For Me, Running Isn't Just About Getting from Point A to Point B - It's About Sharing the Experience with My Daughter
As a teenager, I was notorious for being a "don't put me down for cardio" kind of girl. At school, volunteering to be the goalkeeper was my way of avoiding any form of physical activity that might require too much movement. Sports day, however, was an entirely different story. If I couldn't fake a sicknote, I'd reluctantly sign up for long jump - at least that meant I wouldn't have to face the crowded track where everyone would be watching.
But it wasn't just the prospect of being in the spotlight that made me hesitant about running. It was also the idea that exercise had to be a chore, something that only served as a means to an end. The diet culture of the 90s touted thinness as the ultimate goal, with exercise being seen as a necessary evil to achieve it. In reality, I'd never experienced the benefits of exercise beyond the feeling of exhaustion.
Fast-forward to my adult years, and while running still wasn't my favorite thing to do, my attitude had begun to shift. However, the fear of not being good enough lingered, and I often found myself comparing my performance to that of others - a habit that didn't exactly make me feel like I was enjoying the experience.
That all changed when I agreed to go for a run with my five-year-old daughter. At 38 years old, I still hadn't developed a taste for running, but my daughter's enthusiasm was infectious. As we chatted about running before our outing, she expressed excitement at the prospect of trying it out, and her genuine enthusiasm made me realize that maybe this whole running thing wasn't as daunting as I'd thought.
Our first attempt at junior parkrun - 2km runs for kids aged four to 14 - was a revelation. While other parents were jostling with their own offspring, my daughter ran alongside me without complaint or hesitation. She didn't try to ditch us early or stop mid-way; she simply enjoyed the experience of running and exploring her surroundings.
That moment of clarity sparked something within me. As we stopped for a snack afterwards, my daughter proudly declared that she'd loved the run - and, much to my surprise, I did too. We weren't there to compete with others or focus on our finish times; we were simply enjoying the moment together.
When it was time for me to go out running alone later that day, my usual inner monologue began to take over: "Why don't you stop? You're terrible at this!" But instead of indulging in those negative thoughts, I recalled how I'd spoken to my daughter just hours before. I told myself, "You're doing great; just keep going."
To my surprise, it worked. By adopting a more childlike approach to running - one that emphasized the joy of movement and exploration rather than performance or competition - I was able to shake off the mindset that had held me back for so long.
Since then, junior parkrun has become an integral part of our weekly routine. Instead of focusing on my own progress or comparing myself to others, I've come to relish the moments we share together on the track. It's not just about running; it's about experiencing life - and that's something I can genuinely appreciate.
As a teenager, I was notorious for being a "don't put me down for cardio" kind of girl. At school, volunteering to be the goalkeeper was my way of avoiding any form of physical activity that might require too much movement. Sports day, however, was an entirely different story. If I couldn't fake a sicknote, I'd reluctantly sign up for long jump - at least that meant I wouldn't have to face the crowded track where everyone would be watching.
But it wasn't just the prospect of being in the spotlight that made me hesitant about running. It was also the idea that exercise had to be a chore, something that only served as a means to an end. The diet culture of the 90s touted thinness as the ultimate goal, with exercise being seen as a necessary evil to achieve it. In reality, I'd never experienced the benefits of exercise beyond the feeling of exhaustion.
Fast-forward to my adult years, and while running still wasn't my favorite thing to do, my attitude had begun to shift. However, the fear of not being good enough lingered, and I often found myself comparing my performance to that of others - a habit that didn't exactly make me feel like I was enjoying the experience.
That all changed when I agreed to go for a run with my five-year-old daughter. At 38 years old, I still hadn't developed a taste for running, but my daughter's enthusiasm was infectious. As we chatted about running before our outing, she expressed excitement at the prospect of trying it out, and her genuine enthusiasm made me realize that maybe this whole running thing wasn't as daunting as I'd thought.
Our first attempt at junior parkrun - 2km runs for kids aged four to 14 - was a revelation. While other parents were jostling with their own offspring, my daughter ran alongside me without complaint or hesitation. She didn't try to ditch us early or stop mid-way; she simply enjoyed the experience of running and exploring her surroundings.
That moment of clarity sparked something within me. As we stopped for a snack afterwards, my daughter proudly declared that she'd loved the run - and, much to my surprise, I did too. We weren't there to compete with others or focus on our finish times; we were simply enjoying the moment together.
When it was time for me to go out running alone later that day, my usual inner monologue began to take over: "Why don't you stop? You're terrible at this!" But instead of indulging in those negative thoughts, I recalled how I'd spoken to my daughter just hours before. I told myself, "You're doing great; just keep going."
To my surprise, it worked. By adopting a more childlike approach to running - one that emphasized the joy of movement and exploration rather than performance or competition - I was able to shake off the mindset that had held me back for so long.
Since then, junior parkrun has become an integral part of our weekly routine. Instead of focusing on my own progress or comparing myself to others, I've come to relish the moments we share together on the track. It's not just about running; it's about experiencing life - and that's something I can genuinely appreciate.