In high school, I was awkward and gangly and did theater. But also, I was fast. The harder I worked, the faster I ran, and that speed empowered me to trust in my abilities and, my wildest dreams. Everything changed when I became a scholarship runner in a toxic and abusive collegiate program. By graduation, my femur had cracked multiple times from overtraining, and instead of confidence, I carried a deeply embedded fear of failure. In the years after college, my life looked successful. I graduated from an elite law school, worked at a Wall Street firm, wore Jimmy Choos, and ran marathons. But the truth was, I was playing it safe, chasing things that mattered little to me and burying the imaginative girl who wrote, directed, and starred in plays, the teenager alighted by the sound of her feet on dirt, and the woman who was deeply unhappy. Despite…