Peaks and Valleys: Running as a Healer Through My Life’s Big Transitions

Running has been a constant in my life for the past 15 years. Running has positively enhanced my world in so many ways, both physically and mentally. Through the good and the bad, the beauty and the heartbreak, running has been the loyal companion I can always rely on. Running has provided a safe space to channel my energy, tension, and big feelings. Running presents an opportunity to think, feel, release, meditate, and decide. It can also offer an opportunity for the mind to be still, to simply exist and be present in the moment.

There have been two significant times in my life where running truly took the role as a healer, as a gentle hand guiding me toward acceptance and harmony in an otherwise turbulent time. First, when my mom passed away, and second, when I became a mother myself. 

I first began running in 2009 upon learning the devastating news that my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I was 19 years old and a sophomore in college. My entire world flipped upside down instantly. I was still at the age where I naively assumed my parents would live forever, the thought of losing them was a distant concept. And yet, my seemingly healthy, 47 year-old mom was terminally ill and given a few months left to live. The whirlwind of emotions I felt is difficult to describe; I experienced a fierce combination of pain, sadness, anger, denial, and desperation. All these emotions were compounding inside me so intensely I thought I was going to explode. I needed an outlet to release the grief, so I gravitated toward running. At this time, running was not a carefree, fun hobby for me. Running served a purpose, one purely for my own sanity. 

Running certainly didn’t make the problems go away, yet it was a welcome reprieve and provided momentary relief. The reality of what was to come mercifully took a backseat in my mind as I moved. The act of pushing myself physically, running hard and fast, became a form of therapy. Running stayed beside me as a calming reassurance during the difficult months ahead: when my mom decided to stop her chemo treatments, I ran. After witnessing her keeled over in pain at the hospital, I ran. When she became bedridden at home with hospice care, I ran. After she passed and I sat beside her saying my final goodbyes, I ran. It was six months of hell, and then in a blink of an eye, she was gone. 

Running was there for me in the months and years that followed. The open road and trails were a dependable space to purge the heartache and rage. With the passing time came peace and acceptance of what was. With that healing also came a positive transition in my relationship with running. Running became an enjoyable, exciting hobby rather than an urgent necessity. My mindset transitioned from ‘I need to go running’ to ‘I want to go running.’ Running, especially trail running, soon became a meditative and calming activity that energized and revitalized my body, mind and soul.

In 2020, I celebrated the arrival of my first child. As I entered the throes of new motherhood, running became a healer in my journey once again. During this transitionary period, running brought me back to myself. I had my son in July 2020 during the peak of COVID-19, social distancing, shut-downs, and wildfires. After returning home from the hospital, we quarantined for several weeks as I was healing from my C-section and we now had a vulnerable newborn in our midst. While safety was the priority, not being able to physically see or accept hands-on help from my family was difficult. One of the most painful realities I had to cope with, however, was not having my mom beside me. Among the momentous occasions in my life that have keenly reminded me of my mother’s absence, such as my college graduation and wedding, the transition into motherhood was the most significant. I was taking care of my new son and doing my best to navigate the unfamiliar terrain of motherhood, yet I wanted to be taken care of too and showered in the type of unconditional love a mother provides. Grief is not linear, rather it is like undulating waves that come and go. These feelings of loss and longing were a wave I had to allow myself to acknowledge and ride out. We may not be able to stop the waves from coming, but we can learn to surf. 

The first couple years of life with my son were filled with immense love, happiness, and a new sense of purpose. There was also a growing sense of isolation and loneliness that I was not mentally prepared for. The combination of Covid restrictions, missing my mom, and deciding to leave my job to become a stay-at-home mom left me feeling very alone, irrelevant, and out of touch with the outside world. Once again, running became an outlet for me to release my stress, sadness, and anxiety. I was experiencing a loss of identity, as motherhood felt all-consuming. Running, hiking, biking, and spending time in nature provided me with a reminder of who I was, a link back to my individuality and true self. 

At this point in time, I was exclusively a solo runner and had never participated in a running group. Despite my need for meaningful connection, I was struggling to escape the blend of postpartum depression and anxiety in which I existed. It made the idea of socializing with new people incredibly daunting. However, my desire for human (adult!) connection encouraged me to move outside my comfort zone and seek others to run with. I was craving companionship and the sense of feeling seen. I started running with a few mom friends occasionally, which is a wonderful combination! We shared a love for running & the outdoors, and shared the experience of navigating motherhood together. I was wary of joining any official running groups. I feared that groups would be cliquey, and that I wouldn’t be fast enough or good enough to keep up. I tested the waters by trying a local, organized run one morning with a group called Snails on Trails! Everyone was incredibly kind, welcoming and catered to all paces; I had a fantastic experience. 

Months later, I was thrilled to discover that Trail Sisters had started a nearby Santa Rosa group. I watched the development of the group on social media for a while, still hesitant to participate. Despite my nerves, I decided to join in and it turned out to be a wonderful decision! The Trail Sisters Santa Rosa group has offered a supportive space to show up as I am, and be surrounded by inspiring, strong, and badass women! The group offers sisterhood, community, and empowerment, while celebrating each of our unique personalities and personal running goals.

Now that I am a mother myself, I reflect back on memories of my mom with renewed clarity and perspective. A beautiful soul inside and out, my mother was kind, genuine, and gracious. I can truly see now that she was also incredibly brave, strong, and resilient. She is my role model, and I strive to emulate the unconditional love, devotion, and patience she embodied so that I can be the best mom possible for my son. While I may no longer have my mom with me, I am surrounded by love, family, friends, and joy, for which I am eternally grateful.

Running, and motherhood, is a reminder that we can do hard things. We absolutely have it within us to overcome and prevail against challenges, unexpected twists and turns, and adversity. We all experience many peaks and valleys along our individual journey. All we can do is focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and keep moving forward. You will make it to the top of the climb and realize how far you’ve come. Then take a moment to look outward, and inward, to be rewarded with the most beautiful view. Happy running, friends!