05/13/2026
Ten years since this photo was taken.
After almost 30 hours running through the mountains of Georgia, I crossed a finish line that would quietly shape the next chapter of my life. What followed was two and a half years filled with 100 milers, road trips, podiums, and first place finishes.
But when I look at these photos now, I don’t think about the exhilaration of crossing the finish line as much as I think about a world that no longer exists.
Sometimes I miss the freedom of it all. The extra time. The money. The 100 km weekends on the trails. The road trips with my husband where the only thing that mattered was the journey ahead.
Of course, even then, the actual experience of training and racing was often lonely. Those moments were shared with a very small circle of people who truly understood it.
Now life looks different.
Some days it feels like my own training gets sacrificed so other athletes and runners can chase their goals. I stand on the other side now. At the start lines, the finish lines, at the trailheads, beside the track. Watching others go through the same struggles, doubts, breakthroughs, and successes.
And when the regrets creep in, I try to remember the life I left behind to build the one I have now.
Maybe I don’t cross as many finish lines these days. But I’ve helped create starting lines for others to chase their own amazing stories.
