Where Amy Runs

26.5 (according to my GPS) miles of blood, sweat, and tears was the culmination yet also the beginning of a beautiful mind/body transformation and realization.  Let me rewind. This marathon was about so much more than finishing a race...just as every marathon is for me. I view the marathon as a yearly pilgrimage. The journey is difficult--starting with training--and is largely outside of one's control (i.e. race day weather), but in getting there you become not only physically but also mentally stronger. The race itself--the pilgrimage destination--is the ultimate celebration of life. While running a marathon, you feel so alive, and experience the broad spectrum of emotions that come with truly living. You feel connected to everyone around you on a deeper level than you could ever feel in any other type of crowd--from your fellow runners, to your spectators, we're baring it all--hearts on our sleeves. And that's exactly how I showed up on October 9, 2021. For a year, on and...

I did not know I was running this race until days before. I had a rollercoaster of a health experience--if things went one way, I could race, and if things went another, I could not race. Little did I know, I was at in the beginning stages of a transformative mind/body healing experience. So step one: show up here. I was physically vulnerable--wounded and bleeding--as well as emotionally. So when a boy's parents spoke before the race to remind us of its cause, addiction, tears welled up in my eyes. It would have been their son's 32nd birthday; that's only one year older than me.  Their bravery in sharing their family's story, and moving forward so positively in the midst of tragedy, inspired me in my personal moment of grief. I cried a little as the race began, overwhelmed with emotion from their story and for gratitude for being alive and being healthy overall. I dedicated my race to celebrating their son's life. Right by the turnaround point in Saugatuck Shores It...

The last time I ran this race, I was 20 weeks pregnant! I was pretty bold, wasn't I!? This time, I saw my son's pediatrician at the start. She said, "You're gonna win it right?" and I laughed...saying something like "Probably not, but we'll see!" It was a glorious spring day, sun shining, and it's always nice when you can run to the start (just 1 mile from my house) to warm up.  They'd changed the route this year--avoiding the windy trail section in Oyster Shell park (for the best, in my opinion!)--and I was excited to be back to this distance! "First woman!" the crowd yelled as I ran down Water Street towards the main stretch of Washington Street in downtown SoNo. No way, I thought. I looked around. Yes, they were yelling at me. Yes, I was the first woman they'd seen!  Enter: mental component of running. I really started getting in my head here. Like no way, you're not the first woman. Someone's about to come catch you....

COVID winter was tough for everyone, and I was grateful--more so than ever--for my own good health and that of my family and loved ones. It was dark and cold, with more snow than I'd ever experienced (UGH). One day, after being inside on the treadmill for a week due to snow, I cautiously emerged for a slow, ice-dodging run. Turns out, you're supposed to warm up before you run (wouldn't ya think I'd have known after running 6 full marathons and countless halves)...ESPECIALLY when it's cold outside! Spoiler alert: I got injured (Gluteus Medius strain).  After 3 months on my physical therapy build back plan, I decided it was time for my first post-injury race. I was recovering, Connecticut was slowly but surely thawing out, and COVID vaccinations were becoming available. Things felt hopeful again. With this mindset, my husband and I signed up for the First Chance in CT 3 mile run--with me running solo and my husband pushing my son in the stroller. Our race organizer pu...