Running: I Am My Mother’s Daughter

Once upon a time, I hated running. My mother loved it. She still loves it, and runs as often as her schedule allows. I, on the other hand, hated running with a passion. Give me a volleyball or a basketball, and I could run back and forth for hours. But run in a circle? That’s it? No way!

About a year ago, I started running and fell in love. It hurt all the time, and I had to push myself to get outside, and there were always a million reasons not to run. But those were the very reasons that I loved running: because when I came home after a run, no matter what the distance, it meant I had won.

When we got Baby Bear, running became a little more difficult, as he was too small to go bumping all over the place in a carrier or stroller. When he was older, though, we managed it. I even ran a 5K on Mother’s Day weekend last year, and then ran the 10K around my family’s cottage that summer around the lake. I loved it. I finally understood why my mother always regained her sanity on her runs. Why she always insisted on riding bikes or rollerblading alongside her as she ran when we were homeschooled. In a world and lifestyle where so much chaos, disorder, and changed plans occur, it is a beautiful breath of fresh air to force myself to do something hard.

Then we got Fuzzy Bear. Sleep schedules went out of wack again. I was teaching part-time, and working through the possibility of reunification, while also maintaining travel plans and daily life. I joined Crossfit, and LOVED it. But, with two babies, it was just too hard to find time to go to the classes around nap-times, grad school, grading, and time as a family.

I want so badly to go back into running again, but I just can’t seem to find the motivation. I’m hoping that next weekend will see that change.

Next week, my mom, dad, and youngest sister are coming down to visit. That’s right. My running mom and exercise-minded dad and my self-disciplined sister are coming, and I am going to take advantage of daily runs while they are here. Hopefully, my mother will be kind and merciful to me.


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