Someone asked me recently why it was that I run… so I figured it would be worth one post… although I try not to get too personal here on account of me being personal on every other media outlet known to man and the Internet.

I digress… I started running in October of 2008 when I had reached a dark point in my life. I’ve always thrown myself head first into everything that I did: work, relationships, school, family, etc. I found that I eventually got to the point where I would be so accommodating to everyone and everything else that I would lose myself in the process.

So I ran… my co-worker challenged me to train for a half marathon with her at the time and when we didn’t run together I would run alone high up in the Santa Monica Mountains to escape my troubles and somehow find myself. I ran that trail at least 150 times to date (and counting) who knows how much blood (I’ve fallen and tripped on a few rocks), sweat and multitude of tears I’ve ended up dropping on that gravel.

Since then I haven’t gone back, I’ve been half marathoning, marathoning (#2 is coming up with the next LA Marathon) and just running for the love of the sport ever since. I don’t consider myself an athlete by any means but if anything: I am a runner.

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