Mother Runners of the Month: Heather Jauquet + Heather Clark
Each month, we celebrate two athletes monthly in our #motherrunnner community.
[because sports awards aren’t just for youth soccer]
One athlete participates in our Many Happy Miles program and the other one is in a Train Like a Mother Club program: nothing like vicariously living through workout specifics, training cycles, and upcoming (virtual) races, right?
More importantly, they both epitomize the traits that keep us all moving forward: perspective, diligence, badassery, flexibility, and grit.
HEATHER JAUQUET
Location: Gaithersburg, Maryland
Kids: 4 kids (ages 14, 11, 9, and 5). Having four kids attending four different schools has been interesting, watching them navigate distance learning. We have a beautiful senior cat named Boh who was given to us for re-homing and he’s been the best pandemic pet.
What’s your running story?
I started running after the birth of my third child which was about nine years ago. I wish I had discovered it before the birth of my first child. I think it would have been instrumental in helping me navigate postpartum depression better.
My first big race was the Baltimore Running Festival where I ran the marathon relay with family which solidified my love for running. On the way to our leg of the race, I met a woman on the bus who suggested I run a local half-marathon the next spring. The power of suggestion led to me contacting an old college friend for advice on long distance running. After she encouraged me to go for it, my running journey truly began.
I was given the orange Train Like a Mother book as a birthday present to help me prepare and fell into our amazing Another Mother Runner community of fellow #motherrunners. Nine years later, I’m still lacing up.
Two years ago, I found a love for trail running and with the same friend who encouraged me to try for that first half-marathon, I completed my first trail half. My favorite accomplishment is getting eight of my nieces and nephews and two of my children to join my brothers-in-law and me to run the annual 4th of July Arbutus Firecracker 10K in 2019.
While life has been a roller coaster, especially this year, running has remained my constant and has brought unexpected and wonderful friendships.
Why did you join Many Happy Miles?
I had participated in the Stride through the Holiday groups for a few years and loved the camaraderie. I was thrilled to find the same type of encouragement and “consistent, not perfect” mentality with Many Happy Miles, but have it all year long.
I love the monthly workouts and without Dimity, I probably would give strength circuits the side-eye and pretend I didn’t see them. But doing the workout with Dimity gives me the accountability I need to incorporate the workouts and yes, I’m definitely stronger.
Most importantly, having an already established virtual running community through Many Happy Miles (complete with monthly workouts and a personal cheering section) has helped me stay active throughout my HER2+ breast cancer diagnosis and treatment this year.
Best workout in Many Happy Miles so far:
Anything that involves swimming is my favorite workout. It brings back fond childhood memories of swimming on a summer swim team.
The music intervals are a close second on favorite workouts. And if I have to like strength circuits the #5anddone are perfect for me.
Hardest workout in Many Happy Miles so far:
Yoga. Don’t hate me.
My body just does not bend easily and I always feel like the tin man when trying to maneuver my body into the right configurations. Many thanks to Brenda for making it accessible and easy for this inflexible gal.
Upcoming races?After the pandemic and cancer treatment, I would really like to tackle a 50K trail race…but maybe I should try a marathon first?
When I run, I feel: accomplished.
Bonus amazing thing about Heather:
Before being notified of being October’s Many Happy Miler of the Month, she had published this online article about Many Happy Miles, “Just Keep Running: How a virtual running group keeps me running through a cancer diagnosis and a pandemic.”
Heather’s description of her love of the Many Happy Miles community:
“They [Many Happy Miles] provide a dedicated social media group to ask questions, gain clarification, and to get support when needed.
The best part of this group: zero judgement, only support.
Whenever I didn’t feel like lacing up, someone would post the workout of the day or ask a question.
Sometimes, someone else would post, “I’m posting this here for accountability,” and within minutes the thread is flooded with fellow mama runners posting positive comments. Honestly, if it weren’t for this group, I’d give up social media.
I belong to several other running groups and this is the one group where I have never felt judged for being slow, for being overweight, or for being unable to do all the workouts. We all have our personal goals.”
HEATHER CLARK
Program: Heart + Sole: Introduction to Running by Heart Rate
Location: Los Ranchos, New Mexico
Kids: twins Brendan and Charlotte (17) and Nora (13), two dogs (a black lab and a Havanese), one cat, and four chickens. Whew!
What’s your running story?
In a word, perseverance.
I started running in 2013, but then had surgery, an ankle sprain, and then a broken ankle and more surgery to fix that.
I restarted running in 2017. I thought my body was broken, so I cried when I finished my first Duke City Half-Marathon in 2018 because I never thought I could run 13 miles! I hope this gives people hope because if I can do it, so can you.
I’ve now run four half marathons injury free. The last one was Sedona in February 2020, and I plan to run more half marathons and hopefully my first marathon after in-person races return.
What led you to choosing the Heart + Sole: Intro to Running by Heart Rate and why do you enjoy it?
I’ve always been curious about heart rate training and when the Great Pause caused my main motivation — races — to go away, this was a way to stay motivated by getting interested in something new.
I also enjoy being a bit nerdy looking at all the data and comparing runs.
Best workout in Heart + Sole: Intro to Running by Heart Rate so far:
I find the drill runs go by so quickly.
There was also one long run on a gentle downhill earlier this summer with just the right music and my heart rate stayed in the prescribed range! Wonderful! We all have those, don’t we?
Most challenging workout in Heart + Sole: Intro to Running by Heart Rate so far:
Due to the pandemic, quarantine in New Mexico, and some travel due to a family emergency, I had to drop out of the Intro training for two weeks. When I came back, state law required us to wear masks while running. In those conditions, that first heart rate zone test was rough!
After completing the Heart + Sole Intro program, Heather began the Heart + Sole: 10K program.
Do you have a goal race for the Heart + Sole 10K program? If so, what race is it?
I’m looking for a socially distanced 10K race. If I can’t find one, I plan to race a bike path along the Rio Grande River.
What was your goal for your 10K?
I’ve only raced one 10K before I started running half marathons, so I’m shooting for a 10K PR. I still need to figure out what a realistic, yet challenging, time will be.
When I run, I feel: Strong and stress-free, and like I might be around long enough to meet my great grandkids.
Seven Months Into the Pandemic and I’m…No Longer Trying to Get My Kids to Exercise
We’re seven or so months into this little thing called COVID-19, and we’re wondering:
How is your life and running during the pandemic?
We’re collecting essays from the Another Mother Runner community about life and running during the pandemic during the month of October, and we’d love to hear from you.
Here are the guidelines:
—These are not essays about how you’re doing the same thing every day. Nor are they politically oriented, a call to wear—or not wear—masks, or anything about conspiracy theories.
—Instead, Seven Months: My Life and Running During the Pandemic is an entry into a short, detail-rich story that has some kind of universal theme or resonance.
—The story doesn’t have to be about running, nor does it have to have a happy ending—it can be funny, empathetic, enlightening, scary, whatever.
—500 word limit. (No exceptions!)
—We will run selected essays on this website, in our twice-weekly Another Mother Runner Newsletter, and on our Facebook page.
—All entries up for consideration must be received by October 11, 2020; send essay (again: 500 words max) and a picture of yourself (either a head shot or a vertical one of you running) to bamr@anothermotherrunner.com with subject line: Seven Months.
Guilt is easy to come by these days. 10 hours of screen time a day? Check. The planned birthday trip to Japan cancelled? Check. Choosing between two bad options for school? Check.
Equally abundant is joy at what we have been given: Time as a family; ice cream runs at 2 p.m.; projects long delayed now completed. Every day I strive to focus on the abundance.
But guilt doesn’t fight fairly. It’s like a 200-pound gorilla boxing against a lightweight. Guess who wins?
Today’s gorilla takes the shape of children who refuse to move their bodies. When the pandemic started and Minnesota was collectively sequestered, my kids each went for a short walk with me almost every day. Then a couple of times a week. Then randomly.
Now…never.
As a runner, I keep my depression, emotions, soul-sucking-pandemic-pit-of-
My children spend all day in their bedrooms on technology; I am not exaggerating. All.Damn.Day. Th
BUT/AND…my children are 16 and 11. We do not parent by dictatorship. They are independent people who get to decide what happens with their bodies.
BUT/AND…I worry about their depression and anxiety, about their atrophying muscles and unconditioned hearts.
BUT/AND…when do I pull parenting rank and demand movement?
I tried focusing on what’s in it for them. I thought my 11 year-old would rise to the challenge of a mile a day She could track a streak on the calendar and sport her swanky running gear. Nope.
My 16 year old might find someone/way/thing that will convince her thatmovement will only help her constant growing pains and aching knees. Nope.
I have invited them to join me. I have quoted Coach Liz quoting Sir Isaac Newton so many times, the eye roll now starts before the fourth word is out of my mouth, “An object in motion…” I’ve tried, “We can do a mile and I’ll drop you back off at home.” “How about just a quick walk around the loop?” They have yet to take me up on it.
Why won’t they listen to me and just do what I say?
So now I have decided to replace guilt with inspiration. I keep lacing up. I announce my mileage at dinner. I make sure Girlchild and AlsoGirl know when I am meeting up with BRFs for a long run. I say out loud, “I need a mental reset; heading out for a run.” I do my strength training in the middle of the living room and invite any interested parties to join me (Dimity is a celebrity in our house).
And, if nothing else, I figure that gorilla will throw on some running shoes and keep me company.
Read more Seven Months into the Pandemic essays.
#435: Urban, Suburban, Rural: Running Environs
Sarah flies solo to talk with three women runners about running in different settings: urban (Chicago), suburban (Chicago ’burb), and rural (Minnesota dairyland). Laugh, and learn:
- the sights they see on their daily runs (including one admission of “scenery doesn’t matter to me”);
- how everyone (including SBS) chooses their routes;
- bathroom + water break options in the city and suburbs;
- running surface options—and why it matters; and,
- the ties that bind us all no matter where we run!
Ellison joins Sarah in the intro to talk about her cross-country move back to her hometown in South Carolina. (The books E. recommends: Caste by Isabel Wilkerson and American Royals by Katherine McGee) Sarah starts gabbing with the first guest at 16:11.
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Boston Champ Lisa Rainsberger on How to Stay Motivated
Lisa Rainsberger crossing the finish line in Boston; her 1985 victory stood as the only American female win until Des Linden broke the tape in 2018.
By Cathy Engstrom
Lisa Rainsberger is no stranger to disappointment. True, she won the Boston Marathon in 1985, the Chicago Marathon in 1988 and 1989, and the Twin Cities Marathon in 1993. But Lisa is well-acquainted with heartache and derailed plans, including her Olympic dreams as a swimmer during the 1980 boycott of the Olympics games in Moscow.
When Covid-19 restrictions hit, Lisa’s roles as mom and coach were especially stretched. She was dealing with the losses of an NCAA Indoor Championship meet for Katie, her All-American daughter and the high school senior year traditions for her son, the multiple events that were cancelled for all the athletes she trains, and her own personal running plans, including a long-awaited trip for Hood to Coast.
With so many epic races on hold, and the crisp, fall days passing by without much fanfare—and the temptation to eat ice cream every single day while staring at my running clothes hanging off the back of a chair—I reached out to Lisa to see if she had any words of advice.
What would a Boston Marathon champion and coach tell us mortals to do?
Turns out there’s no magic genie in a Nuun tube. Marathon winners aren’t hoarding secret methods the rest of us know nothing about. Instead, Lisa offered simple, practical tips that will help get you out the door and make fall races feel a little less humdrum:
Allow yourself to grieve. “When Hood to Coast was cancelled, we were all disappointed,” Lisa shared with me. “We thought about deferring to the next year, but most of us had uncertainties about our schedules for 2021. We were doubly disappointed when we were told Hood to Coast would not refund the $2,000 registration fee. Eventually, we were able to ‘sell’ our registration to another team, but not without a lot of work. We did not get together as a group for any kind of virtual event. I am personally holding out to race when we can do so in person.”
Lisa Rainsberger in coaching mode—and loving it.
Set different goals for yourself. “My running goals this year have certainly taken an entirely new look. I started the year training for Boston with the goal of sub 4 hours, run Hood to Coast, and stay fit enough to keep up with the youth runners that I coach. Now my goals are based around staying healthy, getting consistent runs in throughout the week, and using my dogs as a reason to get out the door. They have a great way of guilting me if my running shoes don’t get put on.”
Look for a new training group in your area. “Small groups of socially distanced runners are still getting together. Check for groups on Facebook or at your local running store to see if there are any new people for you to explore training with. New runners can add an element of challenge and excitement, like the feeling you get when you pin on a race bib.”
BAMR Meg and her ardent fan base celebrate a strong finish in a recent Love the Run event.
Create your own spectators. “If the race you signed up for has been changed to a virtual event, get few of your runner friends to join you and some family and friends to support you. Create aid stations, cheer stations, and finish line tape!”
Design a racecourse that works for you. “I recently ran portions of the virtual Boston Marathon with a friend. We planned a route to be an easy and favorable course—meaning NO HILLS! Running at altitude is hard enough, so we decided to run a downhill dirt trail. No traffic concerns, plenty of portable restrooms along the route, and it was close to home. The most interesting aspect of the course were the cows that cheered (or rather “mooed”) at certain sections.”
Run point-to-point. “Arrange to have someone drop you off somewhere and race a point-to-point route. You can do this for your workouts, as well. It gets you out the door, and there is only one way home!”
Retail therapy. “We bought an Airstream travel trailer! Since we are approaching retirement and have 4 kids and 5 grandkids, we decided to be the fun grandparents and travel to see our family. Hoping to take the Airstream to Eugene next summer for the US Olympic Track and Field Trials.”
Don’t worry if an Airstream is not in your stay-motivated budget. Lisa also highly recommends new running gear. “Shopping for a new pair of running shorts, tights, or a sports bra adds a bit of fun getting you out the door.”
I will add one final suggestion to Lisa’s list:
Celebrate the achievements of others. Lisa is one of the most positive people I know, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she is also one of the biggest cheerleaders. Her attitude of joy watching others accomplish their goals is infectious.
So find some BAMRs, cheer wildly for them, and invest in the training cycles of other women. It gets you out of your own head and lets you swim in the endorphins of companionship. I will never forget texting my AMR friend Britt Parker as she was making her way through a very tough race. Knowing she was out there, putting one foot in front of the other, and imagining her smile when her phone was blowing up with texts from friends and family who were encouraging her, made me feel invested in something so much bigger than myself.
“We are living in unique times,” marathon champsion Lisa Rainsberger says. “But running can be a constant source of enjoyment. You just might have to think outside the box and create a new running normal.”
#434: Women Runners Tell Tales of Their Recent FKT (Fastest Known Times) Runs
Sarah and Tish talk to two adventurous women who each completed a FKT (Fastest Known Time), including Liz Anjos, who set a women’s record for doing the Appalachian Trail (AT) from south to north, and Elisa Laverty, who nearly beat her ultrarunner husband’s FKT on the same loop! Live vicariously listening to:
- Liz talk about putting in 18-20 hours per day on the AT, despite developing severe shin splints on Day 3 (of 52!);
- Liz share feeling apprehensive and overwhelmed every morning—and exalted every evening;
- Elisa detail how a summer of riding a gravel bike revived her running mojo;
- Elisa recount covering the final 3.5 miles—and 4,000’ of elevation gain!—of the 43-mile loop; and,
- Elisa encourage everyone to “build an epic route” for themselves.
In the introduction, Sarah details life in smoke-choked Portland. Liz, the first of the two FKT’ers, joins the conversation at 16:01.
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Dry Martini: A Naked 5K: Getting Naked in More Ways than One
The hardest part of running a 5K in the nude was not the moment when I took off my clothes. Nor was it the other naked people surrounding me at the start line. Nor was it those first few steps when you feel just how much the human body jiggles when in motion. Instead, the hardest moment came days before race day, when my husband and I dropped our firstborn child off for her first year of college. The naked 5K was a breeze by comparison, both literally and metaphorically.
This year of making-the-best-of-it coincided with her senior year of high school. At least my oldest baby was able to have a commencement ceremony, even though we had to sit in three-person family pods on the football field, where we could be socially distanced from all of the other kids and parents in the last third of the alphabet. Our masks only came off for one picture right after she received her diploma.
Dad and daughter are both goofballs.
We were so happy to be able to have that small moment to celebrate the end of one stage of her life and the start of the next. It is enough, we said. Even though we aren’t British, we kept our upper lips stiff.
We kept calm and carried on, even when every email from her chosen school failed to give us a sense of what their plan was — because no one had a plan. Not us. Not them. This year has laughed at all of our plans.
Old-school mapmakers used to doodle sea monsters in spots where they didn’t know what the territory actually looked like. Too much white space is deeply unsettling.
I know you’re asking about the naked 5K I teased you with earlier. In short: I’ve toyed with the idea of doing one for years. A friend of a friend mentioned she’d run one and had a great time. Naked is not my default setting; instead, my default is to always do something low-risk if it will result in an amusing anecdote. The only real risk in running in the altogether is sunburn, chafing, and a bruised ego.
Bad timing has kept me from running the buns-in-the-sun run nearest me because it kept conflicting with my job in higher ed, which always kicked into high gear that same weekend. But with nearly no students coming back this year, my schedule was empty. A plan was born.
Fortunately, that plan didn’t conflict with my college kid’s move-in date. We’d drive six hours on Wednesday; then home on Thursday; I’d catch-up on everything on Friday; then run on Saturday. What I failed to account for was having my heart ripped clean out of my chest when we drove away from her.
It took no time to unload her stuff on move-in day, mostly because they were told to bring as little as possible in case they had to flee a hot spot. Then, I hugged the baby who’d made me a mother as tight as I could and did my best to keep it together.
I held it together long enough to take the picture.
Like I said, I work in higher ed. I know how many people are involved in her success and safety. I also know this kid is more sure of herself at 18 than I was at 40. She’s ready. We’re ready. It’s time. But once a few tears leaked out, the floodgates broke. Here came all of the feelings that I’d failed to feel since the middle of March. All of them. Right now. In a Subaru on I-90.
I’d pulled it together a little by the time we got home, at least together enough to make sure our other child had survived while we were gone. He did, by the way.
Not much later, our new college freshman called. Her tears triggered mine, again. A weepy feedback loop bounced off of the cell towers between here and there. She wanted to come home. Starting college in a pandemic, with masks and tests and fear, was just too much. Give it 24 hours, I said, both to her and to myself.
By Friday, my no-longer stiff upper lip was abraded from all of my tears. The naked 5K didn’t seem like that huge of a deal, frankly. Just another thing to get done, in a year full of things I needed to do. I tossed a towel or two, my running shoes, socks, a hat, and a sports bra in a bag for the next day’s adventure. It turns out it’s pretty easy to pack for a race in which you won’t wear clothes.
I fueled myself with coffee on the drive, desperate to feel something even if it was a racing heart and the shakes. Not even my first sighting of a bunch of naked folk just kind of standing around like they weren’t, you know, naked, was enough to surprise me.
I parked near the race registration table, hopped out, and gave my name to the race director, who looked like a big, naked Santa. He handed me my bib and a souvenir t-shirt. When I turned around, a topless woman wrote that same number on my leg in sharpie because pinning it to my bare flesh wasn’t an option.
I walked back to my car, opened the back door, stood in the grass, and stripped off the shirt, bra, shorts, and undies I’d driven in. I changed into running shoes and pulled my hair back with the hat. Of course, I wore my Garmin. A run doesn’t count unless there is data.
I took an experimental jog just to see how bad the boob swinging would be. I doubled back for my sports bra. Wearing one felt a little bit like cheating but not enough to keep me from doing it.
It’s easy to socially distance when you are surrounded by naked strangers. The masked-for-safety crowd was oddly wholesome. There were naked kids. There was a mom breastfeeding while waiting to run. There were a lot of penises — and I fully absorbed how much variation there can be between them. All of these bodies were just bodies. I’ve felt more objectified in the grocery in my winter coat.
While a couple of the younger runners wore clothes; most of us wore mostly nothing. For me, after growing and delivering two babies, my body and I have made peace with each other. For all of its pooches and flop, it has served me well. Plus, it felt almost rude to not be naked when that is the default setting.
Then we were off. After minute or two of convincing my body that, yes, we would be running right now, I settled into a groove. For more than 30 minutes, the pandemic, my missing heart, and the sea monster map disappeared while I sweated and flapped through a hilly campground in the Poconos surrounded by a couple dozen people doing the same.
Around the end of my first mile, the fastest runners — and some of those guys were hella fast — had hit the turn-around and were running toward me. The sight of that many naked penises tick-tocking like metronomes gave me such a case of the giggles that I had to slow down to catch my breath. I imagined what this spectacle must look like from above and laughed.
Yes, I am naked.
It was a profoundly silly way to spend a morning. When I crossed the finish, I felt something close to joy, despite my missing heart, a global pandemic, and a civil rights reckoning. Then I toweled off, put my clothes back on, and drove home to see what comes next.
Adrienne Martini writes about more than running. Her most recent book is Somebody’s Gotta Do It: Why Cursing at the News Won’t Save the Nation but Your Name on a Local Ballot Can.