This week I started running again (the week of 4/3/17). Running with a purpose. See, while I like to think of myself as a runner, the truth is that I haven’t earned that moniker in years.

I started running in 2006 (I think?). I was single, living on the cheap in New York City, and packing a few extra pounds that I figured neither myself nor any potential female companion would hold an appreciation for. So I went for a run.

Sidebar: Actually, it went more like this…

Friend: Hey Danny, want to go run the loop in Central Park this weekend?

Danny: Uhhhh, sure. But I’m not much of a runner.

We proceed to run the 6+ mile loop of Central Park on a whim.

I experience a sensation that feels like death for roughly 4 of those miles.

I spend the next week in pain.

I come to the distinct realization that I am out of shape.

So I went for a run. And then another. And another. I started out running 20-ish minutes at a time. I was convinced that I had to be covering a respectable 2 miles as I whipped myself into shape. (Yep, it was about 1.25 miles.)

I never intended to become a runner. I just wanted to get in shape and lose some weight. Running was easy to manage. I could do it anytime, anywhere with just a pair of shoes and some workout clothes. Over time, that 1.25 miles became 5k. That became 10k. Somewhere in there I ran my first half marathon. And more importantly, I started to care. (I also started to see muscles in places that never used have muscles!)

I was hooked.

Leading a hike somewhere in Bear Mountain State Park

I spent the summer of 2008, while training for my first marathon, as a backpacking and hiking guide. A friend launched a company designed to help busy urbanites commune with nature via day hikes and overnight backpacking trips. In a past life, I’ve been both a backpacking and climbing guide, so I agreed to help her lead the first summer of trips. A normal week for me during this time looked something like this:

Work 50–60 hours at my not 9–5 job. (I was one of the leads at an innovation and technology consultancy.)

Run 5x per week — usually M-Th mornings as my commute to work, with a long run on Friday evening to commute home.

Prep for that weekend’s trip after my long run on Friday night. We’d usually finish up somewhere around midnight.

Spend the weekend hiking either 1x overnight or 2x day trips in the parks near NYC.

Lather, rinse, repeat. During this period I was running 40–ish miles a week and hiking another 10–15 on weekends.

And during Thanksgiving week of 2008, I ran my first full marathon.

The Northern Central Rail Trail Marathon is an out-and-back race along a hard pack trail in Maryland. It’s well supported, offers a relay, and is a beautiful course. I finished in a respectably unimpressive first marathon time of 4:22:42. (Sorry, did I give you some impression that I was fast?)

Crossing the finish line of the Northern Central Rail Trail Marathon in 4:22:42

And it hurt. (In case you couldn’t tell from the picture.)

I don’t recall “hitting the wall” in my first marathon. I remember what felt like an interminably long slog. I remember the slight uphill section in the last mile of the race. I remember early in the race dropping my half dozen Gu packets on the trail and having to stop and pick them all up. (Seriously — I have no idea why I thought I needed so many.) And I remember the guy who ran the entire second half of the race with me, cheering me on. (Unfortunately, I don’t remember his name!)