Philly Marathon 2010. Mile 7 on Chestnut St.
This weekend marks 10 years since my first marathon – Philadelphia Marathon, 2010. This milestone truly has me feeling all the feels. I’m not sure if part of it is the pandemic and the pause on races, or simply the incredibly large role running now plays in my life, but looking back at where I started, what went into that first 26.2 training, and where I’ve gone – it’s quite the journey.
I want to start by saying THANK YOU. Thank you to a community, to race directors, volunteers, and fellow runners. I was incredibly intimidated of race culture and didn’t race for a long time because I didn’t think I belonged. Running and racing can truly be for ALL of us, and I’m so grateful the industry is so kind and supportive. A big thank you has to go to Ben Hauck, who was there in the very beginning. He never put a thought of doubt in my mind when I said “I’m going to run Philly Marathon, and qualify for Boston.” He nurtured my love for that first training cycle, and always supported my attitude of it being possible. An epic thank you to Chris, who has supported my running goals, career change to become a coach, and my insane undertakings like 24-hour Ultras in oppressive Philly summer weather. My family, few of whom identify or understand the bizarre world of racing, for continuing to support me and my quest for what makes me happy.
Frankfurt Marathon 2017. Fighting for my current PR: 3:03:21.
The marathon. That first one felt like the day I grew into myself – my confidence, my view on my body, my ability to tackle big things and take a major leap. However, while it feels like that race was the “big bang” moment for me, the truth is all of that adaption happened during the months of training. Race day was when it was simply realized.
Since that first marathon, that 3:32:33 finish, with a smile on my face and in my heart for the final 10K (crazy, I know), my legs have taken me to countless starting lines around the world, in varying climates, tackling various distances. In the 20 marathons I’ve run to date, some have been 100% about fighting the clock. I thrive on challenging myself. Others have been in the role of pacer and support for others – my partner, sister, clients and friends. I’ve also run 26.2 miles a handful of times for pure fun – twice at Disney with mouse ears strapped to my head, for example. I have vivid (and mostly good) memories from all of them. There have been those marathons that have gutted me. A DNF, horrendous weather, going out WAY too hard and hitting the wall, a day when things just didn’t click, the finish line of Boston Marathon 2013 – witnessing firsthand the bombs going off. Those bad experiences stand next to the great ones, all of which I am grateful for.
Through the past 10 years, I have felt my body adapt to training, and the ebb and flow with the seasons and cycles. I’ve had the insane honor of racing with an elite bib twice, have set a few course records, and won a handful of half marathons. I’ve also been that runner dry-heaving on the course, or struggling hardcore just to finish. Our humanity is tested and showcased when we line up to race. The longer the distance, the more “wild cards” there are. I’ve made some rookie mistakes, I’ve had some dumb luck, and I’ve ultimately learned that those successful days truly come from when preparation meet opportunity.
With my parents and sister, who flew to be present for my first elite bib. St. George Marathon, 2018.
As a coach, it’s been the gift of a lifetime to support, educate and assist others as they tackle their goals. My athletes give me such pride. I am so humbled to have their goals and trust in me. It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly, and so I continue to add certifications, seminars, and books to my arsenal. I truly believe I should never stop learning.
Thank you, Philly Marathon 2010. My entire life has changed as a direct result of that day and the many miles that led to it. Here’s to the next ten years!
Your marathon story is quite inspiring. Thank you so much