After a few months of training, my mom and I tackled a 5K together. It was enjoyable enough, but the highlight for me as a 9-year-old was definitely the water stations—nothing like splashing cold water over your head while jogging! However, this tale doesn’t lead to my glory as a track star or marathon runner. In truth, I don’t recall us ever running together again after that day. Despite my mom’s enthusiasm, I never quite caught the running fever.
My mom, on the other hand, was fully immersed in the 1970s running revolution. The iconic book, The Complete Book of Running by Jim Fixx, had a special spot on my parents’ dresser. By the time I was 6 or 7, I could name Boston Marathon champions like Bill Daniels and Joan Benoit. Back then, finding women’s running shoes was nearly impossible in the Boston area, so my mom would trek to the New Balance outlet and buy a size 4.5 from the boys’ section. Sundays were often spent cheering her on at races as my dad captured moments with his camera. When he spotted my mom, he would excitedly point her out, and I’d leap and wave while he snapped photos.
In the early days, races had so few female participants that my mom, despite not being the fastest, would sometimes claim enormous trophies for placing first or second among a handful of women in her age category.
Lately, I’ve started grappling with the realities of aging, and I find it surprising that it’s happening to me. My mother has always maintained a positive outlook, never lamenting over wrinkles or gray hairs. As I approach the need for reading glasses and my knees have begun to ache, I recall a trip she took me on for my 40th birthday. We walked miles each day in Ireland, matching each other’s pace, and I felt relieved to keep up with her despite being 32 years younger.
Having grown up around older relatives, I know better than to tempt fate regarding health or beauty. As I write, I’m instinctively knocking on wood and warding off bad luck. While health can be unpredictable, it’s evident that there’s some truth to the idea that exercise contributes to longevity and youthful appearance. My mom, who has been running since before women’s shoes were widely available, looks fantastic—really, she looks amazing! She often gets carded when seeking senior citizen discounts.
Now in her 70s, she continues to participate in the popular Tufts 10K, an all-women’s race in Boston. It once bore the name Bonne Bell, and participants received goodie bags filled with Lip Smackers. Even as she nears 74, she never questions whether she’s too old; her answer is always a resounding “No.”
Today’s races are far more high-tech than before. My dad no longer stands at the finish line capturing images; professional companies now do that, posting photos online for runners to purchase on mugs or T-shirts. When my mom is pleased with a shot of herself, she sometimes buys the mug. During my visits, I get to sip coffee from a mug featuring a sweaty, determined, and joyful image of her crossing the finish line of her annual 10K.
Years after she first introduced me to running, I think I finally understand her lesson: perhaps it’s best not to dwell on aging and simply keep running.
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Summary
In this reflective piece, Emily Thompson shares memories of running with her mother, highlighting her mother’s lifelong passion for the sport and the lessons learned about aging and resilience. Through anecdotes about races and family support, Emily illustrates the importance of maintaining an active lifestyle and a positive outlook on life.
Keyphrase: Running and Aging
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