Having recently moved from Los Angeles to Chapel Hill, I found it strange that thoughts of becoming a runner began to seep into my conscious.

If I didn't put on all the Lycra and hit the streets running when I lived in health-conscious California, what made me think I could pick up the gauntlet here in North Carolina? But then it came at me with enough force that I could not rationalize it away.

Enough.

It is that thought which has the power to move psychological mountains and reveal the sun which leads to inspiration. You just reach a point where you look at yourself in the mirror and say, "If not now, when? Enough."

That first day I walked into the Fleet Feet running store in Carrboro, I was more than a little apprehensive, but determined. It was time for change.

The first thing that hit me was this is more than a running-supplies retail outlet.

There is a sense of common expectation within these walls. There are like-minded people gathering to discuss running purpose, running progress, running philosophy.

Yes, this is a running store, but it is more than that. It is a runners' hub. It is a community within our community.

They come from all manner of backgrounds, diverse in their needs and goals and direction. They are men and women. They are the blue-collar working class and the white-collar affluent.

Some hope to prevent a health catastrophe down the road. Some are survivors of cancer, diabetes, heart disease or other devastating illnesses. They are black, white, Hispanic, Asian and others across the race and ethnic spectrum. They are Christian, Jew, Muslim, atheist and all manner of faiths.

They are NOTHING like me. They are JUST like me. They are runners ... and I could be one of them.

In the beginning, I stood there in my shorts and running apparel along with the others starting the No Boundaries ("NoBo") training program thinking, "Oh my God. I don't know if I can run."

I didn't mean a mile or two. I meant the distance to the store's bathroom and back.

But as I looked out at the group of novices, the training mentors introduced me to a concept which has never left me: The running experience is all about how you "make it your own."

Some people are accomplished runners in great physical condition looking for running companions at their same level. Some are at an intermediate level for speed and distance. Some, such as I was at the time, are novice with no experience and certainly not capable of completing a 5K race.

But as you run over time, you're sharing experiences ... not just common running experiences, but life experiences: their business is going under; the kids' schedule is running them ragged; their father is dying.

Together, you stare down your limitations: your injuries; your aches and pains; your mind's attempts to convince you that you can't go on.

Soon, it's not about how people see you or their opinion of you. It's about how you see yourself.

It doesn't matter that you have no makeup on and your hair isn't done, that you're dripping with sweat and smelling bad; you're doing it.You're yourself, not someone's vision of what you should be. You're a runner. Your confidence grows with each new step you never reached before. It sparks the competitive spirit within.

How much farther can I go?

How much faster?

I am a runner.

Finally, race day arrives. This is when the Chapel Hill-Carrboro community really shines.

The mentors and others in your running group gather along the route to shout encouragement, to show they believe in you, to rally you forward. They are at the finish line to hug you and say well done. Many along the run are there with water and applause and chants of "You can do it! Don't give up!"

They are anonymous faces, yet offer the encouragement you need at the moment you need it. How often in life do you get to have your own cheering section?

Then, there is the family. In my case, the night-owl husband who drags himself out of bed to make sure that, at a crucial turn, I see him standing there lending support. There is the son who'd rather be shooting hoops but is instead at roadside cheering me on to make sure his mom knows he's there for her. There is the sister who came up from Florida to run with me and express how much she believes in what I am doing. There is the brother, himself a cancer survivor, who knows how important the support of family is when you need it. In many ways, my achievement is as much theirs as my own.

So if you're one of those people saying to yourself, "Me? A runner?" the answer is yes.

If I can do it, you can do it. Everyone can be an athlete. I'm not saying you have to run the Boston Marathon. All you have to do is move to the next level, push yourself one step beyond the farthest you thought you could go. Whatever your limitations or struggles, it is the "push" that eventually changes you.

Feeling like you can't because you're too old, too fat, too busy?

Do it anyway.

You quickly find that working up a sweat and saying "I did it!" ... whether that's one mile or 26 miles ... generates a sense of accomplishment that has the potential to knock down self-inflicted limitations that have been holding you back your whole life. You'll find this new ability to work beyond the point where you feel like quitting is what now defines you.

It changes you. It changes everything.