Welcome,
Welcome to the midweek newsletter! As mentioned, I have brought Thursday newsletters back to share more people's stories of how they began running later in life. I am truly enjoying each person’s story and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to share with us! I also appreciate everyone who has reached out and I am finally feeling better from the flu. Minus my lingering cough, I am about normal again. Enough about me!
In case you missed previous newsletters:
Week 1: Beginning Running Their 20s: Jaynee, Claire, and Jess
Week 1.5 Beginning Running in Their 20s: Brittany, Morganne, and Kerry
Week 2: Beginning Running in Their 30s: Jan, Tony, John, and Eugene
Week 3: Beginning Running in Their 30s and 40s: Betsy E, April Wong Loi Sing, and David
Today’s newsletter:
Justin B:
My journey started about 22 years ago. I got married in 2000 and weighed 325 pounds. I decided it was time to get myself into better shape. While I dabbled on a treadmill throughout my 20's and 30's, I'd say my running got "serious" in 2014, after I had just turned 40.
There were no real gimmicks or secrets. I just started waking up an hour earlier every day and going to a local gym.
My first experience on a treadmill was a .75-mile walk that had me sweating through my shirt. Fast forward, and now I've been working out three to five times a week and watching what I eat. I have maintained a relatively healthy lifestyle even though my jobs are both very sedentary. I work as an IT manager for a Health Care System and I’m also an author, both of which require some significant "butt in chair" time, so I rely on exercise to try and offset those hours spent hunched over a keyboard.
I've always used a treadmill relatively frequently throughout my exercise journey, but around 2010 - 2011, I started running more than walking. In 2014, I got more serious and began working out with regular outside runs. By 2018 - 2019, I was running pretty hardcore, clocking in around 600 miles per year, even though I don’t tend to run much during the winter. My running window here in New England is roughly from April to September.
As I was working to lose weight, I was advised to mix cardio with weight training, and I began using a treadmill here and there. Due to some scheduling issues with dropping off my daughter for school at her bus stop, my window for morning workouts was reduced, so I had to strategize ways to workout in 30 minutes. I lived close to a running trail, and it worked out nicely to drop off my daughter and get in a quick five-mile run before starting work in the morning. That evolved into longer and more elaborate runs, carving out some time on the weekends to get up to 8, 10, 13, and even the occasional 15 milers. Running started as a convenient way to burn calories and ended up becoming a passion. One of the more pleasant side effects was that the endorphin rush tends to spark my creative energy. As an author, that is very important, and in some cases, a particularly grueling morning run would fuel ideas for a book or two.
As COVID became more rampant, I started to experience minor flutters in my chest. I was diagnosed with atrial fibrillation (A-fib) in 2020, which had a significant mental impact on my running. While my physician said I was healthy and could resume running without much danger, it's been a challenge convincing myself to put aside the diagnosis and get back in the saddle. I recently purchased an indoor free weight rack and a treadmill, so I still work out regularly, though my runs are shorter and are on the treadmill until I can get myself ramped back up to get back outside again.
I'm currently 48, and, while I can't roll out of bed and run a 10K without even thinking about it anymore, I still feel like if I can overcome my mental roadblock, I can get back close to where I was.
The clinical diagnosis certainly set me back, but I'm working on getting over it. My doctor assures me it's okay physically, but mentally I still need to figure that out. Between the ages of 40 and 48, I noticed a difference in recovery times, though that could be a mix of age and a reduced frequency in my workout schedule. As running has felt more and more out of reach, I've been leaning more on weight lifting, but I still miss the fresh air, the wilderness backdrop, and the "out in nature" feel of running.
I wish I had started earlier. Even after 22 years of hard work, I still suffer from some effects of being so overweight deep into my 20s, and I often think if I'd gotten into running even at 25 or 30, I'd be in much better shape than I am now. There's something freeing and exhilarating about it, especially for a guy like me who is tethered to his computer keyboard for 10 - 12 hours a day.
Running, to my mind, has almost always been more of a mental challenge than a physical one. Certainly, there are physical aspects to be concerned with, but even when I was waking up at 4:30 in the morning to go for a six or seven-mile run, the biggest obstacle was convincing myself to get out of bed and strap on my shoes. Even after running over 1,000 miles since those days in 2014, I battle with the mental side of things, wondering if I'll ever get back to a point where I can decide on a Saturday morning to run 10 miles and go out and do it. I'm not sure I'll ever be in that place again, but I think the only thing holding me back is mental. So as long as we runners can overcome the mental challenge, I am convinced that we are more than physically capable of beginning a running journey well into our 40s, 50s, 60s, or later.
Nita:
In 2010, at 49, I was chronically depressed, nearly suicidal, and dealing with paralyzing grief after seven loved ones and a cat all died the same year. This included my 24-year-old niece, my father-in-law, my niece's cat, and, in December, my mother. Although I was on medication, in therapy, and had a strong meditation and writing practice, I felt inconsolable and unsure I wanted to go on.
But one day, a friend posted on social media "Call me crazy, but this running is getting to be fun!" As ironic as it sounds given my condition, I thought perhaps we should do a wellness check on her! But I watched as she continued an interval training program.
The weeks passed and she seemed to be having fun while I surely was not. As her progress continued, an "if she can do it, I can" feeling rose within me.
One weekday when my husband and neighbors were at work, I furtively donned some ancient athletic apparel, leashed our yellow Labrador retriever, Morgan, picked up a digital kitchen timer, and walked to a secluded ravine where no one would see me attempt to "Jog for 60 seconds" as the training plan suggested.
I stood there long enough for the dog to get up and pee on a bush before I hit the button on the timer and took that first step into the rest of my life. I don't mean to sound overly dramatic, but I have changed so much since then, that it feels like magic. I went from a woman not certain she wanted to live to one who feels confident she can face what comes.
In the twelve years since, I've completed one ultramarathon (50k), three full marathons, 31 half marathons (in 19 states), and more than 100 shorter races. My favorite is always the one I've just done!
But I never intended to run "in public."
I didn't even tell my husband for weeks after I started to run. I was afraid this "running thing" would be one more failed attempt like the mini-trampoline, the jump rope, and so many abandoned gym memberships.
I blame my sister for my transition out of "private running." She talked me into my first 5k, Steps for Sarcoma, to raise money for research to treat and cure osteosarcoma, the type of cancer that took her daughter, my young niece's life.
Remembering Jamey's struggle helped me set aside my fear. I'm forever grateful to my sister for the nudge and to my husband Ed, once I told him, for his support. That charity 5k dispelled my misconceptions about what a runner can be. People of all shapes and sizes, of every age, and dressed in everything from elite-styled wicking gear to pink cotton sweat pants, showed up to walk and run.
Since then, all of the miles, mostly in our suburban central Ohio neighborhood with the dog, or on the Olentangy Trail with Marathoner in Training, the running group I joined once I decided to try for longer distances, have shown me that I too am a real runner. My age, my weight, my lack of physical ability, none of that matters as long as I'm out there putting one foot in front of another. Left foot. Right foot. Repeat. "Road therapy," I call it.
My stamina and mood have improved so much. I could never have completed a book-length project and done the incredibly difficult work it takes to land a publisher. I'd tried to finish and pitch several books before. Each time, I gave up early in the process. It's cliche, but I couldn't go the distance! Running changed that, hopefully for good.
My first published book, the running and mental health memoir, Depression Hates a Moving Target, chronicles my journey from those dark days to that first long race. The next book, due out in August, Make Every Move a Meditation, explains how I meditate while I run. It offers detailed instruction for anyone interested in making any movement form (pickleball, Zumba, laser tag, you name it) into a mindfulness practice.
I still have dark days, but overall my mood has brightened. I laugh more and feel very alive. My psychiatrist gradually reduced my medications. At one point I was on six, and now I take a very low dose of one. I have lost weight and generally feel more comfortable in my body.
I can barely remember that numb, empty woman who contemplated ending her life—the woman I was before I took up running.
Of course I wish I'd begun sooner, but that's not my story. I'm so glad running found me when it did and am eternally grateful to my high school friend who had no idea the impact she would have on others with her social media post.
Now, it's me posting "Call me crazy, but this running is getting to be fun!" Because it is!
You can follow Nita on twitter or her blog
Thank you Justin and Nita for your time!
What is Keeping Me Entertained?
Best Gels for Sensitive Stomachs
Tailwind Endurance Fuel Review
Running Mugu Peak to La Jolla Valley Loop
Gwen Jorgenson is pregnant with her second child
Big goals, balance, self-belief: The rise of U.S. women’s marathoning