Tales from Another Mother Runner

Every mother runner has a tale to tell. A story about how she realized, fifteen years after being told that she's best being a bookworm, that there is an athlete inside her. Or the one about how she, fifty pounds overweight and depressed, finally found the courage—-and time—-to lace up her running shoes. Or maybe it's about setting a seemingly impossible goal—-going under two hours in the half-marathon—-and then methodically running that goal down and tearing up across the finish line. Or it might be an account of friendship: she was new to town, was having a hard time making friends, was asked to join a group run, and now she's got four BRFs (best running friends) who are her allies, her cheerleaders, her reality checks. Maybe it's just a simple story of the beauty of starting the day off with an endorphin rush. Or, sadly, it could be about how, through the guidance of a thoughtful running friend, she found the space and rhythm to process being raped—-and regained her strength and sense of self through every footstep.