The changing of the seasons has been harder than I anticipated. Every morning, I walk my dog, Oakly — the Tennessee air no longer cold but a lovely briskness that pairs perfectly with the soft, rising sun, a nod to the warmth that will come later in the day. It’s my favorite running weather; morning after morning presents nothing but gratitude for winter giving way and summer temps staying at bay.
As Oakly and I amble through the neighborhood, I can’t help but notice the runners, enjoying the limited days of this bliss only experienced by those who seize the early mornings. With each runner I see, I want to shout at them, I run too! Not today, I don’t, but I promise — I’d be out there with you if things were just a little different.
One morning when I was feeling particularly envious of those embracing the weather while I could not, a thought popped into my brain:
Am I still a runner if I’m not running?
I’ve been thinking about labels a lot more lately, since I’m gaining such a huge one soon.
I’m about to take on one of the biggest labels of all: mom. It’s overwhelming in both the best and most terrifying ways. Even before holding this baby in my arms, the weight of that identity is shifting how I see myself. I find myself questioning how I’ll fit into my other roles once this one inevitably takes up more space. Will there still be room for the runner, the photographer, the creative? Or will everything else fall away for a while?
It’s exciting, yes — but it’s also a quiet grieving of who I was before, even as I welcome who I’m becoming.
Many of us tie our personalities — even build our whole lives — around a very specific label or two.
But the thing is, we don’t ever just hold one label at a time. Each of us is made up of a kaleidoscope of labels, shifting and changing as we navigate life. And just like a kaleidoscope, some grow bigger in certain seasons, and others have to shrink. But one small shift can disrupt the whole balance — in the most beautiful way.
We all carry labels. Some are given to us, some are chosen. Some we hold onto for far too long, and some we need to learn to grasp and embrace more closely.
As we go through life, we naturally lean into certain roles more than others. But we’re never one thing at a time; there are always layers.
But now, my running shoes are collecting dust. My favorite running shorts and crop tops haven’t seen any action in weeks, and Strava is begging me to do some type of workout — any type of workout.
‘Runner’ is a label I don’t feel like I can currently claim. It feels distant, but not necessarily out of reach. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not starting to get nervous about how long it’ll be before I can claim that identity as my own again.
I had — and still have — such high hopes that I’ll be able to make it through labor and be cleared to run again without much of a hiccup. But even as a first-time mom, I know there’s likely a bit of delusion behind that. It simply will not be that easy.
Which leads me to my current shadow of doubt:
Am I still a runner if I’m not training, racing, or even running?
Last year, I decided to do a self-portrait challenge (because in addition to the label of runner, I also proudly carry the label of photographer). Every month, I took self-portraits, each based around a different theme or mood I wanted to convey.
One month, I took the most beautiful, sweet, dreamy photos in a sunflower field — the yellow hues projecting warmth and happiness.
The next month, I graffitied a sheer tarp with black and red spray paint and threw on a leather jacket for some of the most badass photos I’ve ever taken.
Both photoshoots were so much fun, and I loved the photos from each. Despite being so vastly different, both felt like versions of me.
As the year progressed, I learned to lean into the idea that I have so many different reflections of my personality. The photos were a great way to explore them and embrace — even exaggerate — each trait for the photoshoot.
Now, I’m learning that the same is true for these labels.
They may not be equal, but I can carry all of these labels; I don’t have to pick and choose. This is not an either/or situation — I can be all things.
Runner, photographer, wife, creative, marketer, sister, daughter, professional, dog-lover. Mom.
Maybe being a runner isn’t so much about weekly mileage or race times. Maybe it’s a mindset, a lifestyle, a way of being.
Maybe being a runner is simply about loving movement, valuing the mental space it creates, and knowing it’s a part of you — whether you’re logging 50 miles, 100 miles a week, or none at all.
The truth is: we can only run one marathon at a time. And sometimes, that marathon is rest and recovery. Or pregnancy. Or injury. Or just one of life’s detours.
But the label doesn’t just vanish.
Parts of our identity — even some that are at the core of who we are — can exist in the background without fully disappearing. We can embrace those labels, even if they aren’t prominently displayed in our day-to-day actions or routines.
We all carry quiet labels — identities that may not be loud right now, but haven’t left us.
The musician who hasn’t picked up her guitar in months.
The writer who hasn’t felt inspired in a while.
The teacher savoring summer break.
The athlete nursing an injury.
The dreamer in a season of just getting by.
Just because a role is paused doesn’t mean it’s gone. These parts of us still hum in the background, waiting for their turn again.
So, back to my original question:
Am I still a runner if I’m not running?
In my opinion, yes.
Being a runner isn’t always about the act of physically running — it can be about the connection we have to movement.
For me, this season of running doesn’t come with post-race pictures and medals. It’s about gratitude for what my body is capable of — whether that’s running 26.2 miles or bringing a child into this world.
It’s time we look a little more closely at the labels we carry — and release the pressure to prove any one of them all the time.
What labels do you hold onto that are quietly waiting in the background? What labels do you need to let go of? What labels do you need to more fully embrace?
Most importantly: Have you ever struggled with your identity shifting in different seasons of life?
I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
