Monday, December 31, 2012
Happy New Year!
Goals, resolutions, changes... Call it what you will, but it's that time of year. Time to assess the past twelve months & plan for the next twelve.
I'll be honest I have never put much stock in resolutions. I try to not set myself up to fail, but this year has not ended the way I wanted it to so I think I need to stop making excuses and change my thinking! You only fail if you allow yourself to not reach the goals you've set. I personally have been doing that for far too long.
My goal this year is to be healthy in mind and body... To be nicer to myself because I deserve it regardless of my size.
I hope all (12) of you do the same. Happy New Year.
PS... To kick things off I ran for 45 minutes on the treadmill today!
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Finding Peace
Have you ever sat in the parking lot at Walgreens and eaten an entire party size bag of M&Ms? I have. Have you ever eaten an entire box of ice cream sandwiches before dinner? Yes, I have. Eaten the entire bag of Halloween candy you brought in to "share" with the office? Check. Hidden in your office so no one sees what you're having for lunch? Yes. Thrown a slice of pizza into the trash in an attempt to stop the feeding frenzy only to retrieve it later and eat it while burning with shame and disgust. I've done this far more times than I care to admit.
I could go on... and on and on actually. I think you get the picture though. This is a binge and this is what the last six or seven weeks of my life have looked like. I never thought I'd be here again, caught in this cycle of using food to punish myself.
Over the last 10 months I got SKINNY, I mean really, really skinny. I'll leave out the exact number, but when I dipped below 100 I was alarmed. Then I was excited. I felt like one of those waifish models that dominated the runways during Kate Moss's heyday... granted most of them were hooked on heorin but I felt powerful. Then again I felt helpless at the same time. Every time I stepped on the scale my stomach clenched and my heart skipped a beat, I was a prisoner once again to the number it displayed. While my husband lamented the loss of my boobs and my ass I still thought they were too big and agonized over every single thing I put in my body. I was wasting away in our upstairs gym morning, noon and night.
Keeping up this schedule was exhausting. Except I wasn't sleeping. It is hard to sleep when you are hopped up on caffeine. To no one's greater disappointment than my own I had started taking diet pills again. Diet pills and laxatives. I actually mixed two different kinds of diet pills, one with ephedra and one without with a twice daily serving of Dulcolax. I felt like a complete and utter failure, but I also felt helpless to stop. They worked! How could I risk stopping and putting on a few pounds? Somehow I convinced myself that gaining those few dreaded pounds was far more serious than the heart palpitations, vomiting and lack of a menstrual cycle I was (frequently) experiencing.
I'm hard pressed to say how this happened... The last year has been hard. Marriage is wonderful, except when it isn't. When it wasn't, when having a 24 year old living with us was more than I could handle, I exercised. I felt like stranger in my own home. At holidays and family gatherings I felt like an island. In my mind I had no one of my own, I was alone. My parents now had grandchildren, my sister had her husband and daughters. Kenny had his children. Last year on Christmas Day they sat outside in our hot tub reminiscing about Christmas Days gone by while I eavesdropped and pounded out step after step on the stairmaster in our gym overlooking the backyard.
My life was so tightly tied to my exercise that it trumped all else. I could not go anywhere or do anything without exercising first. If that activity involved food or alcohol then I doubled my cardio and cut my calories to save up for the extra I'd use as a splurge meal. Exercise was no longer fun, it was a job. I stopped running. I quit by running group because it was too hard on what was left of my body. The stairmaster was easier and honestly more private. As much as I like being skinny, I was worried sane people would think I looked disgusting. Pretty twisted.
Something was bound to give eventually. I'd gone 3 years without a significant binge and while I was proud of this, I had monitored and structured myself into dangerous territory. When the damn broke it didn't crack, it collapsed. I haven't stopped eating since and I have barely lifted a finger to exercise...
45 pounds later I'm back at square one with only a black pair of leggings and a few big sweaters.
I want to get better. I want to lose the weight, but I know I have to find peace first. Recently I was asked to list the things I liked about myself. I could think if very few things. The one physical attribute I am happy with are my feet. They're cute... So I'm most confident about my feet. Additionally I asked some family & friends to also write their own lists. My goal is to get myself into a place where I believe the incredibly wonderful things they wrote...
I want to be the person they see me to be because they see me, not my weight.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Going Out Too Fast
"Going out too fast" is a commonly heard phrase in the world of running. For non-runners it is when you just kill it in the first part of what is going to be a long run and leave yourself with no reserves for the finish... I've done this in races and I think I did it with running in general.
We know I love running. Over the past year I fell in love with how running made me feel physically and emotionally. I loved these feelings so much that I became obsessed with feeling them so I ran at every opportunity. I signed up for every race, attended track workouts and running groups, everything... until August. I can pinpoint the exact day when I was just spent. I had a long run scheduled on a Saturday morning and the night before I was at a party with family and friends. Instead of enjoying myself all I could focus on was how much water I was drinking, what time we had to leave so I could be up before it got too hot, where would I run to get in a full 13 miles. The next morning I didn't go. Then on Sunday I didn't go... and until October 16th on the day I was supposed to run a marathon I didn't do a single run longer than 7 miles. I couldn't.
Last February, still on a high from my newly discovered hobby I signed up for a marathon. Everyone I had met through running had done at least one or was training to do one. I figured that meant I had to do it too. So I paid the entry fee and posted on my facebook status that I was going to be doing the Newport Marathon in October 2011. Apparently the theory is if you tell everyone then you can't back out, I proved that theory wrong but I'll get to that... I kept running through the winter and spring and I was really improving and having a blast. I met so many great people and accomplished things that made me feel really good about myself. I even spent a weekend in a van with strangers and no shower running around New England. Truly a feat as I'm not big on going places without my husband or my hairdryer.
When summer hit it was time to start a 16 week training program in preparation for the big day. I laid out a plan, taped it in my journal and joined a group at Fleet Feet doing long runs on the weekends. I've written previously about my struggles during the summer so this might be familiar and repetitive. Basically I ran too much, I over committed myself and ran myself into the ground. Dramatic yes, but it's the truth. Running became a chore, one I was now dreading every Friday night as I watched my friends have drinks and dinner outside while I sipped water and went to bed early. My commitment to the ladies on Monday and Wednesday waned as well which was a huge disappointment to me because they were (and are) such a huge part of why I loved running. I just couldn't get up the energy to go anymore, it was so much easier to work out at home. The more I skipped out on things the worse I felt and the further I drifted from my goal of a marathon.
With about four weeks to go, my miles were nowhere near where they should have been going into a 26.2 mile race. I was panicked. I feverishly googled four week training programs, I tweeted Ask Miles from Runners World for advice. When he told me run the half instead I started a twitter fight with him. Yeah, not my proudest cyber moment! I tried to pick up the plan I had originally chosen from the week I should have been on and it was too much. Don't get me wrong, I was in great shape and was still logging about 20 miles or more a week, but that is about half the mileage needed.
I am my own worst enemy. I always have been, often setting myself up for disappointment so the choice to run a half marathon instead of a full marathon felt like a failure to me. While it was the safest and most rational choice given the point I was at, it was an incredibly hard decision. First was the feeling of failure. I had set a goal and I wasn't reaching it while countless others around me were achieving marathon status. I was letting my friends and family down especially my husband who had stood at countless finish lines, dried more tears than a 34 year old woman should shed about running and encouraged me any way he could to just run. Then my parents and my sister, brother in law and niece who had all booked (expensive) hotel rooms to watch me run. I felt like I was disappointing them, they'd been so excited about the race. My parents both assured me they would not be upset or disappointed if I ran the half marathon, but I still wasn't there. I struggled with this decision until 10 days before the race which was the last day to make a switch.
I felt an incredible sense of relief once I made my choice. I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I definitely felt a little remorse when my running friends began to taper for the Hartford Marathon, maybe even a few twinges of jealousy that they were able to do the training and would run the race. However, it was more important to me personally to just run the race I had now chosen, the half. Just the half... that became my answer to everyone when they asked about the marathon. Just running the half, as if that wasn't enough! It's still 13.1 miles.
This is me after the race... one of the most fun races I've run and one of the best family weekends I've been fortunate to experience.
There is plenty more running to talk about... but this is good for now right?
We know I love running. Over the past year I fell in love with how running made me feel physically and emotionally. I loved these feelings so much that I became obsessed with feeling them so I ran at every opportunity. I signed up for every race, attended track workouts and running groups, everything... until August. I can pinpoint the exact day when I was just spent. I had a long run scheduled on a Saturday morning and the night before I was at a party with family and friends. Instead of enjoying myself all I could focus on was how much water I was drinking, what time we had to leave so I could be up before it got too hot, where would I run to get in a full 13 miles. The next morning I didn't go. Then on Sunday I didn't go... and until October 16th on the day I was supposed to run a marathon I didn't do a single run longer than 7 miles. I couldn't.
Last February, still on a high from my newly discovered hobby I signed up for a marathon. Everyone I had met through running had done at least one or was training to do one. I figured that meant I had to do it too. So I paid the entry fee and posted on my facebook status that I was going to be doing the Newport Marathon in October 2011. Apparently the theory is if you tell everyone then you can't back out, I proved that theory wrong but I'll get to that... I kept running through the winter and spring and I was really improving and having a blast. I met so many great people and accomplished things that made me feel really good about myself. I even spent a weekend in a van with strangers and no shower running around New England. Truly a feat as I'm not big on going places without my husband or my hairdryer.
When summer hit it was time to start a 16 week training program in preparation for the big day. I laid out a plan, taped it in my journal and joined a group at Fleet Feet doing long runs on the weekends. I've written previously about my struggles during the summer so this might be familiar and repetitive. Basically I ran too much, I over committed myself and ran myself into the ground. Dramatic yes, but it's the truth. Running became a chore, one I was now dreading every Friday night as I watched my friends have drinks and dinner outside while I sipped water and went to bed early. My commitment to the ladies on Monday and Wednesday waned as well which was a huge disappointment to me because they were (and are) such a huge part of why I loved running. I just couldn't get up the energy to go anymore, it was so much easier to work out at home. The more I skipped out on things the worse I felt and the further I drifted from my goal of a marathon.
With about four weeks to go, my miles were nowhere near where they should have been going into a 26.2 mile race. I was panicked. I feverishly googled four week training programs, I tweeted Ask Miles from Runners World for advice. When he told me run the half instead I started a twitter fight with him. Yeah, not my proudest cyber moment! I tried to pick up the plan I had originally chosen from the week I should have been on and it was too much. Don't get me wrong, I was in great shape and was still logging about 20 miles or more a week, but that is about half the mileage needed.
I am my own worst enemy. I always have been, often setting myself up for disappointment so the choice to run a half marathon instead of a full marathon felt like a failure to me. While it was the safest and most rational choice given the point I was at, it was an incredibly hard decision. First was the feeling of failure. I had set a goal and I wasn't reaching it while countless others around me were achieving marathon status. I was letting my friends and family down especially my husband who had stood at countless finish lines, dried more tears than a 34 year old woman should shed about running and encouraged me any way he could to just run. Then my parents and my sister, brother in law and niece who had all booked (expensive) hotel rooms to watch me run. I felt like I was disappointing them, they'd been so excited about the race. My parents both assured me they would not be upset or disappointed if I ran the half marathon, but I still wasn't there. I struggled with this decision until 10 days before the race which was the last day to make a switch.
I felt an incredible sense of relief once I made my choice. I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I definitely felt a little remorse when my running friends began to taper for the Hartford Marathon, maybe even a few twinges of jealousy that they were able to do the training and would run the race. However, it was more important to me personally to just run the race I had now chosen, the half. Just the half... that became my answer to everyone when they asked about the marathon. Just running the half, as if that wasn't enough! It's still 13.1 miles.
This is me after the race... one of the most fun races I've run and one of the best family weekends I've been fortunate to experience.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I'm Still Here...
Thursday, August 25, 2011
"Run" Ragged
It has been quite a few weeks since I last blogged and I blame... running. Uh oh... I think running and I are about to have our first fight.
In the last few weeks I've done a lot of running and it was literally running me into the ground. I was denying how exhausted I was because I was doing what I love and making healthy use of my time. I ignored the pain in my arch and the one in my knee. I told myself it was par for the course. I had a million excuses.
Then my friend Tiffany sent me this article which served as a desperately needed reality check. In reflecting on my life prior to reading the article I realized a few things...
I was training so hard for my marathon I was sacrificing everything else. I justified it because I'm a good runner, I won a race, I win my age group and most importantly I have a sponsor!! I have to run! God bless my amazing husband who played along with all my delusions of grandeur and managed to not laugh in my self important face. He would tell me it was okay to take a break and maybe I was overdoing it, but he supported me with out question. Well... except the time I told him I wanted to hire a coach. He said no to that!
Case in point: a group of running friends and I were graciously given admission to the Rock and Roll Providence Half Marathon by my favorite running store Fleet Feet. As a Providence College graduate I was thrilled to have this opportunity. Running in the old 'hood with a great group of friends. VIP access all around. Then we got there. I cried the night before the race, I really cried the day of the race. I almost didn't walk out of the hotel when I saw the rain coming down in sheets. I was terrified to run. Long story short I ran. I finished in 1:40:38. Oh and I cried, a lot. Why the tears? I thought my time sucked. Really sucked. I mean I was a better runner than that, I was going for 1:35. This was a total failure in my mind. As such I did not allow myself to relax and enjoy the truly great group of people I was with, I did not laugh with everyone else at the ridiculous conditions. I was devastated and embarrassed. In hindsight the embarrassing thing is that I let this behavior happen at all. The time was really good. I came in 52 out of thousands of women... I should have been proud and most importantly happy to be with my husband and friends in the city I have spent so many years loving.
When I really started to break it down I realized that I had stopped running with friends who were too competitive because God forbid they beat me! Instead of being able to be happy for the success of others, I chose to run against people I didn't know because losing to them wouldn't sting as much. Can you say selfish? I can and her name is Kate...
Then the training. A week after the 13.1 I ran a 20 mile long run which almost ended my running career. I finished the run and I felt good, I was smart about taking it slow. However all the miles prior started to take their toll quickly, but I kept running. I had weekly mileage goals to meet after all. I tried my best to meet them, but my runs were slow and sluggish. Every morning it was painful to step out of bed and I was rarely stepping out of bed in time to join my running group. I had become a bailer, a no show and ridiculously inconsistent which I hate and which made me feel incredibly guilty.
So I read the article and felt like I was reading about myself and it made me feel RIDICULOUS! Yes I am a decent runner and it is awesome to win, but the joy is in what you personally take away from the run. It's how it makes you feel, it's the sound of your feet on the pavement, it's the stress melting away and it's the person you love most waiting for you at the finish. Those are the best prizes.
Yes I run for Oiselle an apparel company run by some actual great runners Sally and Sarah, but I think they chose me to be a part of their team more because of this blog and the story of the woman behind it, not because I was going to be the next Shalane Flanagan. They liked that I was relatable and the things I achieved were within reach for all women.
Other things fell by the wayside too... I forgot a friends birthday, I feel asleep in odd places (my desk), I rejected plans with out of town friends because I was "in training", I stopped blogging, Kenny's life started to be dictated by my training schedule as well and that just wasn't fair.
That Friday I chose me, not in the dramatic way Kelly Taylor did, but me all the same. I took the weekend off with my family. I'm not going to lie, I went to the gym but I didn't run again until Monday. It was exactly what I needed and I hope I am able to continue to apply this to my running so our first fight doesn't cause us to break up because I really do love running.
Happy Running... Kate
In the last few weeks I've done a lot of running and it was literally running me into the ground. I was denying how exhausted I was because I was doing what I love and making healthy use of my time. I ignored the pain in my arch and the one in my knee. I told myself it was par for the course. I had a million excuses.
Then my friend Tiffany sent me this article which served as a desperately needed reality check. In reflecting on my life prior to reading the article I realized a few things...
I was training so hard for my marathon I was sacrificing everything else. I justified it because I'm a good runner, I won a race, I win my age group and most importantly I have a sponsor!! I have to run! God bless my amazing husband who played along with all my delusions of grandeur and managed to not laugh in my self important face. He would tell me it was okay to take a break and maybe I was overdoing it, but he supported me with out question. Well... except the time I told him I wanted to hire a coach. He said no to that!
Case in point: a group of running friends and I were graciously given admission to the Rock and Roll Providence Half Marathon by my favorite running store Fleet Feet. As a Providence College graduate I was thrilled to have this opportunity. Running in the old 'hood with a great group of friends. VIP access all around. Then we got there. I cried the night before the race, I really cried the day of the race. I almost didn't walk out of the hotel when I saw the rain coming down in sheets. I was terrified to run. Long story short I ran. I finished in 1:40:38. Oh and I cried, a lot. Why the tears? I thought my time sucked. Really sucked. I mean I was a better runner than that, I was going for 1:35. This was a total failure in my mind. As such I did not allow myself to relax and enjoy the truly great group of people I was with, I did not laugh with everyone else at the ridiculous conditions. I was devastated and embarrassed. In hindsight the embarrassing thing is that I let this behavior happen at all. The time was really good. I came in 52 out of thousands of women... I should have been proud and most importantly happy to be with my husband and friends in the city I have spent so many years loving.
When I really started to break it down I realized that I had stopped running with friends who were too competitive because God forbid they beat me! Instead of being able to be happy for the success of others, I chose to run against people I didn't know because losing to them wouldn't sting as much. Can you say selfish? I can and her name is Kate...
Then the training. A week after the 13.1 I ran a 20 mile long run which almost ended my running career. I finished the run and I felt good, I was smart about taking it slow. However all the miles prior started to take their toll quickly, but I kept running. I had weekly mileage goals to meet after all. I tried my best to meet them, but my runs were slow and sluggish. Every morning it was painful to step out of bed and I was rarely stepping out of bed in time to join my running group. I had become a bailer, a no show and ridiculously inconsistent which I hate and which made me feel incredibly guilty.
So I read the article and felt like I was reading about myself and it made me feel RIDICULOUS! Yes I am a decent runner and it is awesome to win, but the joy is in what you personally take away from the run. It's how it makes you feel, it's the sound of your feet on the pavement, it's the stress melting away and it's the person you love most waiting for you at the finish. Those are the best prizes.
Yes I run for Oiselle an apparel company run by some actual great runners Sally and Sarah, but I think they chose me to be a part of their team more because of this blog and the story of the woman behind it, not because I was going to be the next Shalane Flanagan. They liked that I was relatable and the things I achieved were within reach for all women.
Other things fell by the wayside too... I forgot a friends birthday, I feel asleep in odd places (my desk), I rejected plans with out of town friends because I was "in training", I stopped blogging, Kenny's life started to be dictated by my training schedule as well and that just wasn't fair.
That Friday I chose me, not in the dramatic way Kelly Taylor did, but me all the same. I took the weekend off with my family. I'm not going to lie, I went to the gym but I didn't run again until Monday. It was exactly what I needed and I hope I am able to continue to apply this to my running so our first fight doesn't cause us to break up because I really do love running.
Happy Running... Kate
Tiffany and I at the 2010 Cherry Blossom 10 Miler
Monday, August 1, 2011
When You Hit a Wall, Take a Step Back... Then Run Through It
This post started as more of a pep talk to myself, but if it helps anyone who might wander by this blog all the better. I hit a wall, a big one. I am emotionally and physically drained, tired, worn out, exhausted. Oh and my knees hurt and the arch of my right foot has a nagging ache when I walk let alone run.
So as you can see I am in optimal running shape! Perfect for training for my first marathon right? Yeah not so much... Normally I would look at this as total and complete failure and to a degree that thought has been sneaking into the corners of my mind. Things like "Help I am falling apart" or "you really aren't good at this" or "all the races you have placed in, set PRs in etc were just flukes... all of them".
Thankfully in the last year I have started nurturing the more rational side of my brain that always existed, but was severely underutilized! So this weekend I did something really scary for me, I did not run. Bonkers I know!! Actually the smartest thing I could have done apparently since I slept until Noon on Saturday which is seriously unheard of in my life. My body was talking to me and I listened... yay, small victory! I did over-analyze the damage this weekend off would do to my times, fitness, psyche and on and on, but I knew it was the absolute best thing for me. I was going to win this contest too, the one in my head by stepping off the road for 2 days... a mere 2 days.
I am hoping it worked. I know I survived. I was up at 5:30 today for a slow and easy 4 miler and the beginning of a Twitter challenge called RunStreak (run one mile every day for as many days as you can) and I felt good. I have the next 10 weeks of training mapped out for my October marathon. My goal is obviously to follow the plan to the letter, but the victory will be in simply finishing the race.
PS I also bought a sweet new pair of kicks, that helped motivate me too!
So as you can see I am in optimal running shape! Perfect for training for my first marathon right? Yeah not so much... Normally I would look at this as total and complete failure and to a degree that thought has been sneaking into the corners of my mind. Things like "Help I am falling apart" or "you really aren't good at this" or "all the races you have placed in, set PRs in etc were just flukes... all of them".
Thankfully in the last year I have started nurturing the more rational side of my brain that always existed, but was severely underutilized! So this weekend I did something really scary for me, I did not run. Bonkers I know!! Actually the smartest thing I could have done apparently since I slept until Noon on Saturday which is seriously unheard of in my life. My body was talking to me and I listened... yay, small victory! I did over-analyze the damage this weekend off would do to my times, fitness, psyche and on and on, but I knew it was the absolute best thing for me. I was going to win this contest too, the one in my head by stepping off the road for 2 days... a mere 2 days.
I am hoping it worked. I know I survived. I was up at 5:30 today for a slow and easy 4 miler and the beginning of a Twitter challenge called RunStreak (run one mile every day for as many days as you can) and I felt good. I have the next 10 weeks of training mapped out for my October marathon. My goal is obviously to follow the plan to the letter, but the victory will be in simply finishing the race.
Happy Running... KateTo uncover your true potential you must find your own limits and then you have to have the courage to blow past them. Picabo Street
PS I also bought a sweet new pair of kicks, that helped motivate me too!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Every Runner Has a Story... Run for the Fallen CT
Last Saturday I had the incredible privilege to run with an amazing group of people as part of Run for the Fallen CT. Cliff Paquette a young man from Sterling, CT was the lead runner, running 58 miles from his hometown in Sterling to Glastonbury High School. Each mile was dedicated to an individual service member from CT killed in Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom . Each mile was marked with a flag. I ran the fourth leg of the event which was ten miles. It was ten of the most incredible miles I have ever run.
Cliff Paquette took on this challenge after discussing it with his close friend SSgt. Frank Edward Adamski III. Sadly five months later Frank was the 55th Connecticut soldier killed. Thus the cause took on even greater meaning to Cliff and his family. After Frank's death three more miles were added for three additional lives lost. It was an honor to run carrying the American Flag. I felt a sense of pride in my country that I have never experienced before last Saturday. It was a beautiful and exciting experience. Runners of all levels from all over New England came to run with Cliff. Some ran long distances, some just a few miles but all to show support for this incredibly ambitious endeavor... did I mention Cliff was in an air cast mere weeks before he began his trek? This guy was hardcore and determined. The event was nothing short of inspiring.
I came to be part of the run through Fleet Feet Sports and it's running guru Steph Blozy who can whip a group of runners together like nobodies business. Running with Steph was also a privilege and I got a chance to pick her brain a little about running and the benefits that aren't always the most identifiable ones, like the ones that have changed me. In our discussion she said to me, "every runner has a story" and this is so true. I think by now you know mine and on Saturday I was so in awe of Cliff's story and what running meant and means to him. It keeps his friend Frank's memory alive for him and it honors those who have made the ultimate sacrifice so we can run freely and write our own stories.
My desire to continue with this great cause is complicated. I made some new running friends that I look forward to sharing the road with again, yet I wish we didn't have to make this trek as every life lost is one lost too soon...
I encourage you to visit the website above for Run for the Fallen CT. The pictures of the event are great and the video is fantastic. All proceeds from the event went to Wounded Warrior Project, Fisher House Foundation, and The Connecticut Patriot Guard Riders.
Leg 4 of Run for the Fallen CT 2011
Cliff Paquette took on this challenge after discussing it with his close friend SSgt. Frank Edward Adamski III. Sadly five months later Frank was the 55th Connecticut soldier killed. Thus the cause took on even greater meaning to Cliff and his family. After Frank's death three more miles were added for three additional lives lost. It was an honor to run carrying the American Flag. I felt a sense of pride in my country that I have never experienced before last Saturday. It was a beautiful and exciting experience. Runners of all levels from all over New England came to run with Cliff. Some ran long distances, some just a few miles but all to show support for this incredibly ambitious endeavor... did I mention Cliff was in an air cast mere weeks before he began his trek? This guy was hardcore and determined. The event was nothing short of inspiring.
I came to be part of the run through Fleet Feet Sports and it's running guru Steph Blozy who can whip a group of runners together like nobodies business. Running with Steph was also a privilege and I got a chance to pick her brain a little about running and the benefits that aren't always the most identifiable ones, like the ones that have changed me. In our discussion she said to me, "every runner has a story" and this is so true. I think by now you know mine and on Saturday I was so in awe of Cliff's story and what running meant and means to him. It keeps his friend Frank's memory alive for him and it honors those who have made the ultimate sacrifice so we can run freely and write our own stories.
My desire to continue with this great cause is complicated. I made some new running friends that I look forward to sharing the road with again, yet I wish we didn't have to make this trek as every life lost is one lost too soon...
I encourage you to visit the website above for Run for the Fallen CT. The pictures of the event are great and the video is fantastic. All proceeds from the event went to Wounded Warrior Project, Fisher House Foundation, and The Connecticut Patriot Guard Riders.
Me (in the pirate socks) and Steph Blozy proudly carrying the American Flag 
As Always Happy Running... Kate
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)