Today is my birthday! No need to send me notes (unless you want to 😉).

What I really find myself thinking about on this day, though, is my running birthday.

I dabbled in cross country in high school, but I never caught the running bug. In college, I didn’t run at all. Same in my early professional years. Then one day, years later, I went for a run.

I was living in Atlanta and getting ready to move to New York City. I was overweight. I wasn’t eating well. My habits weren’t great. I still remember bending over to tie my shoes and not being able to see my toes.

That first run felt like ten miles. It might have been one. I remember stopping on a bridge that ran over railroad tracks as the sun was setting. I was exhausted. But I also felt something else. Quietly proud that I had gone out and done it.

That was the day I became a runner. Well, almost.

Over the next few years, I nurtured that small spark. I didn’t have big goals yet. I just kept showing up. Slowly, the runs got longer. The effort got easier. The identity started to form.

Eventually, I signed up for the Staten Island Half Marathon. Crossing that finish line changed something. By then, I wasn’t just running anymore. I was hooked. I vividly remember a group chatting around mile seven about how this race was just a training run for the New York City Marathon coming up. A marathon! I couldn’t believe it.

Most runners don’t remember the day they were born. But many remember the day they became a runner. The first run that felt impossible. The moment something shifted. The day they decided to keep going.

I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Not because of times or races, but because I know where I started. And that’s the only comparison that really matters.

And if you do feel like sending a note today, tell me about your running birthday. I’d love to hear where it started for you.

Best wishes on chasing your running goals,
George