Every year, a memory pops up with a picture from the first 10K that I ever ran with my dad. The heat of the day and exhaustion from pushing myself is evident from the grimace on my face, but I… Continue Reading →
Why do I feel like a fraud when I associate the word athlete with myself? Because I’m 53? Because I’m much slower than I used to be? Because I don’t compete? Because I’m not specifically training for anything? I haven’t… Continue Reading →
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