It has been 25 years since I crossed the finish line in Central Park, having just run 26.2 miles through the lively streets of New York, knowing I’d never be the same.

Gobsmacked would be the best way to describe how I’m currently feeling about the fact that two and half decades have already flown by since that memorable autumn day, especially since I remember it like it was yesterday.

As I’ve been deep in the throes of training for this year’s New York Marathon, which I’ll be running soon (!!) with my dear friend, and former college roommate, Janet Cook Hixson, I’ve been reminiscing about my first experience in the Big Apple, along with the many marathons that followed.

Yesterday I came across an ancient article I wrote for Runner’s World, which chronicled my first journey through New York. The beauty of being a Goddess Keeper of All Things Sentimental (aka pack rat) is that it’s never too difficult to put my fingers on memories. I’m sharing this relic here because it brings back all the feels, and leaves me sporting a big goofy smile, just like my finish line photo. A digital version of this piece never existed, so I’m simply posting a snapshot of the article, which will hopefully be legible enough to read.

When this little piece was published in November 1999, I was about to head back to New York to run my second marathon with Fred’s Team, an organization I cannot say enough good things about. The mission of this nonprofit, raising funds for Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, along with the fabulous (now former) Directors, Sue Shay and Sheila Lennon, and the team of passionate athletes who each had their own reasons for being part of it, all swirled together into a priceless gift for each of us.

The second and third time running New York were just as fun and gratifying as the first, especially when my friend Elizabeth Whitton joined the team and ran her first marathon along side me. Then in 2002 Elizabeth and I headed to France to run the Paris Marathon with Fred’s Team; and 2003 took my hubby Jeffrey and me to Italy so I could combine running the Rome Marathon with our honeymoon afterward. Then came the Portland Marathon nine months after our daughter was born, and then the inaugural Santa Barbara Marathon. The two most recent marathons I completed took place during Ironman triathlons in Arizona and Sacramento. Each of these races was different and memorable in its own way, and I do believe none of these marathons would have happened if I hadn’t fallen madly in love with my first one. If you want to see photos from some of those events, click on SPECIAL PEEPS | PLACES | EVENTS or find it on the menu bar at the top of this blog.

As Janet and I head to New York in early November, I cannot wait to share her first marathon with her, and also experience the race again through fresh, more mature eyes. I wonder if Janet will get hooked on 26.2 like I did or be thrilled with “one and done?” Will the energy be the same? Will the scale, almost 20,000 more runners than in 1998, be energizing or overwhelming, or both? Will I get choked up at the starting line like I always do? And when I cross the finish line will I know that it’s just the beginning of another adventure or decide 10 marathons is enough?

Whatever lies ahead, I know it will be memorable. New York never disappoints.

Onward we go!