The Power of a Running Group
It’s more than just running.
For almost 10 years, I was strictly a solo runner. It was an hour or two by myself. Not needed by anyone, not needing anyone. Just me and a good pair of running shoes. No talking, only music. Pure bliss.
When I moved to a small town in Minnesota, I didn’t know anyone besides my husband and my very young daughter. I desperately needed to expand my two-person circle. One night, I searched online for “running groups near me.” Very few results came up. However, there was one in my area. I reluctantly signed up for a running group called “Moms on the Run.”
The name itself made my cynical self cringe. I am not a mom who happens to run. I am a runner who happens to be a mom. But, I was starving for more social contact. Running moms or not.
When I arrived at the first class for Moms on the Run, I was expecting moms who had too much free time on their hands. The type of moms who fill up their days with a good calorie burn, gossip too much, and have the uncanny ability to talk nonstop about their children. Sometimes, I am the worst feminist.
What I witnessed with Moms on the Run changed how I will forever see running groups and moms who run. These women were doctors, scientists, teachers, engineers, and stay-at-home moms (who have more patience than I will ever be able to muster). They didn’t gossip because a) it was below them and b) they didn’t have time for that kind of nonsense. They were barely able to etch out a fraction of time in their hectic lives for themselves.
This was an hour where no one needed them — it was something I could relate to. But what was new to me and hit me like a selfish bag of rocks was that they showed up for one another. Every time. Every run. These were women who I wanted to grow to be.
I found that the spectacular bond they had with each other wasn’t always about running. In my first year in the group, many women faced personal tragedies — depression, loss of a family member, an ill child. It was heartbreaking when a mom would show up to the group and silently cry as we warmed up. Then, as grace would have it, one of the other members would quietly walk over and embrace them. Not a big show or a “hey look what I am doing” just as a way to say, I am here.
I became hooked on this running group. I saw these women overcome their own hurdles: running a first 5k, tackling half marathons they never thought possible, and rediscovering their self-worth. It’s incredible to watch what running can do for people when you observe it in a group.
Over the months, I bonded with many of the women, too. I realized I liked running with others. And as a bonus, I was learning more about running and becoming faster.
I developed friendships with a few of the women who I now consider some of my closest friends. I have traveled, raced, cheered, laughed, and cried with these women. They were the first to know my marriage was in shambles and held my hand through some of my darkest months. They have made me a better runner. More importantly, they have made me a better person.
All of this because I said yes to something outside of my solo running comfort zone.
I continue to run by myself with only my headphones on. That love will never fade. But, I found that running in a group is more than just about running. It’s about trust, learning, and showing up. Every time. Every run.
