Yes, the SPRF race organizers actually mail each runner a handwritten personalized card. Just one more reason to race local. Credit: Resie Waechter

With less than three weeks before St. Pete Run Fest, I cling to my training and remind myself I’ve run half marathons before. Training for this race has been a doozy. Week one took place during Hurricane Irma; I think I ran once and spent the remainder of the week searching for bottled water and batteries and washing the sheets for our Evac-A guests.

I graduate from USF in a month, which means I am going out of my mind freaking out with the whole “I am so excited to finally graduate! Wait…what the hell am I going to do with my life?” thing. Training for a long-distance race is not something one takes on lightly, but at the same time I know from experience there is never a “perfect time” to train. I’ve trained for races during some of the hardest times of my life. I’ve raced half marathons and triathlons amidst 60-hour workweeks, cramming for finals, dealing with family and personal issues. The other day a classmate learns of my upcoming half marathon and remarks “I would love to do something like that. I wish I had the time.”

I keep my reply simple: I make the time.

There are always a thousand excuses I can come up with as to why I shouldn’t go for a run. It is always easier to go through a drive-thru for lunch. I sleep better in the mornings and can find every reason in the book to hit the snooze button: I was up late doing homework, I have a 12-hour day ahead of me, my muscles are sore from CrossFit.

There are a million reasons why I run anyway.

Taking months of your life and scheduling training sessions five times a week isn’t easy. I’ve passed up on coffee dates and brunches and breakfast in bed. Those of us who race triathlons and half marathons don’t have more time. We just choose to spend it differently.

I print out a training schedule for each race I do, and it’s not just because I’m technologically challenged: I genuinely enjoy crossing each run off the list. I play it off when people make comments about me being “disciplined” because I don’t take my training half as seriously as most athletes out there. But the truth is, I work my ass off to cross that finish line. I am not your typical athlete; running doesn’t come naturally to me. I have a lot of humbling moments.

In my teens, I would have never dreamt of running a half marathon. In my twenties, I would have cared too much about my peers’ finish times and been ashamed of my own. Now 31, I am ecstatic at the fact that I can actually run 13.1 miles. I can run 13.1 miles nonstop (port-a-potty breaks notwithstanding) and smile at my wife and family members—the people who helped get me here—over the free Solo cup of beer I am awarded at the finish line.

I am doing this. I’ve skipped a few runs and I’m going to finish with a time longer than that of previous races. I’ve been nursing an Achilles injury throughout my training and I know I will take walking breaks throughout the course.

St. Pete Run Fest sticker Credit: Resie Waechter

Years ago, I would have discounted myself for “not running the whole thing.” Years ago, I would have come up with excuses as to why everyone else was better than me. Years ago, I would have never taken on the challenge of a half marathon in the first place.

Today I rise to the occasion. I tighten my laces and give my calves a few extra moments to stretch. I run slowly, I sweat extra, I overindulge with post-run pizza. But still I run.

This article appears in Nov 16-23, 2017.