Run Lola Run

Whether it's a 5K or a marathon, there's nothing worse than being passed by an 80 year-old man with a hunched back and pot belly. I start every race feeling confident, fit and well-prepared and generally end up feeling frustrated and completely incredulous as to how so many seemingly unfit people manage to finish before me. And I've come to the conclusion that slow and steady does NOT win the race.

Not that I race to win, but slow and steady has been my mantra, both in running and in life. And it's simply not working for me any more. I want to build the strength, speed and stamina necessary to carry me through 26.2 miles with confidence and to tackle similar challenges with equal determination and certitude.

When I first started running nearly ten years ago, a slow pace was critical, as my fairly severe asthma made it difficult for me to run from one driveway to the next. Gradually, I built up to a 5k with a respectable finish time of 35 minutes, and now, nearly a decade later, I'm preparing for my first marathon. In spite of what I've achieved, I still run like I did in the beginning--slow and steady, worried about exacerbating my asthma, afraid of not having enough stamina to finish and paranoid about injuries.

Until recently, my approach to life was pretty much the same--doing the bare minimum to get by in boring, dead-end jobs; staying in a marriage because it was "comfortable;" living too much into others' expectations and fearing the unknown. And then I started listening to my heart and relying on an inner strength I never knew I possessed. I started my own business, walked away from a life I had been building for nearly eight years and tackled a new running distance--not a one of them comfortable or easy. Nor is it safe to freelance with no safety net, to build a new relationship while shadows of the old one remain or to conquer the demons that have been following me my entire adult life--and yet, I forge bravely into the unknown, with confidence and faith.

This approach is much like the tempo run, which challenges you to run at a fast, slightly uncomfortable pace, trusting that the discipline will make you stronger, faster and more confident come race day. Except my race day is every day. And I'm ready to stretch, to grow, to build--to live.