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I signed up for another marathon in a month. Riding the wave.
Three years ago, I started one of my life’s greatest journeys. Running was always a hobby, but I wasn’t different from thousands, probably millions of running enthusiasts. Then something happened in the spring of 2020, the “pandemic” year. What exactly happened? I’m trying to remember, to reminisce, but I can’t put my finger on it — why did I decide to run more? What made me think I could become very good? There is this cool memory:
But I can’t attribute my journey to a single event or reason.
In the course of six months, between the spring of that year and the fall, I lost 25 pounds. I ran more, started to lose weight, and ran even more because I felt much lighter and faster. I educated myself on different types of running. It helped that my oldest son was knowledgeable about running — he had dropped tennis and switched to running at high school.
Fast forward to today. I’ve been running every day for two and half years now. I ran last night, and I already ran this morning. When I finish my long run tomorrow, I will have run eight-five miles this week. Sixty three as of now, on Saturday:
