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Everyone starts somewhere

Sometimes I wonder if I even seem like a real person to the ladies in my classes. They see me now, 6 years after having a kid, running marathons and telling them to just munch on some raw broccoli when I'm pretty sure they'd far rather ask if they wanted to go on a cupcake date. Yeah, I'm pretty strong now, and when this is all you see it's probably easy to figure that I was one of those irritating/lucky women who was back in her pre-pregnancy pants 2 weeks after giving birth (Spoiler Alert: I wasn't). Everyone starts somewhere. My starting place was August 2009, when I walked into a Stroller Strides class desperate to make some friends and try to get some semblance of my pre-pregnancy self back. I steadfastly walked between every station, and spent most of the exercise sets talking to the lady next to me. But here's the thing about starting: it turns out that if you don't stop, you can really get on a roll. In many ways, I consider myself the ultimate FIT4MOM Success Story. I'm just a regular schmoe who liked to drink beer, eat fried food, and avoid vegetables to the extent that my MIL wondered how on earth I'd have healthy pregnancies. Then I got moving, and met some of the coolest, life-saving women who somehow not only let me be a part of their village but also run a race with them (okay, we all paid to be a part of a running club so it's not like they could ditch me). I don't know if it's my competitive streak or my FOMO, but I was sticking around as long as I could, even if it meant getting up at the butt crack of dawn and running. What started as a 10K turned into a half marathon, which turned into more half marathons, which turned into a marathon, which after a whole lot of time and even more miles, turned into the Boston Marathon. All because this lady wanted to make some friends and lose some baby weight.

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