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In June 2020, I made the decision to run a mile daily. Just one mile. The pandemic had left me feeling confined and overwhelmed, balancing full-time work and parenting from home. I craved fresh air and a personal challenge. So, I set a goal to run a mile every day until my birthday, which was just a week away. What began as a week-long commitment stretched into 10 days, then a month, and eventually three months. At that point, I couldn’t bear the thought of going from 90 consecutive days to zero, especially as I approached the milestone of 100 days. Before I knew it, 100 days turned into 200, and I’ve now successfully completed over a year of daily runs.
When I first started, I hoped to become a runner like my husband, who relishes discussing running routes, personal records (PRs), and new running gear. I, on the other hand, found little joy in those topics. I attempted to improve my speed, but that only added stress and detracted from my enjoyment. My objective was simply to complete a mile each day, regardless of how fast I went. The streak itself became my personal record. I predominantly followed the same route and have yet to invest in a new pair of running shoes. After logging over 365 miles, I can confidently say that running itself isn’t my passion. However, I cherish the feeling post-run and the satisfaction of not making excuses. That determination to maintain my streak has driven me onward.
Running every day means braving all sorts of weather and daily challenges. I’ve found myself in situations I never thought I would, like running with a headlamp after putting my kids to bed, facing a windstorm that reached 45 miles per hour while dodging downed tree limbs, and even slogging through a blizzard while reminding myself to “run like a penguin.” I’ve donned everything from tank tops to parkas to get my mile in. I’ve run on significant days like returning to in-person work, my youngest starting kindergarten, Halloween, New Year’s Eve, and even on vaccination days. Most notably, I ran the day I decided to pause my streak.
Before my family was vaccinated, both of my children were quarantined due to potential exposure to COVID-19 at school. A week later, my youngest tested positive, while the rest of us remained negative. The doctor’s call was terrifying, especially for my five-year-old. We masked up, isolated, and felt trapped in our own home. The best-case scenario was that my daughter would have mild symptoms, and we would all remain healthy during our 20-day housebound period. The worst-case scenario was one by one contracting the virus with uncertain outcomes.
Feeling overwhelmed, I focused solely on supporting my daughter. Realizing I had little control over the situation, I chose to stop my running streak. I allowed myself to accept this decision throughout the day, even moving my sneakers out of sight. As I prepared for bed, my older daughter asked if I would resume the streak someday. I honestly didn’t know. After over 200 days of dedication, could I really start over? It was then I understood that I still had a choice. I wasn’t sure if I’d be healthy enough to run the next day or the week after, but on that particular day, I felt fine.
I rearranged furniture and toys to create a running loop inside my house. Setting a timer for 12 minutes, I donned my mask, pressed play on Bruce Springsteen, and began to run. My five-year-old must have heard my footsteps and emerged from her room, clapping each time I passed. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, my other daughter joined in, banging a spoon against a pot as I moved by. My husband held our dog back to prevent her from chasing me. I took photos while running to capture this moment of unity amidst fear; we were strong and supportive, navigating the pandemic, the streak, and everything together.
I continued my makeshift indoor laps during our quarantine, with my family cheering me on. This became a highlight of our monotonous days at home. After three rounds of testing and 20 long masked days, my husband and older daughter remained COVID-negative.
While my initial goal was personal, I hadn’t realized how much my running streak had turned into a family endeavor. My children tracked the days and prepared for my one-year milestone. My husband, a seasoned runner, became my biggest cheerleader. He noted that he’d never run in a snowstorm when I did, and rather than complain about my early morning alarm, he expressed pride in my dedication. He even introduced me to podcasts, and over time, I’ve enjoyed more than 100 hours of listening, with favorites like The Moth and Dolly Parton’s America.
Over the year, I felt my legs grow stronger and my endurance increase. But more importantly, my confidence and self-image transformed. I set a goal and achieved it. While I may not have purchased new running shoes, I did invest in hiking boots. The miles I logged opened my eyes to new possibilities in physical challenges, and I learned that exercise is as much mental as it is physical. Next month, I plan to hike Katahdin, Maine’s highest peak at 5,269 feet and the end of the Appalachian Trail. I anticipate that I’ll be sore afterward—so sore, in fact, that my running streak will likely conclude.
Ultimately, my goal wasn’t about the duration of my running but about the commitment to set a goal. In my 40s, balancing kids, a full-time job, and life’s busyness, I discovered what I could achieve when I removed excuses, delved deep within myself, and embraced new possibilities.
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Summary:
In June 2020, I embarked on a journey to run a mile every day, driven by the need for personal time during the pandemic. What began as a short-term goal evolved into a year-long commitment that transformed not only my physical endurance but also my confidence and family dynamics. Through various challenges—both external and personal—my running streak became a source of strength and unity for my family. As I prepare for new adventures, I realize the journey has been more about challenging myself and embracing possibilities than simply logging miles.
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