While my adult-ish kids were home for the holidays, we reminisced about the usual topics: hilarious debacles of all the years we cut down our Christmas tree, goals for 2025, and the odds of the Minnesota Vikings making it to the Super Bowl (slim). 

As we sat around the dinner table, chatting and catching up, I found myself wondering about the unspoken parts of our shared history and a question began to take shape in my mind: What did they remember about me as a runner? Did seeing me lace up my shoes and chase finish lines shape their view of me?

They saw me, on the regular, in my running gear, probably caught a whiff of it at school pickup, walked past my medal collection and race bibs every single day on the way to our car, and got to eat pizza and stay up late with grandma when I traveled for a race. I was curious to hear what they thought of it all.

The response? Oh, that’s nice, mom. 

It became clear there would be no Pulitzer Prize-winning essay that would be born from their memories. Of course they said they were glad I took care of myself. One even thought my running was “neat” (that’s a direct quote). But when your fixed identity through the eyes of your children is caretaker, problem solver, and conduit for snacks from Costco, your personal achievements fall pretty far down the list of attributes.

My kids when they were 10, 8, and 5. Just looking at this chaos makes me want to go for a run.

Now that they’re adults, we can dive into why running and movement continue to be so important to me, but when they were younger, it just didn’t register for them. While I had their attention, I did relive a few of my favorite races and wowed them with my more impressive stats. But the 4:30 am runs and the tenacious training? It was clear they hadn’t been “holding space” for my past goals. 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence they’ve grown up to love the outdoors and have pursued their own activities that bring them joy. I wasn’t just prioritizing movement for myself but for them, as well. But they don’t wax poetic about my prowess as a woman who could juggle all the things and run on top of it.

My kids didn’t have a strong impression of my running because they didn’t do the work—I did.

Maybe your kiddos will grow up and stare at you with stars in their eyes when they recall your early morning runs, but if they don’t—that’s ok.

The purpose of concentrating on your health as a mom isn’t so your kids will bestow upon you a “Best Mom Athlete” trophy when they’re older. The purpose is to stay strong, active, and mentally sane as you raise your kids so that one day you will (hopefully) be able to sit around a dinner table and reflect, reminisce, and enjoy one another’s company because you didn’t lose your marbles while raising them.

My personal input? Don’t feel guilty for prioritizing your workout or squeezing in a run when you haven’t spent enough quality time with your family that day. When it’s all said and done, I really don’t think they’ll remember. But you will.