I Completed My First Marathon — and It Started with One Mile
An average person’s journey from couch to 42k in one year
I have never identified as an athlete. Before I started running, I’d work out maybe once per month — when someone else invited me to join them at a fitness class, or something.
I didn’t do sports in high school. I’m one of those people who would pay for a gym membership and never go.
But a little over one year ago, I had just stopped drinking, and a friend invited me on a run around the lake.
I think I said yes because I was learning just how to support myself without a glass of wine in my hands. Running sounded like something that built stability.
I still remember that run. Probably because by the end of it, I was physically unable to walk. We started our second mile — but I couldn’t even complete it. I ended up crawling over to a bench as I waited for my friend to find me some water.
It was embarrassing.
For some reason, I kept going on those runs. Once every couple of days, we would run one lap around the lake, sit down for a break, and then run our second lap.
Instead of nursing a hangover, I was nursing my body.
