“You’re Off to Great Places!”: My New England Running Journey

“You’re Off to Great Places!”: My New England Running Journey

“Often when you think you’re at the end of something, you’re at the beginning of something else.”

– Fred (Mister) Rodgers

Recently, and on a foggy but temperate Sunday morning, I, along with my brother Jeff visited the historic town of Mystic, CT, and I closed one chapter of my running book. Not only is Mystic beautiful, but it reminded me that running in New England is second to none. While reintroducing me to half marathon running, Mystic served as a milestone moment in my running journey. Today, I want to explore my New England running adventures. As an individual formally devoid of running, I used my New England upbringing to carve out a lofty but inspiring, yet sometimes spirited, running goal. Mystic served as a fitting location as my last New England state completed during my trek to run in every U.S. state, a plan I started in 2015. Each New England state offered a unique race experience, some emotional and exciting, others downright depressing and awkwardly infuriating. No matter the outcome of any race, miles of New England roads were counted, and I seek to retrace them.

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Welcome to Newport, RI & Remember to Order the Fried Calamari

Welcome to Newport, RI & Remember to Order the Fried Calamari

“Most men, they’ll tell you a story straight through. It won’t be complicated, but it won’t be interesting either.”

– Albert Finney (Senior Ed Bloom) from Big Fish

I love to tell a story. Spinning tales about travel, personal dislike of snow, and even craft beer crusades allow me to narrate the story of my life, but hopefully, in an entertaining fashion. It reminds me of the film, Big Fish. I constantly think of the line Billy Crudup delivers, as William Bloom, “Have you ever heard a joke so many times you’ve forgotten why it’s funny? And then you hear it again, and suddenly it’s new. You remember why you loved it in the first place.” That is how writing posts on this blog makes me feel. I have forgotten the central meaning of so many stories that I see those events from a fresh perspective as I dig through photos or retread old roads. This fact became clear during a recent trip Corinne and I took to Newport, RI.

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