A Story of Courage, Commitment, and 26.2 Miles

This is Sonya Harrington, and she is a marathoner. Sonya (1)

Of course, that wasn’t always the case for Sonya. Just 7 short months ago, she showed up at a Fall Marathon Informational Meeting at Fleet Feet Sports in Schererville, Indiana to gather details on what it would take to complete 18 weeks of training to prepare to run the Chicago Marathon.

Many “would be” first time marathoners come to these meetings, but after seeing the intense amount of training that is required to successfully complete a marathon…never come back – only Sonya did come back, and that is where her journey began.

Continue reading “A Story of Courage, Commitment, and 26.2 Miles”

Inside the Mind of an Endurance Athlete

Endurance – the ability to continue with an unpleasant or difficult situation, experience, or activity over a long period of time.

Sounds simple, right? Some describe it as becoming comfortable with being uncomfortable. Marathoners, Ultra Marathoners, Ironmen and Ironwomen, and others who push their bodies past the normal limits of exhaustion, for hours and sometimes days, are a truly unique breed of athletes.

“I’m a distance runner. I’ve been trained to keep going, even when it’s hard, when it hurts, when it sucks, when I don’t want to. I look past it. Relentless forward progress to the finish. Call it what you want; stubbornness, endurance, determination, guts. Deep down, I don’t know how to give up.”

Half of one percent of the U.S. population has completed a marathon (26.2 miles). Sounds crazy doesn’t it? It is, but think about foot races that cover 50, 100, 150, 200 miles, and more.

Then there are Ironman events which feature a 2.4 mile swim immediately followed by a 112 mile bike ride, followed by a full marathon. That’s over 170 miles back-to-back-to-back. Better yet, how about a double Ironman, or a triple length Ironman? Are you sensing the crazy yet?

These are distances that will keep athletes on their feet from multiple hours, to days at a time with little to no rest.

The average finish time for a 100 mile run is just over 28 hours. The average finish for an Ironman (140.6 total miles) is just over 15 hours. Some of the world’s best ultra marathoners will finish a 200 mile race in around 61 hours, while some of the mid-packers will come in closer to 85-90 hours. If your math is rusty, that’s about 3 1/2 days.

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” – T.S. Eliot

When I say the words “endurance athlete”, it may bring to mind images of the most elite athletes, olympians and such but those aren’t the athletes that I am referring to. Sure, there are elite endurance runners who crush these races, but I’m actually talking about the everyday athlete. The men and women who have real jobs and families to support, who aren’t paid with endorsements. Those are the ones who inspire me because they are the ones who are up and out of the door at 4 or 5 am to log miles in the dark hours of the morning.

The majority of these people will never taste victory and stand on a podium at an ultra endurance event, yet they do it anyway. What sets them apart from the crowd? What drives them to put in the work for months and years on end, only to show up and place 40th in a field of 100?

As you might imagine, a large part of successfully training for and competing in endurance events is an extreme mental focus. Most everyday endurance athletes will tell you that there is nothing exceptional about their physical abilities, in fact many would not have considered themselves to be athletic as kids and young adults. It’s all about their mindset. They aren’t content with the status quo in most areas of life, which gives them an internal drive to push their limits over and over again.

Most endurance racers also have a higher than average pain threshold. I’m not talking in the sense of a Ripley’s Believe It or Not type of pain threshold, but they do have an innate ability to manage pain. When pain sets in, and it always does, they can deal with it in a way that allows them to continue on in spite of the burning pain coursing through their body. They are also able to ignore their mind when it is imploring them to stop.

“Pushing your body past what you thought it was capable of is easy;
the hard part is pushing yourself even further” – Rex Pearce

They are willing to take risks and are completely ok with possibility of failure. Signing up for an ultra marathon takes moxie, and lots of it. Showing up to the starting line and staring fear in the face takes more than that, it takes a bit of delusional confidence as well. It isn’t about arrogance, but it is about having a high level of confidence in yourself and a belief that you can accomplish seemingly impossible feats.

They are some of the most resilient and persistent people on the planet. They expect setbacks and even welcome them. Setbacks offer endurance athletes the chance to improve their mental and physical capacities. Every obstacle offers a chance for conquest.

“We had seen God in his splendour…. We had reached the naked soul of man.”
-Ernest Shackleton

They are able to maintain an intense level of focus for extremely long periods of time. Some people wonder what these athletes think about during these long bouts of competition. While that answer may differ from person to person, the prevailing answer is that they are focused on the task at hand. They are thinking about keeping the proper pace, ingesting the right amount of calories, staying up to date with their hydration levels, and remaining in tune with their body, only they are doing this over the course of hours or days.

They are okay with being alone with their own thoughts. As you may imagine, it can get lonely after awhile. Depending on the event, hours can pass without seeing another person and sometimes they are forging ahead into the cold, black expanse of nothingness…alone. If they weren’t comfortable being in a self-imposed solitary confinement, things could get really ugly (and sometimes it still does).

Sports Psychologist, Frank Farely says that “they tire quickly of everyday things, and their only remedy is to take on the next challenge, hoping for more stimulation.”

In addition to this assessment, Farley also commented that most of these athlete’s maintained similar characteristics in that they’re independent thinkers and methodical about goal-setting. They also tend to believe that they control their own destiny in the sense of successes and failures. They’re typically energetic and innovative, which is why so many are tend to be entrepreneurs.

“Ultrarunners understand, perhaps better than anyone, that the doors to the spirit will swing open with physical effort. In running such long and taxing distances they answer a call from the deepest realms of their being – a call that asks who they are.”  -David Blaikie

Endurance athletes are used to being called crazy, psychotic, and host of other names by those who don’t understand their passion.

They are a special breed, bound by the love of exploration of not only their body and mind, but also of this incredible planet that we call home. They consider moderation to be boring and therefore exhaust themselves in the pursuit of getting more out of life.

They’re entrepreneurs, doctors, school teachers, nurses, construction workers, CEO’s, and janitors. They are everyday people with an extraordinary mindset. Ultra-runners and endurance athletes are a rare and unique breed…and they’re okay with that.

Coming Down: The Black Dog

Last weekend, the race that I had been training for came and went. Months upon months of training culiminated and evaporated into a single fantastic flash.

When I crossed the finish line, I was elated and I rode that unbelievable high for a few days. Now as the buzz is almost gone, I’ve already started thinking about what’s next.

Some refer to this come down as The Black Dog.


The phrase is often traced back to Winston Churchill who suffered from intense bouts of depression throughout his life. The phrase though, can be traced back well beyond Churchill.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t like standing near the edge of a platform when an express train is passing through. I like to stand right back and if possible get a pillar between me and the train. I don’t like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second’s action would end everything. A few drops of desperation.” – Winston Churchill

Churchill often referred to these depressive states as being visited by the black dog. Coming down so quickly from a life-changing event leaves you a bit breathless. It also leaves you a bit dejected and in search of your next high.

Something happens during the training that goes with endurance events. It’s almost unnoticeable while it’s happening, but somewhere during all of the miles, the trails, the rain, the snow, early mornings, cold winds, and the people who share all of these brutally glorious hours with you, something transforms your soul. You bond with people who share a love of endurance sports, you push past limits again and again.

It’s an amazing growth process that’s propelling you toward a demon that you must somehow conquer. All the while, there are doubts and there are fears but the thought of a new distance, of a new personal record, a new adventure in unfamiliar territory drives you harder and longer to keep going.

You find purpose and meaning in all of the craziness of this world. You become a friend to yourself and begin to actually like the person that you are. All of this, all of these moments replay in your mind during the race.

You think about the miles and the pain that you endured to get here. You feel the strength in your legs and the air in your lungs, all developed in those early mornings and late nights spent beating your body into a steel wheel.

It’s what gets you through; the training allows you to accomplish these amazing feats and then suddenly as you make the final turn to the finish, you hear the cheers, the clapping, and you see those who shared this awesome journey…and then in a matter of minutes, it’s over.


There are hours of relishing in the accomplishment and then as the cars leave the parking lot, and the voices fade, the black dog begins to pursue you. He knows that your spirit has been stripped bare.

At first, he’s only a faint shadow and then as the hours and days pass, his breath becomes audible and his eyes pierce the deepest recesses of your soul.

He pursues you with the thirst of a thousand deserts, waiting for a chance to sink his teeth into your heart. His growl becomes deeper and his footsteps quicken. If given the chance, he will drag you down to the depths of a black screaming abyss.

“Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern. Just the slow erosion of the self, as insidious as any cancer. And, like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience. A room in hell with only your name on the door.” – Martha Manning

In order to avoid the black dog, we start to look for the next challenge. From the outside, people think we are crazy. They think we’re adrenaline junkies. They can’t hear the black dog and they can’t see that he’s on our heels.

Some of us have been in that abyss and we will do whatever it takes to never return. The abyss is where we lose ourselves – where nothing makes sense – and where confusion infiltrates the calmness of our every thought.

I won’t go back there. I can’t. I’ll keep pushing forward with a relentless passion to escape the unpleasant aromas of a hollow life.

100 Kilometers- 62.1 Miles of Brutal Determination. 

“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” – William Barclay

3 days ago, I sat on the edge of a hotel bed scared out of my mind; afraid of the task that was ahead of me. Laying out equipment and gear in preparation for a 62.1 mile trail race through the Kistachie National Forest, I tried my best to fight back my fears of failure.


My brother was across the room looking cool, calm, and collected. He had been through this process before and now I needed his guidance and his confident spirit, both at that moment and for the next 16 hours.

I knew there would be countless physical and mental obstacles in our quest to conquer a seemingly impossible feat. The mental hurdles would not wait for the start of the race, they had already started their unrelenting assault on my mind. 

Our plan was to get a few restless hours of sleep the afternoon before race day and then try our best to sleep the night before, which we both knew would be next to impossible. Wake up time would arrive with a energetic beep of the alarm at 3:30 AM.


The next two hours were a blur of coffee, running attire, bags of gear and food (that could have kept us alive for at least two weeks in any wilderness setting), a 45 minute drive into the woods of NW Louisiana, and enough pre-race jitters to fill an ocean.

Getting to the starting line would soon prove to be the easiest part of the journey.

The best piece of advice that I received was to picture the start of the run as the entrance of a long tunnel, and the only way out was through the other side. I pictured that tunnel in my mind at least a dozen times during our run.

The difference in the advice and reality is that the tunnel has several escape hatches along the way; it would be our own determined choice to resist the urge to open them and continue pushing forward.

As a small group of fellow Ultramarathon hopefuls gathered at the starting line, I could literally feel the residual adrenaline rolling down my skin. The moment that we had all trained for, sacrificed so much time and energy for, and ran thousands of training miles for, was finally here.

The clock struck 6 AM and it was on. It was time to attempt the unthinkable; to test my mind, body, and spirit, and ask them to take me much farther than I had ever asked before. If they weren’t up to the challenge, it would fall on my shoulders and nobody else’s. My brother was with me, but completing this race was up to me.

For the first hour and a half, we would be running in the dark while awaiting the arrival of daybreak. Headlamps in place, off we went. We knew that we would encounter around 5,500 feet of elevation gain via a varied terrain of soft sand, hard-packed red dirt, rock, and multiple water crossings.

The weather was perfect for running, with temperatures rising from the mid-30’s to around 55 degrees by the afternoon. Our first goal was to finish, just don’t quit. Our second goal was to finish in under 16 hours.

As light pierced the treetops, we were hitting our stride nicely and feeling good. Making a conscious effort to maintain an easy pace – power hiking the up hills and running the downhills and flats just as we had planned. The sandy uphills were by far the biggest challenge of the first 31 mile loop. Treading soft sand takes a toll on your lower legs and fatigues them faster than usual.

Our shoes and socks were taking on sand likes sinking boat takes on water. At the 18 mile aid station, our drop bags awaited us. We quickly scarfed down as many calories as we could, emptied the sand from our shoes, lubed our feet, changed our socks, and off we went.

Each 31-mile loop had around 2,800 feet of elevation gain which was mostly front-loaded in the first 20 miles. This was a welcomed relief for the last third of the loop because we were able to run most of it. We made up quite a bit of the time we lost trudging through the sandy uphills.

Our sights were set on finishing the first loop, getting another round of calories down, taking care of our feet, and getting through the first 10 miles of the second loop before dark.

Then, at around mile 28, my brother’s IT Band flared up and began causing him a great deal of added discomfort. I silently worried if it would be too much for him to deal with, but he kept going. He would have to fight through that grueing pain for another 8 plus hours to finish.

We made it through the first loop mostly in tact. We topped off our water bottles and stuffed our race packs with as many calories as it would hold. One side note: Ryan grabbed a bag of mini-snickers bars as part of our stock-up trip before the race. What a godsend that was! Nothing is more delicious and energy-packed than a mini-snickers bar in the middle of nowhere.


Mis-remembering the first 10 miles of the loop as being all sand and uphill, we were actually surprised to find that this section was a bit easier than we recalled. Then…we found the difficult section. Having already covered 41 miles, we were feeling the painful burn in our legs and the hot spots on our feet more than ever.

Everything ached and the miles were not going down as quickly as before. Now the hills and terrain came at us with a new intensity. One that the trail had not shown in the beginning. This was hell.

Our only focus became making it to the drop bag at mile 49 before we lost daylight. We began moving with a hurried intensity of run-hike-run. My toes were numb, my legs were screaming, and my mind was fighting me with everything it had.

We made it to the drop bag 10 minutes before dark. It was a good chance to get some carb-loaded calories down. Again, we changed our socks, threw our headlights on, refilled our water bottles, and we were off. 13 miles to go. We weren’t racing the clock, we were racing our will to succeed.

This would prove to be the longest 13 miles of my life. As the darkness set in, so did the thoughts of quitting. Your mind is such a powerful tool that when it’s working against you, it becomes a struggle of internal fortitude.

Thoughts of “how bad do you want this” get replaced with thoughts of “why are you doing this?”

It all begins and ends in your mind. What you give power to has power over you. – Leon Brown

As we began the last stretch of the race, there was dark calm of nothingness surrounding us. I would look to the woods in hope of finding some sort of strength, only to find a blank expanse of uselessness.

My mind was pleading with me to stop moving. I became quiet, fighting an internal battle of self-discipline and self-loathing. This was no longer a trail race, it was a fight.

As I looked at my brother, he was wrestling with his own demons – his IT Band was screaming in full throat but he was moving with an unwavering purpose. He wasn’t going to quit, no matter what. The look in his eyes and the purposefulness of his steps gave me the strength I was searching for.

A wave of emotion washed over me at mile 54 and tears were flowing down my face, only I had no idea why. Maybe it was a silent victory over my mind, a reminiscent feeling of always looking to him for guidance and direction – and realizing that after 37 years, that he was still there to give it.

8 miles to go and we now we exchange a silent gaze. Let’s do this. Power through. Everything you have.

We began to shuffle our feet, and then we’re running. We’ve got two hours to the finish. God it hurts! It hurts to run, it hurts to walk, and it hurts to stop. Keep moving. One foot in front of the other until it’s over.

As we round a corner, we begin to smell the familiar fragrance of a campfire. Hope returns and our faces both express smiles. The crowd at the finish line can see our headlights making their way through the forest and they begin to cheer. We crossed the finish line! 62.1 miles of agony and 62.1 miles of sweet glory!


This is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and the fact that I did it step for step with my big brother makes it that much sweeter.


We stared fear in the face and we kicked its ass. To my brother; thank you for always being there to shoulder the load. To my wife; thank you for letting me do this crazy shit. To everyone reading this; don’t ever back down from fear. You’re stronger than you could ever imagine. Don’t ever be afraid to challenge yourself!

30,000 Feet of Perspective

3 months ago, my brother asked me to run a 100 kilometer trail race with him near our birthplace in Louisiana. I hem hawed around for a month or so, unwilling to commit. I had just completed two marathons within a month of each other after spending the majority of the summer and fall training, but 100 kilometers? 62.1 miles?! That was a different story altogether. I am usually not one to shy away from seemingly impossible tasks, but this one was different. In the past, I have set difficult goals but they were goals that were mostly doable and even if I missed, I had the confidence that I would at least get close to accomplishing them.

This one though…this was one of those things that seemed so far outside of my realm of possibility, that it actually posed a more serious opportunity to fail and fail big. I had never run anything more than a 50 kilometer race (31 miles) and this was double that distance and even more daunting, probably15-20 hours of non-stop movement on my feet. Do I have the willpower to do this? Am I physically and mentally capable of covering 62 miles of trail? Is my life insurance paid up? Actually, that was my wife’s question.

After a lot of debate and even more questions of my sanity, I decided to commit and at least give it a shot. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Death, actually. Death could happen. My brother calmed that fear though assuring me that I would pass out first. Thanks bro. My brother is a much more experienced trail and ultra-runner, so I would need to lean on him for that experience and knowledge if I had even a chance of succeeding at this challenge.

Fast-forward a couple of months, and I am on a plane headed to Texas – then Louisiana via car to the Kisatchie National Forest. What the hell was I thinking? Seriously! The race is 36 hours away and I have no idea how this will turn out. I consider myself to be a determined and strong-willed person who is in more than decent running shape, but the doubts are swirling.

This is life though, right? We prepare the best we can for it, but in reality we have no idea what tomorrow holds. If the future brings obstacles that require determination and discipline to overcome, how will we react? I will tell you how; by giving it everything we’ve got and refusing to quit. That’s big talk from 30,000 feet up, but in 36 hours, it will be time to step up and put my will to the ultimate test.

Stay tuned…

Endurance Runners: Why They Do It

Endurance Runners: A special breed of men and women who push themselves to their physical and mental limits, and then push even harder.

They drive themselves to the brink of complete exhaustion and then go even further. They train to endure, to outlast; not the competition but themselves. Long after most would have quit, they continue on with an unquenchable thirst for more. More pain, more agony, more suffering. It is in this pain that they discover who they really are.

Their tanks are never empty. They always have more. When they run out of strength, they are able to dig deeper than most to find that little extra drop of determined courage to continue. Their minds are unharnessed by the limitations of mortality and their hearts are free from the strain and pressure of societal conformity. The quest to find meaning in their existence stretches far beyond fatigue. In fact, fatigue is only the starting point.

Everyone understands fatigue, but most never tap into the innermost recesses of their spirit to discover the inner grit and determination to push past fatigue.
If they were to venture into this abyss of mental and physical anguish, they too would understand that life is more rewarding when we explore these dark and remote corners of our soul.

For them, there is no end…no finish line. There’s only more to challenge and discover.

“The cure for the pain is in the pain” – Rumi

Most people wait for the feelings of fear, sorrow and misery to find them (and it does find all of us), but endurance runners seek them out. They know that the only way to beat them is to face them head on.

When you ask, “why do you put yourself through this?”, you’ll often hear them say “I can’t explain it to you”. They’re not saying this to be pretentious…no, endurance runners are far from egotistical.

They’re saying it because they know that the only way you’d ever understand it would be by putting yourself in those same dark and lonely places of the soul and fighting your way out. There are important lessons to be learned in the pain of life. Don’t wait for it to find you. Seek to find it, understand it, fight through it and learn from it.

Running Is Life

Running has taught me how to deal with life; the struggles, the triumphs and defeats. Running is the truest metaphor of life. I no longer try to avoid pain and adversity; instead, I go looking for it. I purposely seek them out because I know that every obstacle that I overcome makes me stronger.If you allow it to, running will teach you how to overcome adversity. It will make you stronger, reveal your true identity, and build character. It will build you into a fighter.

Running Blog Pic
Running will teach you to work for success, to keep going when you’re tired, and to push past self-imposed limits. Running will teach you that shortcuts don’t exist and it will give back 100% of everything that you give it. Running is energy. It’s a terrible, fantastic, miserable, and invigorating sport. It will make you hate yourself, then it will teach how to love yourself and others in a completely new way. Running doesn’t discriminate; it welcomes everyone the same. It’s always there, waiting for you to embrace its pain and to welcome its rewards.

Running will never judge you; it understands that you will have good days and bad. It knows your every weakness, but it wants to make you strong. It knows your fears, but it wants to give you courage. It knows your negative thoughts, but it wants to help you achieve your dreams. Run slow. Run fast. Run long. Run short. Run with friends. Run solo. Run when you’re tired. Run when you’re energized. Whatever, whenever, just run.

 

 

 

 

Running on a Plane

Flying over the unknown en route to Tucson. A trip that, less than a year ago would’ve seemed odd, or at least toward the bottom of this guy’s bucket list. I mean, what’s in Tucson, besides sweltering temps that make you feel like you’ve driven deathly close to the sun and maybe some cacti? Cacti, I’ve always wanted to use that word in my writing. Anyway, so here we are, 32,000 feet above the clouds in a piece of winged-aluminum going really, really fast headed for a daring adventure (okay, not really all that daring). We have actually had the trip planned for months. I’m a planner; it’s what I do.

A few years back, I stumbled into this crazy sport called running. After getting out of the military in 2002, I led a pretty sedentary lifestyle for a few years. In doing so, I put on a few (45) pounds over the course of two years. Then one Sunday, I couldn’t button my pants…again and I became disgusted with myself. I spent a week wallowing in self-pity wondering how the “fatness” had happened so quickly. No one intentionally seeks to become overweight, but it can happen to the best of us if we aren’t careful. By the way, this wasn’t just about being fat; it was that I had slipped into a very unhealthy lifestyle of bad eating habits, a general lack of physical activity, and well…beer.

That kind of a lifestyle can put you on the wrong side of a belt buckle in a hurry. So one Sunday, after waving goodbye to another pair of khaki cargo pants, I decided that it was time to make a change. That’s when my commitment to a healthier lifestyle began. In 2005, I began the long journey of weight loss and exercise. After a few weeks, I found that I actually enjoyed working out, especially weightlifting. In less than 18 months, I had dropped almost 50 pounds and was in the best physical shape of my life. The problem with lifting, for me, was that it was never enough. I lifted 5 to 6 days per week and the weight that I worked out with got heavier and heavier. I was addicted. Then in 2011, I began having problems with my joints and was constantly rehabbing some body part, tendon, or muscle.

Weightlifting started to lose its attractiveness to me because I realized that I was working for something that would never have a reward. The only reward was looking good in tank tops (that’s a selfish goal). I didn’t have the drive to want to compete, so where would it ever take me? What other fulfillment could I get from it? I couldn’t answer those questions and really began wrestling with my commitment. As the tendonitis and joint pain increased in frequency and intensity, I knew that I had to do something different. I needed a new outlet. Cue the shorty shorts and get me a visor.

After a heart-to-heart conversation with my brother, one of the best motivators (and salesman) that I know, I was introduced once again to the idea of running. Admittedly, my first thoughts of running harkened me back to 6 am Physical Training runs in the military. I loved the military, except for those early morning runs (styling in cotton shirts and shorts). If I hated running then, why in the world would I take this up as a new hobby? I mean let’s be honest, running sucks…or at least it can. Remember all of that, my brother is a great salesman talk? Yeah, he’s also extremely persistent. The problem was that he lived in Dallas (that’s a long way from Chicago). So if I were going to take up this new “awesome” habit, it would have to be on my on or so I thought.

I did go on a few runs by myself at first, but soon found that they were all around me. You know, those crazy runner people. I had never encountered one up close, but all of a sudden they were everywhere…everywhere! They were neighbors, friends of friends, co-workers (one even stumbled out of a porta-john during one of my first early morning runs). There was literally a store, completely devoted to runners, less than a mile from my house! Seriously, how had I been so blind? I’ll tell you how. It’s because running can really blow and it can also intimidate the heck out of you. People shy away from it because they associate it with punishment and pain learned in gym class, or after baseball practice. Most people think runners are crazy (that’s actually true), but it’s not a Charles Manson kind of crazy; it’s more like a Marilyn Monroe-John F. Kennedy relationship kind of crazy.

Anyway, so my brother sold me on giving this running thing a shot, so I did. I went for a few easy runs alone and not only did I not die, I actually really kind of enjoyed it (not the first mile though…no one ever enjoys the first mile). Then I started to meet others who loved the sport and asked me to come along on a few longer runs. I developed a consistent habit of pushing myself out of the door and every time I did, it got a little easier. After a few months, I was up to 6 and 7 mile Saturday runs and that’s when it happened; the hook, my friends. A dear friend of mine had signed up for a half-marathon, but couldn’t run it because of an unfortunate injury. When she realized that I had gotten my base mileage to a certain point, she called and asked if I would be open to running in her place. I nervously, but graciously accepted her offer. After a couple of more months of training with some friends, I stepped to the starting line and had the time of my life. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but I loved it!

The hook still has me, only now I have many races including half-marathons, full marathons, and even a 50k under my belt. Which is why I am on a plane right now somewhere over the Southwest United States. I am flying to Tucson to get my coaching certification through Road Runners Club of America (RRCA). I will also be coaching the marathon program for Fleet Feet Schererville this summer. When I look back, it is like an absolute whirlwind. I am not sure I can even tell you how I got here, but I couldn’t be more excited about the future!