In June, I ran my first marathon. If you are a regular reader, you will remember that my training was somewhat touch-and-go, which is pretty much par for the course for me. The race was hard, obviously, because running 26 miles is hard.
It held some additional meaning for me, though, because this summer was also the tenth anniversary of my sexual assault. Thanks to support from my family and very close friends (and an excellent therapist), I worked up the courage to write an essay about the experience. Eventually, I pitched it to Trail Runner magazine, where I worked with a very compassionate editor to make this piece what it is, and I am proud and also terrified to share it with the world at large.
Writing this piece felt at least as cathartic as running the race. I understand that the magazine will share it on their Facebook page tomorrow, and Bix has already made me vow not to read the comments, which is probably smart because the Internet can be great but it can also be a horrifying wasteland where humanity and empathy go to die. In any case, this essay is personal and painful and I am glad to have written it.
Here’s hoping we’re moving toward a place where this sort of thing, which is all too commonplace, ceases to be the norm. Without further ado, here’s a link.
Reclaiming Trauma Through Running
A decade after she was sexually assaulted, a runner finds peace on the trails