Health & Fitness

Training for a half marathon has a funny way of teaching you lessons that have very little to do with running.

A few weeks ago, the lesson was rest.

I had been dealing with pain from an old ankle injury, and after seeing my doctor, I made the difficult decision to step away from running for a few weeks. At the time, resting felt frustrating. When you’re training toward a goal, every missed run can feel like you’re falling behind.

But eventually, it was time to lace my shoes back up.

And this time, the lesson was about trusting myself enough to run smart.

Ten Miles After a Long Night

Going into my scheduled 10-mile run, I had a few concerns.

For starters, I had just finished working a 10-hour overnight shift. I was worried about how much energy I would have once I got out there.

I was also thinking about the training time I’d lost while allowing my ankle to recover. Ten miles is a substantial distance under normal circumstances. Coming back from an injury made it feel even more significant.

There was a part of me that wanted this run to prove that I hadn’t lost anything.

But I also knew that trying to prove something was probably the quickest way to undo the recovery work I’d already done.

So I made a decision before I really got going:

Run smart.

The First Three Miles Were About Patience

I started the first three miles at a conservative pace and treated them almost like an extended warm-up.

Instead of worrying about what my pace looked like or trying to make up for lost training time, I paid attention to how my body felt.

How did my ankle feel?

How was my breathing?

How was my energy after being awake and working all night?

As the miles passed and my body warmed up, I gradually increased my pace. Eventually, I found a rhythm that felt manageable and settled into it.

And then came the hills.

I Needed the Hills

I deliberately included hills in this run.

Not because I wanted to make an already challenging 10 miles harder, but because hills are part of running—and they’re definitely part of preparing for the Richmond Half Marathon.

I needed to know where I was in my recovery.

The hills gave me an opportunity to test my strength without turning the entire run into a test of how much discomfort I could tolerate.

That distinction has become increasingly important to me.

There is a difference between challenging your body and punishing it.

For a long time, I think I associated progress with pushing harder. Run faster. Go farther. Tough it out. Finish no matter what.

But sometimes progress looks completely different.

Sometimes progress is having enough discipline to hold back.

I Could Have Pushed Harder

During the final few miles, something surprising happened.

I realized I still had more left in the tank.

I could have increased my pace. I could have pushed harder and tried to finish the run with everything I had.

And for a moment, that was tempting.

Instead, I stayed conservative.

This wasn’t race day. There was no medal waiting for me at the end. I didn’t need to prove that I could empty the tank.

The purpose of this run was to continue rebuilding.

So I finished knowing that I probably could have done more.

And strangely enough, I’m proud of that.

Rest Didn’t Take Away My Progress

One of my biggest fears when I had to stop running was that I would lose everything I’d worked for.

I didn’t.

My body remembered.

My endurance was still there.

And perhaps more importantly, I came back with a little more respect for what my body had been asking of me.

My previous lesson was learning when to rest.

This one was learning how to come back.

Neither lesson is particularly glamorous. Neither one produces the kind of numbers we runners like to post and celebrate.

But both are part of becoming a stronger runner.

The Richmond Half Marathon Is Still Ahead

There is still work to do before Richmond.

I want to continue building my endurance, strengthening my ankle, getting more comfortable on hills, and gradually improving my pace.

But that 10-mile run gave me something I needed even more than a fast time.

Confidence.

Not the confidence that comes from proving I can push through anything.

The confidence that comes from knowing I can listen to my body, adjust when necessary, and still keep moving toward my goal.

I’m learning that training isn’t about winning every workout.

It’s about putting enough good days together to arrive at the starting line healthy, prepared, and ready to run.

So I’ll keep building.

One smart mile at a time.

Health & Fitness

Training for the Richmond Half Marathon: Learning when to rest

Training for a half marathon has a way of teaching you things that have very little to do with running.

This week, my lesson has been about rest—and I haven’t particularly enjoyed it.

As I continue training for the Richmond Half Marathon, an old injury started acting up again. I tried to pay attention to what my body was telling me, and eventually I went to see my family doctor. After evaluating what was going on, she recommended that I take some time away from training to allow my body to rest. She also recommended medication to help manage the pain and muscle discomfort I’ve been experiencing.

So, for now, the running shoes are taking a break.

And apparently, I am supposed to be okay with that.

When Rest Doesn’t Feel Productive

I am not very good at taking breaks from a training schedule.

There’s something satisfying about looking at a plan and completing each workout as scheduled. Run. Check. Strength training. Check. Long run. Check.

Resting because my body needs it feels different.

There’s no mileage to record. No pace to analyze. No little accomplishment waiting for me at the end of the workout.

And I’ve been restless.

Part of me wants to get back out there because I have a race I’m preparing for and goals I want to accomplish. But I’m also trying to change the way I think about productivity.

Sometimes doing more isn’t the productive choice.

Sometimes the productive choice is stopping.

Listening to My Body—and My Doctor

One of the things I’m learning through this training cycle is that there is a difference between discomfort that comes with challenging myself and pain that deserves my attention.

This time, my body was asking me to listen.

And my doctor was asking me to do the same thing.

So I am.

The time away from running has actually been helping. The pain and discomfort have had an opportunity to settle, which is a pretty good reminder that perhaps my body knew what it was talking about.

That doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly become good at sitting still.

I haven’t.

Finding Other Ways to Move

Since running isn’t currently on the schedule, I’ve been finding gentler ways to occupy myself while I wait for my doctor’s recommended rest period to end.

I’ve been stretching.

I’ve been working on small projects in the garden.

I’ve been moving when it feels appropriate without turning every bit of movement into a workout.

And maybe that’s part of the lesson too.

My garden doesn’t grow faster because I stand over it demanding that it hurry up.

Some things need time.

Apparently, runners do too.

Rest Is Still Part of the Training

I’m trying to remind myself that taking some time off doesn’t erase the work I’ve already done.

A few missed runs don’t suddenly mean that I’m no longer training for the Richmond Half Marathon.

Right now, rest is the training.

The goal isn’t simply to make it through every workout on my training calendar. The goal is to arrive at the starting line healthy enough to run—and hopefully enjoy—the race I’ve been preparing for.

If slowing down for a little while gives me a better chance of doing that, then slowing down isn’t failure.

It’s strategy.

And perhaps it’s growth.

There was a time when I probably would have been much more tempted to push through the pain because stopping felt like weakness. I’m learning to see things differently now.

Caring for my body isn’t something I do instead of pursuing my goals.

It’s part of how I pursue them.

Waiting for the Next Run

I’m still restless.

I’m still thinking about running.

And yes, I’m already looking forward to putting my shoes back on.

But for now, I’m stretching, tending to my garden, following my doctor’s recommendations, and giving my body the time it’s asking for.

The Richmond Half Marathon is still ahead of me.

My training hasn’t ended.

It has simply entered a quieter phase.

And maybe this week isn’t about learning how far I can run.

Maybe it’s about learning when not to.

— Lulu

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Haven Harvest Living is about building a life rooted in purpose—through food, gardening, movement, books, and reflection.

Follow along as I continue my journey toward the Richmond Half Marathon and learn what it means to move, rest, and grow with intention.

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Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

Running for Someone You Will Never Meet

The Fallen Heroes 5 Miler | July 4, 2026

Some races are about chasing a personal record.

Some are about checking another finish line off a training plan.

This race has never been either of those for me.

Every Fourth of July, I lace up my shoes knowing that someone else’s story will be running beside me.

This year, I ran in memory of Corporal Orville Gerena, a Marine from Virginia Beach who made the ultimate sacrifice on February 6, 2006, during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

When I pinned his name to my race bib, he stopped being just another name in a history book.

For five miles, he became the reason I kept moving.


This year’s race was brutally hot.

There were moments when every runner around me was feeling the weight of the Virginia summer. Sweat soaked our shirts before the first mile was over, and the sun showed no mercy.

But somehow, complaining about the heat felt small.

The men and women we were honoring endured hardships most of us will never fully understand.

Running five miles in uncomfortable weather suddenly didn’t seem like much at all.

More Than a Race

One of my favorite moments each year is walking beneath the enormous American flag suspended between two fire trucks.

It is impossible to stand underneath it without feeling something.

Not politics.

Not division.

Just gratitude.

Gratitude for people willing to serve something larger than themselves.

As I crossed beneath that flag, I couldn’t help but think about all of the families whose Fourth of July celebrations forever changed because someone they loved never came home.

Freedom has always had a cost.

This race reminds me not to forget who paid it.

The Finish Line

Crossing the finish line felt different this year.

I wasn’t celebrating a fast time.

I wasn’t celebrating a personal best.

I was simply thankful.

Thankful that I had the health to run.

Thankful that communities continue to gather to remember those who served.

Thankful that one more name—Corporal Orville Gerena—was spoken, remembered, and honored.

Because remembrance matters.

People are only truly forgotten when no one remembers their stories.

Why I’ll Keep Coming Back

There are many races on my calendar each year.

Some challenge my endurance.

Some help me train for bigger goals.

But this one reminds me why I started running in the first place.

Running isn’t always about competing.

Sometimes it’s about carrying someone else’s memory forward, one mile at a time.

As I continue working toward my goal of running 65 half marathons by the age of 65, I hope I never lose sight of races like this—races that remind me that every step can have a purpose beyond myself.

Thank you, Corporal Gerena.

And thank you to every service member who made the ultimate sacrifice.

You are remembered.

Health & Fitness

Healing Isn’t Always About Recovery—Sometimes It’s About Discovery

For a long time, I thought healing meant getting back to who I was before the trauma.

I thought the goal was to recover the version of myself that existed before the disappointments, betrayals, losses, and difficult experiences that shaped my life.

But lately, I’ve been wondering if healing is something entirely different.

What if healing isn’t about returning to who we were?

What if healing is about discovering who we have been all along?

A few days ago, I had a realization while talking with my children. They helped me see something I had never fully understood.

I have spent years believing there was something wrong with me.

Years believing I wasn’t enough.

Years focusing on my flaws, mistakes, and shortcomings.

Yet the people who know me best saw something very different.

They saw beauty where I saw imperfections.

They saw strength where I saw weakness.

They saw resilience where I saw brokenness.

And it made me wonder how many of us are carrying stories about ourselves that are no longer true.

Trauma has a way of changing the lens through which we view our lives.

It can convince us that we are less capable than we really are.

Less lovable than we really are.

Less worthy than we really are.

The trauma happened.

The pain was real.

But the story we tell ourselves because of the trauma isn’t always accurate.

Healing has taught me that growth doesn’t always look dramatic.

Sometimes it looks like taking a walk when you’d rather stay in bed.

Sometimes it looks like going for a run even when your pace is slower than you’d like.

Sometimes it looks like planting a garden and trusting that something beautiful can grow from the soil.

Sometimes it looks like setting a boundary.

Sometimes it looks like asking for help.

And sometimes it looks like finally seeing yourself through kinder eyes.

The truth is that I am still healing.

I suspect I always will be.

But I no longer see healing as a process of fixing a broken person.

I see it as a process of uncovering the person who has been there all along beneath the fear, the pain, and the self-doubt.

That person is stronger than she realized.

More capable than she believed.

And perhaps even more beautiful than she allowed herself to see.

Maybe that’s what healing really is.

Not becoming someone new.

But finally meeting yourself.

As we recognize PTSD Awareness Month, I hope we can expand the conversation beyond symptoms and diagnoses. Trauma affects real people—people who are raising families, going to work, building gardens, pursuing dreams, and quietly carrying burdens that others may never see.

Healing is possible. Recovery is possible. And sometimes the most important discovery is realizing that you were never as broken as trauma led you to believe.

Reflection Question

Have you ever discovered that something you believed about yourself wasn’t actually true?

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Trauma has a way of changing the lens through which we view our lives.

PTSD is often misunderstood as something that only affects combat veterans, but trauma can result from many different experiences, including childhood adversity, domestic violence, neglect, medical trauma, accidents, or the loss of a loved one.

One of the most common trauma responses is hypervigilance—the feeling that you must constantly scan for danger even when you are safe. Another is the tendency to see yourself through the lens of survival rather than through the lens of your strengths.

Trauma changes the brain and the body. It can affect sleep, relationships, self-esteem, and even physical health. These responses are not signs of weakness. They are signs that your nervous system learned to protect you.

The good news is that healing is possible.

Healing may involve therapy, supportive relationships, movement, mindfulness practices, healthy boundaries, and learning to extend compassion toward yourself.

There is no “right” timeline for healing. Your pace is the right pace.

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

Marine Corps Historic Half: Progress Over Perfection

There’s something humbling about lining up at the starting line of the Marine Corps Historic Half knowing that the weather may test you just as much as the distance itself.

This year’s race was warmer than expected, and I knew early on that trying to force the pace I originally planned for would have probably ended badly. Instead of fighting my body, I listened to it. I adjusted my pace, focused on consistency, and reminded myself that endurance is just as much mental as it is physical.

And honestly? That decision paid off.

I finished the race more than 10 minutes faster than I did last year.

That improvement means a lot to me because it wasn’t about suddenly becoming an elite runner overnight. It came from months of small decisions:

  • showing up even when I was tired,
  • training after long shifts,
  • learning how to recover properly,
  • and being willing to adapt instead of quitting.

Two things that genuinely helped me this training season were Strava and Runna. Strava helped me stay accountable and track my progress over time, while Runna gave me more structure and helped me train with intention instead of just running aimlessly.

One of the biggest lessons I’m learning as a runner is that every race day requires flexibility. You can train for months, but weather, stress, sleep, nutrition, and life itself will still influence performance. The goal is not perfection. The goal is learning how to adapt without giving up.

Some miles felt strong.
Some miles felt long.
Some hills still humbled me.

But I kept going.

Crossing that finish line reminded me how important it is to celebrate progress, even when the journey doesn’t look flawless. Last year’s version of me would be proud of how far I’ve come physically and mentally.

Running has become more than exercise for me. It has become proof that growth happens slowly, quietly, and often long before anyone else can see it.

And this race reminded me that I’m stronger than I think.


What Helped Me Most This Training Cycle

  • Structured training plans
  • Slowing down on recovery days
  • Adjusting for weather conditions
  • Staying consistent instead of chasing perfection
  • Listening to my body instead of my ego
  • Fueling and hydrating better before long runs
  • Remembering that progress is still progress, even if the run doesn’t feel “perfect”

Final Thoughts

If you’re training for a race right now, especially as a beginner or someone returning to running, give yourself grace.

Every mile counts.
Every slow run counts.
Every decision to keep showing up counts.

You do not have to run perfectly to grow.

And sometimes the biggest victory is simply becoming stronger than you were the year before.

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

Running Toward 65: Taking Control of My Health

This Isn’t Just About Running

I got into running before the age of 10, and for a long time, it was just a part of who I was. Over the years, I stepped away from it more than once—sometimes because of injuries, and other times because life, especially motherhood, demanded more of me. Running slowly became something I used to do… instead of something I returned to. But as my children got older, I started to feel this quiet pull. Like something in me was asking me to come back to it. To lace up my shoes again. To reconnect with what once felt natural.

I was never the fastest runner, and honestly, that was never the point. I ran because it was something I could control.
Because it gave me space. Because, for a little while, the focus could just be on me and what I needed. Then everything shifted.

Two years ago, my mother passed away from a preventable medical condition at the age of 65. That loss changed how I look at my health—and my future. What made it even harder to ignore was the pattern. My maternal grandmother also passed away at 65. She was the youngest in her generation. Just like my mother. And just like me. That realization stayed with me. And I knew I didn’t want that to be my story.

I want to outlive them both. I want something different. And the only way that happens is by taking control of my health. So, at the end of 2025, I made the decision to start running again—consistently this time. Around Christmas, the idea came to me:

65 half marathons.

Not all at once, and not rushed, but over time and with intention, I plan to run at least two half marathons a year—knowing realistically I may need to average closer to three to reach my goal of 65 before my 65th birthday. This journey isn’t about running for the sake of running; it’s about making a decision and understanding that it will be challenging at times. I’m choosing to share this because I want to encourage anyone who finds themselves thinking about their mortality or facing health challenges. Life will always bring obstacles, but when we learn to look at them through a different lens, those same challenges can lead us to something meaningful—maybe even something joyful


Just Showing Up

These days, my routine is pretty simple. I follow my training plan on Runna, I lace up my shoes, and I go. Some days feel strong.
Some days feel slow. Some days, I don’t feel like going at all. And on those days, I’ve learned something important. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to show up. And when my body needs rest? I take it. Because I’m not trying to burn out or get injured trying to prove something. I’m trying to build something that lasts.


Changing the Direction

At some point, this stopped being about “just getting in shape.” It became something deeper. Health doesn’t just happen. It’s built on the small decisions. In the habits we keep. In the moments we choose to show up—even when we don’t feel like it. Running has become one of those habits. Not because it’s always easy. But because it creates space—for clarity, for strength, and for something that feels like peace.


Finding Something I Didn’t Expect

I didn’t expect to enjoy this. That’s probably the most surprising part. Running has given me a kind of stillness I didn’t know I needed. There’s something about being out there, moving forward—even when things feel heavy—that shifts something mentally. It clears space. And in that space, I’ve found something that feels a lot like joy. Another part of this journey that I didn’t expect was the sense of community. I joined two local running groups, and through them, I’ve met some really great people—people who understand the effort it takes just to show up. On the days when my motivation is low, that sense of community makes a difference. It helps keep me accountable. It reminds me that I’m not doing this alone. And that’s something I’m truly grateful for.


Thinking About the Future

I’m in my early 40s now. And I think about the future a little differently. I’m not just thinking about getting through the day or the week. I’m thinking about being here long enough—and healthy enough—to really live. To show up for my children.
To be present in their lives. And maybe one day, to meet my grandchildren. That matters to me.


Learning to Listen

One thing running is teaching me is how to listen to my body. Don’t ignore pain. I learned that the hard way and was sidelined for several years. Running is going to hurt, and it is good to know which pain to take seriously and which one to listen to. Don’t push past everything; sometimes rest is exactly what you need. Because rest is part of the work, too, learning this concept has helped my running so much more than before. And choosing not to get injured? That’s part of the discipline.


The Story I’m Writing Now

This isn’t about being the fastest runner. Or having the perfect training schedule. Or doing everything right. This is about showing up for myself in a way I didn’t before, about choosing health. About choosing longevity. About choosing something different. One run at a time. I have tried out different running apps over the years to help create a safe and realistic training schedule. I downloaded the Runna app in May of 2025, and I used it to train for the Blue and Gray Half Marathon in December 2025. I felt strong and ready for that. Sticking with the running schedule my team of trainers created really helped me feel strong and confident to complete that race.


Let’s Talk

If you’ve been thinking about taking control of your health…Start where you are. Start small- by either getting a gym membership, joining local fitness clubs in your area, and setting small goals that can be expanded as you grow on your health journey. It is not about perfection; it is about taking control of your health and learning about what works for you. Running works for me because it allows me to be out in nature. You don’t need perfect timing or perfect conditions; there will never be a perfect time or season to take charge of your life and health. If you decide to start today, then go for it.

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

Back in Training: Lessons I’m learning the hard way.

I’m officially back in full training mode for the historic marine corps half marathon and let me tell you… I’ve already learned a few lessons the hard way.

This past week has been a mix of progress, setbacks, and a whole lot of reflection.

Lesson #1: Hydration Is Not Optional

A few days ago, I’m pretty sure I overlooked my hydration.

And my body made sure I paid for it.

I ended up violently throwing up and dealing with intense cold chills shortly after. It was honestly scary—and a clear reminder that hydration isn’t something I can afford to play around with, especially while training at this level.

That experience alone forced me to slow down and reassess.

Lesson #2: Preparation Changes Everything

Yesterday, I went on a practice “race day” run.

This time, I came prepared.

I made hydration a priority beforehand, and I could feel the difference immediately. My energy was better, my body felt more stable, and I didn’t hit that same wall.

I also had my music playlist ready—and that helped more than I expected. It kept me from starting too fast and helped me stay in a steady rhythm with my pacing and breathing.

Sometimes it’s the small things that make the biggest difference.

Lesson #3: The Wrong Gear Will Humble You Quickly

What I didn’t account for?

My socks.

I wore the wrong pair, and by the time I finished my run and got home, I realized I had developed painful, bloody blisters.

That was another tough lesson.

Because no matter how mentally prepared you are, the wrong gear can completely throw you off.

Where I Am Now

Right now, I’m focused on figuring out how to properly treat these blisters while still staying on track with my training schedule.

Because stopping completely isn’t the goal—but pushing through pain the wrong way isn’t smart either.

It’s about finding that balance.

Final Thoughts

If there’s one thing I’m learning in this season, it’s this:

Preparation matters.

Listening to your body matters.

And every mistake is a lesson—if you’re willing to learn from it.

This journey isn’t perfect… but I’m committed to it.

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

Listening to Your Body: When Slowing Down Is the Real Strength

For many years, I believed strength meant pushing through discomfort.

Run the extra mile.

Drink the extra cup of coffee.

Stay busy.

Ignore the little warning signs.

Like many people balancing work, family, and personal goals, I convinced myself that slowing down meant falling behind.

But the body has a way of getting our attention.

Recently, I experienced persistent chest discomfort that forced me to pause and really listen to what my body was trying to tell me. It wasn’t easy. As someone who enjoys running, gardening, cooking, and staying active with my kids, the idea of stepping back—even temporarily—felt frustrating.

But sometimes the strongest thing we can do is stop and pay attention.

Your Body Is Always Communicating

Our bodies are constantly sending signals:

Fatigue Digestive issues Muscle soreness Headaches Shortness of breath

Too often we silence those signals with caffeine, stress, or sheer determination.

But ignoring them doesn’t make them disappear.

It only delays the moment when our body demands rest.

Wellness Isn’t Just About Exercise

When people think about health and fitness, they often focus on workouts.

But real wellness is much broader.

It includes:

What we eat How we manage stress The quality of our sleep Our emotional wellbeing How well we listen to our body

For me, this has meant making small adjustments—watching my diet more closely, reducing certain triggers, and being more intentional about rest.

None of these things feel dramatic, but together they create balance.

Strength Looks Different Than We Think

Strength is not always pushing harder.

Sometimes strength looks like:

Skipping a workout to recover Drinking water instead of another cup of coffee Scheduling a doctor’s appointment instead of ignoring symptoms Taking a quiet walk instead of an intense run

It’s about respecting the body that carries us through life.

The Long Game

Health and fitness is not a short race. It’s a lifelong journey.

I still plan to run.

I still plan to garden.

I still plan to cook nourishing meals for my family.

But I’m learning that caring for my body today is what allows me to keep doing those things tomorrow.

And that might be the most important fitness lesson of all.

Feedback : Have you ever had a moment when your body forced you to slow down and listen?

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

When Plans Change: Training Smarter, Not Harder

January didn’t unfold the way I expected — and honestly, that feels like a theme I’m learning to accept more gracefully.

I was scheduled to run a 5K earlier this winter, but the race was first rescheduled to the first weekend in February and then eventually cancelled altogether due to severe weather and safety concerns. Between extremely low temperatures and icy roads, outdoor running became less about discipline and more about risk — and that’s not a tradeoff I’m willing to make.

So instead, I’ve found myself back on the treadmill at my local gym.


The Treadmill Reality

I’ll be honest: I’m not a big fan of treadmill running.

I love the rhythm of running outdoors — fresh air, changing scenery, the way your body naturally adjusts to the terrain. The treadmill feels repetitive, controlled, and mentally harder for me, even when the miles are shorter.

But right now, it’s the safest option.

And this season is teaching me that safe training is smart training, even when it’s not my favorite.


Learning to Adjust the Plan

With races being postponed or cancelled, I’ve had to step back and look at my race calendar more realistically. Instead of forcing a rigid plan, I’m giving myself permission to adjust.

My goals for this year include:

  • 2 half marathons (Marine Corps Historic Half-Marathon) and Blue & Grey Half Marathon
  • 1 full marathon (Richmond Marathon-Maybe)
  • Army 10-Miler
  • 1 ten-kilometer race– Local race
  • A 5-mile race– 4th of July
  • Possibly 6 (5K) races– Father’s Legacy Race, St. Patty’s Day Race, Fight Against Autism, Go for Bo, and 2 more TBD races.

Altogether, I’m aiming for around 12 races this calendar year — but with flexibility built in.

Because life is unpredictable. Weather changes. Schedules shift. Bodies need rest. And none of that means failure.


Training With Flexibility (And Grace)

This season has reminded me that growth isn’t always about pushing harder — sometimes it’s about adjusting smarter.

Running on the treadmill isn’t ideal for me, but it keeps me moving. Rearranging my race schedule doesn’t mean I’ve lost momentum — it means I’m protecting my health and longevity as a runner.

I’m learning to:

  • listen to my body
  • prioritize safety over stubbornness
  • adapt my goals instead of abandoning them
  • and stay committed without being rigid

That balance matters — not just in running, but in life.


Moving Forward

I still love running. I still love the goals. I still love the feeling of progress.

But I’m also learning to leave space for reality.

This year isn’t about perfection — it’s about consistency, flexibility, and showing up in ways that make sense for the season I’m in. Whether that means icy sidewalks, cancelled races, or treadmill miles, I’m choosing to keep going — thoughtfully.

One run at a time.

Where I get my Running Supplies

Health & Fitness · Health & Fitness

62 Miles for a Cause: My January Movement Challenge with the American Cancer Society

January often comes with pressure to overhaul everything at once—our bodies, our habits, our lives.
This year, I’m choosing something more intentional.

For the month of January, I’m completing a 62-mile movement challenge in support of the American Cancer Society. My goal is to raise $500 to help fund cancer research, patient support, and prevention efforts. If you’d like to support the cause, you can donate here: https://gofund.me/7926ab0e7

This challenge isn’t about speed or perfection. It’s about purpose.

Why 62 Miles Matters to Me

Sixty-two miles, spread across a month, is both a physical and emotional commitment. Some days those miles will be run. Other days they’ll be walked. What matters is showing up consistently and honoring what my body can do on any given day.

Cancer has touched too many lives to feel distant or theoretical. Supporting the American Cancer Society feels like a way to turn movement into meaning—one mile at a time.

How I’m Approaching This Challenge

I’m keeping this challenge sustainable and compassionate. That means:

  • Breaking the miles up across the month
  • Mixing running, walking, and strength training
  • Listening closely to my body and resting when needed
  • Letting progress be measured in effort, not pace

Some days will feel strong.
Some days will feel slow.
Both still count toward the 62 miles.

Movement as Gratitude, Not Punishment

For a long time, exercise felt tied to guilt or pressure. This challenge has helped me shift that mindset.

Each mile is an act of gratitude.
Each step is a reminder that movement can be a privilege.
Each workout supports something bigger than me.

That perspective changes everything.

Why the $500 Goal Matters

The $500 fundraising goal isn’t just a number. It represents:

  • Research that saves lives
  • Support for individuals and families navigating cancer
  • Education and prevention efforts that create long-term impact

Every donation—no matter the size—helps push that work forward.
If you’d like to support my challenge and help me reach my $500 goal, you can donate here: https://gofund.me/7926ab0e7

An Invitation

If you’re moving your body this month, you’re already doing something powerful. If you’re looking for a way to pair movement with purpose, I invite you to support this challenge. Alternatively, find one that aligns with your own “why.”

Your movement doesn’t have to look like mine to matter.

Closing

January doesn’t have to be about becoming someone new.
Sometimes, it’s about showing up as you are and choosing intention over pressure.

This month, I’m moving 62 miles with purpose—for awareness, for hope, and for the people who need it most.