Jess Teitelbaum

Where it All Began {the long version}

Boston 2012. No, not the marathon – I still haven’t run that. It was a fateful Boston 5k – wait, let me back up a bit. Way back in the ’90s, (yes, people, the 1900s) I ran in high school, sort of. I played soccer, and ran the mile in track – though I never took it very seriously. Then I graduated and became a full-fledge adult seemingly overnight – marrying and having children young. By the age of 26, I was the mother of two boys and divorced. Years later, I remarried then sat back and went through the motions of life. By 30, I was gaining weight quickly and consistently, had dangerously high blood pressure, and was suffering from migraines, and anxiety. I was on a fast track to having some medical emergency in my early-30s. In 2011, my husband, two sons, and I moved from Wisconsin to Massachusetts. I started life in a new place weighing more than I ever had (passing my 9-month pregnancy weight), and was living with the constant pain of edema, and digestive issues in addition to the migraines, and overall discomfort. From the outside, I didn’t appear as unhealthy as I was, but my doctors were definitely worried, and so was I.

Then, in early 2012 my sister-in-law called to ask me if I’d run the Boston 5k with her in April. I thought, why not, it would be fun, and since I used to run all the time in high school, what was 3.1 miles? I registered for the race, did some walk-runs around town and in April (delusionally) thought I was ready. Believe me when I tell you, I was NOT ready – it was a disaster! It was humbling, and depressing and a day I will never forget. I might have made it a quarter of a mile when, completely out of breath, attempting to suck in oxygen without attracting too much attention, I waved my sister-in-law on and told her to run without me. Not only could I not breathe, but my legs were on fire, and I had a terrible side stitch – I just could not continue running. I then proceeded to walk, then jog, then walk, on and on following the throng of people. What happened over the next couple of miles though changed my life. As I was walking past the one mile marker, I suddenly felt a hand tap my shoulder. I turned to see a man whom I would guess was in his 70s, giving me two thumbs up and saying, “Great job! You’ve got this!” as he ran past. Though I should have been encouraged, in that moment I was not – I was mortified. So, I pushed to jog as much as I could, then walked, then jogged, then walked. With about a quarter of a mile to go, walking again, I overheard two women who were undoubtedly talking about me since I was the only person walking, “Why would anyone sign up for a 5k if they can’t run a 5k? I mean, who can’t run a 5k?” It was hit #2, and far worse than being passed and cheered on by someone twice my age. I thought, she’s right, I have no business being here. This was a stupid idea, I haven’t run in 17 years, and I’m completely out of shape. I finished the race, and swore that I would never run, especially in public, ever again.

Now, my sister-in-law couldn’t accept that. So in the fall of that year, she started trying to convince me to run a half marathon. I hadn’t run one step since the Boston 5k, but I told her I’d think about it. I had zero intention of thinking about it. But to her, “thinking about it” might as well have meant yes. She was relentless – I gave in. Upon pressing the “Register” button, I took a moment (swore a little, questioned my sanity a lot), then decided I was going to take this race seriously – I learned my lesson last time, and 13.1 miles are no joke! I immersed myself with everything running, and began training. The next May, I ran that half marathon, and became addicted to training and running. After crossing the finish line, I immediately started looking for a bigger challenge, and within a month signed up to be a Homes for Our Troops charity runner in the Marine Corps Marathon that same year. Since then, I’ve run one or two marathon every year (well with the exception of 2020 – the year everything was exceptional). The reason I tell this lengthy story about my first race is because of the significant things that happened – which had to happen for me to be where I am today – and the lessons they taught me:

First, I needed to take important things seriously – and focus on what is most important: my health and well-being. What kind of mother and wife was I by being miserable and unhappy? What was my being lazy teaching my sons? Training improved all our lives immeasurably, but also taught me and my boys discipline, commitment, resiliency, determination, persistence, self-sufficiency, and dozens of other benefits.

Second, hope isn’t a strategy. You can’t fake endurance. And, results never happen overnight. It takes a lot of work, and consistency to see change – whether running a race, losing weight, learning something new…anything! 3.1 miles is a long way, especially with no training.

Third, running is running. Runners are runners. It doesn’t matter how young or old, thin or heavy, confident or apprehensive, or whether you are a professional, expert, or novice – if you’re trying, you’re a runner. In life, but especially in the running world, you cannot judge a book by its cover.

Fourth, I can do hard things. I’ve learned to love challenges, embrace soreness, and sacrifice trendy or unimportant things in order to achieve my goals.

Fifth, there is no shame in walking. It is ok to rest. As long as I keep moving forward, and don’t quit, I’m going to be ok.

Sixth, people can be cruel, they just are. Jerks are going to be jerks, but that’s their yoke, not mine. I need to focus on what I can control, and certainly not anyone who thinks it’s ok to humiliate someone just for walking a 5k.

And, that’s how I became a runner. You may be wondering if the weight melted off, and all my ailments disappeared. Yes, they did! Great news, right? Not exactly. Immediately, I stopped having migraines, began sleeping better, and stopped the weight gain. But it took a years of consistent training to lose a some weight and to bring my blood pressure to normal. Then it took a few more years of consistent running, training, weight lifting, AND food tracking to get my weight in a good place and start seeing excellent biometric markers. Nothing happens overnight, remember?

Somewhere along this journey, I realized that most of the people who wanted to hear about my running, my nutrition, and my schedule were non-runners. These were friends and coworkers watching me parent two teenagers, commute, work, and go to school full-time – all while marathon training. They were curious about running for health or signing up for a race, but didn’t know where to start, or erroneously believed they couldn’t run. So, in my spare time, I became a coach. Then a personal trainer. And here I am about to take my show on the road (well, the internet anyway)!

When I’m not running, I’m probably walking my Newfoundland, or playing with my new grandson! Other than that, I’m also a sourdough and cake baker (though not together – sourdough cake, um, no), and avid reader and writer. Life stays full, but for now, I’ve gotta run!