GGRT Running Captain,
I am so grateful for even the possibility of running for
Gary Gribbles Running Team, and am so humbled that we came with recommendations
from the staff. The people there have been so incredibly wonderful to us—especially
considering we are a young married couple still going through school with two
kids, so we certainly don’t contribute significantly to the sales (though,
trust me—we would LOVE to contribute much, much more!). When we walk in and
someone starts talking to my two-year-old and calls him by name, I count my
blessings that we have such a great local running store so close to us.
I started running for the same reason I think a lot of women
start running—to lose weight. There wasn’t any particular joy in it. Running
was simply a means of punishment for whatever I shouldn’t have eaten the day
before. This mentality went on for years, and while it became enjoyable more as
I became fit, the motivation was never to run for the love of running. Instead,
it was a constant reminder of how inadequate I felt in all areas of my life.
The shift happened on a cool September night in 2006. I
remember sitting on my couch with a bowl of mixed nuts in my lap, watching some
trashy celebrity gossip show, when my phone rang. My best friend was calling to
tell me that one of our dear friends had passed away in a car accident. I fell
to the floor, pounding it with my fist in anger, sobs wracking through my body.
When I looked up, I saw my running shoes by the door, and without thinking, put
them on and went out into the night. It was late, and I knew no one in their
right mind should be running at that hour, but logic and reason were beyond me.
My feet pounded the sidewalk, carrying me to a pace that would force the
shattered cries into a regulated breath. I ran until my lungs burned more than
my heart ached, and until my legs screamed louder than the fury in my head. In
those moments of unbearable loss, something in me changed. I was no longer
someone who runs—I was a runner.
Since then, I met my husband, got married, graduated
college, got my Master’s degree, and have had two children. I have worked in
domestic violence and mental health centers, watched friends experience
horrific trials, supported family through various transitions, and experienced
countless personal disappointments. Sanity always seemed to be a good run away.
Through all of my experiences, reflection on what periods were the most
difficult were the times I could not run due to my stage of pregnancy.
Running has become a means of keeping my world from standing
still, whether it is through processing grief or breaking up the mundane. As a
stay-at-home mom, my days are filled with bath time, naps, convincing the two
year old to eat, and attempting to prevent the seven month old from eating
things he shouldn’t. Running helps me to
remember that I am a person, and I have been so grateful for the example it has
set for my children. My two-year-old now sees my shoes and says, “Mommy running
shoes?” I’ll put on my Oakleys, and he’ll say, “Mommy running glasses?” Just
this morning we went on a family run with interval training, with the husband
pushing the double jogging stroller, and as we finished at the park, my
two-year-old informed us that our training was a “good time.” My hope is that
our activity level will carry on, and my children will view fitness as an
opportunity rather than a punishment.
You asked about favorite local races, and that question is
difficult for me to answer, simply because each race has held such different
kinds of goodness that it is hard to pick just one. The Waddell and Reed Half
Marathon was amazing because it was so scenic. Descending and then turning onto
a road draped with old growth trees was so breathtaking, that for a moment I
simply forgot that I was exerting myself at all. The Olathe Half Marathon was
wonderful because it was the first long distance I raced by myself, and truly
felt like it was something I was doing for me. It was also great because I managed
to get a new PR out of it. The Williams Syndrome 5k was a fantastic ego boost, mostly
because it was a smaller race so I was able to take second for women overall.
It was also great because my husband’s family came out to participate in the
Williams Syndrome Walk, and saw the entire race beforehand. His grandmother was
on the phone with everyone she knew afterward, telling them how I’d taken
second “in a marathon!” God bless her. The Kansas City Temple 5k Run was such a
representation of how far I’ve come in my running—I wanted the medal so badly
because I knew it had the temple on it. I’d looked at the results from the year
before, and figured that getting a sub 23 would put me on the podium. I had
never run a sub 23:00 5k, but I was so set on bringing home one of those
medals. I pushed myself to the point of nearly getting sick, and managed to
cross the line at 22:39, enough to get second for my age group. I am so, so
proud of that medal.
This was probably a wordier response than you were looking
for, and I apologize. I have a tendency to get that way. In short, I’m a 26
year old wife, mother of two, social worker by training and mom by profession.
And I run to make sure I can do all the other stuff.
Thanks, GGRT Running Captain.
A Mommy Running
Fingers crossed we get the sponsorship. That would be eight shades of amazing.
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