Letting myself heal from an injury requires a more rugged path than I recall when I'm feeling good and/or fit. Considering how anxiety may be stymied by inspiration, I am very much appreciating the inspiration that coaching may provide. I see how some of the academically over-achieving athletes bear their pressurized burdens stacked on their pony-tailed heads. Yes, the world may weigh heavily on our weary shoulders as we furrow our long distance-hardened brows. In attempting to lighten some loads of what consumes them, or of what distracts them from the realm of possibility on the track, I get to revisit sources of de-stressing as well.

A phenomenal source of inspiration is stellar role models and/or showcase of such leading ladies. See: this weekend in Boston. Tonight, I embark on an adventure to Beantown, planned months in advance after my boyfriend qualified to run the marathon. I am obviously excited for this trip for a variety of reasons, but as it turns out, one of them is to be able to witness the Women's US Olympic Marathon Trials on Sunday. I admire these women not only for their athletic abilities, but for the maturity – let alone attention span - required to race 26.2 miles. Tangent: I’m bummed I won’t be able to watch Marla Runyan or Colleen De Reuck tear it up, but it ought to still be a sweet showdown; and I hope to see Joan Samuelson run her last trials. And, for the record, the first time women were allowed to compete in the Olympic Marathon was in the 1984 games, when I was almost three months old and when Joan (then Benoit) dominated the field.

When talking about pushing the realm of possibilities, it’s hard not to talk about Katherine Switzer. Contemplate being tackled by a race official at mile 2, only continue through each grueling stage the marathon offers; and your furrow might raise some degree to the sky in astonishment.

A mentor of mine, who gave birth to my close friend and lends sound advice on my endeavors, heard Switzer speak. After giving me an autographed copy of Switzer's book for an early birthday present, she reminded me how this story reminded her of her daughter's running ambitions, of how those ambitions encouraged her own leap into running. Switzer's story epitomizes a pertinent lesson for all, but especially for the injured, stressed and/or discriminated: persist.

Switzer's persistence is – and was – largely fueled by the hope to embolden other women to run. This is her retort to the abundance of critics. If she – or we – were to listen too closely to those naysaying words so easily thrown around, derailment from any goal's path may seem eminent. Sound advice exists, but filtering the plethora of telling voices requires learning to really liisten to oneself, and especially to those one trusts and admires.