How I became a runner

Almost missed my two-posts-per-month quota. I plan to start posting weekly soon, but I don't have the time to commit to it just yet.

Something that interests me is how one tiny event can seem to alter the course of one's life in dramatic ways, i.e., the butterfly effect.

In general, I don't believe in fate, but my butterfly effect story starts when I broke my arm rollerblading in eighth grade. I had to sit out lacrosse season while my arm healed, so I didn't get to try out for the varsity team at the end of the year. Without our own dedicated coach, ninth grade practices were held at a different time every night of the week, sometimes as late as 9:00 PM. Instead of struggling to complete my homework after practice (it's impossible to do homework before practice while everyone else is "bonding"!), I quit lacrosse to join the track team, which held practices reliably from 3:00 PM to 5:00 PM, and I've never looked back since.

It's funny now that my identity is so tied to running when I never set out to become a runner at all.

My next race is the Baltimore Marathon Team Relay, and then I'll be done until spring, excluding the annual family Turkey Trot.


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