In late 2006, while studying abroad, I was invited by a friend of mine to casually train for the greatest marathon in the world – the Boston Marathon. I hated running, to say the least, as I’d been a sprinter only in baseball, so the longest I’d run was from first to home (if I even got on base, that is). Amidst varied levels of support, a few very close to me effectively had enough doubt that I wouldn’t be able to finish, which ended up being what motivated me to complete my training. A few stupid injuries and four months later, a friend and I clocked in at just around 4:35:00. I finished.


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