Run in Gratitude

2025 BROOKLYN HALF RECAP: 

It was a whirlwind of emotions throughout the weekend into this current week. And what a weekend it was. Some disappointment, some soreness, but mostly gratitude. Thankful to be alive, not injured, and to have completed the task at hand. 

I've said this before, but this weekend could not have been a better example. Training does not equal race day. Race day is out of your control. This will sound harsh. This year's Brooklyn Half was probably the worst race I have ever run across any distance, location, or year. Yes, even more painful then both full NYC Marathons. 

The biggest factor at play was quite simple - the weather. The Brooklyn Half has had notoriously bad weather for the past few years. This was my 4th time running it and it has gotten worse each time.

Regardless of experience level, most runners (in the Northeast anyway) have been training in winter or mild temps. Similar to the NYC Marathon, most runners are doing the bulk of their training early morning - not mimicking the later start time of this race. On top of this, climate change has accelerated temperature increases. We've had a few unusually hot days already this spring. Lastly, the historical Brooklyn course is not favorable. The humidity in Prospect Park has runners in a chokehold for the first half of the race and the blazing sun upon black pavement on Ocean Parkway offers no relief for the second half of the race.

And the strange part is - I didn't even see any of this coming. Though I should have. I was beyond well-trained. Mostly well-rested. Nutrition on point. And in good spirits at the start. I studied my pacing plan well to hit my PR goal of sub 2:10 (hoping for 2:07). 

My wave and corral also felt like a big disadvantage. As wave 3, I had a later start than others. Then I experienced a big bottleneck of runners through mile 1 - crowded and extra hot. Though I was immediately suffering, I WAS on my target pace for miles 2-4. In the park, there's a sizeable hill to climb between miles 5-6 where there happens to be the most foliage and tree coverage (extra humid). That's where my pace took went off the rails going from a 9:21 to 10:49. I didn't panic yet, knowing the hill was going to be hard and that I had built in extra buffer time for this. But by the time I exited the park around mile 7...I knew there was no saving it. My pace then continued to plummet - 10:41, 11:13, 11:19. Then I received an alert on my watch from NYRR that a 'dangerous course' advisory has been issued (Ok, well at least I wasn't crazy).

I had to make a mental choice on how to handle the disappointment. I decided to "give up" and start having fun. I danced to spectators' music, I high-fived little kids, I smacked "power up" Super Mario signs, I took a sip of Drew's beer. I used the water stations as little 20-second walking pit-stops to recharge and say thank you to the volunteers. Brooklyn vibes were on point this year. While the race was the worst one I had ever run, the crowd support was inspiring. Strangers, taking time of their day. Celebrating their neighborhood and different cultures.

That was A LOT about me. I wasn't alone! There were over 20,000+ runners with me. Big and small. Black, white, brown, and everything in between. Old and young. Experienced and just getting started. Slow and fast. My people - just like me. With this burning, unexplainable calling. We are never satisfied. 

Rob ran as well (and happy to report that he also suffered, at least I can find solace in my competitive nature). I also tricked (I mean pushed) two newbies to enter the lottery this year on the premise that they'll "never get in". "Oops I did it again" - they got in. My coworker Caroline and my good friend Rebekah tackled their first official Half. While I ran my own race, I found joy in sharing parts of the experience with them, and proud of their accomplishment. There was also a few members of the Milltown crew!

Lastly, in addition to the crowd support, I had some pit crew help along the miles. While I didn't need any supplies this year (wow...I'm experienced now!), I certainly needed the support. And the beer at the end. Don't forget the beer. After, we all celebrated together in Coney Island with hot dogs, oysters, and clams.

Later in the day, I found out about some of the suffering of my people. Similar to past Brooklyn Halfs, there was an extremely tragic death of a young man. Bad news continued to pour in about several ambulances, cardiac issues, collapses, dehydration, and a mental breakdown.

With an official 2025 finish time of 2:18:30 (vs. my PR of 2:10:59 in 2024), I've come to the reality that I'm probably never going to PR this course again. The first thing that popped into my head when I finished was exactly that: I'm no longer going to chase a PR on this course. I'm simply "done". This will always be my favorite race, but I think I'm going to start enjoying it from mile 1 in the future. And simply run in gratitude. 

Attack the Half

Woah it's been a hot minute since my last post. I'm currently on a plane to San Juan, Puerto Rico - a dream trip for me. I've been wanting to come here since the first time I heard a trumpet wail or a reggaeton beat drop. Puerto Rico is music. And I am music. 

We wanted to come here for our honeymoon, but couldn't afford it. 12 years later, we still can't afford it! But through status, points, companion passes...we finally made it happen! But now instead, it's a family trip, and I wouldn't have it any other way. 

I started my day with an 8-mile pre-vacation run back at home. I've been keeping up heavy mileage since my November marathon running anywhere between 8-13 miles long-runs each week + one short run. This is an incredible advantage as I head into spring, with the Brooklyn Half around the corner. 

And, I've been feeling really good. My pace has improved since my 2024 ankle injury. Some days are slow and steady, other days I'm able to experience my pre-injury pace again. 

While 2024 was absolutely the year of PRs, 2025 has not been so far. I'm doing much better in training than the actual races. Many of these recent races have been brutally cold and on little sleep. I ran the NYRR Washington Heights 5K in early March, which happens to be my 5K personal best. But I couldn't hit it this year. I tackled the uphill amazingly, but couldn't get enough speed on the downhill which is odd - I was about a full minute off. 

2025 might be the year of maintenance and level setting for me. 

BUT: I do think there is hope for two distances in particular - the Half and the Marathon. The shorter distances require such effort for such small change, essentially an all out sprint. The longer distances provide more opportunity for small improvements over time. 

I'd like to really attack my Half time this year. 

I'll have two opportunities - Brooklyn (May 17) and Staten Island (October 12). I wasn't satisfied by my marginal PR in Brooklyn last May. I trained so much better than what actually happened that day (same old story). 

This year I'm trying something new. I'm currently in a "plan" to overtrain a bit to 15 miles and a longer two week taper. This avoids doing the last long run just 7 days before the race, and bumps mileage up past the 13.1 that I actually need to run for the Half. We shall see the output of this madness!

Additionally, I've been really focusing on weightlifting this winter - being more consistent about CrossFit and utilizing my new YMCA membership. I might have said it wasn't my year for big running PRs, but I've certainly hit a few lifting ones.

Deadlift = 115#
Back squat = 110#
Strict press = 50#
Overhead squat = 35#

The kids have also been active with us. Pietra ran her first NYRR "mini" race in Washington Heights with me. And Giovanni joined the whole gang for this year's local Saint Patrick's race. Dude took like 20 minutes off his time from last year (little legs!) He told me he likes the finish line feeling the best - don't we all buddy. 

Looking forward to getting in a short run to explore old San Juan this weekend. Travel running is the best form of therapy. 

Preparation, Celebration, & Ordinary Time

In the Catholic church, we often use the terms Preparation, Celebration, and Ordinary Time to describe the different seasons of our liturgical year. Advent and Lent, represented by the color purple, are seasons of preparation. Bigger holidays like Christmas and Easter, represented by the color white, are meant for celebrating - the "big events" of being Catholic. And then there's the largest season of them all, represented by green to signify the growth that happens during the plain old ordinary times of our lives. 

Exactly one month out from my marathon, I can't help but feel a bit sad and lost. It had become my whole identity. In order to run a marathon, it kind of has to become just that. It feels similar to being in a show. I remember back in school we would rehearse for months and months, and then the big night would come - the performance. Music. Tears. Joy. And just like that, it was a over. The patrons would clap, they would gather their coats and belongings, and they would exit the theater. And you were left standing there holding your instrument - thinking "what now?" 

The training was preparation, the marathon was celebration. Now I have entered MY ordinary time. It's not all sad and it won't last very long before I'm busy running again, but it sure feels weird and uncomfortable.

So how did it go? Yes, you have seen a million photos and *very* well produced video by yours truly...but what really happened out there on November 3rd!

It was magnificent. But so many things went wrong. I did not get enough sleep that week - plain and simple. My stress levels were off the charts to the point I was throwing up (TMI). I felt like I was being pulled in a million directions and trying to make everyone happy, while simultaneously feeling guilty about not being grateful or appreciative enough for their support. Plans were changing by the second, and I was the only one responsible for "fixing them" and to make sure everyone was taken care of. I was not focused on running a marathon. I think next year, Rob and I are going to plan for a much simpler experience. I had my big "hurrah" twice now. Perhaps round 3 warrants a different approach. 

After running the Abbott Dash, my nose started running pretty badly. It didn't concern me at first. There was a big temperature change that day and I've historically been sensitive to that. I figured it would clear up in a few hours. It didn't. And then it turned into swelling and congestion. I wonder if something was brewing all week and I was suppressing it going 100mph fixing things. I had to take some pretty serious medicine to get me through the next day (hey, it worked?) The strange part was that the symptoms never came back. 

And then there was the infamous wall. Everyone has a different wall. But there's a spot that's very common for the majority of people. I'm one of those people (yay for being average?) MILE 22 - the killer. Just like last year, my pace plummeted once I came out of the Bronx and entered Harlem. Last year, I was tired. I was slowing down because I was tired. This year felt different. I remember looking down at my watch a few times and the numbers were not making sense to me. Almost like they were blurry or jumbled, but not in a vision way. In a comprehension way. I also kept forgetting where I was. Did I pass the mile marker yet? Is it in front of me? In back of me? This doesn't like like a big deal for someone running 26+ miles, but I promise that I knew exactly where I was every second before that. This was...strange. Something was definitely happening to my body. Abort mission! Move resources elsewhere! One theory post-mortem is that my sodium was low. I'm confident that my carb intake was spot on, but I might need some additional sodium separately next year. Simultaneously, my leg-hip thingy (IT band) also started to flare up at this point. Like a raging fire in my leg. My friend Kristen had to aggressively roll it during a quick pitstop when I saw her coming down 5th Ave. 

And then there were the stand-out positive moments! 

I ran my target pace perfectly from miles 0 to 22. I was so much more consistent that last year. I was on track to hit 4:45:00 (well, until mile 22!) Discipline for the win.

On the Queensboro bridge, I tucked myself behind a nice man in a yellow shirt and drafted off him the entire bridge. Before I knew it, the difficult bridge was over. It wasn't this big scary thing anymore. 

And lastly, I got to see my daughter Pietra on the course this year for hugs and high fives. I think she believes marathon chasing is a lot of work - and she's not wrong! 

Ok  - so what about the shirt?

A few people asked me about the meaning of my marathon shirt. Obviously it was a Taylor Swift reference. No, I'm not a big Taylor Swift fan (though I've come to appreciate her song writing more this year). Perhaps it has become more relatable with age. Originally, it was meant to signify revenge. For all the people who have wronged me. The ones that didn't believe in me. The ones who have made remarks about my body. The ones who abandoned me when I became a Mom. The ones who have deeply hurt me. I still carry the weight of a lot of that pain today. 

But the song took on a new meaning. Yes, at surface level its about revenge. But if you listen carefully, its also about Taylor's own death. The death of her old self. It's about being wiser and stronger. 

When I first started running (or doing any of this fitness stuff really), much of it was to prove something to other people. To prove that I can have a better looking body - not just the chubby girl. To prove I can do what the jocks once made fun of me for. To prove to my male dominated family and within my career path -  that I could gain their acceptance and not just be "the girl". To be their equal. 

But it wasn't working. It's still not working. So maybe it's not my body that needs to change, but my mentality. Now - it's about knowing my worth. It's pretty damn high. And it's about finally shedding the persona of the girl who needs everyone's approval. 

So as I was running, mile by mile, I let each one of those things go. Whether it was my own insecurity, a bad memory, a person who hurt me...I let them go. I said to them "if I can run this mile, you will no longer hurt me". And that's just what I did. And that's "what they made me do". I also looked pretty good doing it too. 

NYC Marathon 2024
Jackie M.F. Bosco
4:57:14 

Ready for my New Era

While October was the dress rehearsal, November 1 is opening night - and the main show November 3 is so close. Today I'm packing my bags, going through checklists, laying out all the carefully selected items that have been tested and adjusted over the past few months. I'm looking back through notes from my marathon experience last year to remember things like "oh man that sucked", or "don't forget this!", and "you really didn't need that item." 

Simultaneously, I'm trying to help Rob navigate his own journey through advice and some forceful planning. Though he's annoyingly cool as a cucumber! 

The stress has been real this week. Big time. And funny enough, nothing to do with running. Personal drama and logistics! Oh and did I mention logistics. While the most well organized in the world, the NYC Marathon is complicated. We're fortunate enough to have a hotel room for the next 3 nights in the center of all the action, but it's still complicated. Normally - 9 million residents and 2 million commuters/visitors. Plus an additional 2 million spectating and 55,000 runners. It's crowded! And there's a lot of "be here, at this time, for this thing" over the next few days.

This year in particular, our schedule feels crammed. We have one less night in the city than we usually do because of the way Halloween fell this year and our need to be home with the kids. Consequently, we had to cut a few things out of the schedule. And cram other parts of the schedule to somehow make it all work. I did take off work today even though I had to stay local to prepare, pack, and honestly rest my brain a little. 

The best part of today was getting my marathon nails done. I think it's the only joy I've felt all week amidst the stress, personal drama, and fatigue. Of course, it doesn't actually matter. But it matters to me. Actually a lot. There's something special about doing something so physically demanding and traditionally masculine, while also being highly feminine at the same time. I love that about my personality. And I enjoy celebrating it whenever  I can - even through my crazy marathon nails!

Tomorrow morning we depart for Manhattan. Physically - I'm ready. I have a pacing plan that looks different than last year (my future self will probably laugh at this). I'm really hoping to practice self-control for the first Half of the race. I would love to feel stronger than last year coming off the Queensboro bridge at mile 16. And I would like to not zonk out during miles 22-25 like I did last year. I was so very tired and struggling to move forward. And I hated that feeling.

My training has me projected at a 4:35 finish. But as I've mentioned before, so many things are out of my control for race day vs. the training. 

I keep trying to remind myself that I couldn't run a single mile in September coming off injury. It's nothing short of miraculous how quickly I ramped up and that I'm actually running a marathon feeling this strong. Actually, it wasn't a miracle at all. I worked my ass off. And I had a lot people in my corner helping me medically, helping with the kids, running alongside me, and texts and phone calls of encouragement (I got a bunch today!) 

I've also felt a lot of angst lately that somehow has been fueling me (for better or worse) about past relationships, disappointment, my challenges with faith, and the state of the country. And lots of swirling feelings about betterment, death to old self, and even karma. 

This year my marathon shirt will pay tribute to these recent feelings. You could say, the shirt is going to describe my current "Era".

The Dress Rehearsal

We are less than 3 weeks out from the 2024 TCS NYC Marathon (insert panic emoji here). Admittedly, I'm starting to enter my usual manic state, obsessing over every detail (running and non-running related). And generally in workout overload. I just can't stop moving. Since my last post, I have tackled a 14, 16, and 18 mile long run successfully and injury free. This past weekend was the "dress rehearsal", the Staten Island Half. Rob and I went through the motions - the packing, the train, the hotel, the meal prep, the ferry. It's weird to say "Rob and I" as I have sucked him into my world (or maybe he's just trying to run away FROM me).

We learned a few things during our rehearsal. Most of these things I knew already, but it was a good slap in the face reminder. Some were new considerations for Rob altogether. We always overdo it - adding unnecessary stops and obligations. We thought it was a good idea to lug my bicycle into Manhattan because it needed a repair. On the surface, not a big deal. But added some time and logistic pressure that should have been avoided. Our dinner was lack-luster and disappointing, and even a touch too late with slow service. Despite having the hotel, we did not get a good night sleep. We tried a new hotel to be closer to the ferry - specific to this Half, and we didn't like it. Not a big deal for one night, but can certainly ruin the vibe for 3 nights leading up to a marathon. 

The next morning, we left plenty of time to get to the ferry, but it wasn't enough. The terminal was crowded. We didn't get on the boat that was just departing and had to wait for the next one. Rob was Wave 1 - 8am and I was Wave 2 - 8:30am. We both had to use the bathroom again. When we finally arrived in Staten Island, Rob just had enough time to take off his sweatshirt and run to his corral. Keep in mind this was only a small race of 9,000 runners, and the corrals were right next to the ferry terminal. The marathon will be 55,000 runners, 5 waves, 2 million spectators, and major road closures. 

The morning of the marathon we need to take a subway to the ferry, the ferry to Staten Island, then a bus to Fort Wadsworth. With no issues at all, it's about a 3 hour journey. They DO run more ferries that day, it was a constant flow last year. But regardless, this snags during this experience left is a little uneasy and paranoid. 

Net-Net: There are so many things out of your control for a race that would be normally be in your control during training.  

During the race, neither of us were happy with our clothes. I was ridiculously hot from the second I started running. I cannot physically wear less clothing besides just my sports bra, but then I have no where to pin my bib. I've tried about 25 shirts and it feels too late to make a change now. I'm wondering if making some adjustments to my existing shirt could help, but would still need to test that out again. For Rob it was less about temperature and more about being uncomfortable - his shirt was rubbing in all the wrong places. 

But lots of things DID go well. Really well in fact. 

We spent time together and had some little moments walking around Seaport. Looking at old ships, fresh produce and flowers, getting a really good coffee, talking to some dude on his motorcycle, playing our favorite game "spot the Italians". And we got to catch-up with Kara and Amanda after the race on Sunday for brunch. 

We ran well - and at the end of the day, that's what matters. Even if we were suffering during it (though it would be great to prevent as much of that suffering in advance as possible). 

Rob set a new Half PR of 1:44:48 and I set a new course PR of 2:14:05, significantly beating both of my times from 2022 and 2023. I had planned on taking it slow but was able to keep up with the 2:10 pacer for 2/3 of the course. Once I was approaching the Verrazzano though, I felt myself slowing and her cadence was no longer mine. I knew there were a bunch of giant hills ahead and pushing to keep up with her wasn't going to end well for me. So I let her go - and ran my own race until the end. 

The views under the Verrazzano and the Manhattan skyline were simply breathtaking. You feel so small next to them, but also so big at the same time. It was a weird paradox - none of this matters, all of this matters. I think the thing about running that people don't truly understand is that it's not really about running at all. It's about humanity. It's about struggle and triumph. 

This week I will take on my last long-run - 20 miles. It will take me a little less than 4 hours and I will definitely be taking it slow. Last year I ran this with my friend Megan. This year, I'm not sure yet if it's going to be a solo venture. Then I will have a 2 week taper with much lighter running and activity overall. I think normal people call it REST. 

As we approach November 3rd...

Hopefully the temperature starts to cool down.
Hopefully we figure out our clothing issues.
Hopefully we find more of those little moments to remind us about the humanity of running. 

See you in 3 weeks Staten Island for the "full show".

Ain't No Rest for the Wicked

We are officially 6 weeks out from the 2024 NYC Marathon. Most folks have the bulk of their training behind them with maybe 1-2 more long runs to go. Meanwhile I have spent the past 4 weeks aggressively catching up. There has been very little rest for the wicked. 

Initially, I leaned heavily into cycling to keep up my fitness in a safer way - less lateral movement, low impact, not putting weight on my ankle. I did a 10, 12, 14, 15, 16, and 17 mile bike ride to mimic what would have been my long runs. 

BUT on August 16th, I was cleared to run. Happy birthday to me. The following Monday, I took my first few steps - ankle wrapped, 1 minute walking, 1 minute "running". It was painful both mentally and physically. But this was not my first rodeo with injury, so I also knew what to expect. It was wobbly, it was slow, but I got through it. Two days later I gave it another go. Then another - for a longer distance. By the next week I unwrapped my ankle and did my first true run - a 5K. It wasn't pretty, but the muscle memory did come back to me. One foot in front of the other. Literally!

So where am I now 4 weeks later? I took some pretty big jumps after that. 6 miles, 8 miles, 10 miles, and 12 miles as of last week. This week I will tackle my 14 miles. I wasn't kidding when I said no rest. From this point on, my progression is only upward. It has to be...with such a crunched timeline.

But I have to admit, reinjury is top of mind. And the odds feel really high. I've been trying to protect myself the best I can with the timing of my runs, my slower pace, and making sure I cap-end the long runs with true rest or active recovery. There is no room for error in this plan. I'm also keeping an eye on my reoccurring IT band issue - the slower pace is good mitigation to that for now.

As I've got back to running, I've also been able to return to running with my running club on some mornings. There's something about like-minded people commiserating about challenges, failures, and triumphs that is extremely comforting. People who may look different than you, but speak the same "language" as you. Their support has been unwavering.

This past week, I made an uneasy return to CrossFit. Yes, I'm scared. But I need the cross-training to help my running. And I missed the feeling of the metal barbell on my hands too much. In the end, CrossFit will always be my "first love". My fitness impetus. But as my goals have shifted over time, and frankly, as I get older, the way I approach the activity is likely going to continue to be more supplemental and cautious. As long as running is the priority, I'll never be able to give 100% at CrossFit. 

This is my current mix until the marathon:

• CrossFit
• Short Run
• HIIT
• Short Bike
• Long Run
• REST
• Long Bike

As I continue my long-run progression from 14, 16, 18, 20 - Rob and I have the Staten Island Half smacked right between the 18 and 20 miler. This will be the true "test" of how I operate in a race setting. 

Praying for good rest, a steady pace, and a solid time to help boost my confidence in my body's ability to perform.

Welp! I messed that up!

I cannot stress enough how much my body refuses to be who I want it to be (said mostly in  jest and in the spirit of self-deprecation). 

Everything has been going incredibly well on the fitness front for me these past few months. Lots of PRs across activities! So much consistency and dedication! Even Italy was a success. I dined! I wined! I ran and used the gym! 2024 NYC Marathon here I come...

Then I got hurt. Welp! I messed that good streak up didn't I?

The next morning after coming back from our Italy trip, I went to an early morning CrossFit class (July 15). Honestly, I did not feel particularly tired or jetlagged. I even had a good night sleep. During class, we did a great warm-up so I felt prepared. The actual WOD involved box jumps, which I don't do anymore because of all my ankle and IT band injuries (you'll see...but LOL). No problem, I've been doing step-ups for years now (same box height, no jumping up, but I do jump down). It's challenging enough for my needs without risking getting hurt.

What happened makes NO sense to me. This is a movement that I have done in some fashion for 10+ years now. I know the mechanics, the risks, how to land - all of it. At the very end of the WOD, after my last rep, I remember looking up at the clock while standing on the box to check my finish time. I remember making eye contact with the coach and doing some kind of head nod or thumbs up that I finished. Then I don't remember exactly what I did next. I fell off the box....and all my weight went onto my right ankle (haha! Not the usual one I sprain, a newbie!)

Was the adrenaline hiding my fatigue and my leg cramped or gave out causing me to fall off the box? Did I misstep? Did I lose my balance? Did I try to jump down and misjudged something? Another peer nearby later told me that it almost looked like I crumbled off the box. Everyone agreed that it was bizarre.

As soon as it happened, I knew it was really bad. This is not my first rodeo. I felt immediate sharp pain. Swelling within minutes. Bruising within hours. Even more swelling that night. Of course I followed protocol right away: Rest, Ice, Compress, Elevate. I was seen by my trusty doc a few days later as well once the swelling went down a bit to assess the damage and get an actual diagnosis. Grade 2 sprain in 2 places (joy!) -  I sprained the calcaneofibular and posterior talofibular ligaments.

So what does this mean for the marathon? Mind you - I was 1/4 through my training when this happened. So about 4 weeks into a 16 week plan. 

I haven't run in 3 weeks which really sucks, especially for my mental health. I was a little ahead with my training, but the window of that advantage has now closed. I just started biking this week because I'm now able to lock out my ankle mostly pain-free and push a pedal. The goal is to now replace what was on the schedule for a long run with biking (e.g. 14 miles running becomes 14 miles biking).

I have also been doing mini WODS involving rounds of seated dumbbell press, kneeling push-ups, and sit-ups from home. There are not many things that don't use your ankle or that are not weight bearing on your feet! I've also been paying more attention to nutrition and supplements to help the healing process along.

This sprain feels different than the past. It's hard to put into words, but I feel different. The sprain feels different. At this point, I'm trying not to be too depressingly pessimistic or naively optimistic though. I'm still in the early stage of this injury to really know what my next steps in terms of events will be (no pun intended).

OK - I lied. Let's speculate. I think the absolute best case scenario is that I start running the last week of August. And when I say running, I mean first steps. 1 mile, 2 miles, 3 miles max. Forget about pace (what is pace...what is life). 

Then I start ramping up with 8 weeks to go until the marathon (that's actually disgusting to even write down - 8 weeks!) 

• What does the first long run look like? 
• How far do I train until? (is the final "long" 16, 18, 20 miles?)
• How much rest do I give myself between long runs now that I'm on an expediated timeline?
• How do I play catch-up while simultaneously not risk re-injury?
• What's my cut off point of deciding if I need to defer? (insert crying emoji here) 

Per usual, the Staten Island Half (October 13) will be a good test. Damn that race. Because of it's timing, it has literally been a "test" for me every year for various reasons.

There's a lot to unpack here. Getting hurt sucks. The way I got hurt feels particularly dumb. The timing is awful (couldn't this have happened December through May!) It's difficult to explain to people how the running world revolves around events. It's really no different the seasons of various sports. All the work you put into your craft is for the events and the races. And then there's the whole aspect that much of what I specifically do is not just "sign up, anyone can do it". So there's also all the time, money, resources that have been put into earning those entries and invitations. 

All of this to say - I'm sorry that I'm constantly complaining! Just remember: 

YOU TOO can get off the couch, strive for a healthy lifestyle, and be hurt all the time just like me (also said in jest, but only sort of).