Today, I held my race bib in my hands. Just three days stand between me and the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. Looking down at that number, a tidal wave of mixed excitement, nerves, and deep emotion washed over me. Because today, I stand here knowing that almost two years to the day after I suddenly became ill—losing the ability to walk and navigating the uncharted waters of Guillain-Barré Syndrome and a functional neurologic disorder—I am holding a marathon bib. I am ready to take on 26.2 miles. This journey has been the ultimate test of resilience. If this chapter has taught me anything, it’s about the power of perseverance and fighting for what you believe in. It’s about letting go of the exhausting "should haves, could haves, and would haves," and radically refocusing on what we can control in life, instead of getting lost in our wishes. It requires stepping far outside our comfort zone and refusing to be afraid to fail—because that discomfort, that friction, is precisely where growth occurs. It’s about learning to give yourself profound grace on the days your body goes off-script. And above all, it’s about operating from a place of "yes." Yes to showing up. Yes to lacing up when the road is hard. Yes to trusting your body and the process even when you can't quite feel your feet hitting the pavement. Along this road, I have learned that we never truly walk alone. The way people show up and support us—sometimes in the most unexpected places—is nothing short of magical. And my anchor has been my incredible family and friends. To Marc and our kiddos, Mom and Dad, our entire family, my trainers, and every single soul who has checked in, cheered, donated to Team Sharsheret, or sent a word of encouragement: I see you, and I am profoundly grateful. My heart is overflowing. Thank you—truly, everyone—for being the fuel in my tank, the wind at my back, and the reason I get to look in the mirror and smile at the person staring back. Eyes forward. Let's run 26.2.

The milestone I once whispered about as a distant, intimidating dream is suddenly right in front of us. Today, I completed my second and final 23-miler—the longest mileage I have EVER tackled in my life. Standing on the other side of that distance, I am stepping into my taper next week, and it feels completely surreal to realize that October 11th and the Bank of America Chicago Marathon are almost here. Looking back at the training blocks, the freezing early mornings, the humidity, the smokey air, the bugs, and the grueling physical adjustments, I am flooded with emotion. My body has literally been with me since day one—it has been through it all with me. Today, my body is the strongest it has ever been. It has fought through adversity, adapted, rebuilt, and carried me farther than I ever imagined possible. More than anything, I am so proud that Lauri, Teddy, and Naomi can see their Mom be proud of a strong woman's body. As I stand here on the threshold of race day, my heart overflows with gratitude. I want to express my most profound and tremendous thanks to every single one of my family members and friends. Your unwavering support, your constant check-ins, your cheers, and your belief in me have been the true fuel in my tank when the miles felt heaviest. This journey has also been profoundly intertwined with a cause that means the world to me: Sharsheret. The work Sharsheret does is nothing short of life-changing, providing critical support, guidance, and resources to individuals and families facing breast, ovarian, and endometrial cancer. Being part of this team has given my training a deeper purpose. While my marathon journey has reached its peak, Sharsheret’s vital work continues every single day. If you haven't yet had a chance to contribute—or if you feel inspired to help sustain these incredible services—there is still time to support my fundraiser with a donation. There is a profound poetic symmetry to where we are right now. We have just closed out the year 5786 and stepped into the fresh, new beginning of 5787. To reach this pinnacle of training and move toward this massive goal right in the heart of the Jewish New Year feels so deeply fitting—a literal and figurative fresh start. And as we now enter the solemn, reflective days of Yom Kippur, I find myself looking forward to a time of deep introspection, quiet reflection, and putting my absolute best self forward into the new year. Eyes forward. The finish line is calling, and I am so deeply grateful to share this road with all of you.

The Chicago Marathon is creeping closer (12 weeks to go), and if I’m being honest, the training has officially hit that "rigorous" phase. Through the team at Sharsheret, I’ve had the incredible opportunity to be guided by Coach Mikael Hanson, whose expertise is pushing me further than I thought possible. I have been consistent and diligent, even through these last few weeks of heat and humidity that would make anyone want to hide indoors. I’m learning to embrace the sweat—but more importantly, I’m learning to embrace grace. There are days when my brain and my mental strength feel completely depleted. There are days when my feet are there...but they're not; clearly they are attached to my body, but there is no awareness or feeling there. Some days my body decides to incorporate "fun" shakes, twitches, and uncontrolled movements into the run. There are "dig deep" kind of days. But when I'm coming up empty on those days, I find myself questioning how will I actually find the strength to keep moving forward? When I’m struggling and the temptation to cut corners or skip a run feels overwhelming, I have to remind myself: there’s no grade here. There’s no promotion, no paycheck, and no one is hovering over me to monitor if I follow through. But I still have to look at myself in the mirror. I have to return to my "why." In those moments, the ability to pick up the phone and hear Marc’s voice is the lifeline I don't know how I’d navigate without. And at night, tucked in with the kids, hearing them talk about their own days—and sharing how proud they are of me—is what truly refills my internal "jar" when it runs dry. We’ve spent so much time talking to our kids about their own sports—Lauri with her dance and softball, Teddy with his travel baseball, and Naomi with her travel softball. We talk about how to take the frustration of a "bad" day and turn it into the fuel needed to put in that extra 150% of effort. I always tell them it’s not about the game itself, but the invisible, supportive work you do in the shadows that gets you to the finish line. Recently, it was Teddy and Naomi who turned the mirror back on me during a drive home from a tournament. They pointed out that I’m teaching them exactly what I preach: you can’t just wake up and run 26.2 miles. It takes months of discipline, muscle support, and sacrifice. They see the reality of balancing a full-time career, the "Uber-Mom" life, the cooking, and the cleaning—and they see that the training is the foundation for everything else. I’ve been following several athletes lately who emphasize having an "attitude of gratitude," and it resonates with me on a core level. I am so profoundly grateful for this body—for its resilience, its strength, and its ability to recover. Eyes forward. This daunting goal is becoming reality, and I am so grateful to be on this road.

They say Chicago weather builds character, but the Shamrock Shuffle builds spirit. This race has always been my favorite—the sea of green, the costumes, and the unmistakable energy. But this year, running through those streets was a measurement of how far I’ve come. I’ll admit, the tears started at the start line and didn’t really stop. Crossing the Chicago bridges and heading down State Street, I felt a wave of bittersweet pride. Hearing the cheers from Marc and the kids was the fuel I needed to keep pushing. It’s not always easy to feel proud of yourself, but seeing that finish line and knowing what my body has fought through to get there? That was a moment of pure determination. Of course, the road wasn't perfectly smooth—literally! One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this recovery is finding the humor when my body decides to go "off-script." There are moments when my feet decide they aren't going to work quite right, or I find myself tripping over my own shadow because I can’t quite feel where my feet are landing. In the past, that might have been frustrating, but now? I’ve learned to laugh at the clumsiness. It’s all part of the journey. I’ve found a deep sense of acceptance in focusing on what I can control. I can’t always control my nerves or my feet, but I can control my effort and my smile. With the Chicago Marathon just 6 months away, my mindset is shifting. The "shock" is turning into a focused action plan. I’m soaking up this spring weather and feeling so inspired by my friends who are also tackling their first marathons this year. To everyone who has cheered, checked in, and supported my fundraising journey—thank you. Saying it means the world is an understatement.

They say Chicago weather builds character, and this winter is certainly putting that to the test! Despite the frigid temperatures and the biting wind, my training is going incredibly well. There is something uniquely empowering about lacing up when the thermometer dips; it reminds me that I am stronger than the elements. This season of life has been a lesson in resilience. I am so deeply proud of my body—not just for the miles it’s logging, but for its incredible ability to overcome obstacles. Facing medical issues has been one of the greatest adversities I’ve navigated, and seeing how my body is fighting back and adapting fills me with a sense of wonder. I’ve learned that being kind to our bodies and minds isn't just a luxury; it’s a necessity. I am practicing gratitude every single day, leaning into the power of a positive mindset to carry me through the moments when the road feels long. While I’m putting in the work on the pavement, my training looks a little different this time around. To support my recovery and build a strong foundation, I’ve been putting in serious work off the road too. I’ve embraced swimming as a low-impact way to keep my cardio up, alongside dedicated weight training to support and protect my muscles. I’ll be honest: I was caught off guard by the amount of muscle loss I experienced due to my medical challenges. It was a humbling realization, but I’ve chosen to face it head-on. With the incredible support and encouragement of the trainers at the gym—who have been such a light during the tough sessions—I am slowly but surely rebuilding. None of this would be possible without the unwavering love and support of my family and friends. Your check-ins, your cheers, and your belief in me mean more than I can put into words. You are the fuel in my tank when the Chicago wind is at its strongest. I am especially excited to look toward the spring for the Shamrock Shuffle! It will be my first official run since this journey began, and I can’t wait to cross that finish line as a symbol of how far I’ve come. Thank you for being part of my "why." Every donation and every kind word brings me one step closer to 26.2.

The official journey for the Chicago Marathon 2026 has started! Chicago gave me a very enthusiastic welcome this week with plenty of snow and ice. While my heart always wants to brave the cold (it’s my favorite!), my head won't let me risk an injury on the slick sidewalks, so the treadmill and I became fast friends. I'm prioritizing safe miles right now. My current daily focus is 4 miles running and 2 miles walking, combined with cross training. Honestly, I’m just so proud of my body for being in a place where I can even consider tackling this amazing, challenging goal again. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to my family, friends, and the entire community for your support. Your encouragement means the world as I chase this dream. #MarathonTraining #Chicago2026 #ProudMoment #FitnessJourney