I love to run.  It is my favorite thing to do.  If I am having a tough day, or hour within a day, I go for a run, and I feel much better.  I love to run long distances.  My favorite distance to train is sixteen miles; my favorite to race is 26.2 miles, yes, that is a marathon.  I love running marathons.  Running is addicting, and racing marathons is nothing short of a padded-wall, committed, addiction.

 

I believe that running saved my life, and I think my husband believes it did, too.  I had a near breakdown about a year ago, and the only hope that pulled me through it was a quest to run more, much more than I had  ever planned to.  I vowed to myself, my husband, and anyone who was listening, to run thirty five marathons by the time I turned thirty five.  I was thirty two and a half at the time, and had twenty one marathons  under  my belt, but I still needed to complete fourteen more in just over 2.5 years to reach my goal.  I was instantly inspired and renewed, and had complete faith in myself that I would accomplish my goal. Fortunately, my husband was supportive of me, and not surprised at all by my idea, he thought it sounded like something I was meant to do. 

 

Today I am writing to report that I have run four marathons since my initial goal was sprouted, 25 down,  10  to go, and I am just as passionate about pursuing my goal as  I was a year ago.  I am on track to complete my thirty fifth marathon the weekend  before my birthday in Basel, Switzerland, where my brother and his family live.  I think it is a fitting finish line because he is the original marathoner in my family, and I may never had toed the line at all if it were not for him.  As a bit of a delicious distraction I have run seven marathons within ironman triathlons, but my true love is running the stand alone marathon.  I believe it was a race designed for me, and I find such joy in every facet of every race I run; from the people I meet the day before at the expo,  to the beginners on the starting line race morning g, to all of the volunteers who cheer, and hand out water and hope to all of us screaming by covered in sweat and determination.  The miraculous part of all of it is that I am running faster now than I ever have before.  The first stand stand-alone race that I had run in two years was nine minutes faster that my person best time recorded nine years  before, when I was a spritely twenty five year old.  Then, three months later I shaved off another five minutes during my twenty fifth marathon;  a mind-blowing feat . I never in a million years would have guessed that I would be running this fast right now, or ever, but I am, which is pretty amazing.  That said, I simply love to run; fast, slow, early, late, I love it all, and always will.