Today, I did something I never dreamed possible: I ran a 15K — 9.3 miles of grit and determination. Fourteen months ago, I was morbidly obese and hated any form of physical activity. Now, I’ve crossed a finish line I couldn’t have even imagined back then.
When I started running eight months ago, I couldn’t go more than 30 seconds without stopping. But I kept at it — 3 to 4 days a week, running one minute, then two, then eventually a whole mile. I’ll never forget the thrill of completing that first mile, something I could never do in high school. Back then, I opted for the pacer test just to avoid the mile run. Now, the thing I once dreaded had become the first milestone in a much longer journey. From there it grew: two miles, then three. On Thanksgiving 2012, I ran my first race, a 2.5-mile Turkey Trot, and struggled the entire way. Just five months later, I’ve now tripled that distance.
It hasn’t been easy. Every run has felt like the hardest thing in the world, and today pushed me further than I thought I could go. Around mile seven, my legs felt like cement. I didn’t want to take another step — but I did. Every blister, every ache, every breathless moment led me to that finish line.
I’ll be honest: I don’t always enjoy the act of running. It’s painful. It’s hard. But I love the feeling afterward — the proof that I’ve done something I once thought impossible. That’s the part that keeps me coming back.
The race itself was grueling and exhilarating. Steep hills tested my resolve. The mile markers — especially 7, 8, and 9 — felt impossibly far apart. Water stations brought short bursts of relief, and volunteers lined the route, cheering us on. Even a dog in a volunteer shirt stood by, urging us forward in his own way. Each word of encouragement carried me closer to the finish line, where I heard my name called as I crossed.
Today was about more than running. It was about proving to myself what’s possible. Losing 105 pounds and finishing a race like this shows me that mind over matter is real. When I started believing in myself, everything changed.
I came in 649th out of 654 runners, finishing in 2 hours and 4 minutes. And you know what? I don’t care. Today wasn’t about winning. It was about showing up, doing the hard thing, and finishing what I started. It was about dreaming big, pushing limits, and becoming better.
I finished with a blister on my foot and a bloody toe — but also with one of the best feelings in the world. Next up: a half-marathon. It sounds impossible, but then again, so did this.
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