This article was originally published in the Lansing State Journal on October 5, 2018 I can't say with certainty when I first realized I was becoming a runner. It might have been the first time I used the phrase “dynamic warm-up” in casual conversation, or when I showed up to a team practice an hour early to get in extra miles before the rest of the group arrived at the park, or the first time I looked at my calendar and lamented about how little time I had to devote to training that week. Not too long ago, any of those experiences would have been completely unimaginable to me, and even now I am surprised by how running has completely changed my life in so little time.  Growing up, running didn't interest me. The track at my school, a stripe of white paint outlining the shape of an oval on the blacktop behind the gym, was a place to be dreaded for the duration of one spluttering, wheezing mile every spring during fitness testing and studiously avoided for the remainder of the year. As I grew older and my peers got involved in sports, my pursuits remained purely sedentary. It wasn't that I disliked running: I simply believed in my heart that I didn't have what it took. Runners, I thought, should be graceful and speedy without effort, whereas I was a plodding asthmatic who lacked physical talent.  It wasn't until early 2016 during a long and tremendously uncomfortable recovery from an injury to my left foot that my attitude softened. Through weeks on crutches after surgery and months of pain, I was struck repeatedly by a surprising, sad, and completely out-of-character thought: “I'll never get to be a runner now, but I could have been.” I didn't know where this sudden burst of regret was coming from, but I made a promise to myself nevertheless: if I ever healed completely and got the chance to start running, I would take it. My foot no longer troubled me during most activities of daily living by the following autumn but it wasn't until the start of 2018 that I felt ready to attempt training in earnest. In January, I signed up for Team Playmakers and attended my first practice. I arrived wildly underdressed for the bitter cold and felt completely intimidated as the more seasoned runners around me chattered about recent PRs and marathon finishes. I ran four and a half miles that day and felt like I had accomplished the impossible. More importantly, I was hooked. Over the next few months, I set about learning how to run with a single-mindedness that made my loved ones wonder what had come over me. I cobbled together workout plans based on advice from the internet, picked the brains of friends who had been devotees of the sport for years, and learned everything I could from my new teammates. I made countless mistakes - skipping breakfast before long runs, setting out onto trails only to realize that they were flooded after days of heavy rain, wearing my shoes that should have been traded in for a new pair - but over time, my physical strength and confidence in my abilities grew. Despite my haphazard training regimen, by the first weekend of June, I had run, walked, and stumbled through my first trail half marathon. After arriving back home that day, I signed up for another. On September 22, I ran in the Capital City River Run half marathon. By that point, I had a few races under my belt, but this was both my first real road race and by far the biggest event of my short career. Less than a year earlier, I could barely have imagined running 13.1 miles, but on that perfect autumn morning and in the company of two of my teammates with dozens more all around us, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Crossing the finish line, I felt not only the satisfaction of a goal met and exceeded but also the incredible feeling of possibility in all that is still yet to come for me.  Before running, I never knew I could find such joy and peace in the feeling of pavement, grass, trail, and boardwalk under my shoes; that I'd be able to call myself an athlete and a teammate; or that my life would be better because I decided to take a chance on myself and this sport. I don't know yet what my future as a runner will bring or what kind of adventures are still down the road for me, but I know that I have what it takes to get there on my own two feet.