The first mile I ever ran was the last mile of the 1983 Boston Marathon. How many people can say that? I was eleven years old at the time, and my dad had brought the whole family down from New Hampshire to cheer him on as he ran his first Boston. My two brothers and I...
The best summer of my life was the one I spent in Flagstaff, Arizona, as a “fake professional runner” embedded with the HOKA Northern Arizona Elite professional running team. For thirteen unforgettable weeks I lived every runner’s fantasy, going all-in with the sport...
