After a few months of running together, my mother and I participated in a 5K. It was enjoyable, and honestly, one of the highlights was receiving water from enthusiastic onlookers and joyfully pouring it over my head. What can I say? I was only 9. However, this story doesn’t conclude with my transformation into a track star or a marathon runner; in fact, I don’t recall us running together again after that day. As much as my mother hoped, I never developed a passion for running.
But my mother? She was devoted. She was part of the running revolution of the 1970s, and Jim Fixx’s 1977 classic, The Complete Book of Running, proudly occupied a prominent spot on my parents’ dresser. By the time I was 6 or 7, I could already name Boston Marathon champions like Bill Rodgers and Joan Benoit. In those days, there weren’t many options for women’s running shoes in the Boston area, so she would visit the New Balance outlet, where salespeople directed her to the boys’ section to buy size four and a half.
Sundays were often spent at racing events. My father and I would position ourselves near the finish line, his camera ready. When he spotted my mom, he would exclaim, “There she is!” and I’d wave excitedly while he captured the moment. In the early days, there were so few female participants that my mom, despite not being particularly fast, often returned home with enormous trophies simply for placing first or second in her age group.
Recently, I’ve begun contemplating the passage of time and the changes it brings, and I find myself surprised by it. My mother has never lamented growing older; she doesn’t scrutinize her reflection or fret over a wrinkle or a gray hair. Now, I experience aches, especially in my knees, and I’m on the verge of needing reading glasses. A few years back, she took me to Ireland to celebrate my 40th birthday, and we walked several miles every day, perfectly in sync—except I’m 32 years younger, and I was relieved to keep pace with her.
Having been surrounded by older individuals growing up, I understand the importance of not tempting fate regarding health or beauty. As I write this, I’m simultaneously knocking on wood, spitting three times for good measure, and warding off any ill fortune. I also recognize that health isn’t something we can ultimately control. However, it occurs to me that the scientists suggesting exercise can promote health—and a youthful appearance—may be onto something. My mom, who began running long before women’s running shoes were available, looks fantastic. I mean really good. She often gets carded when requesting senior discounts.
Now in her 70s, she continues to participate in the popular all-women’s Tufts 10K in Boston. It was once known as the Bonne Bell race, where runners received goodie bags filled with Lip Smackers (remember those?). Even as she nears 74, she never questions, “Am I too old for this?” Occasionally, she does ponder it, but her answer is always a firm “No.”
Races have become much more advanced over the years. My father no longer takes finish line photos; professional companies handle that now, posting images online for purchase on mugs or T-shirts. When my mom likes a photo of herself, she sometimes buys the mug version, so during my visits, I can sip coffee while admiring a picture of her—sweaty, determined, and smiling—crossing the finish line of her annual 10K.
Decades after she first introduced me to running, I believe I finally understand: perhaps the best approach is not to dwell on aging but to keep moving forward.
This article was originally published on May 10, 2013.
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Summary: This article reflects on the author’s experiences with running and the influence of her mother, who has maintained a passion for running into her 70s. It highlights the importance of staying active and embracing aging, while also touching on family and personal growth. Additionally, it provides resources for individuals interested in home insemination and fertility.