Running is an art and a science. At the core, running is about the things we can’t always see: joy, empowerment, relationships, spirituality, mental toughness. Of course, it’s also about all those technical things we obsess over too, like Garmin data, tangents, biomechanics, wicking fabrics, intervals, pacing, injury prevention techniques, elevation, heart rate, shoes, fueling, electrolyte balance …. *whew.* Art and science, see?

As runners, we do a lot of worrying (or is that just me?). We often focus on all the things that could go wrong before we think about everything that could or will go right. We question ourselves, no matter where we are along our journey: Can I really run that fast? Can I sustain that pace? How could I ever have a good race in weather conditions that aren’t ideal? Can I keep up? Can I conquer that hill? Will I hold the group back? 

There are few things in life that can breed confidence and self-doubt in nearly the same breath as running.

This got me thinking. If you really strip running down to its foundation, it’s really just standing up and taking a step forward. Then another.

Earlier this month, my 14-month-old daughter (Baby rUnladylike) started walking. At first, she could only take one or two stutter steps at a time, forward momentum propelling her forward more than actual calculated steps. Slowly, one step turned into three or four. Then 10. Then she was walking. Wobbly and a bit like Frankenstein, but she is doing it. She would fall over and over and over. Bracing herself with her hands or just landing on her butt. Yet, even at 14 months old, she knows she’s supposed to keep getting back up. If only we could remember that at 30, 45, 60 … just keep getting back up and taking steps.

Recently, I’ve been talking to a lot of women who have been away from running for a while. Some are slowly building back after childbirth, while others just had different life priorities and found themselves out of shape and eager to find their way back to their fitness. When we talk, I can hear the inner struggle, almost an apology of sorts for where they are in their journey. I know that feeling because I was there just a year ago: Returning to running after childbirth, wanting to join my old running partners but knowing I would hold them back. Instead of embracing where we are along our journey, we often focus on where we want to be. But finding strength comes from being the runner we are today and working for the runner we know we can be. The runner we will soon be.

It’s about just standing up and continuing to take steps and to allow others to help you back up.

So the next time each of us finds ourselves questioning, doubting or apologizing for where we are along our journey today, stop. Just stand up, take a step and remember the rest will come with patience and consistency. You can thank Baby rUnladylike for the reminder.