My Decision to Run for Longevity, Not speed!
As a follow-up to last week’s blog post about slowing down to speed up and embracing the art of the “comfortable pace,” I decided to make this week’s article more of a personal journal entry about my own running journey, and the change in mindset I’ve had over the last couple of years that has made me a happier, healthier runner! Next week we’ll go back to a more knowledge and science-based topic, I promise!
Discovering Distance Running
Growing up, I was an athlete, but more of what I’d call a “noncommittal” one, at best. I spent my childhood dabbling in all sorts of sports and activities—I went from dance to figure skating to gymnastics to horseback riding, and then finally discovered my love for running at a soccer camp I randomly decided to go to in eighth grade. In high school, my favorite sport was field hockey, and I joined the winter and spring track teams more for the social aspect than anything else.
It wasn’t until I was in college that I discovered my love for distance running. I attended the University of Maryland, a HUGE campus, and when my off-campus apartment in junior and senior year became just a little too far from the school’s gym, I took up running laps at the much closer track, and eventually stared increasing my mileage to run the streets of College Park and into Washington, DC.
My senior year, my aunt (a very seasoned marathon runner) convinced me to run my first marathon, the Baltimore Marathon, and while the thought of running 26.2 miles seemed incredibly daunting to me, I agreed to take on her challenge and signed up. This was 17 years ago, and marathon running was not nearly as mainstream as it is now. I downloaded a free Hal Higdon beginner’s marathon program (IYKYK) and convinced myself that running 8-10 miles a day would suffice. While I did finish Baltimore in just about 4.5 hours, it was painful, it was ugly... and I was hooked.
Following my first marathon and my subsequent move to Washington, DC for my first job, I scoured Craigslist for last minute marathon bibs, and between 2007 and 2012, ran about 18 marathons—the majority of which were not in my own name. I ran some of them back to back—and still without the proper training or fueling I definitely needed in those early distance running years.
Breaking The Three-Hour Barrier
Fast forward to 2013-2015. I had moved back to Boston, ran the Boston Marathon twice as a charity and invitational runner following the 2013 bombings, and finally committed to trying to qualify for Boston in 2016. I signed up for the Chicago Marathon in 2015, and trained and ran with a close friend who was much faster than I was, but who really inspired me to push my limits both endurance-wise and speed-wise. She had already broken the elusive three-hour marathon barrier, and was committed to helping to pace me to BQ. With her help, I ran a 3:30 qualifying time that year in Chicago, shaving nearly 45 minutes off of my first marathon time.
With the help of a speedy training partner, cross training and strength (hello, Barry’s!) and the commitment to following a structured program, I was hooked to the beauty of a PR. I have never been one to shy away from a lofty goal, so after shaving so much time off my first marathon, I set a VERY big goal to break three hours the following year in Chicago. I was connected to my first running coach, and committed to doing everything in my power to accomplish this big dream of mine.
The summer of 2016 was one I will truly never forget. I was consistently running 90-100+ mile weeks, with every weekend dominated by a long tempo run and every weekday morning consumed by mile or 1000m repeats at the track. When I wasn’t running, I was eating or sleeping. Running became like a second full-time job for me, and while my coach’s approach was effective and knowledgable, I didn’t realize how mentally bad this approach to running was for me.
When I didn’t hit a mile split or felt sluggish during a long run (keep in mind, I was teaching morning classes so most of my weekday runs were happening in the highest heat index of any given day), I was incredibly hard on myself. I oftentimes would re-do workouts, adding to my already very over-exerted body and mind. I became obsessed with my sub-3 goal to the point where I was physically unable to do much of anything else besides run. I turned down social events, felt like I wasn’t able to give 100% to my teaching job or my friends and family, and would tell myself I was a horrible runner if my mile splits were just a few seconds off.
In October of 2016, I ran Chicago with my training partner and good friend, and we did it—we ran 2:58:08 (which is still my PR to this day). The immense pride and sense of accomplishment I had for myself were fleeting, though. After taking a day or two to celebrate, I was back to running and more determined than ever. You see, I had confused a PR and the act of shaving time off my first marathon with a trend that would continue forever. This is idea is known is weightlifting as the “novice effect”—simply described, it is what happens when a previously untrained person begins to lift weights—she gets stronger very quickly at first, and then improves less and less rapidly the stronger she gets. Similarly, when I was an untrained runner, I was able to improve my times very quickly, but the more and more I ran and honed in on my training plans, my improvement window began to close quickly.
A Mindset Shift
In the years between 2016 and 2020, when the global pandemic put a pause on organized running, I set bigger and more challenging goals for myself—wanting to break 2:55 and even a bigger goal of breaking 2:50 at one point. However, every attempt I made, I failed and was harder on myself. I fired my coach, blaming him for my shortcomings, and became a certified run coach so I could train myself. However, I was not able to hit the paces I needed to break my PR, and every race, would allow adrenaline to carry me through the first half of the race at a wildly blazing speed, only to bonk repeatedly before the 35k mark. While I never DNF’ed a race, I was miserable. I was setting myself up for failure time after time, and was enjoying literally NONE of the process. My training was all over the place, I was running outside of my ability, and I was spending every race either staring at the ground in front of me or my watch, and then fighting back tears and self-loathing the second half of every marathon.
When the world shut down in 2020 and there was a global pause on marathons, I experienced a major mindset shift. With no races to train for and nothing to do but explore on my own two feet, I pulled back my speed on long runs and allowed myself to run for distance, not for time. I would tell myself that I would run for two hours at an easy pace and see where the road took me—and oftentimes, didn’t even turn my Garmin on. I eventually ditched my watch altogether, and just ran routes I knew well for the experience. And a beautiful thing happened. Physically, I felt so much better. Many of the nagging aches and pains and stomach issues that were persistent and tied to running outside of my comfort zone were gone. I was no longer beating myself up for my mile splits. I was able to explore more strength training and focused on getting stronger, not faster. And I was able to start really focusing on curating my run coaching program, so I could train others to run for the love of the sport, not ONLY for splits.
Enjoy the journey
It’s now 2025, and I am 39 years old, I have completed 47 marathons, two ultramarathons, countless road races and half marathons, and a powerlifting competition. I am the slowest runner I have ever been. I am now at the stage where I am reversing my PRs—every marathon I run is just slightly slower than the last. But I am the happiest, strongest, healthiest runner I have ever been.
I am all for setting big goals and big dreams, and absolutely LOVE helping guide my runners to big PRs. But more importantly, I cannot stress enough how important it is to enjoy the journey. Running is a sport that I want to do for my entire life—I am talking running marathons for as long as I am on this earth - and in order to do so, one must be a balanced runner, both physically and mentally.
If you a runner struggling with mental health issues and feelings of low self esteem and self worth, and looking to change your mindset when it comes to training, please reach out. Running is not only about times on the clock—it’s about enjoying every step of the process and embracing the longevity of the sport. Here’s to happy, healthy miles.
Xo