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Thirty-four races, and it’s just another Saturday. Just another 10k, and I run, not drive, to and from Magnuson Park in Seattle, turning the morning into 18 miles. There is nothing remarkable about Race 34, on a course I’ve run before. Except perhaps, the sky.

DNS. Did. Not. Start. Trail runners fear its dirty cousin, the DNF: Did. Not. Finish. But people rarely talk about the DNS which is, to me, the worse of the two by far. The DNF says, “I tried; I really tried and I fell short.” The DNS says, “I never even tried.” Put that way, it seems as though one would need a really, really good reason to DNS. Mine was commute… Read More

One person’s fun run is another person’s race. I signed up for the Beat the Blerch half marathon because someone in my 24,000 person online running group asked me if I was running it. Really, that’s all it took. I didn’t even know they’d be chocolate and bacon dipped marshmallows at the start. Or Doritos. The Blerch is the brainchild of comic artist and author, the Oatmeal. According to the Oatmeal, the… Read More

“I had you down for a 7:40 start, but it’s closer to 7:45, so I’m changing it.” Dena sat at the picnic table, while Rose pointed toward the paved trail. “Go left, and when you get to the end of the pavement in a half mile, turn around and come back. It will be obvious. Then go until you reach the snack station and come back. That’s one lap; 13 miles.” There… Read More

5:00:21 was the time to beat; set in 2016 by a woman who was exhausted in every fiber of her being. Just returned from a 6-week work stint in Grand Forks, North Dakota, where she ate Amy’s frozen rice bowls for lunch and pasta for dinner; politely accepting the chocolate covered potato chips and deep fried Oreos she was offered as “local delicacies.” Despite finishing a 19.5 mile trail run on her… Read More

I visualized the course at Mile 8, when the other half-marathoners and I would make a right turn away from Lake Washington, cutting west into Seattle’s Rainier Vista neighborhood, while the marathoners continued south along Lake Washington Boulevard into Seward Park. When that moment came on Sunday morning I knew I would be overcome with the jealous urge to shout at the marathoners’ backs running away from me, Wait! Wait! Don’t leave… Read More

The clocked ticks to 24:22 as I approach the 5k split, the half-way point in my 10k race. A decade ago, back when I ran 5ks regularly, I used to count anything that started with “24” as a solid race effort. But I don’t race 5ks anymore. Forty-nine minutes. I did the math quickly. 24:22 times two is 48:44; round up to 49:00. My 10k PR is 49:17. It was 2009 and… Read More

Sharon gets into the car, black technical race t-shirt, leggings and neon Asics, holding her iPhone armband in her hand. She reminds me of a younger version of me, had I been a runner when I was her age. “Good morning,” she says. Her Indian accent sounds like chimes. In the drive from the Marriott to Magnuson Park, I point out the University of Washington and Mount Rainier. I describe the race… Read More

Google defines fomo as, anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on a social media website. I having raging race fomo. So when Jennifer, a member of my online running group Run the Year, knowing I lived in Seattle asked if I was running the Hot Chocolate 15k, I registered before responding to her. For the uninitiated, the Hot Chocolate series is… Read More

The last time I ran in Seward Park, I was crying. I was 17 miles into the 2014 Seattle Marathon and, despite double-layered gloves and mittens, I’d lost the use of my fingers to Raynaud’s Syndrome, a disease causing the blood vessels inside the fingers to close in cold temperatures and stress, rendering my hands virtually useless. While you don’t technically need your hands to run a marathon, it’s awfully hard to… Read More