The candid, inspiring story of a woman’s experience with a chronic, unpredictable neurological condition When twenty-nine-year-old reporter Stacia Kalinoski regained consciousness on a couch at the  TV station where she worked, she assumed that she’d had another seizure. But the electrical storm that had just torn through her brain was more destructive than she could have imagined, and the broadcast journalism career she loved swiftly came to an end. Forced to confront the reality of her medical condition, Kalinoski made the risky decision to undergo brain surgery, targeting the epilepsy that was ravaging her life. In Racing Uphill, Kalinoski describes the seizures that occurred while she was running, which led to her pursuit of an uncertain cure. Rallying the grit she developed as an athlete and engaging the research and reporting skills she acquired as a journalist, she gives us a rare inside look at the ways epilepsy can change a life. Moving beyond her own personal experience, Kalinoski interviews prominent epileptologists to understand how seizures can spread, steal memories, and create strange behaviors and mood disorders. She seamlessly joins what she learned from her research with her own story, offering valuable insight into the experience of grappling with a relentless neurological disease. The vivid auras that preceded seizures and the damage that followed; the toll of her epilepsy on her family and loved ones; the extraordinary determination her reckoning required—these are all part of Kalinoski’s story of adversity, denial, acceptance, and resilience. In sharing the remarkable opportunity that epilepsy presented for her courage and growth, Stacia Kalinoski speaks to anyone facing an uphill battle and offers inspiration for taking control of one’s own health. "Stacia Kalinoski has been an inspiration in my life and my son’s life, giving hope to those with epilepsy through her resolve and willingness to stand up for herself and others with seizure disorders. Her memoir further highlights her amazing fighting spirit. Within these pages, she offers encouragement to millions of Americans who are struggling―emphasizing that they, too, can overcome."―Wayne Drash, Emmy Award–winning journalist and author "Stacia Kalinoski’s courage in sharing her personal journey with epilepsy is truly inspiring. Epilepsy is one of the most common neurological disorders, yet as a society, we still have much to learn about understanding and supporting those who live with it. Through her powerful storytelling, Kalinoski not only raises vital public awareness but also offers hope and encouragement to others navigating life with seizures."―Jenna Carter, executive director, Epilepsy Foundation of Minnesota "I respect Stacia Kalinoski so much for what she has done for epilepsy. She continues to work hard and help people."―Jerry Kill, Jerry Kill, Division I football coach "This is a compelling memoir ― an inside view of what it’s like to live with a widely misunderstood neurological condition."― MinnPost "An eye-opening look into a neurological condition that affects 55,000 Minnesotans."― Pioneer Press Stacia Kalinoski is an Emmy Award–winning TV news journalist whose documentary Brainstorm premiered on Twin Cities PBS and was nominated for a regional Emmy Award. Before a seizure ended her broadcast journalism career, she reported for television stations in Nebraska, Oregon, and Michigan. She now shares her story as a motivational speaker. Prologue The earthy scent of soil and fresh rain filled my lungs as I powered on my watch, jogged up a short hill in my quiet Eugene neighborhood, and ran the mile-long stretch to jump onto the Amazon Trail. The name was fitting—rain kept the bark chips densely packed and the trees a bright, almost neon green this time of year, making spring perfect for marathon training in Oregon. The 2011 Eugene Marathon was in May—just one month away—and I was in the best shape of my life, chasing a 2:50 marathon. A year earlier I had reached my goal of breaking 3:00 in Seattle, so now the plan was to chip away and eventually hit 2:43, the qualifying marker for the Olympic trials. I was nowhere near the caliber of Olympic athletes, but I’d have the chance to race with the best women in America if I progressed slowly and didn’t get injured. For me, it was all about the chase, to find out how fast I could really run. A soft mist started to fall as I finished my warm-up and geared up for my first 800-meter interval. Wiping the fog from my watch, I took a deep breath, hit the start button, and took off, my shoes kicking up mulch. The first interval felt good. I wish I could say the same about the next, but as my feet pounded the trail, the vivid green leaves of the trees started to blur slowly. I squeezed my eyes shut a few times in confusion, then in fear, as I glanced left and right. The familiar scenery ahead began to fade, like I was running into a cloud turning from white to gray. My