How I finally decided to run a half marathon – and reconnected with myself in the process

How I finally decided to run a half marathon – and reconnected with myself in the process

Girl registers for a half marathon. Girl creates a training plan. Girl sets goal. Girl never trains...and, you probably guessed it, girl never runs the race.

ICYMI, I'm that girl. Or at least I've been that girl for the last three races I've signed up for (and paid for!) from Wein.

I was a total commitment-phobe when it came to racing.

Making excuses is easy

I've always been a very ambitious person, but when I moved from Georgia to New York City two years ago, that drive was disrupted by the anxiety brought on by the adjustments many New York transplants are likely to experience: the seasonal depression, the overwhelming ratio of concrete to (very little) nature, and the rude awakening that is a $15 glass of wine (once $5). All of these changes became overwhelming—so much so that my motivation to complete even tasks I once looked forward to soon disappeared. Simply put, I was anxious, unmotivated, and feeling less and less like myself.

As I realized what was happening, I struggled to find a way to get my ambition back, eventually landing on the idea that maybe if I could just focus all my attention and effort on more commitments - half marathons, diet changes, yoga - I might be able to distract myself from this newfound nervousness and thus get my mojo back.

Repeat something over and over and you'll start to believe it—at least like it did for me, when I convinced myself that the more goals I set for myself and the more pressure I put on myself, the more I'll be able to fight off my icky feelings and find my motivation again. And so I signed up for a half marathon… and another… and another. Before I moved to NYC, I loved running. But just like my ambition, my passion for pounding the pavement waned as my fear increased. So I was sure that the training would keep me busy and make my mind a little less anxious.

However, I was a pro at making excuses every time I signed up for these halves and it came time to start training. See, I was still keeping up with hot yoga and sessions at Barry's Bootcamp, so skipping training and eventually every race became even more justified in my head. I was supposed to run a race with my girlfriend and then she moved to Colorado, so why do it myself? Another, I was supposed to run in the spring but it was too cold to train in the winter. And another race I was supposed to do in the fall, but I changed jobs and conveniently dropped it from my radar. There was no excuse that I couldn't and wouldn't use. The worst part? I really signed up for each race with the best of intentions: I really wanted to push myself, cross the finish line and feel like I accomplished something. In short, I deliberated and rationalized until my decision not to commit felt valid and safe.

My a-ha moment

Looking back, it's not really surprising that these endeavors only overwhelmed me more and soon became inconveniences that I would easily cast aside. Hiding from your emotions rarely works in the long run (i.e. toxic positivity). And pushing yourself through a long to-do list when you're already feeling a little, well, stuck? Yes, that will definitely backfire.

But hindsight is 20/20, and at this point I had yet to come to that realization - although until one night in November when I was working on the Shape sneaker awards. I've sifted through interviews with experts and reports from product testers praising certain pairs for helping them hit a new PR or smash through previous marathons, and I just felt like a hypocrite. I've written about devastating goals when I couldn't seem to commit to one myself.

And really, really realizing that it hurt, but it was also kind of liberating. As I sat there seething with embarrassment and frustration, I finally slowed down (probably for the first time since moving) and realized the truth: I was not only avoiding the workout, but also my fears. By trying to distract myself with a growing list of races and responsibilities, I had also lost significant control over areas of my life.

Much like a bad date who can't seem to commit no matter how many nights you spend together, I couldn't commit to this thing called "running," even though I had a positive history with it. (I mean, why else would I have signed up all those times? Why else would I have brought running clothes to work every day?) So I sat down and tried to remember why I wanted to train and run a half marathon in first place. (

Here's how to find time for marathon training when you think it's impossible

Finally something stuck

When I signed up for another half marathon in September with this new perspective on my behavior, I hoped that this would finally be the race where I would actually cross the finish line and regain my confidence. I now understood that simply adding another goal to my to-accomplish list would not boost my ambition or relieve me of my fears. Rather, it was working toward that goal that hopefully helped me get back on track.

I couldn't control the city's dark winters or the lack of nature that originally caused my anxiety, and I couldn't control unexpected changes in plans, whether that meant staying late at work or losing my running buddy to a new city. But I could rely on a specific workout plan and that might help me feel a little less anxious and a little more like myself.

Once these realities set in, I let my newfound motivation flare up: I was ready to *actually* work out, and now I needed the plan to stick to it. So I turned to my best friend Tori, a four-time marathon runner, for help creating a schedule. Knowing me better than most, Tori took into account that I wouldn't normally be able to do my runs in the morning (I'm not a morning person), that I would save those long weekend runs for Saturdays rather than Sundays, and that I would need an extra push to really follow through with the cross-training. The result? A perfectly curated half marathon training plan that takes all of these factors into account, making it virtually excuse-free. (

What I learned from helping my friend run a marathon

So I dug in and started really working through Tori's setup. And soon, with the help of my smartwatch, I realized that as long as I kept up the momentum, I could not only run the distances planned in my plan, but also faster than I ever imagined. By logging my miles and each one's pace on my device, I got into the habit of competing with myself. As I pushed myself to match my pace from the day before, I gradually became more motivated and started to find my stride not only in running but in life.

Suddenly, the training I once avoided at all costs became a joy, and each day offered me the chance to be prouder than the last - with every second I ticked off or just every mile I kept running. I had fun. I was on fire. And soon I was running an 8:20 mile – a new PR. Before I knew it, I was saying no to late nights and going to bed early because I couldn't wait to beat my time on Saturday morning. But the most amazing thing was that many of these fears slowly began to fade as they were replaced by endorphins, belief in myself and therefore a regained sense of drive.

Ready for race day... and beyond

When race day finally rolled around in December, about six weeks after Tori's training schedule began, I actually jumped out of bed.

I ran laps around Central Park, past the hydration stations and bathroom breaks that I would have easily used as an excuse to stop before. But things were different now: I remembered that I was (and still am) in control of my decisions, that if I really needed some H2O, I could take a break, but it wouldn't stop me from pushing to the finish line. This 13.1 distance was a milestone for change and I was determined to finally make it happen. The little things that once held me back became just that: small. I finished the race at a time almost 30 minutes faster than expected, achieving a time of 2 hours, 1 minute and 32 seconds, or a mile of 9.13 minutes.

Since that half marathon, I have changed my understanding of engagement. I pursue things because I really want them, not because they distract me or offer a way out of my problems. I am committed to the challenges in my life because I know I can—and will—overcome them, largely due to my drive. As for running? I do it before work, after work, whenever I really feel like it. However, the difference now is that I run regularly to feel energized, strong and in control, no matter how overwhelming city life can be for me.