For many, the resurgence of spring brings with it a familiar call to the outdoors, much like the appeal of sundresses, patio brunches, and spontaneous road trips. For me, running embodies this springtime essence, though it wasn’t always the case. My initial foray into running was less about personal desire and more about external encouragement. Driven by my mother’s well-intentioned push, I found myself in a competitive running club at a young age. However, the experience felt more obligatory than enjoyable. Racing, in particular, lacked the intrinsic motivation that truly fuels a passion. Consequently, as soon as I was given the autonomy to choose, I left running behind without a second thought.
This sentiment of indifference towards running lingered well into my adult years. In my twenties, I made a few attempts to rekindle a relationship with running, swayed by its image as a trendy and health-conscious pursuit. Yet, these endeavors never ignited the passion or provided the fulfillment I was searching for. However, as life often orchestrates, fate intervened, and I rediscovered and fell in love with running approximately six years ago. This time, I was actively seeking an outdoor activity that resonated with my introverted nature – something I could do solo, on my own terms.
Despite my past reservations, I cautiously ventured back into running. I was a dedicated weekend warrior, committed to staying active, and in need of an activity that offered a counterbalance to my more socially demanding hobbies like road cycling and tennis. This quest led me to a pivotal moment: my first Black Girls RUN! meetup. It was there that my perception of running began to transform. I encountered a community of women who looked like me, who not only took running seriously but genuinely relished it. They weren’t just weekend runners; they incorporated running into their daily lives – before work, after work, even during lunch breaks.
Initially, I remember thinking, “Who has the time or energy for that?”. I was also introduced to the concept of planning life and even vacations around races – something they affectionately called “runcations.” Some of these women were running distances I couldn’t fathom at the time – 13.1 or even 26.2 miles – all in the name of fitness and, surprisingly, fun. My inner monologue was a mix of disbelief and curiosity: “Who are these people? Are they from another planet?”. Yet, something shifted. Gradually, I found myself running during the week, embracing those early morning and lunchtime runs. I started organizing my schedule and travel around races and running destinations. Before I knew it, half marathons became a part of my reality. It was an unexpected evolution, but the idea of willingly running a full marathon still seemed like an extraordinary, almost unbelievable feat.
Running unlocked a sense of community I hadn’t realized I was missing. It enriched my life in countless ways, bringing new friendships, a surge of confidence, and the liberating feeling of simply being myself – embracing my own race, my own pace, my own space. While running is inherently a solitary journey of self-discovery, sharing it with others has become a source of mutual inspiration and encouragement. Running has profoundly reshaped my understanding of self-care. As Black women, we often carry a deep-seated sense of responsibility to care for others, to excel in our careers, sometimes at the expense of our own physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Running has emerged as my primary self-care practice, something I consciously prioritize, even if it’s just for a short mile or two.
However, being a runner transcends mere self-care; it’s woven into the fabric of my identity. It’s a label I proudly embrace, alongside others like wife, daughter, sister, friend, realtor, mentor, and advocate. Life has taught me a valuable lesson: it’s never too late to pursue a dream, to live authentically, to become the person you’re destined to be – or, indeed, to take up and fall in love with running. Last year, I even achieved a personal milestone by completing my first full marathon. Whatever your running aspirations may be, there’s a race, a pace, and a space waiting for you to discover it.
