The last time I trained for a marathon, I remember standing at the starting line with a mix of nerves, excitement, and the quiet hope that my legs would carry me as far as they possibly could. My strategy back then was simple: run when I could, walk when I needed, and trust that sheer determination would get me to the finish. And somehow, it did.
But as I lace up my shoes for this year’s journey—training for the Boston Marathon with the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team—I realize just how different things feel. This time, the story I’m writing looks nothing like the one from years ago.
Learning to Run Without the Hurry
Back then, I didn’t think twice about my run/walk method. It was comfortable, familiar, and honestly, it felt safe. But this time around, something shifted. On one of my early training runs, I realized I had gone far longer than I expected without stopping. My legs felt strong. My breathing was steady. And for the first time, I felt like I was actually running—not surviving the miles, but owning them.
Now, the run/walk intervals have turned into long, steady stretches of running I never imagined myself doing. It feels like discovering a new version of myself, one stride at a time.
Strength Training: The Thing I Used to Avoid
There’s a saying that runners are secretly allergic to strength training. If that’s true, then I was definitely one of them. The last time I trained, I skipped anything that didn’t involve putting one foot in front of the other. Lunges? No thanks. Squats? Absolutely not.
But this time is different. I’ve stayed committed to the strength training I’ve already been doing—and now I’m also following the strength workouts recommended by my Runna training plan. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not always fun, but it’s made a world of difference. My legs feel sturdier. My form feels more controlled. And the small aches that used to nag me are quieter now.
It turns out strong muscles really do make a stronger runner. Who knew?
Mobility: My Missing Puzzle Piece
If strength training was something I avoided, mobility work was something I didn’t even know I needed. Last time, stretching was… optional. Mobility? Never heard of her.
But Runna has introduced me to a new side of running—the part where you slow down, breathe, and give your body the chance to move the way it’s supposed to. Hip mobility, ankle mobility, loosening tight hamstrings… it’s all become part of my routine.
And the craziest part? I can feel the difference. My stride is smoother, my body feels more open, and those little twinges that used to make me nervous don’t show up nearly as often. Mobility might just be the quiet hero of this whole adventure.
Mixing Up the Miles
Another thing I did last time? The same exact run, over and over. Same route. Same pace. Same everything.
This time, every run has a purpose. A story behind it.
There are the tempo runs, where I learn to hold a strong, steady pace even when my legs start to complain. The hill runs, where halfway up the incline I question all my life choices—but reach the top feeling unstoppable. The easy runs, where I give myself permission to slow down and breathe. And the over-under runs, where I practice changing gears, pushing and easing, like learning to speak a new running language.
Each one teaches me something new. Each one adds a chapter to this journey.
Becoming a Different Runner
When I look back at my old marathon training, I see someone who just wanted to get through it. Now, I see someone who wants to grow through it. Someone who wants to be stronger, smarter, healthier, and more intentional.
And running for Dana-Farber adds a purpose that goes far beyond miles and paces. It gives this entire journey weight, heart, and meaning.
This time is different.
This time, I’m different.
And as I continue to train—mile after mile, hill after hill, stretch after stretch—I’m excited to see where this new version of me will take me.