I Am That Girl

Who am I anyway?

“Everyone needs a hobby,” I shrug with a smile. I say this to family members, to people I date, people I work with, people I meet out. You can relate, I’m sure, to that look they give me in return, the way nonrunners look at us. It’s some combination of admiration, confusion and dismissal. There’s an instant barrier. They could never do that. They don’t want to. They don’t understand.

At my “day job” I’m that girl. The one who runs. The girl with the funny tall socks and the race t-shirts and the rain jacket that sports the NYC Marathon logo. “How many miles did you run today?” asks a coworker, who shakes his head and calls me crazy when I give the answer.

You might be surprised how often I get that same look from runners too.

When you work long hours on a film or TV show it’s fun when there’s an extra long (more than 10 hours) turnaround time between when you wrap for the night and when you have to come in the next morning. Like a lot of coworkers, we like to go hit up a bar together. Me, I tend to forego those “team building” evenings; I have to get seven hours of sleep, because it’s probably the only night that week I’ll manage to get that much and still cram a run in before I have to return for my 12-14 hour day on set.

I used to run to work when I could. That was always a hit, showing up sweaty at the catering tent, having coffee and oatmeal with the teamsters and grips in my short shorts before heading to the camera truck to change into work clothes. As I’ve moved up the ladder and have more responsibility it’s rare that I don’t have to schlep 60 pounds of tools and gear with me to and from whatever location we happen to be shooting in.

With most “civilians,” my job is a hit. At a party or event it takes over conversations, often eclipsing nearly every other topic. For the record, it’s not me, it’s them; people are fascinated by what I do and endlessly circle back to it. I try to talk about their jobs, the weather, racing, anything really, but they all want to talk about celebrities. Hnnngghhhhhhhh.

You’d think this would translate to showing up at a running club and instantly having something people would like to talk about. And sometimes they do, but they look at me with that familiar face: the admiration, confusion and dismissal. I’m that girl who works in the movies.

And then I don’t show up for a few weeks, because that’s how my job is. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but when suddenly, often last minute, I’m booked for a week of 14 hour days it steals me away from training plans, family plans, social plans, even from my work here at Salty Running. I can’t make it out to the running club on Monday night because I’m pushing the lens cart to the next set, putting a camera on the dolly, organizing equipment pickups from the rental house, laying marks for the actors or scribbling notes on camera reports while we’re rolling a take.

When the job is over, the next time I show up to the running club, I’m that girl who can only come sometimes. That girl. The one who doesn’t show up a lot. The one who brags about her job and then disappears for weeks.


Operating a camera on set last summer

I was always a weird kid, kind of a loner in spite of being outspoken and a natural performer. I pursued ideas and activities I thought nobody else was doing, and often lost interest if my thing became mainstream. I wanted to be different, to go my own way. But it was lonely out there in the wilderness of my own thing, and much harder for me to find the social acceptance that drives me. As a grownup, things haven’t changed much.

Sometimes I wish I could just have a normal, simple life, with a yard and a house and job security. I wish for a nice husband to dote on, cook for and lose my identity in. I sometimes even wish for my creativity and intelligence to fade away so I could ignore my resultant capability and just settle for someone else’s life. Go to work, come home, go running, dote on theoretical husband, get adequate sleep, repeat. Do not think too much. Do not wish for more.

In fact, that wish for normalcy can be so strong it even propelled me out of New York City to Cleveland, Ohio, where I thought I’d find that elusive happiness. I found a guy I liked and at the first whisper of domestic fantasy I bought in and bought in hard. I wanted to be normal but something had to give and it wasn’t going to be running, Salty or otherwise. Instead of evaluating how I could manage to balance my passions, I got stars in my eyes as soon as I saw an easy route. I sold myself on a change in career, a change in goals, all for a man who did not love me and a life I did not want. I just didn’t want to be that girl anymore. I wanted to be a normal girl.

This last 12 weeks, my marathon training cycle, has been mentally the most difficult time running I’ve ever had. And I thought I knew why: I’ve been messed up ever since my false hope for the guy ended in heartbreak last fall. Anxiety, sleepless nights, the inability to feel passion for anything … I’ve had a really, really shitty six months, so for a long time it seemed obvious why I might be struggling. But last week, a few days away from my 7th marathon I finally saw why my heart and my mind just haven’t been in it. All this time I’d been using a dude who jilted me as a scapegoat for my feelings of disappointment and anger. But he wasn’t the problem. In fact, chasing after a guy who doesn’t share my priorities was just a symptom.

Suddenly I realized that I can’t run my best if I’m not being my best self, and … well … my best self is that girl.

I’ve been chasing down an easier life for almost two years. And now, nearly touching the sun, I finally realized what it would mean, and I don’t want it.


Working hard just to get through the experience Working hard just to get through the experience

When I made the bargains that led me here, I told myself that if I didn’t like it I could just go back, but that’s not exactly true. A life takes time, and in time you can only go forward. It can be tempting to fret over wasted time, but it’s better this way; it forces the time we have spent making mistakes to not be wasted. Last week I wrote, “I don’t want to go back. I want to carry this training season with me, run this stupid fucking marathon I kind of don’t want to run, and move forward to the next chapter of my life.” And so I did.

I could write a technical race report, but I think this is better. You tell me.

Weeks ago, I was registered and training for the New Jersey Marathon, but then I suddenly got booked for work on a movie that I really wanted to work on with great people I really enjoyed working for. And just like always with this work, I had to cancel plans I was really looking forward to. It was really, really painful to put my work ahead of my running. I fretted a lot over it. I put off making the decision as long as I could. I cried a bit and threw a tantrum to myself. But ultimately, even though I am that girl, the one with many passions, only one of my passions pays for my shoes and registration fees.

So instead I signed up for The Flying Pig, which was the next weekend on a much hillier, more difficult course, so I revised my 3:48 goal to somewhere between 3:50 and 3:55. I did my best, but made some mistakes along the way and wound up with setbacks from nausea and GI distress. I finished with a 4:03 on the chip and a 3:55 on my watch.

Oh yeah, and the Pig? It’s in Cincinnati. Where the dude who jilted me lives. I knew there was a good chance I’d see him, and saying I didn’t want to would be a lie, but I think it was more about curiosity than anything. After my realization, I wanted to know if that easier life I bought into still appealed. And did it? Nope. I said goodbye and it felt good, and now he’s gone from my life.

The experience of that day wasn’t easy, but I learned a lot about myself and how running away from who I really am is a distraction that can tank my goals and tank a training season and a marathon in the process. And when it was over I cried, but just because it was the end of that part of my story. I always cry at the end of a good story.


In this next chapter, I want to remember being on the inside of the fishbowl and how trapped I felt in there with those other fish. I want to remember the painful long runs I bombed because my heart wasn’t in them, the speed work where I choked back tears and the sleepless nights trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Last week I wrote, “There’s a part of me that hopes Sunday will be a complete fucking disaster. If it is, that’s just more fuel.” And I was right! I woke up the day after the marathon feeling refreshed and free, and excited to work on a short film. I get to pull focus on this one, to practice my craft and get better at one of my passions.

Practicing our passions, whether it’s running, coding websites, photography, being part of a club or a career you love, these are the things that give and give and give to us. That’s why running is so great and changes so many lives; adding passion lets our minds bloom to greater potential. Life might be a lot easier if we reduce the amount of passions we have, but I think if you’re doing it right, life isn’t supposed to be easy.

I am so thankful I run. Throughout this experience, it has been a headspace where I cannot hide from myself. It has forced me to examine my own motives and take responsibility for my mistakes. It has forced me to accept that living up to my own potential is always going to be difficult. So what if I can only do group runs when I don’t have a movie to work on? So what if I’d rather have a city apartment I barely see instead of a McMansion in the burbs and a desk job? Why should I care if I’m different from the people I work with or socialize with? My passions makes me interesting. They make me that girl.

Running forces me to confront exactly who I am and challenges me to be a better version of myself. Fuck it, who wants to be “normal” anyway?

Has running ever saved you from yourself?

Cinnamon made Salty Running, takes lots of pictures and drinks lots of coffee. By day she's a camera assistant for films and tv in New York, and by night she's on a quest for zen in the 10k. Her writing is a mix of satirical humor, finding wholeness as an average runner, cheering for runners at all paces and more.

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  1. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I love you, Cinnamon. And running is indeed, my therapy. It’s really challenging and scary to look deep inside and see really what will bring you joy and satisfaction in life; no worries about trying something different, maybe it’ll help you not always wonder “What if I had the white picket fence?” I really appreciate your heartfelt tone and honesty. And hey, from one weird girl to another, you’ve got a tribe. They may be far flung, but the beautiful thing about this day and age is we can still connect 🙂

  2. I’m going to be completely honest here. I have a pretty short attention span and I have a hard time reading long posts. But this post had me glued. I can’t say I can relate completely to your situation… I am married, have a home, pregnant… pretty typical, “normal” things, right? I can say, though, that though my job is pretty common, it’s not, at the same time. Some days, I go into work with plans to have an easy night, and it turns out to be the complete opposite, where we are doing CPR on a patient multiple times during the night, which actually makes you really tired (have you ever taken a CPR class? you get really sweaty)… we are running around trying to save a life. It’s pretty wild. I plan on going home afterwards for a run, or to cook a good meal later on, and literally can’t get off the couch because I’m so physically and emotionally wasted. Having a desk job would bore me, I fear. Some days, I wish I had one, of course. But most days, getting 10,000 steps at work and watching death pass over someone, barely missing them, well, that’s kinda cool too. I think it’s awesome that you’re so driven in your job, and your passion for running is amazing too. This post makes me want to get to know you more 🙂

    1. Thanks Turmeric! And YES – the people who can relate most to what I do, I find, are in health care and the service industry. Long hours on your feet, weird schedule that can change on a dime, that hurry-up-and-wait thing.

      It is essential to have a variety interests in our lives; it doesn’t just stimulate the thinking mind, it also stimulates our emotions and keeps us from going crazy (thanks Betty Friedan). Sometimes divergent interests might seem at odds, but we need to feed them anyway. It’s why all the best people are runners, I’m sure of it. 😎

  3. This might be my new favorite salty running post ever. We all have different versions of being true to ourselves and sometimes running can help us figure out how to do that. I used to think I could run my best by *not* being my best self. I mean, look at Frank Shorter! That guy ran great running away from a truly crappy family life. My running has pretty much sucked in the last year. But I’ve been putting some important other pieces together toward being my best self and maybe that will eventually get reflected in my running as well. Thanks for the reminder.

    1. It’s kind of just a different version of Pesto’s post from today, right? Do right by yourself as best you can and the results will follow!

  4. Fantastic post, thank you for sharing it! Got sucked right in — I didn’t even care about the celebrities, was way more into hearing what happened to you so you know it was good!

  5. Own it, girl! On my retreat a couple weeks ago, the meditation leader had a discussion about how we classify ourselves – to avoid getting into a long Buddhist discuss about the self, or lack thereof, I’ll say the important takeaway: Why do classify ourselves as nouns (husband, wife, mother, daughter, runner, celebrity, prince, pauper, etc). What if we classified ourselves as verbs – what we do. First and foremost, we are living, breathing beings. How cool is that? And more importantly, when we say we run, we write, we laugh, we cry, we create – sure, our society probably isn’t there yet, but it takes the focus away from being something we feel we are “supposed” to be and embraces just being. Love ya girl! And great work out there – all that you do!

    1. Love this, Ginger – and Cinnamon, I love your post! Have you ever read the book The Insanity of Normality by Arno Gruen? If you’re ever again wishing to be “normal”, it’ll knock that desire out of you right quick 🙂

    2. I love that! I have serious issues trying to fit myself into boxes, and I’m really trying to work on it. That’s a perfect way to start and to continually remind myself! Thanks, Jinger! xx

  6. “Has running ever saved you from yourself?” In the shortest possible answer, yes. I always enjoy your writing. My ADD typically kicks in with long posts and before I even get to the 3rd sentence….. look a squirrel!

    1. Oh I know! I struggled with the length, but I thought it worked better in long form than if I had broken it up into pieces. Thanks for sticking with it!

    1. Well there’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? 😉

      Right now I’m just considering my options and looking for my next job. I know more people in New York, so work is more likely to come from there, but I’m staying open to other possibilities! I definitely also am planning to continue my work at Salty Running, run races and do all the other stuff I love doing as well. It won’t be easy, but that’s what will make it worthwhile!

  7. I love you so much <3 I waited to read the post until a time when I knew I could read it uninterrupted. It's been a crappy year, but it seems like you have gained so much from that experience. You are coming out on the other side of it an even stronger, more incredible version of yourself. Spirit animal.

  8. I think we are the same person. Thank you for writing what has been in my heart these past few months. Since I moved I was trying to handle it all, but I couldn’t and running was suffering. It was horrible and I am sad I let my passion for the sport take a dive because I was trying to do more than I was capable of. Right now, my job and running are my priorities (once I get back to running because I needed a rest), not falling in love, not attempting to do it all. I am NOT that girl. I have things I like, things I love and I will focus on them rather than the illusion of a whole life. This is my whole life (right now) and it makes me happy.
    I needed to be able to say it (write it) out loud. Thank you for being with me <3

    1. Ellie! You’re so right — our lives are whole just as they are today, as long as we’re engaged. Thank YOU (for reading my long post and) for letting me know I’m not alone. We’re in it together–just gotta put those shoes on and hit the road!

  9. I loved this so much! It was so real and true and so Cinnamon. (And dang, yes, Cincinnati IS hilly, silly girl.) I think all of this is true for so many people, myself included – the struggle of trying to figure out what you want to be or do when you already are the best you. You are such a gifted writer and this made me miss y’all!