Why I run

I am 32 years old. I am the mother of three beautiful children, who never let me forget - for even one minute - how precious life is. I am a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister. I am an ex-smoker.

My children are full of energy, a pure love for life and spend most of their days just begging for one more minute of sunshine, or hoping for one more playdate with a friend.

I have spent most of my life acting as if I was living life to its fullest ... capturing moments and enjoying my family and friends, and the beauty of the world we live in.

But in all honesty, I was in denial. I started smoking when I was about 16 years old (smoked for a good 15 years!!) and although I would have never admitted to anyone that I was addicted, I definitely let cigarettes control and dictate my life, my schedule and my ability to truly participate in life.

Everything involved with my day - from sunup to sundown - revolved around smoking. I smoked when I first woke up ... smoked one last cigarette before going to bed.

When I had the kids in the car on a long drive, we'd pull over to a rest stop, just so I could have a cigarette. I would make my family wait in the parking lot after a long grocery shopping trip so that I could have a cigarette after buckling them into carseats.

What I failed to realize, pack after pack after pack of cigarettes, is that I was short-changing myself, my kids, my husband and my life. What I saw as a harmless way to relax myself, pass the time or even sneak in a bit of quiet moments for myself during the day ... was in truth, a horrible addiction that really had a controlling hold on every part of me.

On May 18th of this year, I had one cigarette left in my trusty hiding spot, and I forgot to ask my husband to pick up a pack for me on his way home from work.

May 19th was my first day on the road to being an ex-smoker.

Later that week, I also decided to start running. I wanted desperately to replace my addiction to smoking with another obsession ... a healthy choice this time. Running it was.

I signed up to run a half-marathon on September 27th and have been slowly training my body to respond to what running asks of it.

I'm nowhere near where I should be to run this half-marathon, but it's ok. I've set out to simply cross the finish line, whether I walk, run or crawl over.

I watch other runners at the gym and often am in awe of their spirit, their determination and their will. I read the blogs of runners and wish I could be "where they are" ... running 20 milers on the weekends ... part of running clubs and with a slew of races on their list of accomplishments.

Then I realize ... I am those runners. Simply because I get up, lace my shoes and start to run ... I am one of them. It doesn't matter if I am only able to run 2 miles at any one time, or if I can't fathom running a 10:00 split. It doesn't matter if the clothes I run in match, or if I am familiar with the latest hydration belt on the market.

I am a runner.

I run because I love my family. I run because I want to always choose a quick run over a pack of cigarettes.

I run because it frees my mind. I run because it gives my body something to attain. I run because it makes me feel strong.

I run because I want my children to see me accomplish a goal.

I run because there's nothing else like it ...

I haven't had a cigarette since that day in May ... and while it isn't a simple road, it sure feels good to be able to breathe again. To start my run and know that my lungs are pure again ... and able to function as they were meant to function - - for many days to come!

Happy running,

Naomi