey began with a desire to lose some residual weight from my last pregnancy. I was a size 16 (and in some clothes, a size 18), the heaviest I had ever been in my relatively athletic life. I was depressed, angry, on medication for high blood pressure and anxiety, not myself. I needed to take control of my life again, and when I was gifted a treadmill (thank you, Aunt Joanne!), it seemed like a sign.

I remember my first run very clearly. The year 2010 had just started. Despite not having done much physically for about three years, I expected my once-athletic body to be able to churn out at least a mile with no problem. I stepped onto the treadmill with high hopes and was quickly brought back to reality when, after the first tenth of a mile, I felt like I could barely breathe. My legs protested, my back and knees ached. I was able to squeeze out a quarter of a mile before I stopped. I was supposed to feel better, wasn't I? Instead, I felt like a failure.

And then that stubborn side of me (the same side that has, frankly, gotten me into a bit of trouble from time to time) stepped in. Was I going to let a treadmill get the best of me? Was I just going to sit back and give up? Oh, heck no! I decided to work on my distance and add a little bit at a time. I knew at that point that this journey wasn't going to be a sprint but rather an endurance race: slow and steady would get me to the finish line.

Within a couple of months, I was able to run five miles. The weight started to come off,  slowly. By this time, I was down to around a size 12 and beginning to feel more confident and knew that I could do more. So I worked myself up in the mileage again. I decided to run five days a week, two run sessions each day. Before long, I was logging five miles in the morning before work and then five miles in the evening after work. The weight seemed to melt right off me, and in a few more months, I had lost 40 pounds and a few more sizes.

Despite my weight loss success, running was quickly becoming a chore, something I had to do, not something I necessarily wanted to do. And just like acquiring a treadmill when I needed it most, I gained my first running friend, Pam, at this crucial moment. She talked me into getting off the treadmill and running outdoors, and suddenly something I had begun to dread became interesting and new and … well … fun. She talked me into signing up for my first ever race, the Niagara Falls International Half Marathon, which I ran with her in October 2010. It was the most amazing experience, and I can still clearly remember the surge of happiness and feeling of accomplishment that rushed through me as we crossed the finish line. I cried when my mother gave me a hug and told me how proud she was of me, and the pride I felt in myself was something I had been sorely missing for some time.

I knew that I had to experience that rush again, and so that evening, I signed up for my first big race, the Buffalo Marathon, to occur in May 2011. Not long after that I signed up for the October 2011 Chicago Marathon. Here I was, signed up for two marathons before I even knew if I was capable of running one! And to top off my craziness, I made a hefty 2011 New Year's resolution: to run a marathon in every state.

This is how my journey began. I have since run 15 marathons in 13 different states:

NY - Buffalo Marathon May 2011 - 5:19:36
IL - Chicago Marathon October 2011 - 5:56:36
SC - Myrtle Beach Marathon February 2012 - 5:35:29
OH - Cleveland Marathon May 2012 - 6:15:01
VA - Marine Corps Marathon October 2012 - 5:12:40
FL - 26.2 with Donna February 2013 - 4:58:44
KY - Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon April 2013 - 4:43:18
VT - Mad Marathon July 2013 - 5:29:08
PA - Erie Marathon September 2013 - 4:31:00
WV - Marshall Marathon November 2013 - 5:08:36
AL - Mercedes Marathon February 2014 - 5:19:48
MI - Kalamazoo Marathon May 2014 - 4:51:41
MT - Missoula Marathon July 2014 - 5:05:07

The other two marathons I've completed were virtual marathons for charitable organizations:
Irish Upon a Star Virtual Marathon March 2014 (for the Make a Wish foundation) - 5:16:36
Mother's Day Virtual Marathon May 2014 (for the Special Olympics) - 5:31:59

I've also completed countless 5ks and a handful of half marathons in between marathon races. I have yet to run an official 10k, but it's on my bucket list.

I am addicted to running. If you follow me on FB, you'll notice that 90% of what I post deals with running, and for that, I'm not sorry at all. It has changed my life in so many wonderful ways. If you ask me about my journey, expect a long answer because I really like to talk about it. It makes me feel alive. Why wouldn't I want to spread that happiness?!

Thanks for reading, friends. :)