Running Through Our Family
I am not a morning person. I hate getting out of my nice warm bed even for coffee. But I really hate the idea of crawling out of my nice comfy bed to go outside and become a puddle of sweat. There are no two ways about it. I just hate morning runs. Except, suddenly, I don’t. Suddenly, I am excited about the prospect of waking up each morning to run. I still hate starting my morning as a puddle. But I love that my oldest son is running with me these days.
I meet him down stairs. We pull together a couple of waters and head out the door for an easy 3-6 miles through our neighborhoods and I love it. I seldom look back on any run in my life and think, boy did I regret that. But these runs I actually look forward to. The opportunity to talk to my son about his life, about his job and and school, about my job and both of our plans for the future is a true gift.
But today as I thought about this I realized that running has been a gift for us as a family for as long as we have been a family. My husband and I started running together shortly after we got married. We ran through the streets of Charlotte, coming to realize we could be athletes if we chose to be. When our children came along we took turns pushing the jog stroller. As they grew we took them with us on short runs. Running with Meg made me a writer. I may have never started this blog or written anything else had I not run that first 5-miler with her, afterwards writing, Raising a Runner. And now, our youngest son has joined in the mix, running his first 5k this spring and running with our Kids Run Too program at the store.
Each of these experiences has lead to a family of runners, opportunities to run together or to cheer for each other at events throughout the year. I am not a morning person, but I am a family person. I believe in the power of running, the power of family and the most of all the power of running as a family.