Running an Olympic Trials qualifying time in the marathon has been a goal of mine for the past two years. Last fall, just as I was feeling the fittest I had ever felt, I was thwarted by a sudden pelvic injury. The injury left me frustrated that I had been denied the chance to run the time I wanted to run. It also left me unsure of whether the hard training and dedication was worth it. Why put so much time and emotion into something that broke me? At the time, all I wanted was to regain the simple joy of going out for an easy run. Fast forward through five months of physical therapy and cross training to post-injury status: I was back on the marathon training grind and determined to run the time I knew I could.

Last weekend I ran the Hartford Marathon in Connecticut. I stepped to the line excited and confident. My training hadn’t been perfect, but it never is. After months of anticipation and uncertainty, the day was here. I was ready to jump into the unknown and finally go for it.

Certain moments as a runner remind you why you love this sport so much. These moments make you feel powerful, unstoppable, and elated. As I crossed the finish line at Hartford in a time of 2:42:15, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of joy, relief, and glee. I was greeted with open arms by the woman I had run most of the race with, who had also just run her goal time. I quickly found my tearfully grinning parents, the people who have fostered my love of being active outside since day one. Soon I was being wrapped in hugs by running camp friends – all of whom ran their own PRs that day! Crying, laughing, and sharing the moment with these people made it all the more special and real.

As I walked away from the Hartford Marathon in a happy daze, I tried to pin-point why I felt so completely filled with joy. What is it that makes so many of us run marathons and half marathons and 5ks? Why do we wake up in early pre-dawn dark to get our weekly workouts in? It’s clear that running and racing has a mysterious mystical hold over all of us. But what is it that brings us to the starting line, and keeps us coming back despite hurdles?

There are many, many reasons. For me, still in my post-Hartford daze, it comes down to two contrasting principles:

1) Pushing myself in a way that is completely my own – my body, my mind, my goals, my lessons learned, and my motivation. Being able to put myself out there – willingly, knowingly, fearfully – and racing because it’s important to me. It’s about that pure, stripped-down thrill of stepping to the starting line, ready to find out what I am capable of that day.

2) Connecting with people through the pain and the beauty of our sport. The friendships I have made and continue to make through running, training, and racing are among my strongest, most meaningful relationships. Though we all may step to the starting line for different reasons, together we share an unspoken understanding of and respect for the mystical power that draws us there.

Myself and my people. That’s what running and racing has given me. Near and far, I want to extend gratitude to everyone who has been there with me on runs, in races, at camps, through injury, and over mountains. Thank you for creating and sharing so many running adventures with me. It wouldn’t mean anything or be possible without you.

Running to Race