Last weekend I did something I wasn't sure I would do again: I completed the NY Half Marathon.
If you've been here for a while you might remember I had a big fall when I was training for the marathon in 2022.
With a head laceration that required stitches and glue, a fractured elbow, and a busted knee I had to drop out of the race.
And when I got the clear to run after healing... I just couldn't do it.
What if I fell again?
Thing was, I missed running... and I missed being a runner.
I started running in my mid-30s to disprove a lifelong story of "I am not a runner."
I debunked the belief and found something I really enjoyed - giving me long lulls of solitude to think, listen to books, and explore different areas of the city.
Most of all it gave me a way to manage my energy.
I had been feeling the pull back to it for months when I got an email from NYRR about the NY Half lottery entries.
I decided to put in, knowing there was almost no chance.
"If I get in, the universe wants me to run."
A few days later I got an email that I was in. It was time to lace up my runners again.
Training was surprisingly easy, even though I'm slow AF now (not that I was ever fast).
And I was really excited to run this race again.
So Sunday morning, I got out there with 28,500 others and ran 13.1 miles.
I did it despite the fact I had a cold that kept me up most of the night and a bad shoulder flared up which put me out of alignment. I kept going when thought I injured my knee at mile 10 because at that point i was going to get over the finish line one way or another (and from the point of injury I walked about half).
And when I crossed the finish line, I did something I hadn't done since my first half marathon back in 2019.
I cried.
What was holding me back from running wasn't a fear of falling. It was a lack of trust in myself.
Each stride (and stumble I saved myself from) helped me rebuild that trust.
I can protect myself. I can keep myself safe. I can tell when to run and when to stop (the injury definitely reminded me of that).
I can honor myself.
I can even surprise myself; If my cold meds had held up and I hadn't had the injury I would have beaten the time I expected.
Crossing the finish line was a massive win, and I'm unapologetically proud of myself for it.
Jennifer Brick
Last weekend I did something I wasn't sure I would do again: I completed the NY Half Marathon.
If you've been here for a while you might remember I had a big fall when I was training for the marathon in 2022.
With a head laceration that required stitches and glue, a fractured elbow, and a busted knee I had to drop out of the race.
And when I got the clear to run after healing... I just couldn't do it.
What if I fell again?
Thing was, I missed running... and I missed being a runner.
I started running in my mid-30s to disprove a lifelong story of "I am not a runner."
I debunked the belief and found something I really enjoyed - giving me long lulls of solitude to think, listen to books, and explore different areas of the city.
Most of all it gave me a way to manage my energy.
I had been feeling the pull back to it for months when I got an email from NYRR about the NY Half lottery entries.
I decided to put in, knowing there was almost no chance.
"If I get in, the universe wants me to run."
A few days later I got an email that I was in. It was time to lace up my runners again.
Training was surprisingly easy, even though I'm slow AF now (not that I was ever fast).
And I was really excited to run this race again.
So Sunday morning, I got out there with 28,500 others and ran 13.1 miles.
I did it despite the fact I had a cold that kept me up most of the night and a bad shoulder flared up which put me out of alignment. I kept going when thought I injured my knee at mile 10 because at that point i was going to get over the finish line one way or another (and from the point of injury I walked about half).
And when I crossed the finish line, I did something I hadn't done since my first half marathon back in 2019.
I cried.
What was holding me back from running wasn't a fear of falling. It was a lack of trust in myself.
Each stride (and stumble I saved myself from) helped me rebuild that trust.
I can protect myself. I can keep myself safe. I can tell when to run and when to stop (the injury definitely reminded me of that).
I can honor myself.
I can even surprise myself; If my cold meds had held up and I hadn't had the injury I would have beaten the time I expected.
Crossing the finish line was a massive win, and I'm unapologetically proud of myself for it.
What are you doing to push yourself this year?
9 months ago | [YT] | 119