Am I a mom who happens to run, or am I a runner who happens to be a mom? The answer is easy: I'm a mom who runs. If only because I became a mom first, a runner second, after six years in the motherhood.
At first the mom in me didn't want anything to do with the runner. She thought the runner was out of her mind, and quite frankly: a bit scary. But the runner has turned out to be the best friend I ever had. She's always just a run away, and never fails to make me feel better. Without her, I would have run too, but only for the hills.
Both as a mom and a runner I try to improve myself, but I avoid competing. Competing just makes me nervous. Because then I start worrying I'm not good enough and what others will think of me. I fret that I'm not fast enough, and I start pushing myself too hard until all the joy is gone.
And I end up a lonely, quivering mess of a mom and runner.
I strive to be content being the mom and runner that I am, and rejoice in other moms and runners. To not feel threatened or intimated by the way they do things.
Yes, I am a mom who runs.
And I love it!