This year I’m not running a marathon.

You heard me.


It will be my first time skipping in six years. (Technically, I did not run the year of Hurricane Sandy. That was the year I was scheduled to run my second New York Marathon but it was cancelled and I trained up through 20 miles so I TOTALLY COUNT IT.)

I don’t really know why I am not tackling a marathon this year. It wasn’t a big decision or anything. I think Katie and I just needed a mental break from training and simply couldn’t bring ourselves to start a program. We still run together every week but without the 3-4 hour time commitment. I’m not gonna lie, it is pretty damn awesome.

The part that is not awesome, though?

My new figure.

The figure that I could mostly keep in check due to the marathon training.


See where I am going with this?

Every year the needle on the scale gets a little harder to budge. This year, not only has my jeans size gone up but my energy level has gone way down.

Wayyyyyyyyy down.

We’re talking practically narcoleptic here.

tired woman

It is actually frightening me.

Googling the issue is no help. All of the articles I find basically tell me that if I’m a woman in my 40s with any amount of stress in my life, who likes chocolate  and has challenging genetics (which I am, I do and have) – I’m royally screwed.


<double blink>

So here’s the thing. I can’t accept that. After quietly enduring a few months of clothes not fitting and feeling absolutely dog-tired and stressed (not to mention unattractive and frumpy) I made a decision. Actually, I made an internal declaration.

And that declaration is…. ‘OH HELL NO.’

The reason I am telling  you this is because its my blog after all it will profoundly affect the things I write about on this space. Fair warning, people.

I’m determined to turn this sucker around. I realize that I can’t do anything about aging (totally pointless and who really has money for Botox, anyway?) but I most certainly can do something about my health.

So there it is.

Radical life changes coming soon….