Every medal tells a story. Early mornings. Cold starts. Long runs with friends. Training plans that didn’t always go perfectly — but always moved me forward.
I didn’t run for medals. I ran for the version of myself that kept showing up.
🏃♀️ My Running Journey
My relationship with running didn’t start with races — it started early in the morning, in community.
In 1989, I began my first formal exercise routine at the YMCA, showing up at 5:00 a.m. alongside a committed group of women. We met before work, before families were awake, and before the day made excuses for us. Those mornings weren’t about speed or distance — they were about consistency, accountability, and encouragement.
That early-morning rhythm built more than strength. It built confidence.
From Community to Races
As our fitness grew, so did our goals. That same group eventually began training together for 5Ks, 10Ks, and half marathons. Running became less about exercise and more about shared purpose — long runs, conversations, laughter, and the quiet pride that came from doing something hard together.
In 2004, I began running more intentionally and over time completed approximately 10 half marathons, along with multiple 5Ks and 10Ks, often using shorter races as part of half-marathon training cycles.
One of my most memorable experiences was traveling for a race — completing the Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon in Scottsdale, Arizona in 2009. Crossing that finish line far from home, medal in hand, was unforgettable.
Closer to home, I ran the Mickelson Trail Half Marathon three times. Those races stand out not just for the miles, but for the joy of having my family waiting for me at the finish line — a reminder that running had become part of our shared life.
Where I Am Now
Today, I no longer train for half marathons — and that feels right.
Running has evolved into something simpler and more sustainable. I now run 2–4 miles, about five days a week, focusing on consistency, mental clarity, and long-term health rather than race bibs or finish times.
Running is no longer about medals — it’s about:
Honoring the habit that started years ago
Moving my body in ways that feel good now
Protecting my health for the future
What began at 5 a.m. in a small community became a lifelong practice — one that continues to ground me, challenge me, and remind me that movement doesn’t have to be extreme to be meaningful.
