When I was just a child, I experienced my first taste of running alongside my mom—a memorable 5K adventure. At the time, what thrilled me most was the water stations where onlookers handed out cups, allowing me to splash myself joyfully as we jogged by. But it’s worth noting that my journey didn’t lead me to become an athlete; in fact, I can’t recall us running together again after that race. Despite my mother’s efforts, I never truly embraced running.
However, my mother was passionate about it. She was swept up in the running movement of the 1970s, inspired by Jim Fixx’s book The Complete Book of Running, which proudly sat on my parents’ dresser. By the age of 7, I was already familiar with the names of Boston Marathon legends like Bill Rodgers and Joan Benoit. In those early days, local stores didn’t cater to women’s running shoes, so she resorted to New Balance’s boys’ section, where she would find a size 4.5. Sundays were often spent at races, with my dad capturing pictures of her crossing the finish line. I would cheer and jump, waving enthusiastically as my dad called out, “Look, there she is!”
Initially, the races had so few female participants that my mom would sometimes walk away with enormous trophies, simply because she placed first or second among a small handful of women in her age category.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve found myself contemplating the passage of time. My mother has never been one to bemoan her wrinkles or gray hairs. Personally, I’ve started to feel the aches and pains of aging, particularly in my knees, and I’m beginning to consider reading glasses. A few years back, she took me on a trip to Ireland for my 40th birthday, where we walked for miles each day. I was pleasantly surprised to keep pace with her, even though I’m 32 years younger.
Having spent time with older generations, I’ve learned to avoid tempting fate when it comes to health and beauty. As I write this, I’m knocking on wood and hoping for good fortune. I understand that we can’t fully control our health, but there’s something to be said for the scientists who assert that exercise can help maintain our vitality. My mother, who’s been running since before there were women’s running shoes, looks fantastic—truly amazing. She often gets carded when requesting senior discounts.
Now in her 70s, she continues to participate in the Tufts 10K, a beloved all-women’s race in Boston. It used to be known as the Bonne Bell race, where runners received goodie bags filled with Lip Smackers (who remembers those?). Even at nearly 74, she rarely questions whether she’s too old to run. Sometimes she does, but her answer is always a firm “No.”
Races have evolved significantly over the years. My dad no longer captures her finish line moments; now there are professional companies that do that, sharing the photos online for purchase on mugs, T-shirts, or framed prints. When my mom likes a shot of herself looking victorious and sweaty after her annual 10K, she’ll buy the mug. During my visits, I enjoy sipping coffee from that mug adorned with her radiant smile.
Years after she first introduced me to running, I finally grasp the lesson she’s imparted: perhaps the best approach to aging is to keep moving forward and enjoy the journey—without overthinking the process.
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Summary
In this article, we explore the lessons learned from my mother’s love for running, her attitude toward aging, and the importance of staying active. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for the sport, her dedication has taught me that maintaining a positive outlook and keeping physically active can lead to a fulfilling life.
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