Monday, August 14, 2017

In Defense of Zumba

At the time I am writing this, I have taken exactly two Zumba classes in my entire 39 years on this planet. So I am clearly not a seasoned expert in this type of exercise. But regardless of my lack of experience in Zumba, I feel compelled to share my thoughts, because I think a lot of people disregard these classes and in doing so, they are totally missing out on the fun.

I know many people who are true Zumba enthusiasts: they teach it, breathe it, live it, and love it. These friends own Zumba footwear and Zumba clothing and they are Zumba-tastic at Zumba-ing. I myself had always wanted to try it (I absolutely love to dance) but felt completely intimidated to even sign up, never mind walk into a class. I’m not even sure why – I took dance as a young girl and can actually count and move on time to a beat. Truthfully, I think it was just my fear of the unknown scaring me off; that and I just didn’t know how I’d measure up to all those Zumba enthusiasts out there – I didn’t want them to think I was some kind of Zumba poser

But then a friend of mine (one of the non-Zumba enthusiasts) who has similar coordination and athletic abilities as me, asked me to join her for a Zumba class. I figured now was my chance to give it a shot, because humiliating myself with a friend seemed a lot less terrifying than doing so by myself.

In the few times I have taken any type of dance class as an adult, I always feel like I can relate to Jennifer Grey’s character Baby in the movie Dirty Dancing. When she’s first learning to dance she is completely distracted by everyone else around her, letting the people who are more experienced and more expressive intimidate her. She also feels a lot of frustration when trying to understand and learn various dance moves throughout the movie. When I first started  Zumba class, that was totally me. I wanted to get every move right on the first try (kind of hard to do when you are a newbie) and not being able to do so made me feel like a Zumba failure. Why was everyone else getting it and not me? (By the way, this was all an illusion – I was not in a room full of professional dancers, they were all regular people like me, sometimes getting the moves, sometimes not. But in my perfectionist head, everyone around me looked like Gene Kelly and I felt completely out of sync).

Then I remembered something the teacher said when she first introduced herself to me at the beginning of class: “This class is what you make it. Even if you don’t get it right away, just keep moving, and most importantly – have fun! Getting the steps right isn’t as important as enjoying the exercise.”  So I took a deep breath, stopped looking at the people dancing around me, and just let my body move to the music. And you know what? It was fun! Once I stopped overthinking it, the dancing came easier to me. And even when I missed a step or two, I just kept going - and it really felt good.

At the beginning of Zumba, this was me:



“I carried a watermelon”.


Then by the end of my second class, I was here:



Okay, not quite. But after completing two classes, I definitely started to get the hang of it and I learned a little something about getting out of my own head and having fun. It wasn’t “the time of my life”, per se, but I really enjoyed it and got a good sweat on.


So if you love dance and are looking for a new and fun way to get a full body cardio workout, I highly recommend Zumba. And don’t be intimidated by the Zumba enthusiasts out there, learn from them – they are the best leads to follow when you fall out of step in class. And here’s the biggest secret of all – they are having the most fun, because that's what it's all about.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

I'm Going Over The Edge


I saw the above quote posted on social media today and I thought, "wow, that is so deep, and so true." Then I looked it up (because when I see a great quote, I obviously want to know its source) and I discovered that this is a quote from the TV show One Tree Hill. 😩

No offense to One Tree Hill but I was kind of hoping this quote came from a more meaningful place. I never even watched the show when it was on. Oh well. The quote still speaks to me and I like it.

Regardless of where this quote hails from, its appearance on my Facebook newsfeed is very timely. You see, I was just given the incredible opportunity to participate in the 2017 New York City Marathon, taking place just 15 weeks from now. Um, what?!

On a whim, I applied for a race bib through the North Shore Animal League America, a non-profit animal shelter that is the world's largest no-kill rescue and adoption organization. If accepted, I would have the chance to run the NYC Marathon and raise money for this very worthy cause. As an animal lover and an ongoing supporter of NSALA over the past couple of years, I decided to take a chance and reach out to them about getting an entry into the one marathon I have wanted to participate in for many years. So imagine my surprise when a representative from NSALA contacted me yesterday, letting me know that if I wanted to do some fundraising for them, I would be able to run in the NYC Marathon!

As I mentioned previously, the marathon is happening in 15 short weeks. Fifteen weeks might not seem like a short amount of time for some people, but for a person who needs to train for a full marathon and raise $3,000 - believe me, it's short. Initially when I received the email from NSALA with their offer, I was torn. Can I train in just 15 weeks? Am I able to raise money for such an important cause? Do I have the confidence to pull all of this off? I decided to sleep on it and give myself 24 hours to make my decision.

When I woke up this morning, I made a pro and con list to help me decide - and the pattern was obvious: all of the pros were about how badly I wanted to do this (the fundraising and the training) and how great it would be if I did, and all of the cons were about how worried I was that I wouldn't be able to pull it off.

Then, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I saw two things that helped me make my decision: the first was the quote at the top of this blog post. It forced me to ask myself, "If not now, when?" I could wait another year, but why wait if I have the chance now?

The second thing I saw on Facebook that spoke to me this morning was an image of my husband's aunt rappelling down a 22 story building in Boston. Someone captured a photo of her as she gracefully glided down the side of a building, you guys! This woman fearlessly participated in the "Over the Edge" rappel to support the Special Olympics of Massachusetts and even though I think she is totally nuts for doing this, I am one hundred percent impressed and inspired by her bravery. As soon as I saw that photo of her, I made my decision: I am going to go for it. I'm going over the edge, too! I mean, not literally - I would never climb down a building. But I will run another marathon and do so for a very worthy cause.

Holy crap, I am running in the NYC Marathon in 15 weeks!

You never know where your inspiration will come from. It could come from a One Tree Hill quote. It could come from a relative rappelling down the side of a building. It could come as an offer from an amazing non-profit organization that saves animals lives every single day. Whatever it is, seize it. Because someday is today, and this is your life. 

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

My First Ever 26.2

The image shared above is a Facebook status I posted 7 years ago this week. I'll confess, I am sharing this historical social media update smugly because two months ago I completed a full marathon (my first ever) and it only took 3 days for me to recover. So what I am saying is that I ran 26.2 miles earlier this year and then 3 days later I felt perfectly fine. What? How is that even possible? Seven years ago I was a much younger gal but in this case, youth does not matter. I might be older now, but I am better trained and a lot smarter when it comes to taking care of my body.

At age 39, I can say with confidence that I am a faster, stronger, and more determined runner than I was 7 years ago. In my younger years I easily accepted defeat and lacked self confidence; the girl I was 7 years ago would never have considered training for a full marathon. I am proud of the woman I have grown into and I am not even sorry it took me this long to realize my potential. Isn't that the point of life after all? To take the journey and learn from it? And I continue to learn more every single day.

My experience running the Walt Disney World Marathon in January was, for lack of a better word, awesome. It was the longest and most difficult run I have ever completed and it was also the best run I have ever had. When I got to the halfway point (13.1 miles), I stopped to use the bathroom with some other runners. A woman standing in line with me said to everyone nearby, "We're at the halfway point ladies, up until now you were running a half marathon, now it's official, you're in a full marathon". I won't ever forget that; it was a pivotal moment for me during that race - the reality that I had already run 13 miles and still had another 13 miles to go hit me hard - and instead of feeling scared, I felt excited. I was pumped.

During the marathon I had one fleeting moment of feeling like I wanted to quit: it was at the 20 mile mark and I distinctly remember thinking that I wasn't sure I had it in me to go another 6.2 miles to reach the finish line. But when I saw my two sons and my husband standing on the sidelines ringing cowbells and cheering me on just after mile 20, I was re-energized. The mantra I kept repeating in my head from that moment on was, "you've come this far, you can't stop now". Because after you have completed 20 miles, it's almost laughable to even consider not pushing to the end. What's another 6.2 miles anyway? Piece of cake. (Yeah, right)

Crossing the finish line of that race was such a happy and satisfying moment. I can't say it was the happiest moment of my life (the birth of each of my children takes that title) but it was damn near close.


Yes, I know I look like I am praising the running gods in this photo (as do the other runners near me), but in reality this image is capturing an amazing moment in time. All of the training I did (mental and physical), all of the hard work I put into this race, all of my hopes, fears, and determination - it is all captured in this one shot as I am crossing the finish line. I am so grateful for this photo because now I will always have the visual of this incredible memory.

So what's in store for me now? Well, I am planning to run the Disney Half Marathon in January 2018 (already registered 😏). Last year my training focused on building endurance for a longer race; this year my training will focus on endurance and speed (I am hoping to get a PR in Disney next year). So I will continue with long runs and short runs and stair work (running up and down stairs and Holy Cross stadium), but I will push myself a little harder and will work on incorporating more cross training in my cardio routines. Overall, I am excited for another long race and I am looking forward to the challenge of trying to get a better time than my previous half marathon.

But most of all, I am proud to finally have this decal prominently displayed on the back of my car:


Because yeah, I earned that.




Monday, December 12, 2016

A Peek Inside My Head During A Half Marathon

I am less than one month away from embarking on my first full marathon and in honor of this upcoming momentous event, I thought I would let you, dear reader, take a peek inside my head and see what goes through my mind when I am running a road race. 

While I was running my last half marathon in May I was having all of these thoughts and feelings that swung back and forth from energized and happy to downright angry and frustrated. Running is a very emotional and physically taxing activity for me, so it is no surprise that my thoughts are all over the place when I am attempting to complete a long race. After that race I wondered what people would think if they could hear what goes on inside my head while I am running, so the excerpt below is basically a snapshot of that craziness. It's nothing if not entertaining.

This little stream of consciousness might make you question if I even enjoy running at all. Make no mistake, I absolutely love it, because even though it is really hard, it pushes me to be better - both physically and mentally. I have never been an athletic soul and I am not a fast runner - I won't be winning any awards any time soon (except for the finisher's medal they give out at most races to everyone who steps over the finish line) - but with each race I train for, I can feel myself getting stronger. Two years ago I was having a tough time training to run 5K races and now I am training to run 26.2 miles. Running will never come easily to me and during any given race (even the shorter ones), I will always have this emotional stream of consciousness, but somehow even through all the emotional and physical turmoil, I am somehow able to get it together and push through. And then after all the muscle soreness wears off, I sign up for the next race...  

Starting Line: I’m nervous but I’m pumped. I can totally do this. I’ve got this. Crap, can I do this? Double knot the sneakers. Stretching, stretching. Everyone else looks so relaxed and I am starting to freak out over here. I am the least athletic-looking person here. I totally got this, I have been training for months. I have done this before. I've got this! Okay here goes nothing.

Mile .5: Ugh why is it so hard for me to regulate my breathing when I first start?! Everyone else is flying by me and I feel like it’s my first time running over here. Why the hell do I sign up for these races? And do I have to pee already? Jesus Christ.

Mile 1-3: False alarm about having to pee. Okay, I am good. Really really good! The running app on my phone says I am going at a faster pace than normal, but I totally won’t burn out because I’m in a good groove. Feeling great! Just keep going. 

Mile 4: Time for another Gatorade chew to keep me fueled. These things are so awesome! Wow, this is a fantastic running mix. I should be a DJ for road races. That would be a really fun job! I could just play lots of fun 80s music on the sidelines and cheer on runners as they go by. Oh I love this song – yay, Guns N’ Roses! 

Mile 5: I need water. It’s been way too long sing I had water. Now water is all I can think about. I know it’s only been 1.5 miles since the last water station but I think I am dying of thirst over here. I am so thirsty I might tackle that girl over there and take her Camelbak.

Mile 5.5: Water water water water. Seriously, where is the damn water station?

Mile 6-8: I am feeling so awesome! I am more than half way through this race and I feel like I could run forever. Woo-hoo endorphins! Another Gatorade chew thingy and I am on my way! Finish line here I come! I am definitely going to do another half marathon.

Mile 9: Ugh. This must be that proverbial wall I have heard about and man did I just hit it hard. Ouch. You mean to tell me I have another 4.1 miles left of this shit? I can’t go on. I just can’t. Kill me now. I am never running again.

Mile 10-11: If I have to eat another frigging Gatorade chew I am going to vomit. And to the lady standing on the side of the road cheering on the runners, please do NOT say “you’re almost there” – I am NOT almost there. “Almost there” means I can see the finish line. Is there a finish line in sight? No. So knock it off. 

Mile 12: This is the longest race ever. I have 1.1 miles left and it might as well be 100 miles. Blisters, blisters everywhere.

Mile 12.5: Holy crap I am close. You must finish this race running. Time for the magic mile, baby. To hell with the blisters, let’s do this thing. Let's kick it up.

Mile 13: Why in God’s name is this race 13.1 miles? It should just end at 13. The remaining .1 is so ridiculous. If this race were just 13 miles I'd be done by now. Keep running, finish strong, baby. It's almost over.

Finish Line: Wow, I hurt. Am I going to vomit? No wait, no, I am fine. Keep walking and moving, don't want to cramp up. I need to find my family. And a banana. And water. That race was amazing. I kinda killed it. I am awesome. But I bet I can beat my time in the next half marathon… 

Friday, September 16, 2016

The Magic That Happens Outside of Your Comfort Zone

I was recently inspired to step outside of my comfort zone and the source of that inspiration came from none other than my 9 year old son. He is playing soccer this fall and normally my boy is less inclined to join team sports (he typically prefers to sit alone quietly while reading a book, just like his mom), but this year he actually asked his father and me to sign him up for soccer. I was surprised at this request; he has played team sports before and when he does it usually results in him saying, "I don't think I want to do that again next year". But he insisted he wanted to try soccer this fall, so we signed him up.

When I watch my son play soccer, I can see in his face that he is trying hard and that he is way outside of his comfort zone, and I am really proud of him for taking a risk and challenging himself in this way. And so began my own pursuit to challenge and push myself, just as my son is doing.

One of the reasons I love running is because it is a sport I can do by myself. I'm an introvert, so I often prefer to be by myself as a means of recharging and re-energizing. But admittedly I have also always been a little self-conscious about my athletic ability (or lack thereof), and therefore I tend to shy away from group sports. However, after seeing my 9 year old introverted, self-conscious son make an effort in group sports, I thought maybe I'd try something new. In fact, I tried two new things: 1) I joined a running group with some co-workers and 2) I participated in the November Project in Worcester, MA.

I decided to join a running group at work for two reasons: a) it would help hold me accountable as I am training for the full marathon I am running in January and b) it would help me get to know some of my colleagues in my new job. Socializing with strangers is always outside of my comfort zone, so joining a running group at work was definitely a challenge, but one I am glad I took on - when you train in a sport with other people, an organic camaraderie takes place and bonds you in a way that doesn't happen naturally when you are sitting in a cubicle inside the office. Our group ran some tough hills earlier this week and we all were high-fiving each other when we finished, laughing and talking about what was good and what was bad about our run.

In addition to socializing at work through sports and fitness, I decided to do the same outside of work. That's where the November Project comes in. You may be wondering what that is; I included a link to their website above if you want more information, but basically the November Project is a free grassroots fitness movement (originally founded in Boston) that has expanded to multiple cities across four time zones in North America. The people that meet for the November Project use the space around them to work out, and as I mentioned before, it costs nothing to join. In fact, the November Project's slogan is, "just show up".

In Worcester, the November Project "tribe members", as they are called, run up and down the stadium at the College of the Holy Cross every Wednesday morning just after sunrise. And if you are thinking, "How hard can it be to do that?", you clearly have never run up and down an entire stadium before. It's pretty freakin' hard. I can attest that it was one of the toughest workouts I have done since I took Barre last year. And I had to pay someone to kick my ass when I took Barre - the November Project ass-kicking was totally free, and totally awesome. But even though the workout was hard, anyone can join, all levels of ability are welcome and encouraged to participate. Members range from Olympian athletes to people who are just getting off the couch for the first time. Running up and down the stadium trains your body for endurance, and it also makes you realize how big a stadium really is. Ha, ha.

What makes the November Project most special, though, is the relationships between tribe members. There is hugging, laughing, and socializing that you won't see at your local gym. The members support one another and all they ask is that if you say you are going to show up, that you show up. Be accountable. But if you don't, you aren't yelled at or made to feel bad. The members will just say to you, "hey, we missed you" the next time they see you.

Joining the November Project for the first time was most definitely outside of my comfort zone. I am not used to socializing in this way and I felt intimidated at first by all of the "athletic-looking" people that surrounded me (side note: anyone in sneakers and running shorts looks "athletic" to me - except for me, of course). But everyone was very friendly and encouraging and I was told to basically just do my best, which is advice I give my children all the time, so for once I put away my insecurity and self-doubt and I gave it a shot. I am so glad I did, because I got the best workout of my life and it didn't cost me a penny. And I met some new people and made some friends.

Stepping outside of one's comfort zone can be downright scary. I personally prefer to be comfortable at all times. But not a whole lot of magic happens inside your comfort zone. Sure, you get stuff done, but you don't get to try anything new or test your limits. How else will you know what you're made of if you don't push yourself a little? When I stepped up to my new running partners at work and when I walked into that stadium with the November Project tribe at Holy Cross, I wanted to turn and run away. But then I remembered my 9 year old son running on the soccer field, pushing himself and trying hard at something new, and I went for it. I experienced firsthand the magic that happens outside of my comfort zone, and there's no looking back now.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

9/11, A Personal Reflection on Love and Resilience

Today, fifteen years following one of the greatest tragedies ever to take place on our nation's soil, Americans everywhere reflected on what this day means to them. Whether you were in NYC, DC, or Pennsylvania on that day or if you were sitting on your couch watching the footage from the safety of your living room thousands of miles away, each and every one of us was affected by what occurred on 9/11/01.

Last October I finally visited the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City. It was as painful and beautiful as I expected it to be. Reliving the fear and sadness from that day brought back a flood of emotions that I had locked up for over fourteen years. Today, as I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed and saw all of the pictures and videos people were sharing in memory of those who died on 9/11/01, that same sadness and anxiety began to resurface.

I was twenty-three years old, working as a receptionist for a corporate real estate company in a high rise building in Boston. I was fresh out of college and new to adulthood. When the news of the terrorists attacks reached me, I opted to stay at work all day and help ease the fears of the hundreds of tenants in our office building (the company I worked for managed the office building in which we worked). We never ordered an evacuation but eventually every company that worked in our building left; the building was basically empty before 5 p.m. that day - I can assure you that never ever happened before or after that day. In fact, it seemed like the entire city of Boston was empty by 5 p.m. that day; when I got on the commuter train to head home at 5:30, the train car I sat in was completely empty except for me and the train conductor collecting tickets. If you have ever taken a commuter train from a city during rush hour on a work day, you know that getting a seat is a big deal because the train cars are always jam-packed, so an empty train car at 5:30 p.m. on a Tuesday is completely bizarre. The empty building, empty city, and empty train felt surreal and apocalyptic.

September 11, 2001 was hands down the most terrifying day of my life. Hundreds of people were lighting up our switchboard at work, many screaming at me, demanding to know if we were in danger and if the building was going to be evacuated because they were afraid and didn't know if our city was in danger. I don't know how I did it but I managed to keep my cool for hours on end; I remained stoic and professional and I answered every single phone call that came in. My boss finally came over and told me to take a break and she insisted on covering the phones for me; when she relieved me of my duties, I went into the single stall bathroom in our suite, sat down on the floor, and cried hysterically. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I just kept thinking over and over again, "This is it, this is the end of the world". And at that moment in time, I truly believed that to be true.

The world as I know it changed forever that day. I have always been an anxious person, constantly worrying about things I can't control, but after 9/11/01, that anxiety became bigger and more forceful and it settled in my heart and my head permanently. The realization that I am not safe, that I could be killed on an airplane, or in an office building, or walking down the street, was startling. It was scary to know that my life is at risk every day. And that I just had to accept this and move on. I realize now that before 9/11, I was still a child who believed she was immortal. After that day fifteen years ago, my mortality became real, and whatever little bit of innocence I still had at that point in time, was abruptly snatched away...forever.

I watched the news every single day for about two years following that fateful day. I kept waiting for another terrorist attack. It was years before I felt secure again; but even though a lot of time has passed and I am not as terrified as I was fifteen years ago, I never went back to feeling as secure as I did before the attacks on 9/11. I don't think anyone did.

When I see photos and footage from 9/11 now, many years later, it feels as though it happened only yesterday, and the terrifying loss of innocence I experienced that day comes screaming back to me. But today I tried to take a different approach to remembering 9/11/01; instead of focusing on the pain and fear from that day, I tried to focus on the love. After that terrible day, our country came together in a way I had never seen before. Our nation proved that despite race, religion, social status, and political affiliation, above all else we are Americans, and we would not stand for anyone attacking our brothers and sisters. What happened on 9/11 was despicable and disgusting and we would not lie down and allow evil to overcome us. American flags were in every window, on every car, on every house. In fact, I remember that American flags were actually on backorder for months because people were buying them faster than they could be produced. The swell of love and togetherness was so powerful and overwhelming, you could almost feel it physically, even from across the country. Strangers were suddenly family, and the support was unending. In the face of tragedy we didn't turn on one another or blame one another, we came together and remained united.

I think it's important to remember the love and resilience that came out of 9/11/01. I think we owe it to the people who died that day to focus on that and not to allow the fear and anxiety to overcome us. I won't ever forget that day, but from now on I will try to keep the memory of that love and resilience in my heart - not just on the anniversary of 9/11 - but every single day.

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

I Am A Runner: My Moment of When "Them" Became "Us"

I know the precise moment when I realized I was a runner. It wasn’t when I completed my first half marathon, or my second, or even my third. It wasn’t when I signed up for my very first full marathon. It was this morning, as I leisurely ran an easy 5 miles on a trail in the woods.

Allow me to provide a little history: I didn’t start running until about 10 years ago. Before then, I was not athletic at all. I used to joke that if anyone ever saw me running, they should run too because there was probably a serial killer chasing me. In gym class in high school my teacher would lovingly plead with me to run the fifty-yard dash or participate in floor hockey or whatever physical education requirement was on the agenda. I would begrudgingly oblige but I would make it known that I was only doing it because I was being forced to; I hated to break a sweat or be uncomfortable for even just a few seconds, never mind several minutes. It doesn’t help that I wasn’t very fast or very agile when it came to sports, so I spent the first 28 years of my life playing up to the “I suck therefore I sit” mantra. And I got away with it too, because if you say something enough times, people will start to believe it. I even had myself convinced.

And then it all changed in 2006; some friends of mine decided to train for a half marathon and they asked me to join. It didn’t hurt that the race we would be training for was going to be in Hawaii; I admit that the location of the race certainly sweetened the pot for me, but I also felt that running might be a great way to get into shape and as I was approaching 30 and was still not very athletic, I figured I needed the help. Although the idea of attempting to complete a half marathon terrified me, I was up for the challenge. Part of me just wanted to see if I could do it. And I did do it, with gusto.

I guess you can say I have been running ever since. I did take a couple of years off to have two babies, but essentially running became part of my life in the very moment I decided to train for that half marathon ten years ago. Yet, after countless road races and hundreds of miles of sweat and tears, I still did not consider myself a “real runner”. In my mind, a “real runner” was probably someone who ran track in college, someone who could run fast, someone who maybe didn’t sweat as much as I did when I ran, and someone who didn’t have to stop and walk sometimes during road races, like I did. I was full of reasons why I was unworthy of being considered a “real runner”, even after I completed my third half marathon as recently as a week ago.

I don’t know why I felt this way, but even after ten years of running, I continued to feel like an outsider in the running world.

A couple of years ago I was sitting in a class learning about Judaism. A fellow student asked the Rabbi who was teaching the class how someone who is converting to Judaism will know that the time is right to become Jewish. The Rabbi gave an answer I will never forget: he said a member of his synagogue who converted to Judaism once told him that she knew she was ready when “them” became “us”. When she stopped thinking of herself as an outsider, she knew she was already Jewish in her heart and was ready to convert; the word "them" was replaced by the word "us".

I had my own “them/us” moment this morning while running on a trail in my town. This was my first run after completing my last half marathon (six days prior) so the plan was to take it easy. I didn’t track my pace or my exact mileage (I estimate I did about 5 miles total) and I was thoroughly enjoying my easy run in the woods. Since it was a perfect near-summer day, the trail was full of people, many of which were running. Every time I passed a runner going in the opposite direction as me, I would smile and say “Good morning!” As I neared the end of the trail where I had to turn around and head back, the feeling suddenly washed over me, and it was as refreshing as leaping through a sprinkler on a hot day: I am a runner out on the trail with my fellow runners.

It didn’t happen while I was finishing a big race or getting a new PR. No one talked me into it. I was simply running in the bright morning sunshine and I just knew it was true: I was one of them. I am one of them.

After all this time, I am a real runner. It was true all along. But now I finally know it to be true in my heart.

I am a runner.