Tag: @261fearlessclublosangeles

On November 14, 2025, my husband Ken and I flew from Los Angeles into Phoenix Airport for the Every Woman’s Marathon. What a wonderful surprise it was to see Julie Weiss, the Marathon Goddess herself, on the very same plane. She was warm, gracious, and exactly the radiant spirit you’d imagine. It felt like a beautiful blessing to start the weekend.

We stayed at the R E M I, a beautiful new hotel, in Scottsdale, Arizona, the city-host location for the marathon. On November 15, I attended a special 261 Fearless, Inc. breakfast with Kathrine Switzer and other 261 Fearless marathoners. It was a beautiful time together — encouraging, uplifting, and deeply meaningful.

On November 16, I took on the Every Woman’s Marathon. And let me say this honestly and proudly: I power walked the entire marathon. I made the cutoff time, doing a 7:32, with the cutoff set at 7:45. I power walked the whole way — steady, determined, and believing.

We started out in heavy rain and freezing cold, standing in the corrals for about an hour as I was in Corral 10. The storm passed on while we were still in the corrals. Early on, around miles 3 to 5, people began to struggle, with blisters, fatigue and other mental and physical issues. A lot of first-timers were out there, and by mile 13, some were dropping or stepping off the course. I don’t know if that was their plan or if the conditions simply got the best of them.

Before my corral launched, I went up to Kathrine Switzer, Marathon Woman herself. I hugged her and said, “I’ll go as far as I can go.” She smiled and told me that was good enough. Her words carried me.

At mile 13, I sat down on the curb, wrestling with a packet of GU waffle (which I could barely open), thinking that maybe I had gone far enough. I felt strong physically — no stomach issues, no intestinal problems, no dreaded runner’s lean, and my sciatica stayed quiet. But mentally, I felt that pull to stop. Some had stepped off the course there, and I was tempted.

I reached out in my mind to Katherine… and then, suddenly, I felt my husband Ken reaching across the miles. A warm glow washed over me — gentle, steady, unmistakable. It felt like he was lifting me up. I stood. I knew I could go on.

I reached mile 18 without hitting any kind of wall. I sailed through it — and again, no lean, no stomach trouble, nothing but determination. I knew then: this was going to be my day. At age 74½, I felt in my bones that I was going to complete this marathon.

From mile 13 onward, I used the course food and electrolytes. I hadn’t trained with them, but they worked fine. I had a little comedy of errors with the GU gels — squirting one straight up in the air, losing some, then another right into the back of my throat — but even that couldn’t dampen my spirits.

The sun grew very hot, and many people were suffering under that bright heat, but I continued to power walk. I passed many people. The support on the course was wonderful. If someone couldn’t, or chose not to finish, no problem — volunteers gently picked them up and helped them along. It truly felt like a marathon rooted in compassion.

At mile 25, I reached for a cup of electrolytes from the table. A volunteer offered it, and as I leaned in, I nearly fell into him. That’s when I realized I was woozy. So I played it very carefully from mile 25 to 26.2, staying alert and steady.

And then — the finish line.

I ran straight into Kathrine Switzer’s arms. She hugged me, she loved me, she put the medal around my neck, and she walked with me all the way to the exit of the finish area. It was one of the most beautiful, unforgettable moments of my life.

Afterward, I rested for five to six hours. I wasn’t hurting — just quite tired. But by early evening, around seven or eight, I was fully recovered, packing my bags and feeling completely myself again. Since then, I’ve felt wonderful. Elated. Grateful. Amazed.

I still can’t quite believe it happened.

This marathon was a dream come true. I’m still walking on air — still walking on sunshine. And I am so grateful that at 74½, I was able to cross that finish line with strength, joy, and a heart full of gratitude.

JOURNEY ON! KEEP ON QUESTING!

Since mid-September, I’ve been working through a new challenge on my journey toward the Every Woman’s Marathon. I was recently diagnosed with facet spondylosis at L5-S1, with mild anterior subluxation at L5 and additional involvement at L4 and S1.

Alongside this diagnosis came a series of physical therapy exercises — hip flexor stretches, quadupeds multifidus lifts, alternating arm and leg bird-dogs with an elastic band, supine hip external rotations with TrA activation, glute med stretches, hip posterior capsule stretches, and seated sciatic nerve glides. Each movement is helping me strengthen, realign, and heal.

I’ve been experiencing moderate sciatic nerve pain radiating from my right hip, with tingling sensations that sometimes travel down my leg toward my ankle or toes. Turning can be difficult, and sitting often makes it worse — yet, interestingly, running and walking bring relief.

So, I’ve kept moving. I’ve continued training, one step at a time, guided by faith, determination, and the belief that motion itself can be healing. This journey has reminded me that endurance is not just physical — it’s also a practice of patience, courage, and gratitude.

Here’s to movement, healing, and hope — and to every woman finding her own fearless path forward.

Journey On. Keep On Questing. 💜✨

Today marked my last long run before the Every Woman’s Marathon — 10 miles on my new NordicTrack treadmill. I kept a steady rhythm: 10 minutes running and 5 minutes of power walking to finish strong.

It felt good — steady, strong, and hopeful. After weeks of training, early mornings, and determination through challenges, it’s now time to taper and let the body recover before the big day.

Race day is November 16th, and I’m aiming to finish within the 7-hour, 45-minute cutoff. We’ll see how it all unfolds, but I’m feeling grateful just to be here — to move, to persevere, and to look forward with excitement and faith.

The journey continues — one step, one mile, one heartbeat at a time.
Journey On. Keep On Questing. 💜✨

Each day brings its own rhythm — some steady, some challenging, but all part of the journey. As I continue preparing for the Every Woman’s Marathon, I’ve been paying close attention not only to my miles but to my overall health and well-being.

This season has reminded me that progress isn’t always measured by speed or distance. Sometimes, it’s found in listening to our bodies, in resting when needed, and in celebrating the small victories that build strength and resilience.

I’m grateful for the support, encouragement, and inspiration that surrounds me — from my 261 Fearless sisters to all the women who lace up and move forward, no matter what.

Every step is a gift. Every mile, a story of courage.
Journey On. Keep On Questing. 💜✨

This week marked week 14 of my 15-week training plan — with week 16 bringing the big event: the Every Woman’s Marathon. It was also week 10 of running half marathons, and I can now proudly say I’ve completed 10 half marathons in 10 consecutive weeks.

This run felt different — stronger, smoother, and more confident. It turned out to be my fastest half marathon yet, and I extended it to 14 miles. The “lean” that sometimes creeps in didn’t happen this time. I think what made the difference was better fueling and a new rhythm: walking for 15 minutes, then running for 15 minutes.

All of it was done on my new NordicTrack treadmill, which has been a great training companion.

At 74 and a half, I truly feel like one of the strongest women who will be out there — but I also know this marathon will be a real test. It’s a challenging race, especially at my age, but I’m going to give it everything I have.

This week marked one of the biggest milestones in my training for the Every Woman’s Marathon — the 20-mile run. Nine half-marathons in nine weeks. It was challenging, both mentally and physically. I didn’t finish within the time I hoped for; in fact, it took me an hour longer than planned. But I finished — and that’s what matters most.

Somewhere after the halfway point, that familiar runner’s lean appeared again, this time pulling me to the right. It’s frustrating, especially when it grows stronger by mile 18. Still, I kept moving forward, one step at a time, determined to complete the distance.

Every long run teaches me something new about endurance, patience, and persistence. I may not know exactly how 26.2 miles will unfold, but I do know this: I’ve come too far to give up now. Every mile is part of the journey — a testament to courage, resilience, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going when the road gets tough.

Here’s to showing up, giving your all, and believing in the strength that carries you forward — one mile at a time.

JOURNEY ON! KEEP ON QUESTING!