⋆ Second Gen Desi ⋆

Reading Time: 10 minutes

Before that night in late spring of my junior year of high school, I could not comprehend how painful a mental breakdown truly was.

I played singles varsity tennis that fall. I had been awarded the position of first chair flute in county honor band that winter. And that night, I had completed two regional competitions for Robotics as president of my high school team, bringing home an award for our website as well—-something that had been a personal project of mine finally received validation, yet it triggered my anger.

Logically, I had nothing to “cry over”, yet the dark idea that it would all come crashing down triggered the tears, guttural yelling, and body slams against the floor of my parents’ bedroom.

My mom with her own mental illness, fueled the fire with her share of yelling and ridicule that I was the one that needed help. My dad, shocked at the scene going on before him and unable to stop my incessant crying and self-harm, threatened to call the police.

But this only pushed out more tears, and at one point, my body couldn’t take it anymore. I continued to lay on the floor listlessly while my parents calmed down as well.

The police never came, but Dad thought I should see a therapist. I was resentful, given the fact that my mother had not seen a doctor in years, but part of me felt the urge to see someone, with a sprinkling of curiosity.

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I have lived with depression since then, with it popping in and out of my life at varying intensities, depending on how kind my environment was to me.

An eating disorder was mixed in as well, sometimes making it unclear what was first to influence what.

The depression, along with OCD tendencies, popped up along my PhD journey as well, with one of my darker episodes occurring at a time when so many unknowns were at play… the biggest of which was the worry of how soon my first, first-author paper would be published, if I would be able to graduate, and if it was even worth all of the anxiety and emotional breakdowns I was going through.

It was around this time I decided to see my third therapist, but also consider taking medication for the first time. When I received the news that my paper had been accepted, that itself lifted away the weight of the world that was pressed so firmly at my shoulders for the past six months, but I still felt it necessary to seek out professional help.

Dr. S was an immense help through the first half of 2019. It may have helped that my environment suddenly turned friendly, but she helped me battle the ennui I was now experiencing as I inched towards a summer graduation.

At first I saw her once a week so she could get to know me better and monitor me as I started taking Lexapro for the first time. I was on 5mg initially, but was bumped up to 10mg. Beyond a few headaches and fatigue, the pill got acquainted with my body and lifestyle, although I personally didn’t feel any changes.

Especially since I still felt cyclical anger and irritability.

Dr. S was a trained psychiatrist, but would not continue writing prescriptions for patients unless paired with counseling sessions. I enjoyed our sessions in the beginning, since I was able to vent to her about my desire to start anew outside of SoCal. She knew about my plans to apply for a fellowship in Italy, and how I yearned to have the opportunity to meet new people and travel all over.

When my plans were starting to gel by November 2019, I began to grow tired of my sessions with Dr. S. Like with the therapists of my past, I had hit a plateau with her. I felt like I didn’t need her anymore, and that my depression had retreated once I received confirmation about Italy.

Of course with COVID in early 2020, my plans changed dramatically. I was “stuck” in Tulsa (although now I see it as a blessing I wish I could relive again). Being with my family definitely played a key role in mitigating stress. I was still taking my Lexapro, but popping a pill each day without knowing if it was truly serving its purpose was beginning to irritate me, to say the least.

Dr. S wrote me a prescription for 90 days to take with me as I settled down in Milan, but who’s to say if it got me through my two weeks of isolating self-quarantine?

Because my mind was already set on starting fresh and throwing myself into a different world, I felt ready to stop the Lexapro. I didn’t want to rely on medication to modulate my mood for the rest of my life, especially if it wasn’t doing its purported action in the first place.

Things seemed to be going wonderfully at work.

I was finally opening up and starting to date for the very first time in my life.

In fact, I was lucky to meet someone so early in the “game” who I clicked with instantly.

And with all of this new-found happiness, I wanted to see what my body could do on its own…in an environment where I felt in control and eager about navigating through.

So I stopped taking Lexapro in mid-August 2020. I informed my Dad and a close friend of my decision, both of whom knew of my recent depression history. My Dad, knowing the obstacles I have faced when it comes to doctors and their diagnoses understood why I chose not to wait until I found a doctor, but my close friend was more concerned. While I acknowledge it would have been helpful to see someone within weeks of arriving in Italy, I knew that with the painfully frustrating administrative system in place—especially in regards to healthcare—it would have been a nightmare to wait for a second opinion.

In my battle with depression over the years, I quickly realized that when it came to my body and mind, only I could be the one to decide what felt right for me.

I felt “normal” for about a week, after which painful, throbbing headaches began to make an appearance on a daily basis. I was starting to feel easily triggered by what I would normally see as minor inconveniences. On my early morning runs, I would have to stop mid-run because I would be on the verge of tears…

Things started to feel uneasy at work. I found myself silently hyperventilating at times, and I often had to duck into the bathroom to let myself had a good cry.

I knew fully well I had nothing to be upset about. I stopped taking the medication because things were going well. I wasn’t too concerned about these symptoms arising because I was expecting them as part of the withdrawal process.

Everything would be better in a few weeks…

But it seemed as though things were slowly retreating and heading in the opposite direction. The throbbing headaches did stop after three weeks. I wasn’t crying uncontrollably everyday either, but my mood was no longer at the same elevated level that it has been in mid-summer.

And perhaps it was because my environment, the one I thought I had control over, was starting to become more overwhelming than I ever imagined it would be.

Having the patience to learn and speak Italian was becoming a stressful chore.

Work was becoming something I was slowly starting to dislike. I resented the idea that my position wasn’t as flexible as I thought it would have been. I felt like my skills weren’t being appreciated. And having these feelings woven through a five-day work week was an feeling that grew unbearable by the minute.

As fall turned into winter, I thought time would make things better, but with the rise of COVID infections, we were back in a lockdown in late October. I was resenting the fact that I had yet to travel outside of Milan or Como, and I was counting on the winter holidays to make my Rome trip a reality.

But that of course didn’t happen.

At least I wasn’t alone during the holidays, but my anxious thoughts and depression still would not leave me, even though I knew I had a full week off from work to take in the last of 2020 (although, what was really there to take in?).

I kept thinking about how I was “wasting” my time off because I wasn’t able to travel. Or ruminating over what experiments I should be planning my first week back at work, even though that was the last thing I wanted my thoughts to dwell on…

Castel Baradello hike the day after Christmas. It was a beautiful sight, but my mind was gripped with anxiety about my week off ending soon…

And with the arrival of 2021, things still seemed to not “feel” any better. Yes, I was finally able to move into apartment that wasn’t the size of a claustrophobic closet, and with a balcony (something that was a top priority), but I still felt unsettled 😔

I thought I would appreciate a long, cold winter after months of painful humidity and encapsulated heat, but I guess I didn’t know what I was asking for when it came to an Italian winter. The weather became piercingly cold, and the sky always seemed to match my mood—gray, dreary, tired, depressing…

I tried to keep my mind away from the gray by appreciating things I knew would bring me joy.

Like, (finally) buying a Nespresso machine so I could have coffee on my terms.

Or stopping for adorable cats that ‘meow’ back and don’t mind being coddled.

And even trying to shift back to daylight runs vs. the nighttime runs I had a habit of partaking in during the summer. Because every ounce of sunlight helps.

Work continued to aggravate me. I still felt like I was doing tasks that weren’t adding to my skill set, and that what I was doing had no relation to what I thought I had signed up for.

Looking back, I find it ironic that in the phone calls I had with my Dad during this time, I’d semi-joke about having a breakdown at work given all the emotional turmoil that had been building up for the past several months.

And, then it happened right on cue 🙃. Before I broke down into a solid cry that drenched even my blue disposable mask, I was having a meeting with my boss, during which she expressed her disappointment with how things were going (I would later learn that she had been described by others to push people to their breaking point in an effort to get the most work out of them). I didn’t have the energy to explain my situation, so I let my emotions do the talking.

She seemed to understand immediately, and offered help where she could. At least that situation got me into a doctor’s office for the first time in Italy 🙄. I knew counseling had helped me in the past, but this time, I already knew what my trigger was.

A stressful, overwhelming environment.

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Since my breakdown as a junior in high school, I have accepted that depression will always be a condition in my life, and that it may need managing from time-to-time.

When I felt out of control with where I would be going to college and troubles at home with mom, diving into an eating disorder was my solution.

When I felt deep anxiety about the fate of my PhD, and the paper I was anxiously trying to publish for a timely graduation, Dr. S and my willingness to try medication for the first time was my solution.

And I thought Italy would be a long-term solution. Especially for the irritability and ennui that popped up in recent years, but it turned out that Italy was an issue of her own.

COVID has been an obvious key player in this, and it’s hard to say how things would have turned out if I had arrived in Italy back in early 2020 as originally planned, and if the world had not been shaken by COVID.

But ongoing events have made me realize that the biggest trigger of my current depression “flare” is directly associated with the very reason I came to Italy in the first place. And how do you manage and cope when the very thing that is your livelihood causes so much distress?

Recently, I’ve been fortunate to have possibilities open up. Knowing that there may be a way out has put my mind at ease, but at the same time, there’s no guarantee that the solution to cutting myself off from the triggers here will help me somewhere out there.

That’s why I’m trying my best—with whatever ounce of energy I do have—to take things day by day. Making sure to sip my coffee, savor a relaxing dinner at home, and pet that furry cutie before each run…

When it comes to using medication to manage my mental health, I personally do not want to get near it ever again. I’m sure it works wonders for some, but that doesn’t mean it works favorably for everyone.

Managing my depression has led me to prioritize my happiness no matter what. I acknowledge that what I may constitute as happiness right now in life could change over time, but even so, I believe that if we make it a priority to live in ways that ensure balanced levels of happiness, we can encourage the same from those we interact with on a daily basis.

An infinite loop of happiness, wouldn’t that be nice?

Looking down on Como from Castel Baradello, two months after Christmas ❤

Reading Time: 3 minutes

I’m pleased to present a guest post by Joseph F. Kolapudi, a fellow second gen desi based in Australia! When Joseph reached out to me eager to share his thoughts on how connection in our community is essential—especially during challenging times like a global pandemic—I couldn’t refuse. I’m thrilled to feature Joseph’s piece here on Second Gen Desi—it’s definitely worth a read!

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Community. It’s what brings us together in the toughest of times. During natural disasters, world wars, political unrest – it can be the anchor we look for when we are overwhelmed in a sea of anarchy. However, what happens when the one thing we take for granted is distanced from us?

During these days of what can be described as some of the most uncertain circumstances, our current situation in which we find ourselves seems to be a reality that is too hard to understand. But challenging times seem to be the only constant of our present age.

Conversations, especially ones that cross borders, cultures, and caveats to enter into the homes and living rooms of our existences, especially for second generation desis, can be some of the most engaging and most honest conduits of truth that we cling to in these tough times.

I recently connected with a fellow second-generation desi who had been struggling due to COVID-19. Despite our differences in time zones, country borders and situations, I understood the importance that our shared connection had in making them feel valued and appreciated. Although our connection was limited by these factors, we still had commonalities that we could express and seek to understand together. Fast forward to the present day, and she managed to move to the same city, and I was able to connect her to a wider community in which she has now found greater solace and similarities.

These are the conversations that we have a hard time engaging in, especially in the midst of a global pandemic. Though cultural conversations have been a hallmark of our times, what happens when those conversations turn inward towards introspection?

Personally speaking, it’s something I’ve been doing a lot of lately. About how second generation desis can learn to code-switch without even thinking twice, but wonder why others can’t do so without thinking about it long and hard. How we can know a person’s ability to connect with those like us, but we somehow find it increasingly difficult to decipher where they feel more at home. How some people can look past a person’s background or status, but fail to see the struggle despite the façade of success.

We need to look at how we can take our conversations from small talk to street talk. From a person-to-person experience to a communal reality. From connections in a corner of the community hall, to one that’s a worldwide phenomenon that every desi can resonate with in their own, unique way.

Our world is hurting right now, but there is a hope that what lies beyond tomorrow is worth fighting for. It begins with honest conversation, but it doesn’t stop there. Through our own, personal connection to others, we can see the light that God has placed inside each of us.

We can be the community that comes together for true connection; and it starts with us.

Joseph is a second-generation desi currently living in Australia. He currently works as a Project Director of a nonprofit by day, and a cultural connoisseur of Indian cuisine by night.
He also loves exploring different cultures and countries whenever he is able, and recently returned to India for his wedding. As a writer by profession, he prefers to explain stories
through the written word, and looks forward to connecting with the wider desi diaspora!

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Before the COVID crisis took over, I took the privilege of travel for granted. Looking back, I was lucky to have opportunites to travel both domestically (within the US) and internationally, solo or with family.

Since moving to Italy, I have yet to go beyond Lombardia’s borders. Even within Lombardia, I’ve only really “visited” Milan and Como.

And coming from LA, it didn’t take too long to master these cities 😉

As much as my solo trip to Sweden in the summer of 2019 was indeed lonely, I am still awestruck by the fact that I completed a 10-day trip-for-one, despite the many moments of ennui I experienced.

My trip started in Stockholm, followed by stops in Gothenburg, Malmo, and Copenhagen. Although the latter of the cities is technically in Denmark, it happened to be my most favorite part of the trip.

I documented my Swedish & Copenhagen adventures on a former blog before I decided to close it down for Second Gen Desi. But with COVID still around and with it still influencing our current travel policies, I decided to dig through my archives and find my old travel posts so that I could try to relive the memories.

Since I was unable to copy over the text, we’ll have to settle for these screenshots, and you’ll have to forgive me for the small, poor photo quality 😅.

Still, I’m glad I took the time to type out a recap of my trip, even if it was three months after I returned 😅😅.

Hard to believe there was a time of crowds and flurry at the peak of summer. I can only imagine what Italy was like in the summer of 2019, and I wonder if we can ever get back to that type of traveling lifestyle ever again…

As for Sweden, I don’t have much of a desire to return for leisure, but I have heard amazing things about Norway and Finland…but to be honest, I’d be happy just to make it out of Lombardia for my travel plans this year 😉

Reading Time: 8 minutes

It’s been seven months of living in Milan, and I think I’ve had plenty of pasta and pizza to satisfy my authentic Italian cuisine checklist.

What I truly miss are foods that are “sacrilegious” here, like pineapple pizza or bagel breakfast sandwiches made with eggs and cheese.

Not exactly my vegan favorites, but man do I miss the plethora of vegan options that were in Los Angeles...

Back when I ran a food-focused, lifestyle blog (Will Study for Food), I made it a priority to check out restaurants and write full reviews on them. It was something I truly enjoyed, and while I never got to an extreme level of “food influencer”, I was able to connect with local restaurants from time-to-time to participate in tastings, or review products from food companies that got in contact with me.

But I soon grew tired of constantly posting about food. My blog post format was starting to get repetitive because seriously, there’s only so many ways you can be creative when it comes to writing food reviews 🤷🏽‍♀️.

Since starting Second Gen Desi and moving abroad, I have started to miss my food blogging days, but here in Milan, I wasn’t in the mood to take pictures of every caffè or brioche I stumbled upon.

But since coming here, I realized it would be fun to at least try foods from local restaurants that I could group into a “category” for a later blog posts.

I thought that it could perhaps provide some fun during these dreary times, and especially help restaurants survive via the delivery services I started to use on the daily 😅

So with this in mind, I scoured the land for whatever vegan restaurants I could find. One I had the chance to dine-in at, twice, in the summer before everything went COVID-crazy again.

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So if you are vegan in Milan and are struggling with options, or you’re somewhere else in the world and find it unbelievable that the land of formaggio and proscuitto even has vegan options, scroll on down to see what I ended up finding 👇🏽!

1 ) Flower Burger (dine-in, Porta Venezia location)

I knew of Flower Burger even before coming to Italy, when I still participated in the food blogging-charade and stumbled across someone’s IG post featuring a plate of colorful vegan burgers. I remember saving the post under a file where I archived any intriguing restaurants outside of the US—in case I ever happened to travel to a particular country, I was ready with my “where-to-chow-down” list.

It’s amusing that I ended up eventually visiting Flower Burger, twice!

My second visit was in early September, on a weekday evening after work. I came prepared to order in Italian and not use my Bank of America credit card (not that using that particular card was a bad thing, but it was a dead-giveaway to the cashier that I was not an Italian native and a give-away that I was not a native Italian speaker…)

In this visit, I was successful in ordering an Ocean Burger—their special edition burger outfitted in a bright teal bun, sandwiching some good fixin’s including lettuce, tomatoes, guacamole, a thick quinoa patty, and a mayo-type sauce called “beach sauce”.

The burger came paired with patate savory (potato wedges), but I didn’t think to ask for an extra order of sauce.

This is something I’ve realized about Italians—they skimp when it comes to saucing their carbs!

Besides the “dry” potato situation, Flower Burger’s burgers were, in my mind, the go-to for vegan burgers in all of Milano.

That is, until lockdowns happened again in late October, and I discovered a new guy in town…

2) Black Out Burgers by Avo Brothers

I was scrolling through Deliveroo, an app that has gotten me through Italy’s oscillating restrictions, in early November when I first spotted BOB.

Unlike Flower Burger, they didn’t seem to have a brick-and-mortar store nor was their entire menu vegan-friendly. What made some of their selections vegan-friendly was using Beyond Burger in their “normal” dishes, but it was something else that made my eyes pop:

Britney’s No Chicken Burger

I was able to save a *bit* of money by making it a meal, getting some sweet potato fries on the side, TWO sauce cups, and a can of ice cold acqua frizzante.

The bag it came in helped me figure out why my burger was Britney’s (like, Britney Spears?)

Wowwww, oh wow—this meal was demanding to compete with what Flower Burger had to offer. The fries were incredibly sweet and earthy, and I made a wise choice by getting BBQ sauce and paprika mayo on the side for dipping. I was also able to request plant-based cheddar for the burger, the patty of which was incredibly crispy.

Anyone who says they can’t stand veggie/vegan burgers because they taste awful, and that they prefer the “real thing”, needs to try this. And be proved wrong.

From that point on, I ordered least one meal from BOB each week, usually on Monday nights since it served as a good pick-me-up for having to start a new work week.

I even raved about BOB on a vegan and vegetarian’s group chat I’m a part of with other expat women in the city 😂:

I gave BOB excellent reviews for quite a while after my first order, but when they made an egregious error regarding the last order I placed with them, that tampered with my trust.

Due to an order mix-up, I opened my bag to find a lovely beefy burger, and I decided to call it quits. Thankfully I caught it, but I was put-off from their lack of integrity and awareness for the customer.

I guess it was good while it lasted.

3) Avo Brothers

During my BOB obsession, I did take a break and order from the OG Avo Brothers.

Their menu had refreshing options like salads, bowls, and (vegan) desserts!

I opted for the Lolita Bowl, which wasn’t exactly vegan due to the halloumi cheese (which could always be taken out), but I went for it as is, keeping it vegetarian with the cheese.

I can see why it’s one of their most popular bowls (it says so on Deliveroo). It’s packed with spinach, avocado, purple cabbage, tomatoes, squash, beet hummus, and sunflower seeds 🤩

As far as the guilt-free brownie though….if I had known it would be so soft, chewy, and flavorful, I would have ordered at least….three? 🤣

4) Soulgreen

Soulgreen seems to be well-known by vegan expats here (at least based on the one chat group I’m in…), but from all of the times I’ve ordered from here, I haven’t been able to get away from the Falafel Wrap.

It’s an unassuming dish, with no fancy fillings, but it’s one of my favorites. Since it comes with potato wedges and ketchup (finally, a place in Milan that understands that some sort of condiment is essential when it comes to potato wedges and the sort 🙌🏽).

I’m used to falafel wraps with thick tahini-based sauces, but I was surprised by how the consistency was much like plain yogurt (very runny, and too runny for my liking).

I also wasn’t able to confirm if the sauce was dairy-free, so this ingredient might make this particular dish vegetarian rather than vegan.

5) MACHAPOKE

I was surprised to learn that sushi is incredibly popular in Milan, and in line with that, poke.

In LA, I always ended up doing a create-your-own type bowl if I ended up at a poke shop, so I could avoid the fish and get more of the other, better stuff 😉.

I was pleased to see that many of the poke shops on food delivery apps like Deliveroo offer vegetarian or even vegan bowls, and MACHAPOKE’s version is one of my favorites.

Their specific Vegan Poke bowl is so eye-catching—with a quinoa base, vegan burger balls (that actually look like falafel), avocado, broccoli, carrot, chickpeas, sunflower seeds, squash, and flaxseeds.

They threw in some chopsticks, soy sauce, and ginger, even though the bowl didn’t need it 😂. It was a struggle trying to get the last bits of quinoa with chopsticks, let me tell ya…

They also offer a vegan cheesecake, but since 75% of it is bland, it’s not worth a re-order. I didn’t expect the matcha layer to be too sweet, but I was hoping the middle layer would have been better in the sweet department (far from it). The bottom graham crust layer was the only part that was decent. Wish there had been more of that and not just like, 25%…

6) Cibo Vegan Food

Ah, Cibo Vegan Food—probably the most bland vegan outlet in all of Milan, and one of the priciest.

Due to a technical error on one weeknight, Deliveroo offered those who tried to place an order that evening a 5 euros off promo code to “make things right again”.

With that in hand, I could “splurge” a little and see if Cibo was worthy any hype.

Their menu was headache-inducing due to the Italian I had to comprehend after a long work day, but I ended up getting their vegan paella, a “cake” slice with pears and ginger, and “arancino di cereali misti”.

When my food arrived, I could tell not much work went into the packaging. I think the assumption that vegan places tend to be environmentally-friendly is an assumption gone awry…

Everything was double-wrapped in plastic

The vegan paella was nothing special—just flavored rice with bite-size pieces of tofu and tempeh mixed in.

The “arancino” reminded me of a bland falafel—not even the “soy” sauce (basically hummus) could help it out of the flavorless black hole!

Oh, and the excuse-for-a-dessert that was the pere e zenzero cake slice. It could have been sweeter is an understatement…it needed to be dipped into a pool of sugar 😂

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Just like it’s possible to live in Los Angeles without a car, it’s possible to eat vegan in Milan, if that’s what you truly want! LA has far more options, but for a city in a traditional country with (ridiculous) food rules, the options that are available in Milan are decent.

Perhaps when these lockdowns ease down 🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽 I’ll be more motivated to see what else I can find…

Reading Time: 6 minutes

Running has been a serious part of my life for about nine years—it has evolved from checking off races and writing recaps, to focusing on my training and trying to adopt the stance of an athlete. It’s hard to believe that the last race I ran took place almost two years ago, but that was a break I absolutely needed.

As I write up this reflection, I’m seeing how much of an impact running has had on my physical and mental health in the last decade. There’s so much more I want to accomplish in this sport, and I can only hope that my “break” from training has refreshed my motivation reserves to pursue race goals this year and in the near future…

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I hated running as a kid, but I surprisingly did cross-country for one year in middle school, in an effort to list it as an extra-curricular activity for college apps. Turns out colleges don’t care what you did before high school…so they never knew about how much I despised being the only brown girl on the “team” and the second-slowest one at that!

I was relieved to kick running aside once I got to high school, choosing to focus on tennis instead. My Dad was also thrilled about this, and we spent many off-season afternoons practicing at community park courts.

I was good for a high school kid, but not good enough to make it to the collegiate level, so I was “sport-less” once again in college. Running as a sport came across my mind again after stumbling upon blog posts by bloggers who detailed their racing adventures in “race recaps”. I was so inspired by one particular blogger’s running journey, that I signed up for my first race in 2012, at a local Turkey Trot.

My average pace was around 10:00/mi at the time—nothing special, but timing wasn’t my goal. I was excited to run all the local races I could, and post my own race recaps!

I was still struggling with an eating disorder when I picked up running during this time. The fact that I was running and exerting energy through a physical sport was somewhat convincing for my brain, “allowing” me to consume more on days I ran, but counting calories was still an obsession…

When I moved to Los Angeles for graduate school, I stumbled upon a marathon training team. Prior to that, I never thought I would train for a marathon, but something about combining running with camaraderie and setting new distance goals seemed highly appealing at the time.

Before I knew it, I crossed the finish of my first marathon in March 2015.

But given the state my body was in, I had to make a critical decision: choose recovery so that running would be a sustainable activity for life, or continue on a path of restriction and running until my body crumbed from overexertion and inadequate fuel.

This was a few months after my first marathon, running at a local half in hot SoCal summer heat. I was still underweight and suffering from things like bladder incontinence on long runs. Not good…

I chose the former, and while I battled negative body image thoughts for another year after getting myself to a healthy weight, at least I was now at a point where I could get in shape to compete healthily.

So in the training cycle for my third marathon in LA, I was finally seeing progress. I was running workouts with my teammates at paces ranging from 7:30-8:24/mi on “fast” days, and my endurance was the best it had ever been.

It got me a PR of 3:57:53, in March 2017.

I was thrilled with the time, but not with having to peel off my socks over angry-red blisters and black toenails!

After this marathon, things continued to feel right with running. I had a marathon in San Diego booked for two months later, and I had fun piggy-backing off of my LA marathon training, and finding and working with a coach. The race time I got in San Diego was comparable to LA, and it only pushed me to want more out of my training—to really push the envelope on my pacing and time goals.

But things started to sour in late 2017. I had agreed with my coach to switch to forefoot running (to get away from heel striking) in an effort to make my running more energy-efficient. This took me about six months to get used to, and shook me up during my fall marathon training cycle.

My times were getting “slow” again. What was this coach doing?

I ran my third marathon for the year—fifth one total—in November 2017: the Route 66 Marathon in Tulsa. The race itself was an awful experience due to the piercing cold weather and my own issues with bowel movements and breathing. After the race, I suffered with a bout of shin splints, and I figured it was time for a clear break from training.

Unfortunately, these issues didn’t disappear in 2018. I was plagued with breathing issues, bowel problems, fatigue coinciding with PMS, and chest tightness. This was also paired with mental fatigue, since I had pent up frustration from not being able to meet my next-level goals.

At one point in the year, I ran a race in Orange County and completely lacked the enthusiasm I normally had for races. I didn’t take out my phone to take pictures, and I felt irritable throughout my time on the course. I eventually walked some of the race—something I never did for distances less than 26.2 miles—and called it quits early.

So I thought 2019 would be a fresh start, but running LA that year proved to be nothing special. I then made the more serious decision not to participate in anymore races until I was ready to compete with a pace (and mind) I was happy with.

Then, 2020 happened, and it was as if taking a break from races was pre-planned for me by the universe!

It wasn’t until later in the year—after settling in Italy—that I started to think about having a new approach to training. My ultimate goal was—and still is—to get faster. To eventually be able to compete at the elite level. The past few years have been a challenge in regards to staying in line with this goal, but I didn’t want to lose hope.

Back in September 2020, I wanted to start training again, smartly.

These were humbling realizations, but having them when I did was probably pre-mature, looking back. I was struggling with handling work demands—and adapting to a new life in general—with my energy levels, so many of the weeks in late 2020 were much like before. I ran when I could, but just to keep with a routine. I still lacked the energy required to hit the time goals I desired.

An early morning run in Milano when I just felt out of breath and paralyzed with anxiety and stress from work…

At least when I did venture out to run, I tried to appreciate my surroundings and take in the nice, peaceful moments of nature when they happened…

I’ve also been incredibly lucky to spend so much time in Como… it’s the perfect backdrop for weekend runs near the fresh mountain air…

And at least now, I can say I’ve run in the snow 😅? Not the best setting for marathon training, but a fun way to ring in the new year…

…so was running 40 miles for the last week of 2020, my highest weekly mileage of 2020 since the summer.

————————————————– 𝕊𝔾𝔻 ————————————————-

It’s hard to predict how racing will look after the mess that was 2020, but I hope I can finally get back to a “training 2.0” of sorts.

I have my eyes on some marathons that are tentatively scheduled in late April/May here in Italy, but since anything can happen, I’m also ready to figuratively run in place… my goal is to be ready for whatever comes.

Day by Day

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Running Reflections