It was Dec. 31, and I faced 2025 with the hopeful optimism only a new year can bring — and a body 15 pounds heavier from a steady diet of cookies and eggnog. My resolution? To conquer a full marathon on May 4.

Yes, 42.2 kilometres of running, sweating, and questioning my life choices. I walked a half marathon last October, so how hard could it be?

Let me tell you: that half marathon was not a triumphant stroll. It was me trudging along, with the sweep vehicle so close I could feel the engine’s heat. My motivation wasn’t grit or determination — just sheer terror at being scooped up like a stray shopping cart.

Still, I finished all 21.1 kilometres, red-faced and sweaty, but I learned something important: progress isn’t always pretty. Sometimes, it’s just refusing to stop, even when every part of you wants to quit.

At 60, I know better than to dive headfirst into over-the-top plans. I’ve done it before — “I’ll run five kilometres every day!” — and burned out before mid-January. This time, I’m leaning into the “One Percent Rule.” It’s simple: get a little better every day — one extra block, one more minute, one less excuse.

My first training run was on Jan. 1. I laced up my sneakers, stepped into the crisp morning air, and hit the pavement with a killer playlist. Two minutes in, I was wheezing like a bagpipe with a leak. My legs felt like lead, my lungs were on fire, and every step felt like hauling a backpack full of fruitcakes.

A runner twice my age zipped past me on a hill, moving effortlessly. For a second, I wanted to shout, “I’m new at this!” But I reminded myself it’s not about sprinting or impressing anyone. It’s about showing up and moving forward, however awkward. That day, I managed a half kilometre.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a start.

My training isn’t just about running. Slow and steady is my motto, and my race is my pace. I’ve mixed in spinning, swimming, boxing, and even cross-country skiing. There’s something meditative about gliding through snowy trails, until I trip over my poles. But even in those clumsy moments, I find joy in the process. Progress isn’t perfect, but it’s still progress.

As May 4 looms — a day loved by Star Wars fans — I’m taking inspiration from the Jedi. The Force? Definitely. Jedi patience? Absolutely. Jedi agility? Let’s not get carried away. But one thing I won’t compromise on is persistence. Whether I run like a Jedi or shuffle like an Ewok, I know persistence will get me to the finish line.

This marathon isn’t just about the 42.2 kilometres. It’s about proving I can commit to something challenging, messy, awkward, or slow. Every step reminds me I’m stronger than I think.

If you’re putting off a goal, take this as your sign to start small. Pick something meaningful, take the first step, and stick with it, even if it feels clumsy at first. You might surprise yourself with what you can achieve.

Here’s to a year of tiny triumphs, sweaty kilometres, and lessons learned. If I can go from escaping the sweep vehicle to preparing for a marathon at 60, anyone can chase their goals—even if The Force isn’t always with us.

Submitted by Amy Tucker. She is a University Instructor at Thompson Rivers University and proudly calls herself an “accidental athlete.” As a senior swimmer and long-distance open-water enthusiast, she has represented Team Canada on the Age-Group Triathlon Team for the past three years. Amy is passionate about encouraging others to embrace fitness and wellness at any stage of life, proving it’s never too late to chase new challenges.