Live. Give. Run. Blog
To Inspire and Move the Human Spirt, One Sole at a Time
Any longtime runner is familiar with the shock, confusion, horror, concern, and incomprehension they are met with when they tell a non-runner they are training for a marathon (or any race, or that they enjoy running in general). They simply do not understand; so let me answer their questions once and for all. Why do I run? Peace, connection, joy.
I am running this race for my wife Erin, daughter Dreux and the rest of my family. They're a huge part of my "WHY" in anything I do, when I set my intentions on something inspiring. Knowing that my daughter will be paying attention to MY ACTIONS for the rest of her life as she grows into a young lady, I want her to know that her father didn't always have a Dad Bod and wants her to continuously challenge herself mentally, physically and spiritually and to also know that the journey is the destination. #TheMarathonContinues
I never considered myself to be a runner until high school. I joined my cross country team simply to make friends since I was the new kid on the block. I was lucky enough to have my first spike night at the old Charm City Run in Clarksville. It was a great experience, and I learned immediately that running was more than just quickly putting one foot in front of the other. I developed a passion for the sport thanks to my team and coaches, and realized that I could be a runner if I just took the chance.
My relationship with running has been a long journey of ups and downs, stretched over thousands of miles, three coaches, and countless races. When I joined my high school team after running somewhat recreationally in middle school, I was both excited by, and apprehensive of, the tradition of excellence I was joining. I had always been a competitive person but being the best freshman on a team fresh off winning a state championship came with an immense pressure that I continuously struggled to manage for my entire first year at Dulaney.
I hear it through the bathroom door: “Event 582 Final Call, event 582 Final Call. Please make your way to the paddock.” The official's voice is muffled but unmistakable, and those two words-final call- are a sign to every track athlete that this is the moment. Those words mean go time. I straighten my singlet, making sure the “PENN” I wear emblazoned on my chest is loud and clear. I set my shoulders and take a deep breath and step out of Weightman Hall with my relay team to the roar of the 36,000 deep crowd at the 126th annual Penn Relays.
Trail running is hard, complicated and at times, it can be frustrating. Trail running is also enthralling, natural, the trail is alive and provides the greatest sensation of accomplishment I have ever found. Trail running is spiritual for me, as much as it is physical. My friend and running partner, Celia and I, are running the Appalachian Trail (AT), from Georgia to Maine in long weekend segments. We are two mothers of two, with full time jobs and full plates who created this opportunity for ourselves. We named it the AT RunVenture Project because we wanted to keep it fun, an adventure in exploration
Picture it: a beautiful day in Colorado, skiing under clear blue skies when out of nowhere: BOOM! I was hit by an out-of-control skier. The aftermath of the accident was a complete tear of my left ACL as well as a partially torn meniscus.
The pain of the injury was intense, but short-lived. By the time I had made it to the emergency center at the mountain base, I had only minimal physical discomfort. However, after learning of my diagnosis and the long road of recovery ahead of me, the mental discomfort was real…and not short lived.
