My mom called me at 10 p.m. a few nights ago and asked if I wanted to go running with her at 6:30 the next morning. The only thing I loathe more intensely than running is waking up early. But because I’m (trying) to train for the American Fork Canyon Run Against Cancer half-marathon in June, I bit my tongue and said, “No, but I will.” Then I went to sleep, dreading the moment my horrid alarm would force me out of bed and onto the pavement with a crazed woman close to twice my age and easily twice as fast.
My mom is turning 60 this summer and is in better shape than I have ever been in. She has run more than a dozen marathons, including Boston, and countless halfs. She is always training. And for some reason she doesn’t take my “I hate running and if you make me do it I’ll hate you too” threats very seriously.
She showed up right on time with a smile on her face, looking way too bright-eyed and bushy tailed for such a cold, rainy morning and waited patiently while I took my time putting on my running shoes, muttering bad words under my breath that I for sure would have been grounded for if she were still in charge of me. (Wait — is she still in charge of me? Is this why I can’t say no?)
We set out at what I thought was a pretty fast jogging pace, until I looked over and saw that my dog, Honey (who loves running), was actually still walking briskly beside me.
Five miles later, we were feeling tired and panting heavily (except Honey, she was still trying to pull me along faster) when I turned to my mom and said, “How do you do it? How do you not want to just give up?”
She said, “I have been running for 40 years. It isn’t ever easy. I don’t think it’s actually easy for anyone. Every time I start out on race day I think, ‘How in the world am I going to finish this marathon?’ But I imagine a coach right beside me telling me that I can do it. You can do it, too. It is all up here,” she said, pointing to her head. “Running is all mental.”
I will agree with that. And if I’ve inherited anything from my athletic parents, I would say sheer will, determination and endurance would be at the top of the list. I can push myself, even if I’m not very graceful about it.
I was listening to an episode from the "Show Up" podcast by Natalie Norton later that day with guest Cliff Prang, and they discussed something that seemed to pull all my thoughts together.
“You’ve got to know why you’re doing it,” Norton quoted Prang. “If your purpose is bigger than your pain, you can follow through.”
What is my purpose in running? It changes every day. Sometimes it’s to clear away the muddiness that settles into my mind, weighing it down and making everything seem heavier. Sometimes it’s to release endorphins and boost my mood so I can be a happier mother. Sometimes it’s just to check off those miles. But mostly, I think the little girl inside of me is still trying to prove to her mama that she can do hard things, just like she taught her to.