I’m not going to sugarcoat it: Picking up running as a 42-year-old is tough. So is training for a half marathon, especially for someone like me who’s never completed, or even considered, one before.
This is because I’m not a runner. I’m your typical hot-yoga-loving, hiking-addicted Angeleno who made fun of runners because, honestly, why would you put your body through all that? And my knees — oh, my weak knees — make going for a run even harder.
But I’m also the type of person who loves a good challenge and always craves something new. So when I was invited to run the Santa Barbara Half Marathon this year, I thought, “Why the heck not? Thirteen miles isn’t that bad. I’ve hiked far more than that distance in high altitude.” By the time my brain recalibrated from that mental lapse, however, it was already too embarrassing to take my “yes” back.
Although the thought of running 13 miles alongside experienced marathoners terrified me, I was also excited at the prospect of tacking a new challenge. But seeing as I wasn’t in my 20s anymore, the big question wasn’t so much whether or not I wanted to do it, but whether or not I physically could.
The only way to find out was to try.