Running from my problems, one mile at a time.
If you’ve ever run a race, you’ve probably gotten this question from your friends, family members, running buddies, and, innocuous (yet annoyingly curious) strangers: “What was your time?” It’s a simple question that holds a TON of weight. It’s invasive, almost — at least, in my opinion. Because once I answer that question, it doesn’t
What to do when you just can’t “run every damn day.”
My first experience with the Boston Marathon was my freshman year of college. I filled my Nalgene bottle (a necessity back then) with cranberry juice and vodka, and went to cheer on the runners with my friends. I clapped at strangers and wore a Yankees baseball hat, for which I was ridiculed for by several
Run From Your Problems 