The Day Running Changed

I have been a runner since I was a teen. My relationship with running has ebbed and flowed over the years, as most relationships do. But, at the core of it all, I am a runner. Running has shaped my life and my career. If I never log another mile for as long as I live, I will forever call myself a runner.

My parents were, and continue to be, amazing role models. My mom was a collegiate runner in the 60’s and 70’s, long before it was considered acceptable for a female to be a runner, or an athlete at all. I consider my mom to be one of the trailblazers that allow me to feel empowered as a female athlete. Much like Forrest, she just felt like running.

My dad picked up running in his 50’s. For a long time he was ‘that guy’ in my small hometown, if you saw a man running, it was more than likely him. That man can find a runner anywhere. ANYWHERE. My parents no longer run, but still stay as active as they are able. These are my examples, quietly just doing what they did. Little did I know they were my inspiration, and always my biggest fans. It was a forest for the trees situation.

In junior high and high school, I was the only one of my close friends that decided to forego the softball team, an accomplished one at that, for the track team. I realized at a young age that my hand eye coordination wasn’t doing me any favors. This hasn’t changed 20+ years later.

On the track I found a piece of myself that I didn’t know existed. I relied on myself, my own inner strength. My high school’s cinder track (yeah, that was still a thing in the late 90’s) pushed me, beat me up and made me appreciate a body that I had often been teased for. You have to find a little toughness within yourself when you take a nosedive over a hurdle on any track. But, picking cinders out of your knees and heading back to the blocks is an extra special thing that makes you dig pretty deep. I wasn’t a track star, but the lessons I learned there have served me into adulthood.

This inner strength was something that I didn’t fully realize until I was in my mid 20’s. I was struggling with my direction in life, feeling stuck in a job I didn’t like, not having luck finding something meaningful. One chilly fall day I cheered on my brother and his then girlfriend, now wife, as they ran the Detroit Marathon. I asked myself a life-changing question, “if they can do it, why can’t I?”

I was out of shape and eating terribly, drank about six cans of regular Coke daily. I ate McDonald’s almost daily. But, I started moving my body. It hurt, but I pressed on. Within a year I ran three half marathons and my first marathon. My parents cheered me on through it all. My dad even ran some of my milestone distances with me – my first ten miler, the last 10k of my first marathon.

Running inspired me to become a Dietitian. Turns out, if you eat better, you run better. If you drink water, you run better. Generally speaking, you feel less crappy. I hadn’t even realized that I felt like crap.

Ten years later, my life looks quite different. Running helped me manage anxiety and depression. I’ve worked for a specialty running store and a non-profit that promotes physical activity, nutrition and mindfulness. I ran three more marathons. I joined the board of my local Girls on the Run. Running became a part of my DNA.

Running changed my life, but there was a day, a very specific day, that running changed for me. See, it had always been about me. Could I run a distance? Could I run it faster? Could I beat that person? Could I set a PR? I, I, I. Me, Me, Me.

On August 28, 2017 it stopped being about me. I was six weeks post partum with a beautiful baby girl. I was itching to run. I wanted to move my body which hadn’t run in nearly a year. As she and I set out with our brand new baby jogger, I kept looking at this tiny human that my husband and I had made. I realized that I was setting an example. From six weeks old, she would watch me take care of myself, because if I do, she will see it. If I run, or just move my body regularly in any way, I will be healthy for her. Running isn’t about me anymore. It’s about my girl. Just like the quiet ways our parents supported my brother and I as athletes. They walked, ran and exercised, so we did.

Sure, I reap some benefits. One day I hope to run for distance or time again. My endurance is slowly increasing and my body is getting stronger again, but at the end of the day, it is the example now I set for her that is the most important. She doesn’t care about my distance or pace or place in the pack. She just needs to see me do it. That is the motivation I need to get out the door on the hard days.

Maybe she will be a runner, maybe she won’t. But, running changed, I run for her.