My latest Chronic Mama column

“Asking for Help.” see Literary Mama…

I started running the year I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I was 14 years old and living away from home at a private school. My field hockey coach had been surprised when she saw me running on a Sunday afternoon, our day off. I’d always complained when she made us go for a run around campus, and had been caught taking the shortcut more than once. That year she gave me a “Most Unlikely Runner” gag award at the end of our season, but I could tell that she was proud. I was proud. Running was teaching me to see my body as healthy rather than sick. With my running shoes on I was strong and steady, not the girl with the chronic disease. Running began as a way to tame my blood sugars, but over the years it has become a necessary rhythm in my life. As the mother of three boys under ten, running every morning keeps me calm and steady in the middle of the motherhood storm.

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