I’ve been a runner since I was little with cancer in a hospital. I would wear my parents out running around the hospital wing (I thought I was being sneaky about trying to escape but looking back I realize how obvious it was) I have always been super active, but running didn’t really became a “thing” for me until I was 14.

My running story started when I was a freshman in high school. I wanted to do something, to be a part of some group or club but I had no idea what to do. I didn’t play soccer, or softball, or volley ball. I did choir and theater in middle school, but wasn’t committed enough to the cause to do it in high school. I was good at gymnastics or swimming but my school didn’t have either of those sports and I’m not good at chess. Then I saw this flyer for the Track and Field orientation meeting. I remember foolishly being like “Hey I run around my house all the time, this could be my thing! I’m a natural!” So I went to the meeting that would change my life forever.

As far as orientation meetings go, it was pretty standard. Nothing too crazy or awe inspiring happened. The only thing I got from it was “Yes, they would take anyone” and “No, there wouldn’t be any tryouts. All freshmen were on the JV team.” That was it. I signed my name to the sign up list and agreed to meet on the track the next day after school.

Let me tell you, just because you are a human being with two legs does not automatically mean that running will be easy. I wanted to die every day at practice. The whole time I would run I thought “Why am I doing this, I’m quitting after today.” Then we would get back from our run, stretch, go home, and without fail I would somehow forget all the pain and suffering and all I could think about was how great running was and how after running I felt amazing. Sooo I would go back to practice the next day and start the whole cycle over again, rinse and repeat. Running isn’t something that you are automatically good at, and it isn’t even something that you see any visible improvement on because growth in the sport is so gradual and long; however, the amazing thing is that improvement DOES happen and with each step you take, you are that much stronger. I started out running without even being able to run a mile, and now today I run 4 miles every day.

I ran consistently for the next 10 years, which ended up being about 3 to 4 times a week. Sometimes I would go a week or two with maybe only once, but it was a huge foundational thing for me. If I was stressed, I would run. If I was upset or mad, I would run. If I was confused or unsure of what to do, I would run. In college if I was stuck on a concept or struggling to write a paper, I would run. Running is this safe place, where its just you and the world. You can go any way you want, as far as you want, as fast as you want. There are no rules or limitations. The only limiting factor is YOU. There is something really freeing about that. At the same time, you can’t hide from yourself. Running breaks you down so that the only thing left is your core, what makes you work and why you do what you do. It’s in that place that I have had some of my most soul searching moments. Moments where I was honest with myself about how I felt or what I needed to change or do. No matter what and without fail, after coming back from my run I always felt stronger, had clearer thoughts, or had the answer I was looking for. As much as running is a physical exercise, it is also a mental exercise. That truth was never more true to me than after having my third daughter.

When I was 24 years old and pregnant with my first pregnancy, I was pregnant with twins. We lost one of our babies, and in order to keep our daughter, I was put on medical rest for a time to make sure that the pregnancy had a chance to recover and strengthen in an effort to not lose the other baby. This would ultimately be the end of me running for the next five years. Once I was cleared to get off medical rest, I was able to go back to my day to day activities with the exception of running. It was decided that running would be too great a risk. Let me tell you, that was one of the greatest sacrifices I have ever done. I felt like a part of me died. Not only that, but my whole coping mechanism for life was suddenly gone.

I managed to survive, but mentally it was a struggle. I didn’t have a way to deal with emotions or traumatic events, like birth. Not all birth stories are traumatic, but my medical history and circumstances made it a beautiful yet harrowing experience, much like the book A Tale of Two Cities. After the birth of my daughter, I felt broken. I needed to heal but there was no time for that. I had a newborn to take care of and life to manage. So I picked myself up as best I could and did a pretty good job at finding a new normal. But I knew. I knew I wasn’t at my 100%.

We subsequently had two more beautiful daughters, and lost two more babies. After the birth of my third daughter, I was in such a bad place. I felt both physically and mentally weak and broken. I was so lost. It was at this point that i knew the only way for me to overcome and get “me” back was to run. It was hard to run again. I was a LONG way away from where I had once been. Everything was harder, stiffer, and more jiggly. I once could run miles and hours, and now i was struggling to go a fourth of a mile and make it without stopping after 5 minutes. It was a hard pill to swallow, but I decided that I wouldn’t quit and that keep going every single day.

Running saved me. It was a time for me to be just me, to pray, and to do hard things. If I felt weak and broken, then I would think about how I had woken up at 6 am after nursing my baby and ran for 35 min. I couldn’t be weak or broken if I could do that right? When you run, there is only you the road and your thoughts, your inner most self. It was on my runs that I realized I WASN’T broken. I was strong, brave and capable. I will never take running for granted again. It is such a blessing in my life.

Running is this living thing, this balance between your mind and body. I’ve been running consecutively for two years six days a week 35 minutes a day. You would think then that it’s not hard for me to run. That’s not necessarily true. Somedays it’s easier than others, some days it’s harder than others. If I’m feeling down emotionally, then running is harder. If I am tired physically, then running is harder. The one thing that is constant though is how I feel after. I feel free, strong, and ready to take on life.