"One Day I Just Started Running"

I wanted to start a blog to help others understand how to find their passion and get as much out of life as I do. It took a series of major events for me to find the focus I have today. I'd hope that through sharing my stories and advice that the world will be a better place for you. Here is where my story begins...

It was a warm June day in New York City in 2007, but unusually dry compared a typical humid summer days. That was the day I began to believe in the run. A few months later my sister’s boyfriend asked if I just got up one morning and decided to run. I laughed and said, that’s exactly what happened.

On the morning of June 5, 2007, my mother succumbed to a seven year battle with lung cancer and I spent the rest of that day beginning to realize my life had changed forever with the loss my second parent. The following morning, I woke up with a ton of emotions: sadness, emptiness, and anger. The anger was from the years that I allowed my mother to smoke and not challenge her decision. I lived 3,000 miles away in LA and decided it was not my place to confront her. On that morning the anger built so much I just decided to run. I couldn’t tell you how far, how fast or for how long I ran, but it felt good. I ran to clear my mind. I ran to rid myself of the anger. I ran through the pain and the tears. I ran to find peace with myself and all my emotions. I spent a month in NYC that summer with my family and I ran more than I ever had in my life.

During the next year I ran some 300 miles. I ran a series of races: 5k, 5mi, 10k, a half marathon and on what would have been my mothers’ 60th Birthday (January 13th) I ran 26.2 miles across the mild Arizona desert in my first marathon. I ran on sand, on pavement, on dirt, on gravel and even through Camp Pendleton’s mud. I rain in the morning, in the rain and one day in chilling 10 degree day. Through each day was a story and those I’ll share with you on this blog.

The pain that was there a few months earlier was gone. Still I didn’t know what the run had done for me, so I put in for the 2008 ING NYC Marathon that spring. The run had grown so much on me that I didn’t see a reason to stop.

Those around didn't seem to understand. Some thought I was crazy. I thought I was crazy. My need and my push to run seemed like a sort of meditation. The anger and sadness don’t last when I run. I consider it spending time with my parents and the goals have given me focus.

(The final paragraph of this posting was part of a Nike contest that says why I believe in the run)

I woke on the morning of June 5 and knew it was the day of NYC Marathon lottery. I knew I’d find myself in the race, because as my brother said it was fate. It had been exactly a year since my life had changed and when I started running. On Nov 2, I returned to NY to run those grueling 26.2 miles across my home town, where my parents raised me, past the hospital I was born, past the yard where I played and the schools where I learned. It had been 500 miles of running since my mother passed, but not until I reached Central Park that I realized it. With millions cheering louder than the volume of my headphones I realized it. Knowing that my brothers & sisters stood at the finish line I realized it. I thought I’d ran a race for them, but I realized I ran for me. I realized they believe in me & that made me who I’ve become in my life. I realized I believe in the run.