It was a cold Canadian winter when I first laced up a pair of running shoes with actual intent. The kind of winter that makes you rethink every decision to step outside. Yet, there I was, ready to take on a Learn to Run program at the Running Room. Why? Because I was tired of hibernating through winter, gaining extra pounds that my body stubbornly refused to shed each spring.
I figured running was an inexpensive way to burn some calories (right, inexpensive—we’ll get to that later). My fitness level at the time? Let’s just say I was a couch potato with no real interest in running. The only running I had done before was playing football in school, (not the round ball, the egg-shaped one), and even then, it was just short bursts. Long-distance running? No thanks.
The First Attempt: A Frozen Realization
Before 2018, I had attempted a Learn to Run program at another Running Room. It was winter then too, and I quickly learned two things:
- I wouldn’t actually freeze to death.
- I was overdressed and sweating buckets within minutes.
That first attempt didn’t last long, mostly due to the social dynamic of that particular location. But the seed had been planted.
Finding My Stride
Fast forward to 2018. I gave running another shot, this time at a different Running Room location. This time, it stuck. The social aspect was still there, but running for me began evolving into something more personal. It wasn’t just about group runs anymore—it was about me proving something to myself.
I started with the classic walk/run method. Running a full minute felt like an eternity. But over time, I built up to 5K. I was sure that was my limit. Then I signed up for a 10K program. Okay, now that was my limit. Then came half-marathons. And now, here I am, training for my first full marathon in October 2025.
The Unexpected Treadmill Test
Fast forward to this week. Torontonians found themselves digging out from under over 20cm of snow. Roads were a mess, sidewalks were barely navigable, and the idea of dodging ice patches wasn’t exactly appealing. So, like many runners forced inside, I reluctantly turned to the treadmill—affectionately known to some, as the Dreadmill.
Tempo runs are supposed to be comfortably hard, but this one felt uncomfortably hard-ish. My first 20-minute tempo block started strong, but by the second, my heart rate was soared into the red, and I could only manage 10 minutes instead of the planned 20. Still, I finished, cooled down, and walked away spent—but not disappointed.
The Journey Continues
If there’s one thing I’ve learned since those first cautious winter runs, it’s that every step forward counts. Whether it’s braving the cold, embracing the treadmill, or pushing past self-imposed limits, the journey keeps evolving. And at 66, I’m still proving that fitness, endurance, and setting big goals aren’t reserved for the young. Even the Dreadmill couldn’t stop me.
This blog will be a place to document that journey—the highs, the lows, and everything in between. Because I get to do this–I can do this. And because I can do this, trust me, so can you.