It was pretty simple actually.

I would complete a race for every month of 2014.

Didn’t matter the distance or the location.

The challenge would be in committing myself to step away from the solitude I most appreciated in running and learn to love the run in whatever form it came to me.

Here I am 11 months later-

1 sprained toe,

1 first place finish (for my age group mind you),

2 rounds of cortisone injections,

3 half marathons,

4 pairs of running shoes,

11 races,

75.8 racing miles across 3 states.

I have improved my 4 miler time by a whopping 4 minutes and knocked off 3 minutes from my first half marathon in April to my last half marathon in October.

I have spent more time with my treadmill then my dog.

I have vomited, wiped my mouth and kept on running.

I have broken down in tears from the exhaustion, the emotion, the pain.

I share all of this because I am proud.

I have earned every last moment of this shameless brag.

I am stronger than I ever imagined.

If given the choice to run a 10 miler on my on or a crowded 5k, I would still choose the 10 miler. But, what I have learned, is how to quiet my head and calm my heart regardless of who is running beside me.

Just one more race to go, a holiday four miler.

In all honesty it feels a bit anti-climactic.

I know I will finish.

I know I will feel joy and accomplishment at the end.

The real victory is in the gift I have already been given.

That gift was unwrapped somewhere along mile 2 on a 8 degree race day in January of 2014.

The women who has never considered herself an athlete now understands what it feels like to be a warrior.