A Moment That Changed Me: Running with My Daughter
Running with my daughter transformed how I see exercise. For years, I dreaded running — sports days, track events, and any form of cardio felt like punishment rather than fun. Growing up in the 90s, diet culture made exercise a chore, and I avoided it whenever possible, choosing activities that required minimal effort and associating movement with embarrassment or failure.
It wasn’t until I joined my daughter on a run that I began to experience the joy and freedom that exercise can bring.
Childhood Fears of Exercise
As a teenager, I dreaded anything cardio-related. While many friends played football or rugby for fun, I only saw exercise as a chore. Running in front of peers felt humiliating, and even attempts as an adult left me feeling clumsy and inadequate.https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/series/a-moment-that-changed-me
No matter how much I tried, my workouts often reminded me of school sports failures rather than producing any enjoyment. Running was something I did because I felt I had to, not because I wanted to.
Seeing Running Through My Daughter’s Eyes
Everything changed when my daughter was five. Encouraged by our family’s discussions about fitness, she expressed excitement at the idea of running. Her pure enthusiasm reminded me that running could be playful, energizing, and fun — a perspective I had never experienced as a child.
We decided to try junior parkrun, a 2km course designed for children aged 4–14, where adults can join in. The emphasis isn’t on speed or competition, but on participation, enjoyment, and building confidence in young runners.
A Transformative Run
That chilly Sunday morning, I ran alongside my daughter and was struck by her joy and determination. She ran without complaint or distraction, savoring every moment. I realized that running could be about connection, laughter, and the simple thrill of movement, rather than guilt or comparison.
Afterward, over a snack at a local café, my daughter excitedly told me how much she enjoyed the run. To my surprise, I felt the same way. It wasn’t about distance, pace, or performance — it was about sharing a meaningful experience.
Changing My Inner Dialogue
The lessons from that day stuck with me. On my next solo run, fatigue began to set in, and my usual negative self-talk appeared: “You’re bad at this, why even try?”
Instead, I spoke to myself as I would to my daughter: with encouragement and kindness. I imagined cheering on a younger version of myself, and suddenly running felt less like punishment and more like empowerment.
This approach transformed not only my mindset but my relationship with movement altogether.
Making Joy the Priority
Since then, running with my daughter has become a cherished routine. I no longer measure success by speed or distance. Instead, I focus on how running makes me feel — energized, grateful, and connected to my child.
Even as I train for longer distances, including my first marathon, those short Sunday runs remain the most joyful. Cardio is no longer the enemy; it is a source of happiness, bonding, and well-being.
