When I first started running, I couldn’t even go a mile. It was something I had to do in PE class, and nothing about it felt right. The tightening in my chest, burning in my throat, how awkward and heavy my limbs felt as I tried to propel myself forward… Every breath caused a new side cramp. My teeth felt like they would fall out of my gums. Every fiber of my being told me to stop. So I did.
I was never good at sports, either, but ended up playing soccer all the way through college. Adding friends and a ball into the mix made running more tolerable. Sometimes it was even fun, and I wasn’t in it for anything else.
It wasn’t until I turned 40 that I found my running shoes again. Suddenly my life was on fire. On the surface, everything looked great. I was working at the hottest company in America, I was engaged, I had a new house and car. But my commute was killing me, my relationship was suffering, and my job had lost its meaning. So, I quit—everything, even my engagement.
I desperately needed a re-set. The only thing I could remember truly enjoying was running outdoors with my friends in college.
No one was more surprised than me when I signed up for my first ultra-marathon running event—I’d never even completed a marathon. But if I somehow pulled it off, it meant I could jump into an abyss and reach the other side on my own. Whether I had this in me or not was something I desperately needed to find out.
Training forced me into outdoor adventures every day, no matter how I felt. Whether I was sad or angry, I had a date with the trail, and the trail never changed its mind.
Things happened out there. I cried a lot. I fell a lot. I got poison oak on my lady parts. I lost track of time. I lost track of myself. I bumped into things in the night I wasn’t prepared for, like baby foxes, coyotes, and people living outdoors. Step by step, I confronted my fears of being alone in the world.
I used a spreadsheet to help me keep track of my mileage, and just keep going. Sometimes I walked. Other times I jogged. Eventually I started to jog more and walk less. About five months later, I was able to tackle a mountain in 10 hours over two days.
During that time, I learned how to eat. I discovered patience. The numbers and notes on that spreadsheet ruled my life. My attendance wasn’t perfect, and my runs didn’t always turn out as planned—but as long as I was filling it out, I knew I was making progress.
When race day came, I ran farther than I’d ever run in my life: 50 miles. I crossed the finish line 12 hours later—a different person than when I’d started. I found something inside me I didn’t know was there. Whether it was part animal or part athlete, I really wasn’t sure. All I knew for certain was I felt alive. My life was my own again, and I had proof that anything is possible.
Today I run for a living, and every day on the trail feels like a gift.
This information is for educational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for medical diagnosis or treatment. You should not use this information to diagnose or treat a health problem or condition. Always check with your doctor before changing your diet, altering your sleep habits, taking supplements, or starting a new fitness routine.
Jennifer Pattee
Fitbit Ambassador Jennifer Pattee started taking bootcamp classes in college to relieve stress and found she loved exercising outdoors. Before long, she started tackling marathons, ultra-marathons, Ironman relays, and more—and built a roster of personal-training clients in the process. In 2008, Jenn founded Basic Training in San Francisco, CA, to help others get fit, and discover their inner athlete, too.
Inspiring!
Wow, you are very inspiring! I haven’t ran even a mile my entire life due to having benign pvc’s and pac’s, so although my doctor said I could still jog but take it easy, gives me newfound inspiration from you Jennifer! Even if I can’t do a marathon I feel like I want to get moving more, thank you so much!