I hate being at school and now I hate being home. And it’s really hard to be happy when you feel like you’re alone everywhere you go.

I ran my first marathon yesterday. The feeling that comes with working for something for a long time and finally accomplishing it is one of the best feelings in the world. I felt like crying around mile 25 because I knew I was going to finish, my work was going to pay off, everything I had done in preparation for the race was worth it. And I realized at mile 25 that running the marathon was about so much more than just training and preparing and completing the race. This race was about recovery.

Throughout my training, I struggled with maintaining a healthy diet. I would tell myself not to eat, run seven miles, and end up eating twice as much. I was caught in a constant mind-versus-body struggle, my body telling me that I was starving and my head telling me that starving is good. I gained weight, I cried, I vowed to restrict my caloric intake the next day, and yet my body screamed the exact opposite. It told me that calories were necessary, that it could not complete the task I had set for it without proper nutrition. Some people run so they can eat; I eat so I can run.

When I crossed the finish line, the entire journey of my marathon training replayed itself in my mind. Everything I ate, every pound of muscle I gained, every day I did not exercise- it was all worth it. Yes, finishing the race is an accomplishment in itself. But I accomplished so much more than that. I remembered what it feels like to be proud of myself. I remembered what it feels like to have my parents be proud of me. I realized how many friends I have who support me and who want me to succeed. And perhaps most importantly, I rediscovered what my body can accomplish when I take care of it.

The race isn’t over, but I finally feel like I am winning.