Qualifying for the Boston Marathon Took More Than Running
How trauma nearly kept me from achieving my running goals
I started running because it kept me from crying. I was 11 years old and my oldest sister, who was also my best friend, had been diagnosed with leukemia. I was scared she was going to die, and I had nowhere to go with my fears. One summer day a few months after her diagnosis, I started walking towards the dirt road that ran past our house and my legs kept moving, faster and faster, until I was running down the road away from our farm.
I ran two miles that day — the most liberating two miles of my life. I found a salve for my wounds that no one could take away. The power of movement and physical exertion with the wind at my back and the sun on my face was an exhilarating freedom. Running became my sacred space and where I went to make sense of the world. It was both therapy and an escape — the antidote to my pain and where I could go to feel whole and powerful.
My sister survived, and I kept running, eventually tackling my first marathon as part of the Leukemia Society’s Team in Training program. It felt like a fitting tribute to my sister and her survival. At that race, I learned about the prestige of running in the Boston Marathon and what it took to qualify. I began studying qualifying times and…
