Quotes from Kristin Armstrong

I run hills anytime I really have to think.

Pause today and notice something you have worked hard on and recognize yourself for it. Acknowledge your effort.

I love the big fresh starts, the clean slates like birthdays and new years, but I also really like the idea that we can get up every morning and start over.

I write about the power of trying, because I want to be okay with failing. I write about generosity because I battle selfishness. I write about joy because I know sorrow. I write about faith because I almost lost mine, and I know what it is to be broken and in need of redemption. I write about gratitude because I am thankful - for all of it.

We either live with intention or exist by default.

The time I spend in the morning - praying, sipping coffee, and coming up with my list - is a ritual I relish. I have done it for so long now that I subconsciously measure whether or not the things I'm doing match with what I should be doing, what I want to be doing, and the life I want to live.

Perhaps love's greatest gift--that it is indeed unconditional--is also its greatest curse.

I love the thought of not knowing how things will turn out but the willingness to invest anyway.

What I have learned about the sport of cycling is that you have to love it to do it because you're not going to retire off of it.

What I've learned over the last 6 or 7 years, I would love to teach people. I still have a lot to share with people and especially within the US.

Runners and yogis are alike in lots of ways, and not just because some of us need yoga to unkink what running jams. Runners and yogis are also alike because of this tortoise shell idea, this 'home' we can access inside ourselves.

To me, there is no greater way to achieve clarity than to run alone, or share miles with a trusted friend.

I think, as most of us do, I put such high expectations on myself that this spills over onto other people. And not everyone is wired this way. Some people can shrug expectations off their shoulders like a cardigan, remaining cool and breezy. Others wear them like a parka with a stuck zipper, hot and stifling.

Typically creative people are usually not clock-slaves or list-makers, so the idea of enforcing goals and deadlines can be somewhat daunting.

We all have our ways of handling fear and managing trying; jumping in or climbing down, a direct approach or a delay, joyful or miserable, a spirit of adventure, or God help me, get this thing over with.

I love the thought of not knowing how things will turn out but the willingness to invest anyway.

Running is a grownup's lost link to playing outside.

Perhaps love's greatest gift--that it is indeed unconditional--is also its greatest curse.

Every mile marker can be met with some measure of trepidation, in a race or in life. Am I on target? Do I have what it takes to finish strong? Am I taking care to stay nourished so I can endure? Is my training proving to be sufficient? Am I prepared for the hills? It is impossible to fathom the full distance, so we make our way to the next mile marker, and the next, checking in with ourselves as we go.

Sweat has the power to end a pity party in such a way that even the hostess is happy.

I avoid the carwash when I think it might rain anytime in the near future, which means I drive around the majority of the time in a pollen and bird poop covered car. This presents a stand off between Neat Freakshow and Practical Pennypincher, and Neat Freak usually triumphs. And then it rains.

We postpone the finality of heartbreak by clinging to hope. Though this might be acceptable during early or transitional stages of grief, ultimately it is no way to live. We need both hands free to embrace life and accept love, and that's impossible if one hand has a death grip on the past.

Running has taken me in and continues to comfort, heal, and challenge me in all kinds of magical ways. I am not a good runner because I am me; I am a good me because I am a runner.

Embrace your sweat. It is your essence and your emancipation.