MARY DARCY

All the way to the theater she whisped to me. "Who do you think you are? You're a loser. You're a geek. You're weak and uncoordinated. You can't do this. You will fail. You cannot run a marathon." She was laughing. She was laughing pretty hard. "Also, you're stupid, you're ugly and nobody likes you." Sometimes I don't know why I spend time with her – with possible exception of the fact that she lives in my head. Until I can figure out how to evict her, I have had to learn to

Sometimes it's not what you see, it's what you look for. After last week's treadmill run I looked down and saw this. I know, right?! The universe believed in me! It was giving me a sign! "I can do this," I thought! I. CAN. DO. THIS! I stared in joyful awe at this missive from the heavens -- this crystal ball in a Nordictrack. I stared long enough to see this: I know, right? Sigh. I'm taking it as a sign anyway. Hey, I looked down when I looked down for a reason. I will take

19 turned into 15. This journey is both humbling and empowering. Thanks to everyone who is following, offering encouragement and pledges. You can help here. Thanks so much!

Sometimes daughters do things their mothers would rather they didn’t. I can’t imagine my mother would want her daughter—the kid who skipped gym class, kept her nose in a book while everyone else was on the playground, and once nearly knocked herself out with her own knee during aerobics—to run 26.2 miles through the streets of New York City. And she certainly wouldn’t want me to do it in her name. Sorry, Ma. On the last day of summer in her 60th year, Carolyn Ann Alberto Darc

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