Lake Winnipesauke, New Hampshire

“I’m sailing! I’m a sailor!”

That is usually the first thought I have when I think of Lake Winnipesauke, NH (thanks Bill Murray!) But, as much as I love What About Bob, my personal connection to Lake Winnipesauke is deeper.

While I was settling into life as a grad student in Boston I was trying to figure out how to have some balance in my life. One day a good friend of mine invited me to go to a party. Turns out this party was not like most parties. This was a feet themed party – “sweet feet” was the theme. There were even feet shaped gingerbread cookies. And the goal was to convince people (against their better judgment, and coerced by recent consumption of sugar ;) to commit to running a half marathon on team Sweet Feet.

I was convinced I was only there for the cookies, and maybe to make a few new friends. But, after watching the inspiring video about the team from the previous year there was a glimmer of possibility. Who doesn’t want to be a part of something bigger than themselves? Or to conquer a fear or something that seems impossible?

When I left I told myself something crazy: if I could get up the next morning and run the mile from my apartment to Davis Square and back without stopping, I would pay the significant sum ($45 – hey, I was a poor, starving student!) and commit to the race.

Just to add a little perspective, in college I had taken a jogging class. Our final was a 10k, which at that point was the farthest I’d ever run at one time. So, this was going to about double that distance if I committed to the half marathon. And even more telling, I was committing to get up in super early to run outdoors. In Boston. In February. It was a wicked cold and snowy winter, and I think part of me was sure that there was no way I could succeed, and then I’d be off the hook from running.

Somehow, I pulled myself out of bed and pulled on warm running clothes and headed out the door. I got to Davis Square okay, and then when I turned around to run back I knew it was going to be rough. When I stopped at the top of my street to stretch and then walk home, I thought I was going to die! My lungs no longer knew how to function. Even though I had run there and back, I was sorely tempted to give up right then based on how terrible my mile run had gone.

Then I mapped it. Turns out I’d actually run 2.25 miles. Say what!?! I knew I had to do it – I had doubled my required distance, and at the halfway point I had felt fine.

Three months and dozens of miles later, I was picked up by my carpool and we made our way up to New Hampshire to run 13.1 miles.

I started out running with two friends who are much faster than I am. After about a mile I knew if I was to meet my goal of running the whole time, I couldn’t stick with them too much longer. After about another mile they knew that if they were going to meet their goal of running in under 2 hours they could no longer stay with me. So I waved them on, and found myself alone in the middle of a crowd of people.

Since I had trained almost entirely alone, I didn’t mind running alone during the race either. The scenery was magical. I loved running along that lake. I loved having trees overhead for so much of the course. And I was incredibly grateful for the terrible hill coming up Chestnut Ave near my first place in Boston – turned out I was better prepared for the hills along the course than I had anticipated.

Running was also such a great, introspective time for me, and it was powerful for me to look back over the months of training and preparation that led up to that moment.

As I approached the end, I was very proud of myself. Even when I signed up, I felt this goal was absolutely unreachable. And here I was, so close to completing this seemingly insurmountable challenge.

With the finish line in sight, I realized this was one of the first things I did 100% for me. Not because someone expected me to. Not because it would make it more likely for me to reach some different goal. But because I wasn’t sure I could do it, and I wanted to try.

I cried as I crossed that finish line and realized just how true it is that we can do hard things if we put in the effort and time.

I often wear the shirt they gave me as a reminder – hard things can be done!