ANOTHER
MOTHER RUNNER

“I think you really need to consider not running anymore.”

Starting the (extra long) post with a salute and a smile—and one my favorite race pictures.

I heard the words no runner ever wants to hear last Monday.

As I leafed through a April 2015 Glamour magazine, pretending to care the new best shape for plucked brows, I was really watching my right leg shake out of the corner of my eye.

I knew they were coming. I had an MRI on my lower back last June, and had studied the report. While I did a respectable job with Dr. Google translations, it wasn’t the anatomy that concerned me. It was the choice of adjectives. The words advanced and degenerative were used often, usually in front of nouns like disc, narrowing, stenosis.

When the doctor, a sweet man who knows that both my professional life and emotional wellbeing center around running, came in, he gave me a hug—a first.

Then I really knew the words were coming.

After some small talk and looking at the MRI, he gently put it out there: “I think you really need to consider not running anymore.”

Sensing that direction may be a little too abrupt, he added, "Well, you can run a 5K now and then if you want."

*****

Celebrating another comeback from a stress fracture; I was able to run Ragnar Colorado and then Ragnar DC. Two races in a row was an anomaly in my running career.

By my casual count, I have staged at least eight running comebacks, bouncing back from pregnancy, bunion surgery and stress fractures galore, among others.

The most recent injury, what I initially thought was a hamstring issue, felt different though.

Not only was it the longest (10ish months out), progress was also the least discernible. Which was upsetting because I was cramming physical therapy moves like a wannabe MD crams for the MCATs: daily and with focus. I also was sampling dry needling, the chiropractor, traction, Feldenrkrais, elements from the McKenzie method and the Big Three from Dr. Stuart McGill.

Lots of one-legged PT work too. Extra points for stunning scenery at Red Rocks.

While I definitely felt like I was getting stronger from planks + glute bridges galore, I also felt the injury wasn’t getting better.

Yes, the hamstring ache abated so pushing on the gas pedal wasn’t akin to a getting root canal anymore (win!), but I still felt physically fragile. Like doing anything cardio beyond swimming or walking would set everything off again. (In June, I figured out that stair climbing was also easy on the leg, so I also put that into the cardio rotation.)

As much as the physical situation gnawed away at me, the mental part of an injury, as I hope you don’t know personally, can be more vicious than a rabid raccoon. It is especially brutal when it doesn’t involve a broken bone or similar injury that has a clearly defined recovery timeline.

After a few months filled with managing the trifecta of pain, frustration and impatience, the when-can-I-run again loop cranked up the volume in my head. I tried for 20 minutes in Phoenix on spring break in March, and it wasn’t pretty.

When the comeback anthem wasn’t on repeat, it was replaced by thoughts that this dry-needling session or that new exercise, found by watching hours of DIY physical therapy videos on YouTube, would be the one that would finally make me feel whole. Didn't happen.

I clicked on Facebook posts showing delicious trails I wanted to run, even though going around my block twice in June had me gulping Advil.

I threw in a few miles of easy running on a hike in Wyoming over the fourth of July, and only mildly regretted doing so.

My fifth or so time running in 2017 was on the Sunday before my doctor’s appointment. I got off the stepmill with 10 minutes to go of my hour workout, and stepped on a treadmill. I put the speed at 5.0, turned up Rent’s La Vie Boheme and ran. And then my hamstring stabbed me again on the way home.

Got it, universe.

You know that feeling when you see a moth dart again and again towards a street light? Not only can't it help itself, has no idea its fascination with the beautiful shiny thing is eventually going to send it plummeting to the pavement.

This year, my brain was in moth mode. I couldn't turn it off, even though I inherently sensed my body was already plummeting.
*****

NYC 1997: Old school photo images that came in the mail. Wearing my Flashdance bandana and hanging with an interesting crowd of runners.

I count the start of my official running career as the 1997 NYC Marathon. The end of it? 2016 Philadelphia Half-Marathon, which was unbeknownst to me at the time. That’s 19 years of running regularly, Add in four more years of reluctant miles during college, and I’ve been a runner for nearly 25 years. (And yes, I get to round up.)

Crossing the 2016 Philadelphia Half my favorite way: With my arms up and a #BAMR—Melissa—by my side.

The impact a near-quarter-decade of running has had on my 6’4” body with an extra-long spine is not insignificant. Is all the damage from running? Of course not. But I can't deny that the thousands of miles I've run doesn't play a significiant role in my current spinal status.

I'm 45 years old, and I need to be mindful of what physical conditions can be reversed and what conditions can simply be managed. My discs, one of which is a total flat, oozing mothehumper that bites into my nerves, and stenosis are in the latter category. I want to be active for the rest of my life, and if I continue to run, I am not confident my body will allow that to happen.

For my own (and family’s) sanity, I have to kill the moth and the endless wondering and comeback plans. For my body's sake, I have to minimize the chronic pain. For my spirit's sake, I have consciously redirect my energy away from my running. (I am not entirely sure where I'm sending it yet, but you'll be the first to know.)

So I am taking the good doctor’s advice, and firmly pushing stop on my running.

I type that sentence with tears streaming down my face. Running has been my partner, consistently my side for over twenty years. She's always ready to rally. She is my confidante and my antidepressant, my kick in the butt and my place to relax, my connector to a higher power and my path to peer inwards. She is my cool side of the pillow and my reality check when I need one.

She can create and dry tears (sometimes in the same workout); make me second-guess my devotion to her with two minutes of a tempo effort; elicit a burning pain in muscles that I both love and hate; and summon feelings of pride, confidence, gratitude strength and ownership I've never felt standing still.

Wrong dog, right setting. (Dharma lived in the pre-running-with-phone days.)

She held my hand when I, a rower trying to make the US Olympic Crew, was injured and I had to run by the river while everybody else rowed on it. She made me, a singleton in NYC, feel less alone as we lapped Central Park. She whooped it up with me, and my BRD Dharma, as we discovered trail running in Santa Fe. She fought for every step on my longest run—16 miles—as I, healing from a stress fracture, cruised around Colorado Springs so I got get to the starting line of the 2006 Nike Women's Marathon. She didn't get mad at me in the Couer d'Alene Ironman, when my run/walk segments were really walk/walk/walk/tiny, tiny run/walk segments.

And she never complained when I sang out loud in a voice that made my 4th-grade choir wince. (True story.)

I've known her longer than my husband or my kids, and losing her has—and will continue to—make permanent indent on my life.

That said, I have to admit: I also feel lighter than I have in months. Sometimes the hard decision and the right decision are the exact same thing. When it is finally made, you can't help but exhale relief.

*****

Just because running is off the table for me doesn’t mean adventure is. I've got plenty of #BAMRish plans on my mind (Grand Canyon, anybody?), and I'm still planning to write about them—and running in general. Stay tuned.

Expect more signs, more cowbell, more #BAMR #BAMR #BAMR 'till I lose my voice!

Most importantly, I am not going anywhere in AMR on the TLAM Club. While running is the thing that introduced us, our bond is so much deeper than a race distance, a PR, a daily workout. Count on me to continue to cheer for you in person and around these virtual parts. I want to high-five you for your daily victories, and I want to boost you over speed bumps when they arise. Please continue to tag me, ask me, tell me, and invite me to celebrate.

Connection and teamwork are two of my deepest values, and they, unlike my spine, aren't degenerating anytime soon.

Deepest thanks for reading this far, and for supporting and loving me through all the ups and downs. xoxo

172 responses to ““I think you really need to consider not running anymore.”

  1. I got the same news today. I am 49 years old and have not put nearly as many miles in as you, but have been a runner for most of those 49 years….Low impact only and hiking my other equally favorite activity was also strongly discouraged. Only another mother runner can understand the mourning…I am so sorry for you, and prayers and love sent to you

  2. Dimity thank you for sharing your truly personal story, it feels strange to think it is heartbreaking and heartwarming all at once. I wish you many blessings on your road to find a new normal. Lots of love and huggles to you.

  3. The moment you started describing your pain, I knew exactly what it was — because I had the same thing!!! I was listening while doing my longest run since November – a big 4 miles…of walking and running. I could not even WALK for 3 months. Swimming even bothered me. The way my disc bulged out, I couldn’t arch my back even a tiny bit without shooting pain. I finally resigngned myself to doing absolutely nothing but my very limited PT exercises for a solid month. I was finally able to ease into walking, and when I hit a full month pain free, I started adding some stints of running into my walks. I’m still not back completely, but I’m out there. Lots and lots of ice, solid PT, and I did get the steroid shot just to calm down the crazy inflammation. Thanks for your candor – I needed to hear that!!!

  4. You brought tears to my eyes. I feel you. Every time I have had to stop running, I cry, I scream (at my husband), I sit down in the shower, I feel alone and sad and ruined. I get mad at my body, I get mad at the world, and I feel utterly alone. Your beautiful prose about your relationship with running is how I try (incoherently) to describe to others why I’m out there at 5am when I’ve only gotten 4 hours of broken sleep (due to babies). Why I push when it hurts, why I race when I should be sleeping off a cold. I cannot imagine feeling the final nail in the coffin, and I am so thankful for this piece that you wrote. I am really looking forward to reading your future writings and seeing your adventures in this great big world. I know I’ve tried yoga, Barre, hiking, biking, etc… and I can’t wait to see what personal discoveries you make out there on your journey. Thank you for being so open and honest. Raising a glass (of nuun) to you!

  5. You have a beautiful spirit, beautiful words and I look forward to being cheered on, encouraged and possibly motivated more knowing his blessed I am to be able to run. Thank you for your inspiration, love, humor and dedication to all of us on this journey.

  6. I am so sorry to hear this, Dimity, but I am sure you will find an activity that will help make the loss more tolerable. I am so glad you’ll continue to be involved with AMR and TLAM, although I suspect it will be difficult for you to “be at the banquet and not be able to partake.” I loved your essay–your writing is beautiful.

  7. I’m so sorry, Dimity, I know this is a loss. But knowing you from reading your work over so many years, you are one strong lady. And I’m confident that you will find a lace to put your running energy elsewhere and make it epic!

  8. My heart is breaking reading this. I’m so sorry to hear about this. I kept hoping I would hear that you were back at it. I’m in the midst of a 2+ year injury. MRIs and so many other tests show nothing though. I can totally sympathize with having an injury with no timeline for recovery if there ever will be one. I miss it more than anything right now. My anxiety is through the roof. Please keep us posted. I would love to hear your journey and what adventures you find that fulfill you. My best wishes that your doctors are able to remove your chronic pain and you find peace and excitement in a new place. I am out there rooting for you.

  9. I just finished listening to the podcast and tears were streaming down my face. The raw and real emotion and pain was difficult to listen to, because I’ve been there many times myself. I am an (almost) 63 year old runner (of +40 years) and I know my days are numbered that I will be able to call myself a runner. When that day arrives, I will call on the strength and courage that Dimity exemplifies, and hope I can be as brave and gracious as she clearly is. You are an inspiration, Dimity! I started reading your articles in Runners World when you and Sarah first entered the scene, and have followed your adventures ever since!

  10. As I read this post, tears welled up in my eyes. You are, and always will be a BAMR – no matter your current running status. Thank you for sharing your story with us. I hope you can feel the support of this community that you helped create. Looking forward to seeing you at the retreat to give you a big hug!

  11. I had the pleasure of meeting you in Cincinnati a couple of years ago. I cried as I read your post because I do understand how you feel. Unfortunately, my friend and fellow sidelined runner, I am in the same boat as you. It’s been a long 20 months (WOW!) since I stopped running due to an injury. I’ve tried to come back a few times, but it is always just for a run or so then back to the pain. Unlike you I had just found running about 4 years ago. I fell in love fast and deep! I loved the physical sense of accomplishment, the mental clarity it gave me and most of all the friendships I have gained from the group I ran with. I have a great wall of hardware to show off too! Over the years I have struggled with the right hip at times, but didn’t realize it was really an issue until I ran and ran…and ran until I was constantly in pain. I, too, would take time off to rest and strengthen and then would make a come back for a bit; but I always ended back in the daily pain rut and would have to stop again. January 1st of 2015 I ran my last “race”. It was a 5 miler and should have been a relatively easy jaunt around town that ended up being really hard to finish. I haven’t put a bib on since and I have sunk into a dismal place slowly since. I am working to pull out of it, but the endorphins from running have not been matched by swimming, spinning, the elliptical or just walking. After aggressive therapy I am now able to walk on pavement again without pain so I’m trying to take at least a 2 mile walk each day with my husband. It’s been tough as we are also now caring for a terminally ill parent, have a 13 year old at home still and we never know when our evening is going to be interrupted. But we keep trying. I have accepted running is not likely in my future, but as long as I can stay active by walking and working out with my trainer (and modifications!) I will be thankful to not be in pain. The hardest part has been staying connected to my running friends. I’m always available to be the driver for relays and work booths at expos anytime. Anything to stay connected.

  12. I am so sorry to hear this Dimity! Thank you for your honesty, as I know that there are likely many other injured BAMRs out there struggling with a similar issue and having it weigh heavily on their minds. I hope you can still experience those beautiful trails but through hiking and get your thrill of races through swimming and riding!

  13. Thank you for sharing your story, Dimity. Through loss, may you also find new fulfillment in starting another chapter of your life’s adventure. We are all here to hold you through the grief and cheer you on in the celebrations along the way…

  14. Dimity – I feel for you! What an amazingly difficult decision, and I so much admire the courage and grace you are exhibiting while facing it. I have been dealing with plantar fasciitis for the last three years, and I am so fearful that I may never be able to run again, at least not without causing more damage to my foot. I can relate to the countless physical therapy exercises and You Tube videos. I just want to be able to run again, and I keep hoping that I will find THE thing that will fix it. Thank you for sharing your experience with us and showing me that even if I can’t run, there is still a worthy, active life to be lived!

  15. We all support and love you Dimity!! You are continuously inspiring all of us on many many levels (AMR wouldn’t be what it is without you!)…I LOVE what you and SBS have created for the running community of mothers…thank you for sharing with us! I love your train like the mother segments in the podcasts…miss you as a regular!

  16. Dimity – does this mean no more running FOREVER? I’m not sure I could ever bear to hear those words. Hearing “6 weeks” was bad enough. I have been having hamstring issues since March. I got healthy enough to complete the Eugene Half 6 weeks later (with a maximum long run of only 8 miles). I thought I was getting better, but it bit me in the @$$ (literally) again in mid-July. Fortunately, I like to swim and I own an ElliptiGO. Both have saved my sanity.
    I strongly urge you to investigate the ElliptiGO as an alternative form of exercise! I have no hamstring or low back discomfort when I ride it and I can do some quality sessions (i.e. intervals) and long “runs” on it. I’m back running 3 – 4 days a week and some very near my previous quality session pace. The hamstring is usually uncomfortable, but tolerable and I’ve run up to 8 miles.
    Read through the ElliptiGO Facebook page and you will read of many who were avid runners but, because of knee, hip, and/or back issues, have found solace in riding an ElliptiGO!
    But wishes! New goals/challenges (Grand Canyon) sound wonderful!

  17. Dimity, you’ve inspired me for the last four year, you inspire me today, and will continue to do so, in all your many future adventures. Thank you so much for that! Much love during this time of mourning. Best thoughts to the future.

  18. Dimity, I have had the honor and pleasure of meeting you at a few races and book readings and it has always been a thrill. I discovered Run like a mother at a time when I needed it most and I have read all of your books, and blogs and posts and podcasts and whatever else I can get my hands on. My running has been sporadic for many reasons but I know that even if I have to take a break either because of family or work or injury I still call myself a runner. I feel I have earned that title from my many miles. You have trumped my miles tenfold and I am in awe of you. You may have to say goodbye to running but you are and always will be a BAMR. Today, Tomorrow, and Always…
    Thank you for everything you do for our community.
    You are an amazing woman and in inspiration.

  19. Different parts of my heart and mind have connected with you and SBS differently, and the “Team Dimity” side has allowed me to be “good enough”, which, frankly, encompasses a lot of my running life as I have gained weight during the past 3 years. My first response was sadness, but then a bigger part of me screams that Mother Runners can be active women who run a 5 K here and there and can run it slowly and still feel pride and accomplishment for moving forward. So thanks for sharing your story; more than that for sharing you, and opening the door to a whole new group of Mother Runners to join the tribe. XOXO…

  20. Thank you for sharing your story. I can relate on so many levels (love of running/disc issues (i am 16 weeks post op cervical artificial disc replacement)). I always assumed running took strength but the reality is not running takes more strength (atleast for the time being). Either way, YOU are strong. Best wishes for great health and new adventures.

  21. My heart breaks for you, Dimity. Thank you for sharing. “Sometimes the hard decision and the right decision are the exact same thing.” Wise woman.

  22. This is a beautiful, heartfelt blog. I don’t know you, Dimity, but I do. It’s just that we haven’t met yet. But, I have always been amazed at how heartfelt your responses to BAMRs across the spectrum. You love people, in the same way that teachers love kids. And, that love is contagious. Thank you for all you have given to those in the AMR tribe. I would totally understand if you had to walk away or take a break after this news. The fact that you aren’t doing that reaffirms how amazing you are. Wishing you the best as you rearrange your dreams and workout modes. I know you will still be active, still be healthy, still be fun. You are an inspiration to so many of us. Wishing you well. ❤️

  23. Much love Dimity! I can’t imagine this, but sharing this part of your journey with the tribe is what makes AMR so special.

  24. My heart hurts for you so badly. You have shared so beautifully over the years and now. You still have wisdom for us. I am on my second running DL list in less than two years and stared at my feet and ankles today [they are my nemesis, my kryptonite] and wondered if I face a future soon of no running. It is my drug, my source of solace, the thing that holds me together, but today I realized it’s not forever. So I bought the gym membership and hope for the best. You are a strong person who has led this tribe on a great path and you will continue to do so as you find a new path. We could all benefit from your journey. Thanks so much for sharing your story and pain.

  25. Dimity– I have been listening to AMR for about 3 years now.. and I only have been a mother for 8 months. I have loved the podcast and found it relatable even before I was a mom. I would try to explain to people why I listened and I can honestly say my favorite part/episodes have always been your contribution! I was moved on numerous occasions by your honesty, humility, and heartfelt feedback to the mother running community. Reading this article about what running has been for you in your life was so moving to me… thank you for articulating so beautifully all that running is. I think the best part about running is that it gives us a gift that we can take with us long after we untie the laces– I wish you only the best in whatever life takes you and however you decide to get your endorphins next. I can definitely say I have full confidence (because I feel like I know you guys even though we have never met) that you will achieve another comeback but in a new way. I cant thank you enough for the many happy miles I have spent with you and look forward to listening to the podcast on my long run this weekend. Thank you for sharing!

  26. Running is what brought us together but it won’t keep us together. Thank you for your courage & vulnerability! Love you, Dimity! The Grand Canyon sounds amazing….I’m in!

  27. I cannot express how much Your post post affected me, Fimity. Though I have only five years running to your twenty-five, I know how much pulling the plug hurts. As I approach age sixty-five, I no longer have the stamina for running.
    You got it exactly right: sometimes the hardest decision is the right one. ❤️

  28. I don’t know what to say….excuse me as I stumble. I often wonder, too, if running is the right thing for my body. It’s only been about 5 years of consistent running for me, but it’s part of my identity now. I’m not sure who I am if I stop (even though its not a huge part of my social or professional life… it’s me). Does that make sense? I only hope that if I come to the same conclusion at some point, I will be able to be as reflective and positive about what’s to come. I am excited to hear of your adventures! You are amazing. You are inspiring. You are loved, woman! Take care of you!!! Healing and pain free thoughts – lifting you up. Stay light.

  29. Oh sweet running friend! I’ve thought about the day when I’ll have to do as you now have and I don’t look forward to it because I’ll then really need to deal with mental demons that plague me about fitness, eating and my body image. I hope that you will be able to find a new path of fitness and look forward to MANY more years of your input as one of the head BAMRs. Much love to you.

  30. I am so sorry. I wish I had the gift to write something that would give you great comfort and insight. You may not be able to run but you can still walk, hike, climb. Your feet can still take you to amazing places and breathtaking sites. When you’re ready to hike the Canyon let us know. A BAMR retreat to hike the Grand Canyon would be AMAZING!

  31. Almost 10 years ago I was told that my running days were over. And MRI confirmed serious osteoarthritis in my knee. I’ve been running, and identified as a runner, for decades. At 44 I wasn’t ready to be done. This news sent me into a pretty serious depression, not just because I couldn’t run but also the thought of not being able to be active with my then 16 month old daughter was crushing. I wanted to hike with her. I didn’t want to be cranky all the time due to the chronic pain that reminded me every second of every day what I couldn’t do. I so relate to all that you say here. Through 10 months of trying to find real answers I vacillated between telling myself that I was in denial and telling myself that I was giving up too easily. At some point I did find something that helped me, and I know that this is not always how things turn out – but now I know that my days may be numbered (well they are regardless we just may not really understand that until it’s all taken away) and so I am sort of a mad-woman trying to do the things I can do while I can still do them, always fearing that day when it will end. I wish you the best on this next journey. The fact is the new paths do revel themselves and we often don’t see them until we turn off the path we’re on.

  32. Oh, Dimity, I’m so, so, sorry to read your post. My heart aches for you. I am going through a long slow non-running period that is now almost a year long (my last 1/2 was last October – inaugural HRT with you and Coach MK) and almost immediately after I developed bronchitis, then recovery, then pneumonia, then recovery, then pneumonia. You can’t run when you can’t breathe. My lungs have been clear since June, but now I have a nagging calf injury that screams whenever I try for more than 3 miles. I keep thinking is my oh so short (only 7 years) running career already over. I detest gym workouts and running has been my solace amongst raising my kids, fighting depression, fighting asthma, weight loss, anxiety. My heart goes out to you and I send you much strong #BAMR wishes as you explore the next phase of your active life. Whatever it ends up being, we’re here to support you, as you have supported us.

  33. Aww Dimity this is heartbreaking to read. Hugs to you. You are an inspiration to all of us Mother Runners. While I am saddened by this news, I am also excited for your new adventures because you will surely have many! Looking forward to hearing all about it.

  34. I can’t even imagine the tears that fell as your wrote this. Hugs, love and support. Even though it’s heartbreaking I’m sure there are so many wonderful things around the corner for you. And glad you’re not leaving us!

  35. Aww, Dimity. I’m so sorry. I know this must be hard. But we’re all here for you! I also know that you will tackle your next challenge with all of the passion and determination that we’ve seen from you as a runner! #BAMR

  36. Dimity, I’ve often wondered how I would feel if I couldn’t run anymore. I was 40, a late starter, when I found running. After finding your first book I had the confidence to up my game. You and Sarah bring so much of yourselves to this tribe. One thing I like is that you keep it real-all of the time. We live your ups and downs and it is real. Everyone helps the next person through good and bad. I’m really sorry that you are living this reality. I thank you for sharing with us. Once again, keeping it real. I can’t wait to see what your next adventure brings. Thanks Dimity, and hugs to you!

  37. Dimity, your words are so well chosen. “For your spirit’s sake…” I’m tearful as I read this but grateful for the support you’ve shown each of us. Keep moving with joy, my friend. Much love as you let your decision settle in to relief.

  38. I am so sorry, Dimity. I wish I had the words to make this loss more bearable for you. You are so right that sometimes making the decision to stop isn’t easy but you can feel better that it is now off the table. You will be able to put your energy into other things that will make you feel good. Thank you so much for writing this; I’ve been wondering about you all summer. I hope you know that all of the tribe is behind you!!

  39. I am so sorry to hear this Dimity, but thank you for sharing. I’ve met you a few times at Expos, Running Shop parties, etc. and I have always come away inspired. About running yes, but way more than that… your example of living each day with gratitude, making the most of the days, and being refreshingly honest about the struggles of life, and how we can help each other in this great “tribe” of women! Sending good vibes you way… that you will continue to find ways to nourish your body and soul, and heal your broken spirit. And I am super glad to hear that you will be sticking with the AMR tribe as well – we are blessed by you! All the best!

  40. I cry with you this morning and loudly applaud you in my heart. Well done! Awesome! The quote “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened” came to my mind. But I would never say that to anyone. I think you have good reason to cry and you should. This is something to grieve. This post is indicative of how you can do that in a positive, helpful way. Not complaining, just lamenting, and giving us all reasons why that we can relate to. Thank you. You make us all better people. Notice I didn’t say “better runners”. You do that too but what I relate to most in what you wrote here is that what we share is not just running. As I have said many, many times before and will continue to say, “I can’t imagine my life without Another Mother Runner.” You give us something special and I am glad you will continue to give and I hope from this tribe you will continue to receive much in return.

  41. I’m sure you have a thousand feelings swirling around, but thank you for sharing this with us and thank you for your strength. For the last 9 months I have been dealing with varying degrees of sciatica related to my newly-diagnosed degenerative disc issues. I’m fighting the good fight, and we’ll see how many years (I hope years!) of running I have left in me, but you make me feel like taking another path (i.e. not running) may be do-able someday. Maybe even enjoyable. And fulfilling. The tribe is here for you. We love you.

  42. Oh Dimity! I am sorry. Running is very therapeutic to my soul as well. I had to take almost a full year off. I realize that wasn’t the same as a lifetime, I have learned other forms of movement can be just as valuable. Your attitude seems amazing. Your outlook, upbeat! May you be the encouraged from the tribe in the days, weeks and years to come! I know I will always consider you a mentor in the running world.

  43. Dimity you are an amazing human being, such a difficult to decision to have to make! But being the BAMR you are I know you’ll pull through and come out better on the other end! Almost didn’t run today because it’s pouring here in SW Michigan, but decided to dedicate my 5 miles to you! Can’t wait to hear what life brings you next!

  44. So sorry for your loss Dimity. Heartbreaking to be sure. Really glad you are going to continue to be part of the AMR family because having the support and love of this tribe can help any of us make it through any of life’s curveballs. Good luck as you discover your next passion beyond running!

  45. So i was afraid to open this when I saw the title, wondering who the author is. So sorry to see that it is you Dimity. I love AMR and everything you have done to make it such a wonderful community. It is so commendable that you will continue to contribute even though your running days may be over. You are an inspiration, even if you won’t lace up those shoes as much. Hang in there….

  46. Dimity,
    The acronyms AMR and BAMR’s were not words in my vocabulary until about 5 months ago, but once they were they were incorporated on a daily basis whether family and friends wanted to hear them or not. You have been a guiding light on my path to become a strong BAMR giving guidance, encouragement, and affirmation that I could do it even though most days I was thinking snooze button. Your recent podcast about injured BAMR’s I could feel your pain coming through and was tearing up right along with you. Reading your post today, I recognized the same pain and frustration that you have reached the end of the running trail albeit involuntarily. I am not a particularly spiritual person, but I do concede that when one path is closed another one is sure to appear. The goodwill and inspiration you have provided through guidance to so many others to the path of running and the tranquility and enjoyment it provides that your new path cannot be far off. Thank you for all you provide to the BAMR community. Without you and SBS I think I would still be seeking my zen. I cannot thank both of you enough for helping me find it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  47. Dimity you have been such an inspiration to me all through the years. I was not a mother runner when i first found your podcast, and you and sara inspired me to be a mother runner. now i am a mother runner. you also inspired me to do an ironman and that is how i met my husband and father to our girl, doing my second ironman texas in 2014. you have been such a ray of light in my life and you don’t even know me or know it. but i thank you and am excited for you. thank you for being the best role model, the one that takes care of herself!

  48. OK, I need to fangirl on you a little bit here. Your awesome past achievements have been so inspiring, but the grace, patience and fortitude you’ve displayed as you fight back after all those injuries — and your willingness to share those stories — has meant a lot to me. I’m a supremely average, 45-year old runner. Hearing about your journey, and all the tears, PT, cross-training and patience that comes with it, has made me feel less alone in my own journey.
    I’m so sorry for your loss. But you are a force, and I know you’ll continue to BAMR your way through a gajillion new adventures to come. Maybe AMR needs to become known as “Another Mother Runner/Racer/Recover-er?”

  49. I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve had to make such a difficult decision for you. Big hugs to you. Maybe you a Lyle can rekindle a romance?!

  50. Big hug, Dimity. Big, big hug. I’m so sorry, and I am also hopeful that you find your next “girlfriend” after running to be just as fulfilling. Your post-running “activity soulmate” is out there!

  51. I have no profound words, just know that you are loved fiercely by this tribe, Dimity. Please reach out to us when you need to, when you want to. We will *always* be here for you.

  52. I have nothing but tears, hugs, and empathy for you. You are a great and wonderful and giving person who has shared so much with us! I’ve had some of the same hints dropped to me by my team of folks lately, so if I have to follow you down this pathway, I’m grateful to have your words and example to guide me. Thank you for everything, you BAMR you. Once a BAMR, always a BAMR!

  53. I had tears welling in my eyes reading this, and understanding (somewhat) what you are going through, makes it that much harder to read something so definitive from someone who has inspired us all, and so many others, the last several years! I will pray for continued healing, and a newfound use for your running history and knowledge, that will bring you joy.

  54. Your timing in writing this couldn’t be better. It resonates with me as I too have been told to reconsider my running routine. I sobbed as soon as I got past the waiting room of the doctor’s office. My poor husband couldn’t even understand me as I frantically called him with the news. I have been grieving this loss of something that has been a part of me for more than half of my life. It has been a long and wonderful relationship and I am feeling a great loss. I appreciate your perspective. It gives me some important things to consider. I am eager to follow your journey as I navigate my own in what is next.

  55. Oh Dimity! My heart sank when I read the title of this and I had tears coming down my cheeks as I read it. I’m so sorry to hear this! Your words about running are so beautiful! I can relate to so many of the things you said. You are an amazing and beautiful inspiration to all of us! I know that whether you are running or not that you will continue to lead our tribe with all of the grace, humor, and love that you always do! Sending you lots of hugs!

  56. So sorry to hear this news. It doesn’t sound like it will be an easy year going forward.
    Adjusting and adapting to new routines without running by your side will be challenging but it does seem as though some burden has been lifted for you and your community of BAMR’s that you have helped developed will be there by your side as your dealing with this new path. Funny you mention Grand Canyon as that just got thrown out on a run with some Columbines. I have my 50th in April and may be talked into celebrating it with a little R2R2R with some gals. Keep it in mind 🙂 Cheers!

  57. Spoken like the true champion you are, Dimity. My heart is aching for you. So much grace here in this post. My coach always tells his athletes no matter if you need to take prolonged time off or hang up the running shoes for good, you will ALWAYS be a runner. Always a runner. Much love to you! Let us, as a tribe, not take our runs for granted. Running for you, Dimity! Thank YOU for all you have done and all you are to this community!

  58. I am so sorry Dimity. I wish there was some way to fix this back of yours. My heart aches for you. But I am confident that you will continue to use your energy to do good!

  59. Thank you for you honesty not just in this post but in all of your posts of the last many years. I look forward to more as your journey continues. The AMR community is about much more than running and I think you know how important you are to us all. I am out of running right now. Most likely temporary but I have been considering what a post running life might look like. I know that eventually, I want to be an old lady who swims. Maybe one who lifts heavy. I don’t know. At one time I could not imagine a post judo life. Now, I haven’t been on the mat in years. I still miss it but it was no longer serving my body or my spirit. You too will find a new path because you are at heart a BAMR and that is where it counts.

  60. My heart goes out to you Dimity, and I found myself crying right along with you. I haven’t heard these words yet, but I fear that I will soon. With two very bad knees, I still hold out hope. After meniscus surgery in May on the right knee, I tried to be patient, but I now realize I rushed back because I so wanted to be with my friends. Then issues arose with the other knee – loss of too much cartilage. I’ll get a brace for that knee on Tuesday and I’m hoping that will help. I’ve actually been doing some running the last couple weeks. While I run, I feel very little pain. But afterwards — oh watch out. My mind tells me, oh suck it up, tomorrow you’ll feel better. But I know I can’t sustain that. I pray that each day will be better and your acceptance of the situation will increase. I, like you, will be on the sidelines cheering. The hardest will be during Twin Cities weekend. I’ve run the 10-mile for the past three years. This year I will cheer as loud as I can for my friends. But I really long to be beside them. Hang in there and thanks for sharing with us. You will always have my support.

  61. Wow Dimity, I am again amazed at your strength and ability to share all of that with us, your BAMRs. I am so freakin’ mad and sad for you, too. Just so f-in sad. Good choice now to rest and recover, and stay strong physically with other forms of exercise, and mentally by reaching out here to all of us. I wish you many pain free days, and hope to see you out there in the future for the “occasional 5k” as the Dr said. (maybe) Or, Maybe some road biking races are in your future. BAMBs…sound catchy? (Kinda rhymes with Damn, as in a good word for your back right now). Stay strong!!

  62. Oh Dimity- I’m so sad and mourning this loss with you. I keep thinking, “It can’t be!” But I guess I am still in the denial phase. It sounds like you have moved to acceptance.
    Love to you always!!! <3

  63. Oh Dimity I am so sorry you had to hear those words. May you find solace ad happiness in other ways for your body to move. You have been a great inspiration to all of us BAMRs and will continue to inspire us with your great words of wisdom.

  64. Thanks for sharing, Dimity. I too just came to the realization that my running career is over. I’ve been feeling lost – what do I do without a tribe? Can I still listen / be a part of AMR? Where do I fit? Hugs to you. I hope you find your next adventure soon – and buckets full of peace along the way.

  65. Thank you for this brave and beautiful post, which seems as if you wrote it just for me. My injuries are similar (spinal stenosis in three cervical discs, three deteriorated discs in my lower back) and like you, I have tried everything to deny or ignore what my body was so obviously trying to tell me. I’ve just turned 58 and have been running since I was 20. I was never a great runner, or a fast runner, or a competitive runner, but I ran the Austin half in 2010 at the age of 50 and I will always have the sense of confidence and accomplishment I gained through that experience. As John Bingham says, “The miracle is not that I finished. The miracle is that I had the courage to start.” I hate not running. I hate the ten pounds I have gained. I hate that I don’t feel I can wear my “running gear” or race shirts any longer, as they make me feel like a fraud. I was never a “real” runner to begin with and now I am not even a bad runner. My physical therapist has patiently explained in great detail what continuing to run would do to my body, and I believe her. Now we both have to figure out what’s next. Here’s wishing us both “the courage to start” something new. Again, thank you for this post, which felt like a message from the universe written just to me. Hugs from Texas!

  66. Thank you, Dimity for letting us all in. This is , but one of the most raw and honest things I have ever read. As I finished a short run that I didn’t want to do, then read this, i cried tears of relief for my run being done and for your goodbye to running. Thank you from all of us.

  67. When I first read your title I thought maybe it was from your appointment 9 months ago when you stopped running to heal your injury. As I continued on, I realized…no this is for real. I heart aches for your loss Dimity. I am not sure I could handle the news as well as you. You are an amazing lady, role model, leader and I am so proud to have experienced running via Train Like A Mother Club. It’s an amazing community because of YOU and your staff. I look forward to more fun with you right there with me! You’re amazing and I am sending you lots of hugs.

  68. Oh, Dim, I feel your pain. I heard those same doctor’s words – and ignored them – for years too. Until I couldn’t anymore and stopped running, probably at just about your age now. I ran oh so slowly on a trail over summer vacation – because the trail was just so sweet and no one was around – and regretted it for the following week. But you’re doing the right thing. And knowing you, I’m confident you’ll throw yourself into something else with equal passion and it will brighten your life. Sending love and hugs.

  69. Tears streaming down….you are the kindest, most bad-assedness woman I have ever come in contact with. I can only wish you joy and peace in your adventures-life is meant to be lived, and not running seems to be the right decision (sucky decision, but right decision) and you’ll want YEARS of adventure. Boo on not running, but you got this! You are stronger than you know! I have a wrist wrap that says “my body is trying to kill me, what’s your super power?”

  70. I also had tears as I read this. This is such a personal, difficult decision. I really hope that after a mourning period, you are able to find something new to inspire you, and I know I will be excitedly waiting to hear what journey you choose to follow, as will all of us here. And if Grand Canyon means Rim to Rim, you can count me in! That is totally on my bucket list 🙂

  71. I read your post with tears streaming down my face. I too have had to make the decision to not be a runner anymore after my doctor gave me a similar speech. I have spent months feeling the relief that it’s over and the angst of giving up something that I loved. You are not alone. Hugs!

  72. Oh Dim, I’m so sorry for this loss and also so impressed with your perspective about the situation. You will always be a BAMR, no matter how many miles you do or don’t do.

  73. Huge hugs. I read the first few sentences – thought wait is this what I think- looked up at the byline and knew I couldn’t read it just then. It caused me to tear up in understanding and sympathy. Sometimes bodies just don’t cooperate with your plans as much as you want them to. Sounds like you have a great attitude and as you say sometimes knowing for sure helps you move on. Thanks for such a powerful and honest post. Here’s to the new chapter in your life!

  74. Such a tough and sad decision, but the best one for your health! I’ve seen friends transition from avid running to not runnin at all, and after a grieving period they have found new fun activities. But the grief is real at first…

  75. Oh Dimity…this was so hard to read! I just don’t even know what to say other than thank you. Thank you for starting this amazing AMR tribe and for always being there. I am so, so glad you aren’t going anywhere! Sending lots of love and hugs your way!

  76. “she is the cool side of my pillow” – so perfectly put Dimity. You will continue to be an inspiration and guiding light for so many of us. Thank you and blessing and peace to you.

  77. Oh Dimity. I am so sorry. I feel like we are real life friends and my heart hurts for you. I look forward to hearing about your new adventures and want to thank you for so many smiles that your voice has brought me on my own runs. I will always be a Dimity fangirl.

  78. Dimity, your prose is eloquent and makes me value what you do and say even more. The fact that running personifies you means that you can take that feeling and transfer it to hiking or any other physical activity. You know what sport brings to your life. The past 3 years I started lifting and found that I can truly get in touch with my muscles, ligaments, and tendons if I focus. The trick is to really focus! When you carry weights or any kind of load around it’s vital to not lose your “why” and space out. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, as always. Please read Katie from “Runs for Cookies.” She has recently re-evaluated the space where running resides in her life. Katie blogs several days a week. Many happy miles!!!

  79. Reading the title alone made my stomach drop; these are the words I fear hearing before too long (back issues as well). Couldn’t help the tears as I read-and then reread-your words. As I told SBS at Ogden this year, Running, and specifically AMR, stepped in and saved me when I needed something to pull me through a time period that I didn’t know how to cope with.
    You are a shining example in so many things, and here again you step up wth grace. I am excited to see where this next turn in your path leads and what great adventures lie in store!
    (I’ve also started planning Grand Canyon next year!)

  80. Echoing all of the previous comments to say that you are amazing and you will be forever one Bad Ass Mother Runner! You (and Sarah) gave me the courage to start running by listening to your early podcasts while I walked at lunch and helped me find my running tribe (MRTT). Thank you for everything that you give to the running community and I look forward to the new adventures that await you!

  81. You are wise beyond your years and your honesty with yourself and with us is genuinely appreciated. You know we all love and adore you!!

  82. You brave, badass woman. Even if you are not running (right now) you will always be A Runner.

    Do not discount the advances in medicine and how quickly these are happening. We live in the perfect time where the BabyBoomers are demanding better spinal treatments and I am ABSOLUTELY SURE a new treatment/surgical procedure will be along in the next few years that will return you to running.

    I know the horrors of long-term injuries and the mental debilitation that came with mine. I felt Less. “Wow, I’ve never seen Achilles that are a second away from rupturing. And you have two at the same time that are gonna blow”. Two days of the antibiotic LevaQuin were all it took to nearly-rupture both Achilles and keep me in ortho boots on-off for 3 years. (A spiffy look while mowing the lawn in shorts. Google Maps captured me in this glory which is why my house photo is now blocked.) I was told I’d never run again. But I am thrilled to proved them wrong.

    Prepare yourself for a huge hug when I meet you in Spokane!

  83. Wow! What a beautfifully written memoir about your life as a runner! You have such a way with words and I applaud you for listening to your body. I am proud of you for taking the stand for your family, other AMR’s, and YOURSELF! You are so smart Dimity and SO BLESSED! What a legacy of running and what a true show of dedication, frustration, love, and preservance. You are setting a great example to us all. When God closes the door on one thing in our life, he always leaves a window open. I am excited to see how HE uses you. Thank you for your continued dedication to AMR and TLAM. You are an inspriation to me and so many others. Keep shining that light Dimity – it is very BRIGHT!

  84. Dimity, being such a badass helped you to make that decision, which happens to be the right one for you at this time. I applaud you making the hard decision and accepting after much effort and pain. I am sorry that you had to make this decision, but we are not getting any younger and you want your body to feel well as you age. I’m much older so I think I can say this… 🙂 I hope that you keep the peace with this decision and I look forward to your advice, coaching and just camaraderie in the future……all the best to you BAMR!!

  85. Oh, Dimity, I’m in tears for you too. But you said it all , ‘have to admit: I also feel lighter than I have in months. Sometimes the hard decision and the right decision are the exact same thing. When it is finally made, you can’t help but exhale relief.’ that means it’s the right decision, truly. We all love and respect you, BAMR, and hope you can find that badass feeling with another sport not so hard on your body. Lots of love, KPP

  86. Dimity I am so so sorry! Getting to meet you in Philly is one of the highlights of my running. I’m so grateful for all of your support and encouragement and everything you do for the mother runner community.

  87. Dimity, we all love you. You have been an inspiration to thousands of women. Meeting you a few years ago in MSP was like meeting a rockstar! Your energy is contagious and your spirit is amazing. I applaud you for listening to your body…something us women are not usually good it (ie..I ran with a femoral stress fracture for months before deciding to go in..10 weeks of crutches and months of PT later..I wish I would have listened sooner). You are one BADASS MOTHER RUNNER! I hope to see you in the crowds, cheering us all on!

  88. You are such an inspiration. While we all know how running makes us feel, it is most definitely not all we are. New adventures await you and, while I can feel your sorrow, I look forward to seeing the new challenges you take on. Big hugs to you!

  89. Oh, my heart Dimity. You and SBS are such a part of the mother runner I’ve become the last 7 years. I just know there is so much good still to come, but my thoughts are with you where you are right now.

  90. What an amazing, heartfelt post. The running chapter may be closed, but you’ll always have the support, love, and cheers from all of us BAMRs whatever your next chapter is.

  91. Dimity, my heart breaks for you. This tribe loves you and appreciates all the support you have given us. Now let us support you. You are an amazing!

  92. I’m literally sitting at my desk crying for you! I am so very sorry. In this day and age, 25 years in any profession is pretty damn admirable and calls for celebration through retirement. I have full faith that you will find a purpose for this in the next chapter of your life, wherever that may take you. Think of the money you’ll save on running clothes, shoes and race fees! And you can sleep in now!!!!

  93. “Raising my hand and hoping Dimity reads my reply” Of all emails and blog posts I have skipped in the past two years this one I read not once but twice. I can completely relate. August of 2015 I wound up in the ER begging for an MRI because I was in such pain I could not even put my bra on.I found out I needed emergency surgery due to a ruptured disk. I needed Anterior Cervical Disk Fusion C5-C7. I had bone spurs and severe stenosis. They labeled me as Disk Degeneration Disease with no definitive reason. At age 42 I had recently started running 5 years previously I asked the question “Did I do this to myself?” I had participated in over 20 Half Marathons, 1 Full and numerous other races I asked again WHY? and would I be able to continue? I found a great surgeon who agreed to pick up the pieces and I did two more Halfs within just a few months after surgery. March of this year I started having the numbness again and worried it was coming back. An xray told me I had herniated another disk and needed to start physical therapy again. Symptoms subsided after a few months but not after I found out that I showed mild annular bulging and stenosis in C7-T1. My doctor told me he did not recommend another surgery which would require a multi level fusion. He said I must avoid this at all costs. At that point I decided I had a good run in my five years of participating in 82 events and threw in the towel quietly. It was upsetting when many people kept asking me when I was going to register for another race. I decided I would just run moderately for fitness. A treadmill run of 3-5 miles a couple times a week and some cardio/weight classes will just have to do so I can my weight and overall health. I am still finding my path to maintain, I still have days I ache in more ways than one but again the overall goal is to be healthy. That is why I started this path to begin with right?

  94. Aww Dimity, I know this sucks big time for you. But you are wise to listen to your body. You are still young and want to be healthy and able to be active for a long time to come. I know this decision was so difficult for you but you’ve chosen what’s best for your overall health. Thank you for everything you’ve put into AMR, and everything you’ll continue to show us through a new lens. If you are ever able to, we Indiana BAMR’s would LOVE to have you cheer us on at a race here! You’re welcome any time! <3

  95. Dimity – I wish I could give you a monster hug right now, then sit down for an awesome microbrew. We would toast your amazing running career, talk about the highs and lows and the amazing tribe you have assembled and then all of the adventures that await. Sometimes, well most of the time, the decision seems impossible until it is made. I am glad the lightness has followed even though we know there will still be moments of dark as you explore and find your new outlet. But you will find it! The unknowns crush us, the knowns we can take head on even when they are not the knowns we would like. You are, and will continue to be, an inspiration for so many! Much love to you!!!! – Britt

  96. I’m so sorry to read this, Dimity. Crying tears for you here in Massachusetts and wishing you peace. I’m so relieved to hear you’re not leaving AMR world. We would be lost without you. You’ve been such a major influence on all of us, and me personally. Much love to you.

  97. I am so sorry, Dimity…I am crying reading this. I am sure it was incredibly hard to finally make that decision. I know you will always continue to be a major inspiration to all of us mother runners!

  98. I am so sorry, Dimity…I am crying reading this. I am sure it was incredibly hard to finally make that decision. I know you will always continue to be a major inspiration to all of us mother runners!

  99. Dear Dimity:

    I am so sorry for your loss. You have already touched so many women around the country and you will be a beautiful example of how to move on and still be active after this loss, (I know you will touch many more and I bet will in the process help many more). Sending a virtual hug (you have to bend down as I am the incredible shrinking woman, I am now under 5 feet, darn that osteoporosis).

    Take care and know that you are cared for all over this country.

    Dear Dimity:

    I am so sorry for your loss. You have already touched so many women around the country and you will be a beautiful example of how to move on and still be active after this loss, (I know you will touch many more and I bet will in the process help many more). Sending a virtual hug (you have to bend down as I am the incredible shrinking woman, I am now under 5 feet, darn that osteoporosis).

    Take care and know that you are cared for all over this country.

    cathy

  100. I’m stunned! A little heart broken I have to admit. You are such an inspiration and the voice of reason I can hear in my head from listening to so many (maybe too many) podcasts. But my mind quickly switched to all the fitness activities/secrets you will discover after running and just how strong you are as an individual. So many times I think I hear my own clock ticking, so adaption is a must. Hugs to you Dimity as you transform first.

  101. Bloody hell Dimity what a gut wrenching, beautifully written post. Whatever’s next: you’ve got it. But of a bucket list adventure for something different on a bike check out Dirty Kanza ride- it’s all sorts of special ( it’s my husbands ultimate and my one day). Also, if you feel like a trip down under, trail walker 100km events are here!!!
    Look forward to more of your writing. Thanks for sharing

  102. This was such a beautifully written post on such a tough subject. I am heartbroken for you, Dimity. The BAMR community will completely support you as you have done for us.

  103. Oh, Dimity, I’m so sorry. I hope it doesn’t sound condescending to say that I’m proud of you for making what has to be one of the hardest decisions of your life. As someone whose running came to me later in life and was encouraged, shaped, and enlivened by AMR, I am so glad that you’ll still be near your tribe now. We can’t wait to see what your next chapter of physical activity looks like and will be cheering you on all the way. Hugs!

  104. Oh Dimity! I am so sorry. Tears are pouring down my face in sympathy and empathy. Sympathy because I know how much the loss of this dear life time companion means to you; empathy because I fear I’m on that path as well. Thank you for your honesty, vulnerability and hope. Know that you have folks in your corner sending up all of the love and hope for you as you start this next phase of your active journey.

  105. Oh, Dimity, that just sucks. Not because you can’t RUN, but because YOU can’t run. Being a grown up sucks sometimes. I know you’ll find a new love that fills those gaps and agrees with your back.

    Fwiw, my husband’s passion & job (baseball) are intertwined with his physical ability and he has 3 degenerative discs (his from twisting rather than pounding – apparently weak discs are pretty much screwed no matter what) so I have seen how hard this is. Your hubs can call me if he needs to commiserate- it’s actually hard on us, too, but certainly not the same type of hard. Good news is that he figured out a way to be in the game without being the one doing it – he is a pitching and hitting instructor and loves watching the kids make progress. You’ve already got that baked in, so you are ahead of the game in some way. Much love to you as you find out who post-running Dimity is – I bet she’s fantastic.

  106. Oh Dimity. My heart breaks for you but …. but I hope and pray that the hard decision and the right decision and the feeling of lightness you’re experiencing as a result bring you some peace. You have been and will continue to be a beacon to so many mother runners. I love your writing and so look forward to hearing your voice on podcasts. I’m so sorry your body isn’t cooperating, but am proud to see you heed the advice that will hopefully free you from chronic pain and injuries. I dedicate my next miles to you. Thanks for including us in your story.

  107. Dimity, what a beautiful eulogy. I’m so very sorry you’ve had to make this decision, and glad to know it’s giving you relief.

    I always remember seeing a message board post from an older runner, “Someday we will all be cyclists, and then, swimmers.” I hope that you have many happy miles of hiking, biking, swimming. . . staying active in whatever way works for your body, and brings you joy.

  108. Finite, Thank you (again) for your eloquent honesty. This is such a bittersweet post. Bitter due to no longer be able to run, but sweet that you are able to start to embrace the next phase. Im sending you a large BAMR hug, and sending you really positive vibes. You are an amazing role model in so many ways, and I’m grateful for all you’ve given this community generally and me personally. Thank you and good luck!

  109. My heart goes out to you Dimity. You can be my cheerleader at a race any day. You have inspired women everywhere to “Don’t think. Just go”. Your race reports have inspired me to push myself beyond what I thought I could do and I thank you for that. And I don’t think I’m the only one out there that says “when my friend Dimity became an Ironman” when talking about Badass women they know. You will always be a great support system. Your tribe ALWAYS loves you.

  110. Dimity, I’m so sorry. I,like everyone else here, cries for your loss. bAMRs can bike and swim and cheer and are fighters. We are with you!

  111. Aww, Dimity, sweaty eyes reading this! i am sorry, but you make the choices for you, and the relief you feel makes it sound like you did.
    Running is something you did, not who you are, you are always the BAMR Dimity!

  112. Oh Dimity, I have tears in my eyes for you, but as a PT, I so appreciate when the whole long-term picture is more in focus. Prayers as you transition your mindset and find joy in the other physical activity. Glad that you will still be around here sharing stories and advice. 🙂

  113. Tears reading this, Dimity. Your tribe is here and we will love you through this. You are an amazing lady in every way, and I know you will continue to be amazing and inspiring as you work through this change. ❤️❤️❤️

  114. I’m getting teary, here, Dimity. Thanks for sharing this with us, as you always share so much. Glad you’re not going anywhere, because this tribe you and Sarah built isn’t, either.

  115. I felt this so deeply, I too have come back after many injuries. One included a back surgery for a chicken finger sized disk bulge. There is another disk in there that is unhappy too that showed itself on an MRI. Keep up with that rocking attitude, we can sweat in many other ways I have learned.

  116. I have always loved your honesty…about life, mental health, running, about being a mom. Your passion for running and the encouragement you have provided to countless women is amazing. And I think underlying all of that is your sincere desire to see each woman / mother succeed in whatever way she can, however she defines success. Your writing is so eloquent and resonates with me and so many others. Thanks again for your moving and transparent post. Hugs to you!

  117. {{{{{{{Dimity}}}}}}} I can feel your heart breaking in your words. So here are some words with the goal of giving you hope and raising your spirits: When I was 17, I slipped a disc in my back that pressed against my sciatic nerve in the L4, 5, S1 area. I went to doctor after doctor. Each one said that I’d never be able to run again and that I would never be able to carry children – with a back as bad as mine so young. I stopped running and bought a bike. I rode that bike everywhere. I pumped iron. I swam (I hate swimming). Every year I’d try to run, and after 3 days or so, I’d feel the pain return. And I would have to stop. Until one year the pain didn’t return. I kept running. I’ve run two marathons, two half-marathons, birthed three children, have run countless miles. I’m 53 now and I still run. So…never say never. We love you, Dimity. You have a HUGE support team in the AMR community – that you and Sarah built. Hugs to you…

  118. Dimity, I am so sorry to read this. Now I’m crying. While I hate that you are on this road to rediscovery, (is that a word?) there is no one who I am more certain will get to the other side than you. Big hug and hang in there! Xoxo

  119. I’m in tears reading this. I hope you can feel the collective love, hugs and positive energy sent out to you. I am looking forward to seeing what adventures you get yourself and us BAMRs into in the future.

  120. I am looking forward to watching you as you share new adventures with us. A long, healthy, active life is what we all want. I know you will continue to inspire women everywhere.

  121. Dimity, what a beautiful love story! Thank you for sharing. I wish you healing and peace as you dream up your next adventures. Thank you for all you have done and do to inspire.

  122. Oh, Dimity my heart aches for you. As y life has taken a chaotic turn recently and running has been put on the back burner I’ve realized that activity is key to my mental health and walking gets it done. I hope you find something to fill the running shaped hole in your life. You continue to inspire us mother runners. I’m picturing the tall Russian Olympic coaches putting their heart and soul into the 4’9″ gymnasts and you can’t tell me they don’t feel every flip, leap, and landing.

  123. Dimity, thank you for sharing this beautiful love letter to running with us — and sharing the gritty reality that some of us are sure to face (and some are currently facing) along with you. I send you love and also cannot wait to hear what your adventurous and entrepreneurial brain is cooking up next. I am totally in for the Grand Canyon!

  124. Sending hugs your way. You are an inspiration and hope you know that you will continue to be. Your wit, honesty and knowledge are what got me running at the age of 43. Those qualities are who you are with or without running. As I get older I feel my running days will not be what they were in the beginning so you’ll be just the motivator needed to point me in the direction of where to go next. We got this!

  125. So sorry it has come to this. Emotional post! You keep us strong and motivated and I have no doubt we will all be here doing the same for you as you find your next path!!

  126. Dimity, thank you for sharing so much with us. You are one of my biggest sources of inspiration, and this post definitely has tears running down my face, too. You are brave to make such a tough decision, so I’m glad you are finding some relief in it, too. Thank you for taking care of yourself, because I know that inspires others to do the same. Sending hugs BAMR love your way.

  127. Sending love your way for this honest and touching post. Such a tough decision but a wise one. I am confident you will find a new workout partner to be your friend, antidepressant, confidence builder, and everything you need it to be. We all need that in our lives. Thank you for you sharing and for creating this amazing community.

  128. Thank you for sharing this beautifully written post. Your love for running lead you to build this incredible community that provides inspiration,support and guidance to so many people every day. Your last few paragraphs are so true. Running may have started this whole community but it has developed into so much more and you and Sarah are the driving forces in this incredible group.

  129. Sending you many hugs, Dimity! And so thankful to you for creating this community – along with Sarah 🙂 – I’ve learned much and continue to learn so much from you. Hugs again <3

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