How Running Changed My Life

When I was twelve years old, I joined my middle school’s cross-country team. I was nervous as my mom went to college for track and field, and I was much smaller than the rest of the girls on the team. I went to an all-girls school, so the culture surrounding the sport was a little toxic. My coach did her best to combat the negative self-talk and internal ideas, but it was still hard to block out the images and thoughts that would creep in. 

In high school, the negative self-talk and toxic energy crept past the walls I thought I had put up. Thinking that I could just ignore the hunger that I felt, I would be faster. During our preseason practices in mid-August, we were running about 10 miles a day. Which was too much for our developing bodies. Every single girl on the team had an injury she was dealing with. Our hips, knees, and shins were in constant pain and ached. Going up and down the stairs to get to class caused me to wince in pain and grip the handrail harder with each step. I also wasn’t recovering fast enough. 

Being at an all-girls school, the culture around food was horrible. It was common practice to not eat on the day of prom or other dances, then go and drink to get drunk faster later in the night. I was only on the team for three years in high school because I couldn’t take it anymore. Our coach was making me hate myself and the sport. I was being fed toxic mindsets and bad habits. One thing I distinctly remember is my coach telling the team that we had to be “mentally tough.” Which alone isn’t terrible advice, but it was the fact that she meant that we had to ignore our mental health, and that when we were tired, we just weren’t pushing ourselves hard enough. After lots of breakdowns in the athletic trainer’s office (I owe her a lot; she really helped me), I decided not to run my senior year and to take the season off to let my body heal from the daily aches and pains in my legs. 

The problem was that I loved to run. I would run on my own, without the toxic energy I was absorbing from the school’s team. My body no longer ached and protested when I went up and down the stairs. I was able to eat, and I no longer had to “earn my meals” or “work for it.” I was finally able to enjoy something I loved. But I missed the team. I missed gossiping about whatever was going on that day and how much I loved being a part of a team like that; the bus rides to and from meets were always the best parts. I really missed having a second family, but I didn’t miss being in pain all the time. 

Once I got into college, I considered joining something to stay active. I thought that it would be nice to be a part of something again. So I emailed the coaches of the college’s cross-country team. It was a big risk for me, given how much I had endured in high school. I was worried about the problems I had before, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I really wanted to be a part of a team again. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I had ever made. 

I reached out to the coaches, and we set up a Zoom meeting. I immediately knew this would be good. Coach Glass and Coach Fox were so warm and friendly; they asked about me as a person, not just as an athlete. I briefly explained some of my apprehensions about running again, and they listened. Being believed as an athlete felt new and really good. The summer training we were given had built-in rest days, and our coaches are always telling us to get more sleep. They took into consideration the lives of college athletes and that we were more than the miles we ran. 

Coach Glass and Coach Fox changed the way that I viewed my running and training. They valued rest and nutrition. This was the first time I ate at a table of women, and they had real, good, and balanced meals. I wasn’t nervous to eat in front of the team. No one commented on the size of our bodies or on a “runner’s body,” which is stereotyped as very lean and light in frame. The coaches would bring up bagels after a hard workout and talk about our favorite Dunkin’ Donut flavors without shame. Not only did my understanding of food change, but my mentality about running changed. I no longer feel the need to train at 110% every single workout. I am allowed to be tired and to have bad days. 

Our team feels like a real family; we all get along, and if one of us annoys someone else, we move on by the next day. The women’s team is a close group, and we still gossip during warm-ups and cheer for each other the loudest during meets. I am so thankful to my coaches for teaching me to be a healthy runner, not just a fast runner. That I am not just a number in a race, but an athlete who can have bad days and bounce back. 

Cross-country hasn’t been the easiest thing in my life; it’s given me a lot of ups and downs and a lot of stress. It has taught me the value of consistency and rest. That rest and genuinely listening to your body are more important than winning every meet. The people who will support you are very important, and these are the connections that I will carry with me. I see myself always being a runner, and it took me a long time to get to the point where I am now comfortable with calling myself a runner, an athlete, and a really good teammate. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without the Emerson Cross-country team or my coaches, who changed the game for me in terms of my mindset and work ethic. I am so grateful for these opportunities, and I hope to be there for others, and they are for me. 

• college
• health
• running