Starting at 44: How Running Changed My Life

If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be a marathoner, I would’ve laughed, probably while grading papers or folding laundry. But here I am, proof that it’s never too late to start something hard, something life-changing, and something just for you.

I started running at 44. Not because I was athletic or had some big plan (I didn’t), but because life was loud, stressful, and overwhelming, and I needed a way to quiet the noise.

As a mom and a teacher, my days are full of caring for others, managing chaos, and juggling about 47 things at once. I was always “on,” but never really present. Running gave me that space to be in my own head, to breathe deeper, and to work through stress one step at a time.

It started small. A 5K. I’ll be honest: it was hard, humbling, and full of walk breaks. But I crossed the finish line and immediately wanted more. Something lit up in me that day, and it hasn’t gone out since.

I kept going, slowly building miles, building confidence, building belief in myself. I ran a 10K, then a half marathon, and then, against all odds and logic, trained for and completed a full marathon last year. I cried at the finish line, not just because of the physical effort, but because of everything it represented: the early mornings, the sacrifices, the lesson planning done late at night, the skipped social events, the tired legs that carried me through anyway.

Running gave me more than medals and finish lines. It gave me clarity, confidence, and calm. It helped me manage my anxiety, gave me energy to show up better for my family and students, and reminded me what it feels like to set a goal that’s mine and crush it.

Yes, I had to make sacrifices. Yes, there were hard runs, missed runs, and plenty of self-doubt along the way. But saying yes to this journey was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

So if you’re sitting there thinking it’s too late, you’re too busy, too tired, or too far behind, let me be the voice that tells you: you’re not. Start small. Start slow. But start. You never know what version of yourself is waiting on the other side of that first mile.