“Seeking out women to run with no talk about competitions or past races.”

I have always wanted to be thin and beautiful as if it would bring me all things of success. Happiness, friends, a great relationship, just a fairy tale rom-com happy ending. So I have signed up for every subscription known to man. An app that promises if I cook everything on the app, run and sync up my calendar, I will be my desired weight in 12 weeks. Download a fitness app that programs 10 minute exercises that guarantees 200 calories loss? Done it. I have signed up for half marathons promising that I will complete it because I have to. I paid all this money, so I will need to train and naturally I will lose the weight and get into shape.

But actually none of those things worked. I did not get skinny. I did not get healthy. What did happen though, I did find a great partner. And I did find happiness at work, meet new people and made good friends. It wasn’t until three years ago that I bought a peloton treadmill that I finally felt like I had found some sort of exercise routine. Olivia Amato became my north star if you will. At first all I could devote to myself was twenty minutes. Taking those twenty minutes let me learn that these workouts were tough, but I was tougher (Olivia’s mantra). I had done the hard part already, selecting the class and hitting start. Getting out of the class and quitting, not a possibility. If I needed a break. OK. But I am tougher than this. I know I am.

After a few years, I went outside for a run. A hill that I could not run up, I could actually make without stopping for a break. To say it got easier is a lie. It never gets easier. What is easier is the mentality. I now know though that I can take this pain. That this feeling is temporary, and the feeling of accomplishment lasts is a lot longer. This pain was a lot less than bullying I had already endured. This pain was a lot less than the loneliness I had felt at one time. The pain was definitely a lot less than the fear I had. And I could do it!

This is tough. But you’re tougher.

Lately I had been struggling to find where I fit within the community. Where I had friends. I had just gotten out of a toxic friendship and there was a huge staff overhaul at the restaurant where I worked at. I just did not know where I fit in and honestly I felt a little sad but found a lot of truth when I said to my boyfriend Trevor, “I don’t have any friends.” When I saw the post about the BIPOC run club come up on Facebook, looking for liberal like-minded women who were not consumed talking about how many races they had completed, or how much faster they could get their mile pace. I felt like I found something that I was looking for. They wanted to find people who wanted to run together and talk about the world and how we all fit in it.

The first run I did not go. I had said I was planning to go to Trevor and Cathy, my manager and best friend. But not to the actual group, so that I could back out. The text messages kept coming in from the group confirming, and I got more and more anxious. When something came up at work and I had the opportunity not to go, I took it. I stayed late.

The next meet up was approaching. I watched as the messages came in from the group. I still had not made up my mind if I was going to go.

The night before the second meet-up, when everyone started chiming in and chiming out that they were going or not. It was Amelia who eventually convinced me to go. She said it was her first time running ever at the first meet up, and Ezra putting that we could just put +1 and commit that finally made me decide to go. I felt the pit in my stomach. My heart was racing, and I shakily wrote “+1.” Immediately afterward, I felt relief. I could back to my workday. I felt nervous, but I also felt happy about it too. I had something to look forward too. Something for me, and something that I was genuinely loved to do.

I got home from work and had told my mom and Jenny, my sister, on the phone that I was going to go to the run club, casually like I had gone a million times and they should already know that it was a part of my daily routine. They didn’t question it, which I liked. It made me feel at ease.

-Okay I can do this. Its not a big deal. I do it all the time.

I opened the door and like always the dogs were happy to see me and it would’ve been so easy to lay down and hug them. Snuggle in a blanket and the three of us position ourselves in total comfort. That is usually how I end up going into what I call'“depression sleep.”

But I was not going to do it. I had committed. Don’t sit down, just set your stuff down and keep going. I went to the closet and I realized that all the clothes that I had were ugly and all wrong. So of course I could no longer go. I didn’t have the newest Lululemon outfits that made me look right, and I didn’t have the right shoes. Everything was bad and ugly. Everything just accentuated how ugly I was. I put on different shirts, different shorts, everything made me look fat. I was getting closer and closer to being late and I was getting more and more exasperated. At this point I was running out of time and I knew that I would struggle to find parking so I just put on an old Taylor Swift shirt and bicycle shorts that were comfortable, functionality had to win because I was just too short for time.

I got in the car and turned down my music. I didn’t want my music to be loud and expose how ridiculous I could really be. As soon as I got to the parking lot, I knew it was completely full. Okay, it’s a sign. I can go home. I looked around and it didn’t seem like there was anyone there. But that’s when all the messages kept popping up in the app.

-parking!

-can someone hold my bag in their car?

-be there in ten!

This is just like the treadmill. Hardest part is just committing to it. I parked far up the hill, way away from the meeting spot. I got out of the car and began walking towards the group. Man was it awkward. Ezra introduced herself immediately. Of course she is tall, thin, beautiful and from Turkey with an exotic accent. Most everyone there is already her coworker so they all have a strong rapport. Immediately I want to get out of here. The idea of saying, “yeah sorry, this is just too much social interaction for me. I gotta go” almost seems easier.

But it’s Seward Park. I love Seward Park. My parents call it Orcas park because of the road they have to follow to find it. It reminds me of them and they make me safe and they make me brave. I can do this. I just need thirty seconds of bravery and then I can do this. I let everyone carry on after introductions and off we went.

I didn’t know exactly where to be in the running group I wanted to be once we all started and I struggled to find my pace. I definitely wasn’t with the slowest group. But then again, I didn’t not want to be at the front with the first runner, because then I would look like the biggest asshole if I couldn’t keep up and eventually found myself at the end of the group.

Amelia, I remembered from introductions was now on her second run ever and she was solidly in the middle of the pack. I am going to stick by her side I thought, me and you Amelia, buddies forever.

After a while I am not thinking about my pace anymore. Instead I am just thinking about helping Amelia. She really wants to complete a full 5 km. A loop and a quarter. She keeps repeating it to herself over and over almost like a mantra. I have done so many loops around this park. Completed anywhere from just the 2.4 miles to 7.9 miles. I know every corner. I can gauge how much milage I have left, when I can psychologically take a break and when I really need to push myself. It was feeling really nice to help Amelia and I was getting more and more out of my head. At the end I felt so good. Everyone else did too. We all just felt closer and friendly. Stiff posture was gone. Inclusion to the after-event was a given. That thirty seconds of bravery brought me so much. It brought me peace and it brought me friendship. What more can you ask for?

BIPOC Run Club

“Seeking out women to run with no talk about competitions or past races.”

This is tough. But you’re tougher.