How to Lose a Toenail
The answer, of course, is running. Although it did surprise me that in all the miles spent training for my quest of completing a half marathon (I trained for three…details to follow), it was the actual race itself that cost me a toenail. It didn’t fall out until a few weeks after the race, mind you, but it had been the kind of color that prompted my dermatologist to say to the young medical hopeful who was shadowing her on the day I had my yearly appointment that this was what was referred to as “runner’s toe.” I’d never felt so legitimate, so more officially initiated as a true runner. That is, until the toenail came off completely.
The thing you have to know about me and running is I spent my life avoiding it. On purpose. I talk more about it in my newest book (order Auntie if you haven’t yet!), but I always thought running was not in the cards for me due to some medical stuff I’d been told after many doctors and tests back in my college days. It took twenty years, and a very encouraging partner, for me to decide to actually try it. It was slow going (and still is even after much improvement), but to think that I went from being sure running was impossible for me to running a half marathon—a full 13 miles without stopping—is truly amazing to me. It made crossing that finish line, and every step along the way, mean more than it probably does to most other half finishers.
My first attempt, back in 2023, was cancelled only hours before the start time due to the impending Hurricane Hilary that was predicted to make an appearance in San Diego. It really just brought some rain, nothing that couldn’t have been run through, so it was a pretty big disappointment to have gotten myself all trained up and have no race to run. In 2024, at the end of training up for my second attempt, once I reached the 12-mile mark, I injured my quad and had to pull out of the race just a few weeks before it was scheduled. After recovering from that injury, getting and recovering from a bad case of Covid, and recovering from yet another injury as I once again tried to train up, a full year had gone by. Which is why it is only now, in 2025, that I was healthy enough to attempt a half for the third time. Luckily, this one was indeed the charm.
I loved everything about the race. The weather, the scenery, the kick-ass playlist I made for myself (a special treat for someone who typically runs with podcasts), the fans and their signs, the same partner who first encouraged me to try running now waiting at the finish line while sending texts like “You’re flying!” On the slower side of runners, I certainly wasn’t flying, but then again, it kind of felt like I was. That I was doing it at all. What I WAS doing was running faster than my normal pace, which caught up with me by the end, but I never stopped running.
So just a little note from me to say that the thing you’ve been wanting to accomplish might actually be possible, even if you’ve spent years thinking that it isn’t. If nothing else, you can always try. You can start with going from one lamp post to another. You can take your time. You can go at your own pace. You can defer and try again. You can recover from setbacks. And then, when you succeed, you can proudly show your battle scars. Anyone want to see my toe?