A moment that changed me: I hated running – until I saw it through my daughter’s eyes | Running
AAs a teenager, I was the type to not put myself down for cardio. At school, I volunteered to be a goalie because it required the least amount of movement. When it came to a sports day, if I couldn’t complain, I would reluctantly sign up for the long jump, as the long jump pit was tucked behind the bike shed and didn’t attract crowds. The idea of running on the track in front of the whole school seemed like a nightmare come true.
Unlike many of my male friends who played football or rugby for fun, I only saw exercise as punishment. ’90s diet culture dictated that being thin — and the “goodness” that came with it — was a simple case of calories in versus calories out. Exercise was a grueling way to stay slim and nothing more. I knew nothing about the feel-good effects of exercise, as I only felt like I was going to pass out.
As an adult, my attitude began to change. I tried running and found that I didn’t hate it, but I could never shake the feeling that I was bad at it. It often made me feel like I was back at school, coming in last in the relay race and embarrassing everyone, especially myself.
Until, at the age of 38, I agreed to go running with my five-year-old daughter. My husband had been running for a few years and I was trying to improve. So we talked a lot about running at home and my daughter started to take an interest in it. She said running looked like fun, which reminded me that that was the point: It was supposed to be an enjoyable pastime that made you feel better, not worse. His attitude made me realize that running was now something I chose to do, rather than something I was forced to do.
My daughter loved running with her brother but wanted to try going further. Friends with kids suggested we try junior parkrun – 2km runs for kids aged 4-14, which aim to get kids active and make running accessible. Adults can run with their children and the events are focused on fun rather than chasing a personal best.
On a frosty, early Sunday morning, we headed to a junior parkrun at a local running track. My daughter was one of the youngest runners and, running alongside her, I was amazed by her attitude and ability. She didn’t complain. She didn’t try to go to bed earlier. She really seemed to be having fun.
Afterwards, we headed to a cafe near the race track for a snack, where my daughter told me she loved the race – and to my surprise, so did I. We weren’t there to compete with anyone else or worry about our finishing time – we were simply there to enjoy the experience of running together. I didn’t follow the race on my usual running app or notice our pace.
Later, I went out for a run alone. When I started to get tired, my usual self-talk kicked in: Why don’t you stop? You are terrible at that! Then I remembered how I had spoken to my daughter a few hours earlier, encouraging her and praising her abilities. You’re doing great, I told myself. Just keep running.
To my surprise, it worked. Instead of scolding myself, I tried to talk to myself like I would to a child I adore. My daughter looks a lot like I did when I was five, so it was easy to imagine that I was talking to a younger version of myself. I knew I never wanted her to feel like running was a punishment; I wanted her to experience the effects of runners and the feel-good endorphins, and not view exercise as something to endure.
Since then, junior parkrun has become a regular event. I stopped focusing on how “good” or “bad” my runs were and resisted the urge to compare myself to others. Instead, I follow my daughter’s lead and savor the moment, grateful that my body is capable of propelling me down the track alongside her. I don’t think about calories burned or miles traveled or worry about how bad I look; instead, I focus on my well-being.
These days, cardio is no longer the enemy. I often go out on my own for longer runs and am training for my first marathon – but running 2km on Sunday morning with my favorite running buddy is still an absolute blast.
