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.

This season has been full of gratitude, growth, and quiet victories — both on and off the pavement. By the time you read this, I will have crossed the finish lines of two meaningful races: the Turkey Trot I ran with my oldest daughter, and the Blue and Gray Half Marathon, which I completed just yesterday on December 7th.

This year’s Turkey Trot was more than just a race. It was a celebration, a tradition, and a moment of connection I’ll always hold close. Running it with my daughter made it even more special. She is one of the biggest reasons I strive to grow — emotionally, academically, and professionally. Sharing those early-morning jitters, the laughter, the determination, and finally the pride of reaching the finish line together reminded me why these moments matter.

Races like this aren’t just about miles or pace. They’re about memories. They’re about showing our children what resilience looks like. They’re about joy, community, and carrying traditions forward in ways that feel both familiar and new.

And then came the Blue and Gray Half Marathon — now in its 25th year. Yesterday was my first time running it, and it lived up to everything I had heard. There is a different kind of magic in running through familiar streets, surrounded by neighbors, friends, and volunteers who cheer because they recognize you, or simply because they want to see you win.

Completing this race also marks a personal milestone:
My first time finishing two half marathons in one calendar year.

I showed up yesterday with more confidence, more experience, and a deeper appreciation for what my body can do. Running has been an anchor for me in seasons when I needed strength, clarity, and a sense of grounding. And crossing that finish line reminded me, yet again, that I am capable of so much more than I often give myself credit for.

Every early morning run, every long training day, every mile logged led to that moment — and I’m proud of myself for trusting the process and honoring the journey.

December feels like a month of finishing strong, celebrating progress, and stepping into the new year with purpose.

5 Things I Learned from Racing This Year

1. My body is stronger than I thought.

Every race — from 5Ks to half marathons — revealed strength I didn’t know I was building. Growth often shows up at the finish line, long after the work is done.

2. Showing up matters more than speed.

Some days felt effortless; others were a struggle. But every time I laced up and stepped outside, that was the real victory.

3. Running with family brings a different kind of joy.

Sharing the Turkey Trot with my daughter reminded me that movement can be a source of connection, laughter, and memories that last long after the race ends.

4. Community energy is its own kind of fuel.

From volunteers to cheering strangers, the support along the course gives you a lift you didn’t know you needed — and carries you farther than you expected.

5. Every race teaches you something about yourself.

Each finish line offered a lesson — patience, resilience, self-trust, gratitude. The miles helped me see who I’m becoming and what I’m capable of.

As I close out this year, I’m already looking ahead to my 2026 race season — a year I plan to challenge myself in new ways. My goal is to complete two half marathons, one full marathon, one 5K every month, and three 10Ks within the same calendar year. I already have a few races in mind, and right now I’m focused on creating a realistic financial plan to make it all possible. Running has become more than a hobby for me; it’s a commitment to my growth, my health, and the example I’m setting for my children. Stepping into 2026, I’m excited to continue building consistency, discipline, and joy — one race, one mile, one moment at a time.

Tag: health goals

Running Toward 65: Taking Control of My Health