An Enduring Hunger

As part of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week, I decided to repost my blog written last year coinciding with the week’s mission to shed light on EDs. The week is an opportunity for education and inspiration, for survivors, sufferers, and their friends and family. Spreading the message: 3 Minutes Can Save a Life. Get Screened. Get Help. Get Healthy.
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Two Years Later

As I write this I am sitting in my bed wearing the shirt that I wore when I ran and completed my first half marathon. That was less than two years, and here I am, four half marathons and one full 26.2 miles later, gearing up for my fifth half marathon tomorrow morning.

Only two years and yet the miles I have logged astounds me.

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One Foot Forward

IMG_2042Saturday’s run was difficult.

Mentally, I wasn’t in it and I let that consume me from the beginning.

It is hard to explain, but I never felt into the long run this past weekend. I woke up, did my normal routine and headed out the door, yet I couldn’t shake this feeling.

Despite almost balmy 30-degree temperatures and a new-to-me route on the schedule, my typical enthusiasm lacked. With each passing mile, I felt myself counting down how many more I had left, how much faster I could go until I finished back at the store. Two bigs hills, one around mile four and a half and then a final climb to the end point, did not ease my anxiety. Yet, when I reached the top, amid hard breathing and that tingle up my legs that told me how hard they worked to push upwards, I felt that sense of reward in getting past the discomfort. Continue reading

Nerd Turned Athlete

I was a nerd in high school.

Straight up nerd.

I did mock trial and history fairs and perhaps the nerdiest of them all, Academic Decathlon, a ten-event scholastic competition that required me to willing give up a weekend to take tests and give interviews and speeches.

So I don’t deny my nerd title. In fact, I embrace it.

Yet in spite of my nerdiness and my ambition, there was someone at my high school who felt that my lack of athletic ability did not warrant my standing as the top student of my class.
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A Modern (Running) Family

The hardest part these days of running is not the actual exercise. It’s the getting out of bed to do it.

After telling myself that this winter’s training would be different from my last and vowing to stick to my scheduled SLRs, I spent a morning nestled under my covers. Even before the morning came I had already turned off my alarm and decided that I was going to use my Sunday for my long run and bypass the typical Saturday routine. I expected much of my fellow crew runners to do the same in postponing their runs, but when I reunited with the group last week, I heard from those who ran 7-8 miles in temperatures struggling to break out of the teens. Several ran with frozen GPS watches that failed to track their brave feat on that icy, bitter morning.
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What Hurts More than Marathon

IMG_1467A marathon is hard.

It is 26.2 miles of effort, sweat and energy. They are never easy, and by they finish you feel a combination of relief, excitement, and pain. Yes, after more than two dozen miles on your feet, everything starts to hurt.

But there are things in life that hurt, and are much harder, than a marathon.

Like when it hurts to receive bad news at 530 PM on a Monday.

When it hurts more when less than 18 hours later, you receive additional bad news while sitting at your desk eating lunch.

When it  hurts to know you can’t be with the people who you love and know are hurting worse than you.

When it hurts to know that you can’t even remember the last conversation you had with someone who you will never see or hug again.

When it hurts to miss someone who is no longer in your life.

When it’s hard not to cry in the middle of the work day when that is really all you want to do.

When it’s hard not to tell people what is truly bothering you when they ask “how are you?”

When it’s hard to admit that you don’t want to be alone when you cry.

When it’s hard to tell someone that you want them to stay, even when you know they can’t.

While none of these things physically hurt, the pain is nothing compared to a marathon. But even it the hurt from these things is different, my marathon experience has taught me that I have the strength to keep moving, literally. Although some days the suffering hurts more than others, you take each day at a time, hopeful that tomorrow will be better and there will at least be someone out there willing to run the course with you.


Feeling 22, Ready for 26.2

DSC_0005Yesterday as I was sifting through one of my notebooks during an office meeting, I found a list of my goals for 2014. Crafted at the start of the new year, I made a list of things I wanted to achieve and get in a habit of doing. In the midst of trying to cook three times a week (fail), read two books a month (some months were a fail), and heading to California (I made it kind of close), I wrote “Fall Marathon.”

And here I am, four days out from checking off that item.

At 22, I’m going to run a marathon. Continue reading