I used to hide my bald head. Then running showed me my strength and beauty.

After growing up with it taped to my head a majority of the time, the thought of taking my wig off in front of someone was the scariest, most nerve-wracking thought. My wig was my security, something I always hid behind.

I always felt insecure, uncomfortable. Deep down, though, I longed for the courage to take it off and be accepted.

I had some pretty great friends in my college years (who are still some of my best friends today), who saw nothing but beauty, strength and love in me. I was home one night without my wig on, something I never did in front of others, waiting for my friends to come over.

I walked in my room to put my wig on as my wall mirror caught my eye. I really looked at myself, how tan I was from the summer sun, in a cute new green sundress that complemented my tone so well and I smiled and walked back out to greet my friends without my wig on.

This was the first time I had done this in front of someone who wasn’t part of my family. I can still vividly remember their reactions; the biggest smiles on their faces, tears in one friend’s eyes as they all ran to me. They hugged me and told me how beautiful I am.

I have never felt more beautiful, embraced and loved in my life than at that moment. This was the biggest stepping stone for me in my alopecia journey. I slowly was taking steps to accepting my alopecia, and transforming back into the person I was always meant to be.

Alopecia is a hair loss disease caused when your immune system attacks your hair follicles, prohibiting or limiting hair growth. This condition can happen to anyone at any age.

There are two main types of alopecia — areata and universalis. Areata falls out in small chunks, usually about a quarter size and then all together, but can grow back at any time. Universalis, like I have, is total body hair loss. When I was 2 years old, all of my hair fell out and hasn’t grown back. The bonus for me: I never had to shave or pluck any hair. Talk about saving money on shampoo and razors my entire life!

I’ve only ever known life in a wig. It was really tough growing up always wearing a wig, always reminding me I was different from all the other kids. I never felt comfortable, like I was always hiding a secret that I never talked about.

Looking back at it now, at age 27, there definitely can be a lot of positive sides to wigs if you choose to wear one. I was born with beautiful red hair, so I have always kept my wigs in the red-haired family.

A wig would usually only last me about six months, before it was all faded and dried out. I was an athlete and was always working out and would get sweaty, so I needed to wash and brush my hair every day.

I used double-sided tape, and sometimes glue, to keep my wig on. Looking back now, I have no idea why I put myself through that. I would have to just rip it off at the end of the day, and my head always had open scars. I put bandages over them because, to me, it was never an option to not wear my wig. It was all I knew.

I will never forget this one day in seventh-grade gym class, when I was growing up in Wisconsin. There was a group of girls who were the biggest bullies to me. We were playing the football game, “500.” The ball was tossed up and I jumped to catch it as one of them pulled off my hair from the pony tail.

There is no way it could have been an accident — she was practically standing on top of me as we waited for the toss. They all laughed, as did some other kids; some just stared at me and one yelled, “Lindsay has no hair.”

I was mortified, it was my biggest fear come true. I remember trying to not make eye contact with anyone, picking up my hair and running out of the gym. I became depressed. The only reason I went back to school was because of basketball tryouts.

Basketball became a huge escape for me. I would come home and shoot hoops in my driveway for hours, pretending like I didn’t have alopecia and was just like everyone else.

I started to stand out from the kids, because of my ability. Even though my peers were still mean to me, I slowly started to focus less on my alopecia because I had basketball as a distraction.

I went on to break countless school records and played college basketball. But it was really through running that my life changed. I remember crossing the finish line of my first marathon during my senior year of college and something just clicked. Emotions overtook my heart.

I set a goal to run 27 marathons by the time I turned 27. I thought this was the age that you’re considered a “real adult.”

Running is hard work. It takes early mornings, countless training hours no matter the weather and true grit. These moments shaped me, showing me the true meaning of life and what is really important, instead of worrying about what I have on my head.

Also, the weather in Charlotte is HOT. I will never forget the day on a 20-mile training run, I just felt this wave of strength come over me and I ripped my wig off mid-run, tears welling up in my eyes as I hung it up once I got home (dripping wet in sweat) and I haven’t looked back since. Two weeks later, I flew out to San Diego for my first ‘bald’ marathon and I got a PR and qualified for Boston.

It was last June that I ran my 27th marathon in San Diego. It was a day I will never forget. I put my arms in the air and have never felt happier with my bald head shining in the California sunshine. I was finally ME and couldn’t be prouder.

I am currently training for my 30th marathon March 18 in Atlanta. My new goal is to finish a 50-mile ultra marathon in early 2019. This year, I will be racing on behalf of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon Series and I couldn’t be more excited and thankful to take on Raleigh, San Diego, Chicago, Philadelphia, Savannah and San Antonio. My goal is to set a PR in my marathon time this year (my PR is 3:30) and to inspire other runners to go after their dreams and to never quit no matter what.

There is something so special to me about myself and the road in the early mornings, or lacing up my shoes on race day with complete strangers patting my head and screaming for me. I feel like I am Superwoman in these moments.

I am truly grateful for my alopecia. It has been the greatest gift I never knew I needed. Through it all, I have learned strength, the true meaning of beauty, to always think of others and to be kind to someone no matter what. The most important thing in the world is to love and believe in yourself; the sky truly is the limit.

Editor’s note: This article was originally published Jan. 15, 2018.

This story was originally published January 15, 2018 at 11:00 PM.