To the Woman Who Runs Beside Me

Mothers Day 2025

I wouldn’t be where I am today without my mom.

That’s not just something people say—it’s the deepest truth I know. Every mile I’ve run, every class I’ve passed, every moment I felt like giving up—she’s been there. Sometimes right beside me, sometimes behind the scenes or on the phone, but always with me.

She’s the one who woke up before the sun to drive me to lacrosse practice, hours before she needed to get to work. She cheered for me in bleachers and sidelines and quiet car rides home.

When I didn’t want to run—on days when my legs were sore or my heart just wasn’t in it—she gave me that signature mom wake-up call. “You don’t have to feel like it,” she’d say. “Just do it anyway.” And she was right. Her words got me through more workouts than I can count. This year, she’s been giving me literal wake up calls from home, because it’s hard to get up sometimes.

We’ve run together at Back Bay in Newport, on the tracks of local highschools, and around Brea where she raised me. Those runs (and walks) weren’t about training—they were about love, presence and belonging.

And when I couldn’t run at all—after my surgery, when I was hurting both physically and emotionally—she didn’t let me stay stuck. She bought me a recumbent bike so I could move, even if I couldn’t move the way I wanted to. That bike wasn’t just a gift. It was a lifeline. It said: “I see you. I believe in you. We’ll get through this.”

When I fell during my last half marathon—scraped and crying and unsure what came next—she was the first person I called from the ground. Because in that moment of pain, fear, and vulnerability, I needed my mom. And, like always, she answered.

She works so hard to take care of me and my brother. Her strength is quiet but constant—built from early mornings, late nights, and fierce love.

She is my role model. My first coach. My comfort. My push. My heart.

So today, and every day, I just want to say thank you.

Thank you for every little thing you do and every big thing you carry.

Thank you for holding me up when I can’t stand on my own.

Thank you for running beside me—even when I’m struggling to take the next step.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you more than words can ever say.

— Sarah Grace Kubasek