Anybody can run, and anybody can practice yoga. I think that is why these two activities hold so much appeal to me, and to so many people. They don't require expensive gear, they can be done anywhere, and they can be with us throughout our lives.
New Yorkers have made an art out of running. From running up bar tabs to running down pedestrians; from running into ex-boyfriends to running out of patience. But the decision to run or not to run the Marathon -- that was the question.
Why is okay for the professional sports players to play on Sunday, but not the average person who has trained hard and is getting paid nothing? Why do average people have to make the donations and sacrifices, while the professionals don't?
With the New York City Marathon just around the corner (we hope), many athletes, workout enthusiasts and fitness newbies are looking to the streets or the treadmill for a spot of cardio. There's no doubt that when done properly, running can be great for heart, body and mind.
The 26.2 miles I will run on November 4 may be for my father and other stroke survivors, but this race has become about so much more. Since deciding to run the marathon, I have traveled over 900 miles by foot, and spent nearly 140 hours training.
Last year my kids joined First Lady Michelle Obama on the White House lawn to help National Geographic Kids break the record for jumping jacks. This year they'll be doing a 100-meter run to help break the Guinness World Record for the most people to run 100 meters in 24 hours.
To say that we should pay closer attention to now is a good start, but not the whole story. Running those last strides as if they were the final lap of the Olympic marathon, I was not paying closer attention to the now, but rather, I was it.
You have to be mentally, emotionally and physically tough if you want to reach your goal of training and running for a marathon -- or any race, for that matter. It comes down to the double Ds: discipline and durability.
You see, Coach Wooden taught me that being a true leader is not about accolades or awards, but rather is manifested through our eagerness to help others -- and boost their self-esteem when they are feeling low.
Even as we are reduced to bib numbers and the singlet of our running club, and even as each race is an individual race with our own mind and body, there is something very social that happens once we get spread out across the course.
We're all different -- in the way we speak, the way we think, and unsurprisingly, the way we run. Thus, when determining the optimal running shoe, it's imperative to consider your Three Ps: pattern, passion and purpose.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I had recently come to the conclusion that I was a runner. Ironically, about three days later while running the Yonkers Half-Marathon, I managed to hurt myself and irritate what turned out to be a chronic ligament tear.
With the ability to regularly recognize key scientific components from an abstract, the savvy reader will be in a position to better-police that other omnipresent science information filter, the one that sometimes operates with mixed efficiency: mainstream media.
This is the first of a series of blogs that will keep you injury-free while running. This post will focus on mobility and flexibility, and by the time I've completed the series, you'll be ready to take on your next marathon or your average jog.
Running brings me clarity. Balance. An outlet. Trusted confidantes. A feeling of power. A sense of achievement. Strong legs. Toned arms. I run because being an adult is hard. And being a runner makes it less hard.
Everyone that I've met on this run would have absolutely loved Jill. She had one of those personalities with which people could immediately relate. She would also be proud that we have been able to educate people about the daunting truth of lung cancer.
This is an update on The Great Lung Run, my 3,500-mile run across the country to raise money and awareness for lung cancer. I am taking on this challenge in honor of a dear childhood friend, Jill Costello, who lost her battle with lung cancer at just 22.
I've heard some people say that you're not a runner until you run your first race, or until you run 50 miles a week, or until you run your first marathon. Some people are even generous enough to say you simply have to take your first steps. I disagree with all of this.