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Choosing to Run: A Memoir
Featuring both the story of an historic, unforgettable win and insight into the life of an indelible champion, Choosing to Run is a truly inspirational memoir from Boston Marathon winner and Olympian Des Linden, sharing her personal story and what motivates her to keep showing up.
When Des woke up on April 16, 2018, the morning of the Boston Marathon, it was 39 degrees and raining, with high, gusty winds. The weather didn't bother her. In fact, she thought it might be a blessing. She was far from peak form-recovering from illness and questioning her running future-and didn't expect much of herself that day.
But as she ticked off mile after mile in the brutal conditions, passing familiar landmarks on the course she knew by heart, something shifted. Opportunity unexpectedly presented itself. Des tapped into her inner strength and remembered all of the reasons she loved to race.
Coming off Heartbreak Hill at Mile 22, Des took the lead and never relinquished it, becoming the 2018 Boston Marathon champion and the first American woman to win the race in thirty-three years.
Her career has always been defined by tenacity and an independent spirit, stretching back to her first competitive race in San Diego, when she beat better-outfitted, more experienced kids. Des was a two-time All-American at Arizona State University, and as her collegiate years wound down, she decided she wasn't done with the sport. Des gambled on herself and moved to Michigan to give professional running a try. As she rose through the elite ranks, she became increasingly determined to do things her way in an industry often bound by the status quo.
In her first book, readers will learn the story behind that resolve: the way Des trains, the way she thinks, her relationships with other great runners of her generation, and how much she values her family and friends. They'll read about her deep connection to the most famous marathon in the world, her two very different Olympic experiences, and how she defined new goals and set a world record at the 50-kilometer distance.
Most of all, they'll learn what makes her get up and run every day.
When Des woke up on April 16, 2018, the morning of the Boston Marathon, it was 39 degrees and raining, with high, gusty winds. The weather didn't bother her. In fact, she thought it might be a blessing. She was far from peak form-recovering from illness and questioning her running future-and didn't expect much of herself that day.
But as she ticked off mile after mile in the brutal conditions, passing familiar landmarks on the course she knew by heart, something shifted. Opportunity unexpectedly presented itself. Des tapped into her inner strength and remembered all of the reasons she loved to race.
Coming off Heartbreak Hill at Mile 22, Des took the lead and never relinquished it, becoming the 2018 Boston Marathon champion and the first American woman to win the race in thirty-three years.
Her career has always been defined by tenacity and an independent spirit, stretching back to her first competitive race in San Diego, when she beat better-outfitted, more experienced kids. Des was a two-time All-American at Arizona State University, and as her collegiate years wound down, she decided she wasn't done with the sport. Des gambled on herself and moved to Michigan to give professional running a try. As she rose through the elite ranks, she became increasingly determined to do things her way in an industry often bound by the status quo.
In her first book, readers will learn the story behind that resolve: the way Des trains, the way she thinks, her relationships with other great runners of her generation, and how much she values her family and friends. They'll read about her deep connection to the most famous marathon in the world, her two very different Olympic experiences, and how she defined new goals and set a world record at the 50-kilometer distance.
Most of all, they'll learn what makes her get up and run every day.
Editorial Reviews
"Revealing…Athletes of all ranks will find Linden's memoir heartwarming and inspiring." -Kirkus
"[Linden] provides a fascinating look at the training and culture of professional running…For seasoned runners and beginners alike, Linden's book offers plenty of inspiration about the power of endurance in the face of obstacles. For all readers, it grants a peek at what goes into building that endurance." -Associated Press
"An inspiring memoir about navigating life choices both in youth and as an elite athlete." -Booklist
"There are a lot of books by runners. Many of them are good. Few of them are as human as Choosing to Run. Because Linden knows herself as a human in essence and only contingently as a runner, she writes not for other runners only but for any reader who suspects they might be human, too. It is examples like these that make us so." -Sport Literate
"Exceptional and inspiring"-Trail Runner
"Writing with honesty and energy, Linden shares the life experiences that shaped her determination to rise to the top of her sport."-Arizona Daily Sun
"[Linden's] career has always been defined by tenacity and an independent spirit, and her debut memoir centers on how she trains, how she thinks, her relationships with other great runners of her generation and how much she values her family and friends." -PureWow
"This is a gripping story of grit and grace. With unusual honesty and rare insight, Des Linden shares her journey, showing us that a true champion is defined not by whether she wins the race but by how she runs it. I loved every page, and the morning I finished, I laced up my sneakers and went out the door inspired to do my best!" -Angela Duckworth, New York Times bestselling author of Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
"Des boldly pulls no punches in t...
"[Linden] provides a fascinating look at the training and culture of professional running…For seasoned runners and beginners alike, Linden's book offers plenty of inspiration about the power of endurance in the face of obstacles. For all readers, it grants a peek at what goes into building that endurance." -Associated Press
"An inspiring memoir about navigating life choices both in youth and as an elite athlete." -Booklist
"There are a lot of books by runners. Many of them are good. Few of them are as human as Choosing to Run. Because Linden knows herself as a human in essence and only contingently as a runner, she writes not for other runners only but for any reader who suspects they might be human, too. It is examples like these that make us so." -Sport Literate
"Exceptional and inspiring"-Trail Runner
"Writing with honesty and energy, Linden shares the life experiences that shaped her determination to rise to the top of her sport."-Arizona Daily Sun
"[Linden's] career has always been defined by tenacity and an independent spirit, and her debut memoir centers on how she trains, how she thinks, her relationships with other great runners of her generation and how much she values her family and friends." -PureWow
"This is a gripping story of grit and grace. With unusual honesty and rare insight, Des Linden shares her journey, showing us that a true champion is defined not by whether she wins the race but by how she runs it. I loved every page, and the morning I finished, I laced up my sneakers and went out the door inspired to do my best!" -Angela Duckworth, New York Times bestselling author of Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
"Des boldly pulls no punches in t...
Readers Top Reviews
M. GriffithCheryl
Awesome story of putting in the work and keep showing up! Really enjoyed reading this one. Inspiring! Highly recommended reading.
Sara BriggsM. Gri
Couldn’t put this one down! So great to learn more about all that Des Linden has gone through - I had no idea. Can’t wait to see her try out Boston again this year.
Megan RusekSara B
The line that stands out the most for me, maybe because it's said twice, maybe because it applies to so much: You don't get what you deserve; you get what you negotiate. Des tells her story of her start in running, her upbringing, her training, her relationships (personal and professional), and her continuing running career. I've always really taken a liking to Des. I was fortunate enough to see her as part of a panel in 2019 or so. She's very relatable, normal, and witty. This confirmed, even more, how much I admire her for many reasons.
Tony LoydMegan Ru
Des knows what her audience wants to read - her 2018 win at the Boston Marathon. So she builds that story, chapter by chapter as she reveals the full back story. It is a remarkable story of a determined underdog, filled with quotable wisdom from front to back. This is a remarkable story, well-told. Congratulations Des (and Bonnie).
OpalVictoria32Ton
Des speaks with honesty and candor in a way that most people cannot achieve, memoir style. I really liked the layout of this book and it felt like reading two stories in one. Des is not a flashy, in your face runner but instead shines in the most authentic way out there and her book was reflective of that. If I read this book while in high school I do believe I would have dug a little bit deeper in my races!
Short Excerpt Teaser
PROLOGUE
I'm alone, out front.
I've just dropped the only woman between me and the 2018 Boston Marathon finish line. I brace for her to respond, to reappear in my peripheral vision.
I hold my breath- ot an advisable tactic at Mile 22-and I count.
One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five.
Nothing. Still by myself.
I exhale, releasing months of tension. Young Kenyan runner Gladys Chesir has been aggressive for most of this race. If I can't hear her footfalls on my heels by now, that means she's vulnerable. It's time to ratchet up the pace and inflict pain.
I've visualized this scene, taking the lead coming off Heartbreak Hill, thousands of times over the last decade. I've pictured myself strong, confident, and pulling away under a brilliant blue April sky to win one of the most prestigious marathons in the world.
This moment looks nothing like that.
Rain is sluicing down in sheets, relentless. A fierce headwind batters my face, my chest, my quads. My hands are numb, and my feet are beyond sodden. There's only a scattering of people watching by the side of the road, and if they're cheering, the sound is muted by my drenched headband.
And yet. This is where I've always wanted to be. It's a rare juncture in any career, and there's no guarantee it'll ever happen again. I have to yank myself out of my old sun-splashed dreamscape and be fully present here, now. I need to adapt to the opportunity that has opened up in front of me, on this course I know by heart.
It's been a scant few hours since I stood barefoot in my darkened hotel room, completely devoid of hope, feeling none of the tenacity that had always defined me. I had arrived in Boston without my usual game plan to maximize my chances for a win. My typical meticulous checklist was down to one item: survive.
That all shifted after the start gun, with absolutely no planning on my part. Improvisation has brought me this far. Now it's time to channel the instincts and knowledge I've sharpened and stowed away over twenty years. I've run thousands of miles so I would know what to do in the next four.
I press the Play button in my head and hear the voice of Frank Browne, my high school coach in California, whose combination of drive and irreverence once pulled the best out of me.
"I know you have the ability. One day you're going to be in position and say, ‘Fuck it,' and pull the trigger on one of these races."
I let out another deep, explosive exhale. My mind clears of everything but one thought:
Can I win this thing?
THE OUTSIDER
It was my fault I was finishing up my last mile in the dark. My dad had pestered me all day about getting the run in, and out of spite, I'd procrastinated. The sun was setting by the time he drove me to the Silver Strand, a scenic sandbar that connects the towns of Imperial Beach and Coronado, just south of San Diego. People were packing up and leaving the beach, wiped out from hours of soaking in the sun and playing in the waves, as I started out on the flat north- south road. He followed me on his bike to keep me company.
I was running at a good clip about five miles into an eight-mile run when I realized I hadn't heard the sound of my dad's wheel for at least ten minutes. I knew one of his tires was losing air, and he'd been working hard to keep up with me. I could have stopped and waited for him to fix it; instead, I decided to press harder, to make him hurt, to make him worry about me being out there by myself. I leaned into the pace a little bit more, visualizing how I'd close out a race at the high school state meet. My dad was the chasing pack, and I was laying on the gas, putting them away for good.
I was so deep in my race dream by the time I hit the parking lot where we'd begun that I almost missed it in the pitch-black. Once I slowed down and walked a few strides to catch my breath, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment about putting in the miles. I was glad I hadn't talked myself out of it. My dad had said that would happen the whole time he was pushing me to get out the door, but I would never tell him he was right. I sat on the curb next to his truck in satisfied silence. Fifteen minutes later, I began to hear the telltale squeak and the faint thud of a flat tire.
◆ ◆ ◆
By then, I already had a long, complicated competitive history with my dad, Dennis. Growing up, my older sister, Natalie, and I were required to play sports year- round so that we'd be too busy...
I'm alone, out front.
I've just dropped the only woman between me and the 2018 Boston Marathon finish line. I brace for her to respond, to reappear in my peripheral vision.
I hold my breath- ot an advisable tactic at Mile 22-and I count.
One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five.
Nothing. Still by myself.
I exhale, releasing months of tension. Young Kenyan runner Gladys Chesir has been aggressive for most of this race. If I can't hear her footfalls on my heels by now, that means she's vulnerable. It's time to ratchet up the pace and inflict pain.
I've visualized this scene, taking the lead coming off Heartbreak Hill, thousands of times over the last decade. I've pictured myself strong, confident, and pulling away under a brilliant blue April sky to win one of the most prestigious marathons in the world.
This moment looks nothing like that.
Rain is sluicing down in sheets, relentless. A fierce headwind batters my face, my chest, my quads. My hands are numb, and my feet are beyond sodden. There's only a scattering of people watching by the side of the road, and if they're cheering, the sound is muted by my drenched headband.
And yet. This is where I've always wanted to be. It's a rare juncture in any career, and there's no guarantee it'll ever happen again. I have to yank myself out of my old sun-splashed dreamscape and be fully present here, now. I need to adapt to the opportunity that has opened up in front of me, on this course I know by heart.
It's been a scant few hours since I stood barefoot in my darkened hotel room, completely devoid of hope, feeling none of the tenacity that had always defined me. I had arrived in Boston without my usual game plan to maximize my chances for a win. My typical meticulous checklist was down to one item: survive.
That all shifted after the start gun, with absolutely no planning on my part. Improvisation has brought me this far. Now it's time to channel the instincts and knowledge I've sharpened and stowed away over twenty years. I've run thousands of miles so I would know what to do in the next four.
I press the Play button in my head and hear the voice of Frank Browne, my high school coach in California, whose combination of drive and irreverence once pulled the best out of me.
"I know you have the ability. One day you're going to be in position and say, ‘Fuck it,' and pull the trigger on one of these races."
I let out another deep, explosive exhale. My mind clears of everything but one thought:
Can I win this thing?
THE OUTSIDER
It was my fault I was finishing up my last mile in the dark. My dad had pestered me all day about getting the run in, and out of spite, I'd procrastinated. The sun was setting by the time he drove me to the Silver Strand, a scenic sandbar that connects the towns of Imperial Beach and Coronado, just south of San Diego. People were packing up and leaving the beach, wiped out from hours of soaking in the sun and playing in the waves, as I started out on the flat north- south road. He followed me on his bike to keep me company.
I was running at a good clip about five miles into an eight-mile run when I realized I hadn't heard the sound of my dad's wheel for at least ten minutes. I knew one of his tires was losing air, and he'd been working hard to keep up with me. I could have stopped and waited for him to fix it; instead, I decided to press harder, to make him hurt, to make him worry about me being out there by myself. I leaned into the pace a little bit more, visualizing how I'd close out a race at the high school state meet. My dad was the chasing pack, and I was laying on the gas, putting them away for good.
I was so deep in my race dream by the time I hit the parking lot where we'd begun that I almost missed it in the pitch-black. Once I slowed down and walked a few strides to catch my breath, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment about putting in the miles. I was glad I hadn't talked myself out of it. My dad had said that would happen the whole time he was pushing me to get out the door, but I would never tell him he was right. I sat on the curb next to his truck in satisfied silence. Fifteen minutes later, I began to hear the telltale squeak and the faint thud of a flat tire.
◆ ◆ ◆
By then, I already had a long, complicated competitive history with my dad, Dennis. Growing up, my older sister, Natalie, and I were required to play sports year- round so that we'd be too busy...
