“Mom, I’m going to run the Boston Marathon.”

I needed something. I don’t party. I commute to college. I desperately needed an escape from boredom.

Meanwhile…I had also been battling my health. I was tired of eating 5 ego waffles with 2 bricks of butter plastered on top. I wanted to be healthy.  It’s not that I was heavy, in fact, quite the opposite. I was underweight and unhealthy. Just because my body did not show fat…did not mean I was fit. Every time I made a big plate of cheesy nachos and drank a 2 liter bottle of  coca cola, I knew I was engulfing  a delicious heart attack.

I had dreamed of changing my diet and diligently lifting weights for years…but it remained a nice thought. “Oh, I’ll start doing that in a week ” I would say as I devoured another glob of cookie dough. I’m not sure if it was just the fact that we were out of ego waffles that morning, but I finally decided to kick that lazy thought off the couch. I was going to do something about it.

After the first day, I could already feel a change.

It was around 9 pm and I was sitting on the computer. Then, it hit me. “I’ll run a marathon!” All pumped up, I darted down stairs to inform my mother. She, of course, rolled her eyes. I hopped on the treadmill and did 3 miles…and so it began.

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