No, I Don't Love Running. I Love Who It Allows Me To Become.

I have a confession: I don't actually love running.

It can be boring, literally takes my breath away, hurts my legs, takes my time, requires expensive shoes, and makes me do so much more laundry than I should have to.

I don’t wake up every morning craving the burn in my lungs or counting down the minutes until my next long run. I don’t love every mile. Some miles are miserable. Some miles feel heavy. Some miles are simply something I have to choose.

But I love what running does to me. I love the person I am becoming because I run.

I've Always Been an Athlete

My whole life, I have been competing and using my body to do so. Movement has always had a purpose. From competitive dance to volleyball, from middle school track to playing basketball year-round in high school, and to competing at the Division 1 level in one of the most physically demanding sports in the world, rowing, for four years, I knew what it meant to work toward something.

But when rowing ended, something unexpected happened. I didn’t lose my purpose. My purpose has always been rooted in serving the Lord and loving His people. But I lost a piece of myself I couldn’t quite figure out.

I was blessed to get to compete athletically at one of the highest levels. I learned so much and was challenged in ways I didn't even think was possible.

For years, I had a goal. A schedule. A team. A reason to push myself every single day.

Suddenly, I didn’t.

Combine this with the confusion of starting my life after school, moving to a new city, not having any friends in a new place... I was kind of panicking. I wasn’t the athlete chasing the next season anymore. I wasn’t sure what I was chasing at all. I had spent so much time proving what I could do that I forgot what it felt like to simply enjoy being present.

Then running happened.

My Running Summary

In September 2025, almost a year ago, I decided to let myself be influenced by a TikToker and try what he had coined as "Streaktember" where he was going to run at least a mile every day for the entire month. So I tried.

I failed.

I think on day 13, I didn't get outside. But on September 14, I went to the park and ran. The streak had broken but something in me knew I needed to keep going. There was something to this running thing and I might as well figure out what that "thing" was.

Fast forward to October, I was increasing weekly milage dramatically. From running 6-9 miles a week, I was running 6-9 miles a couple times a week. I decided I wanted to train for something again. I decided I wanted to try my hand at a half-marathon.

The first half-marathon I ran was the Garmin Half in Kansas City. I had such a great time.

The second half I ran was the Bill Snyder Half-Marathon in Manhattan, KS. Manhattan will always hold a special place in my heart for so many reason. Running through a town that witnessed so many versions of me had be rolling through 5 years of memories I made while I lived there. A nostalgic run was an interesting experience. I also got to run this one with some of my rowing teammates. It was special to get to challenge ourselves together again, but this time without the competition between one another.

Fast forward again to this past Spring and that idea to run a half-marathon turned into running three of them in a six-week period. I called it my "half series." It allowed me to run a race with one of my best and longest friends in Kansas City, back through Manhattan (the greatest place on Earth) and then in Yellowstone while making a vacation out of it with my family. Yellowstone was particularly cool because my parents decided to train and run the 5k that was a part of the event too. I am so proud of them!

The Yellowstone race was hard. Plain and simple. It was a trail run and I hadn't trained on anything like that this whole time. Miles 5-8 were straight up a mountain too. Somehow though, it was some of the best minutes in my life. Months of training were coming to fruition with each step so I didn't spend this run wishing the time go faster or wishing it be over. I was really able to be present in the moment and thank God I was capable of using my body for something so cool.

Enjoying the Process

Running filled a hole I didn’t even realize I had, but it filled it differently than anything else before.

Almost every sport I had ever done came with competition attached. And I loved that. I loved the intensity, the pursuit of a goal, the feeling of working toward something bigger than myself. I loved winning almost as much as I hated losing. I loved being part of a team and seeing what I was capable of when I pushed my body.

But there was always a scoreboard. There was always a ranking posted after every single workout.

There was always someone faster. Someone stronger. Someone better. There was always another goal to chase, another number to beat, another standard to reach.

Running is different.

For the first time in a long time, I was moving simply because I wanted to.

The reward wasn’t just the finish line. The reward was the run itself.

My favorite metric after a run has never been my pace, my distance, or even my time. It is whether I had fun.

Did I get outside?

Did I notice something beautiful?

Did I laugh?

Did I finish feeling more like myself than when I started?

That is success.

Running gave me the ability to enjoy the process instead of only chasing the outcome.

What's Next?

On the flight home from Wyoming I found myself reflecting so much on that 10 month journey and what was next. Afterall, after the third race, my commitments were complete. I figured I'd take the Summer off. Have some fun. Relax a bit. Train again in the fall. Or not train again. I was pleased with my effort and was content. So I took a week off from any running or lifting. I didn't like it. So I decided I would run to get the jitters out. I didn't want to risk hurting myself or burning myself out. The next day, I decided I was not going to take the Summer off at all. I decided I was going to ramp it up. I registered for a full-marathon this coming Fall.

So I have been training. Like a lot. I have a program I am following and it has been so difficult. I know it is only going to get harder moving forward. This is actually the first Summer I have ever trained during. Normally is has been more of a "maintenance-and-don't-get-hurt-just-be-ready-come-August" kind of thing. Not this time. I am working to improve right now.

Part of the summer training included a midnight 10K for Special Olympics Kansas with my friend Madison.

Complete transparency: 26.2 miles intimidates me in a way nothing has before. But that is also kind of cool. Because while being terrified, part of me knows I am completely capable. It is a feeling unlike any other.

I Stopped Running Away

As I previously mentioned, I wasn't sure what I was striving for until running came into the picture. But honestly, I think for a long time, running was an escape for me. An escape from thinking, feeling, overanalyzing, facing myself. It was a distraction. Sometimes it still is a distraction. But it sort of became a chore like the other sports I had done and that wasn't the point. The running away had its needed moments. But I got far enough away and needed to come back to myself.

Now, I am running toward something. I am running toward better. Toward joy. Toward discipline and progress. Toward movement. Toward doing something hard because I want to challenge myself.

Running gave me back the athlete in me, but, more importantly, it introduced me to a version of myself I had never met. And I love getting to know her.

Running also allows me to exist in my body in the present moment. I feel my legs turn. I focus on my breathing. I feel my arms swing. I feel my hair blow around. I can feel my lungs burn. I can feel my old rowing injuries ask for some relief (hamstring, IT band, even my wrist sometimes). I can feel the sweat collecting on my arms and feel it run down my forehead. And for the miles I spend putting one foot in front of the other, I am just me. I can exist in my body, not just in my head. It is peaceful.

The miles I have put on my feet have managed to strip me down to what feels like almost nothing. This really happened at the Yellowstone half-marathon. I didn't bring gels, failed to fuel properly the morning of, was dehydrated, and was facing an altitude my lungs did not appreciate. For a moment, I found myself praying to God saying I needed him to finish that race for me because I was too weak to do it myself.

Post-race, it hit me that maybe I had figured out something so fundamental to the Christian life that I had never understood quite so tangibly before. We spend so much time trying to become stronger, while God is often trying to teach us how to depend on Him more completely. Our weakness does not disqualify us from His work. In many ways, it is exactly where He chooses to meet us. We bring our loaves and fish, our empty nets, our tired legs, and our willing hearts, and He does what only He can do.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Running is allowing me to let myself stop trying to prove myself, and to just trust.

So Why Does Running Work?

A year ago, if you had told me that I would willingly wake up before sunrise to run for hours at a time, I would have laughed. If you had told me that I would run three half-marathons, sign up for a full marathon, or spend an entire summer training simply because I wanted to, I would have thought you were crazy.

But here we are.

The funny thing is that running never gave me what I thought I was looking for. I thought I was searching for another goal, another challenge, another way to fill the space that athletics had left behind. Instead, running gave me something much better.

I got to participate as a mentor for Girls on the Run for a couple of my young cousins. Running has a way of connecting us in new ways.

It gave me perspective. It gave me discipline. It gave me gratitude. It gave me confidence. It gave me friendships and memories and adventures. It gave me mornings outside while the rest of the world was still sleeping. It gave me an appreciation for the body God gave me and a deeper understanding of what it means to depend on Him.

Most of all, it gave me myself back.

Not the version of me who was defined by statistics, rankings, achievements, races, medals, other people's opinions, or accomplishments. The one with joy for life and excitement for movement.

The truth is that I still don't love every run. There are mornings when I would rather stay in bed, days when my legs feel heavy, and moments when I wonder why I signed myself up for any of this in the first place. But every time I finish, I understand a little more clearly why I keep coming back.

I keep coming back because I love feeling strong. I love feeling capable. I love laughing in the middle of a run ( I am sure I look insane to passing cars), watching the sun rise, noticing the seasons change, and realizing that I can do hard things. I love having something that reminds me to stop overthinking and simply be where I am.

And perhaps that is why running works for me.

Not because I love running itself, but because I love the way it teaches me to live. I love discovering what I am capable of.

Feeling completely exhausted and full of joy at the same time... that is when I feel most alive.

I encourage you to lace up and get out there. I don't care if you run for 10 miles, 1 mile, or for 30 seconds and walk home. Just try. That's all it took for me.

All my love,

Neva