WHY GLITTER? Simple: I love running for the beauty of it all, not so much for speed or distance.
I am a lifelong athlete who developed the perfect point guard stance (and gaping mouth that puts Michael Jordan’s famed tongue to shame) at the age of, well, looks about three. In short, I was warding off defenders while Velcro was still all the rage. But since a career in the WNBA never happened (or in the fashion industry: hi, pink giraffes), I transferred my love to a sport of a different kind.
Today, as a 20-something-year-old New Yorker (who is currently living the Philadelphia dream), I think I can finally qualify myself as a runner — and mainly because I can’t say that I’m not a runner either.
Honestly, it sounds weird to write it out — I am a runner — in words, because I’ve been putting one foot in front of the other at faster speeds than walking for a really, really long time now. Since my sophomore year of college, to be exact.
The quick and dirty is that I didn’t begin running because I loved racing. In fact, I hated racing up until the summer of 2011, when I signed up and completed my first half marathon. (In a naive burst of wisdom, I figured that if I could run 7 miles, why not go for 13.1?)
The moment I crossed the finish line of the 2011 Queens Half Marathon, I vowed to never participate in another race again, claiming that it ruined the entire reason why I’m so obsessed with running to begin with; that I can just go out there and enjoy the fresh air (well, relatively; I do live in Manhattan, after all), without the stress of having to accomplish anything besides working up a sweaty glow.
As most runners can tell you, once you cross the finish line, you’ll probably cross another — and another, and another. Even if you have to do it in a snow storm.
I don’t run races often, and because I’m somewhat runner-injury-prone (re: piriformis syndrome, Achilles tendinitis) I try to keep ’em short enough that I don’t have to dedicate my every waking hour to training. Here and there, if there’s a good friend or new co-worker signing up for a race, I’m there. Otherwise, I tend to stick to fun runs. The difference is that I am no longer anti-race.
A Few Other Pivotal Facts
I am a University of Michigan alum and, after four fun yet often heart-breaking years in The Big House, followed by one-too-many sorrowful burritos consumed on the walk home, I know more than I thought I ever would about a football team. (Go blue!)
Anyway, Ann Arbor is where I first began to run, and it gets cold. Really, really cold. At a time when I was going through a pretty rough patch in my life (identity crisis, young adult depression, anxiety attacks and the likes — NBD), running became a better outlet than I could ever have imagined. It continues to be to this day. Racing past the river, weaving through the arboretum — those are some of the calmest memories I have of those particularly tough years. I really don’t know where I’d be without them.
Actually, I do know. I’d probably be fishing with my dad. I am a great fisherwoman, and being out on the water among family is another way that I find balance and peace. (Did I mention my folks call me the pickerel queen?)
(Note: This is a bass, not a pickerel.)
You might also find me elegantly trying some exciting new cuisine. I’m a BIG foodie.
Conquering new terrain (this picture is from my trip to Acadia National Park in Maine).
Taking pictures (I use a Canon Rebel or a good old iPhone).
Or drinking wine. Lots and lots of wine. (Usually Sauvignon Blanc or Malbec. Never Chardonnay.)
So, that’s me, Stacy. I am an East Coast-based writer and runner; a generally good cook; and the only Lazar (now Goodman) who didn’t want to take over the family chocolate store. Running is my ultimate source of sanity, as are Law & Order reruns, sample sales (tear — not a Philly thing), comfy white t-shirts, and of course, anything that glitters. It’s not all gold – but it certainly makes life a lot prettier.
Thanks for visiting; hope you’ll stick around!