I Never Ran 100 to Look Good

Not too long ago, I stepped in front of my full length mirror like I do every day. Post workout, drenched in sweat, no makeup, and completely undressed. As I looked, I felt what I’ve felt daily since I was a girl…. disappointment.

I instinctively covered up my bare chest with my arms, glanced at my thighs, and sighed. I looked away from my reflection with a heavier weight on my shoulders than I’d had moments before.

I washed my face, reached for my “full coverage” foundation and layered it on thick.  Then I began to go through the motions of what has now become my daily normal….

Concealer because my scars aren’t presentable.

Contour stick to make my face aesthetically pleasing.

Lip liner because my lips aren’t full enough.

Eye liner because my eyes aren’t bright enough.

Mascara because my lashes aren’t long enough.

“Slow Tan” lotion for my “disgustingly pale” skin.

A push-up bra to fix what gravity, breastfeeding, and running has denied me.

What a facade… I thought to myself. But this facade was now a part of me. Working in the fitness industry– one that is primarily based on helping people look good–I’d set the bar high for my own self.

My daughter walked in and sat down by my side. She sat quietly for a few moments, just observing me.

“Why do you wear all of that makeup, Mommy?” She asked, as I put on the finishing touches.

“To make myself look good!” I laughed back.

“Do I need makeup to make my face look good?”

“Of course not, baby girl.” I giggled back, looking at my strikingly beautiful daughter, “You are perfect just the way you are.”

“Mommy. Did you know I think you are perfect the way you are, too? I like your face with your scar. I like your spots, and your big nose! You don’t need to hide that from everyone.”

I dropped the hairbrush I was using, and turned towards my sweet girl as she scampered off to play, having no idea how impactful her words were.


I looked back into the mirror, and just sat for a second. Thinking. Pondering.

Holy cow...my kid had just called me out. A 7-year-old girl cut me deep with the sharpest blade, straight to the gut! It hurt, but at the same time, it was beautiful, real, and honest.

…Man…I stayed stunned for a minute, trying to process her honesty.

Where’d she get that from, anyway? Who’s been telling her how perfect she is… just the way she is? Who told her that we love people no matter what they look like? And that how we are on the inside is far more important than what we are on the outside??

Where’d it come from?

ME…It came from me.

I told her those things.

I SAID those things.

I implemented those things.

I practiced those things!

But looking at myself in the mirror, it suddenly became clear to me that I did not truly BELIEVE those things.

Yes, I applied them to every single person around me, but to the one person I lived with the most— Me—I had failed.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and I wiped it away begrudgingly.

“This is not me.” I said out loud looking at my reflection. “This is not who I am.”

I pulled myself together, and changed into running clothes. I dropped my kids at school, and with no work or plans, I knew just what I needed– I grabbed some food and water, and set out for the mountains. My mountains.

As I drove to the familiar trail in silence, I kept replaying what my daughter said earlier.

“…you don’t need to hide that from anyone.”

It bothered me, and I couldn’t shake it. I began to think about just how much of me I’d allowed myself to hate and cover up. For years, I’d done nothing but mentally rip myself to shreds every time I’d looked in the mirror. Destroyed myself instead of celebrating the things that make my life worthwhile.

“Ugghh.. My ugly chest.”

“These stretch marks are so disgusting.”

“I seriously need a nose job. And my lips done….and botox.”

Just…not… good…enough…

I parked at the trailhead, locked up, and tightened my shoes….….I could use a good breather after that drive…

Alone, I started my climb up to the peak. 2 miles up, a thousand-some-odd feet of climb, rocks, roots, mud…. and me. Nothing else.

I fell into a rhythm with the forest around me: Feet moving. Legs throbbing. Heart pumping. Soul soaring… so very much alive.

After a bit of sweat and pain, I finally summited the mountain, and paused in appreciation of the familiar views. A vast sea of untamed earth–brown, blue, green, and gold. I looked up to the peregrine falcon swooping overhead. It was just the two of us. I dropped down to a rock, and took it all in.

…I love that I can do this… I thought to myself.

My own two legs gave me the strength to get up that mountain. My feet, my heart, my lungs, and my will! No one else’s.

It’s seemed kind of funny just how quickly those wonderful things I love about myself lose all value while standing in front of a mirror.

I took a sip from my water bottle, and caught a glimpse of the numerous stickers covering it.”101.85 miles” was boldly plastered on the side, a nod to my 6th 100 mile race finish.

I smiled to myself, relishing the memory of that awful good race. One hundred freaking miles. Over mountains. In the rain. In one shot. I did that.

As I remembered, I chuckled to myself, ” Shoot. I never ran a 100 to look good. That’s for sure.”

It was true. I’d experienced so many incredible things in life. So many accomplishments. So many wild adventures. I thought about my children, my husband, all of my friendships and relationships–heck, sitting on top of the mountain in that very moment– none of it had anything to do with the superficial things my body had to offer.

A better looking face couldn’t get me across a finish line any faster.

Perfect skin wouldn’t help me summit the highest mountains.

And the most perfect body certainly has nothing to do with molding my childrens’ future.

As my mind continued down that path, I suddenly began to regret the amount of self-loathing I’d ever entertained. How much had this perfectionism robbed me of my happiness? How many times had I looked at photoshopped women in health and fitness magazines jealously? How often had I entertained ideas of “fixing” supposed issues with my body? How many times had I said it out loud?!

I cringed at the way I’d caved to a crooked industry’s standards of looks, and demanded superficial perfection from myself. I felt sick at what impression I may have given my daughter, and I knew right then and there that it needed to change. I was worth so much more than that. She was worth more.

From that moment, I resolved to view my body for what it truly was: not perfect, but perfectly good and capable. Yes my nose is big. Sure, I have some crazy stretch marks. But, when I stand in front of mirror undressed and start singling things out, I would focus on what matters.

My legs– They’re strong. They’ve conquered things I once deemed absolutely impossible.

My arms– fully able to lift my own body weight, and then some! More than most men, even.

My wide hips and chest– they served a special purpose to nurture the precious babies I raised.

My mouth–able to laugh and smile! To speak joy, to give healing, and share encouragement.

My scars– relics full of history and interesting stories.

These–these are small parts of me that work together to impact my life and the world around me. These parts make my life richer, and deserve my utmost attention, care, focus, and admiration, and I don’t need to hide them from anyone.

And moments like this– struggling, feeling, seeing, the taking in of God’s creation. Having the ability to do something extraordinary– to conquer a mountain of a goal–this is what it meant to be a “fit woman”. This is what health and fitness was truly all about for me.  It’s was more than carving “a shredded 6-pack” or working for “the perfect butt”.  It was doing what I love. Achieving the impossible. It was helping others. It was so…much…more.

I felt my self-imposed burden of perfectionism slowly slide off my shoulders that day. I ran off the mountain feeling lighter than I had in my entire life. I  thanked God for the much needed fresh perspective, and I swore to myself I would pass it on.

A few months later, I went hiking with my daughter. As we moved through the woods, I asked her what her favorite thing about herself was. I squealed in delight when I heard her answer. “My hands,” my sweet girl said, “They can draw so many cool things.”



24 Replies to “I Never Ran 100 to Look Good”

  1. I truly think ultra runners are a different breed! As for me…I’m more of a marathon/50k girl but I definitely don’t do it to ‘look good’…it’s something about running for me that cleanses my soul inside and out. A moving meditation if you will. And it’s something that has definitely transformed me and changed my life for the better. I’m so very proud of my body and its abilities and I thank God for that everyday.

  2. This is fantastic. There are so many woman out there who deal with this on a daily basis. It’s hard to turn a blind eye to the ever-influencing media. But your daughter is right in saying that you’re perfect just the way you are- no matter who you are!

    1. Thanks, Darren! Yeah. I think the media has a lot to do with it. And I would like to blame them for how women think, but truthfully, it’s on me and the other ladies on how we receive it. Either see it for what it is, or become victim to it…. My daughter is a smart little cookie.. Thanks for commenting ❤

  3. Hi Ash 😀 There is so much truth here. As a distance runner and wife myself, I deal with these same body/mental issues. It’s rare to hear somebody speak so honestly about it! It’s really refreshing and something I needed to be reminded of. Thanks Girl!!

  4. Ashley,
    Once again, I remember trying to tell you these things when you were fifteen. As a woman, I knew that you would have to learn the hard lessons on your own, but as your teacher, I just had to try! I am so proud of you; keep up the incredible work, both as an athlete and a mom. Your children and Daniel are quite lucky : )
    –S Dowse

    1. You have no idea how happy it makes my heart to see you comment here! Thank you! You are so right.. you did try to tell me these things! I was so stubborn and hard headed. I guess just like with everything else, I had to see for myself. Thanks for caring so much back then! And thanks for your sweet words now! Lots of love!!!!!

  5. Thank you for being so open and honest in this post! This brought tears to my eyes while reading it. I also struggle at times with body issues and can pick myself apart while looking in the mirror. Being a good example to our girls is so important! I love what you said, “The love I give, the things I feel, and the words I say….POWERFUL.” That is what is truly important!

  6. Hi Ash! Your true inner beauty was just exposed again. Thank you for your honesty and transparency. I’m going to share this with my beautiful wife and three daughters who I love and think are so beautiful and perfect. They don’t run ultras or even 5k’s but they each do so much to add to this world we live in and it has nothing to do with their pretty smiles and imperfections they may think they have. They are women! They are strong. They are perfect just the way God has made them. And I love them for who, what and how they are just as your husband and children do. Thank you Ash fir such a beautiful post from your beautiful soul! I love your smile too and your perfectly great and pretty self too. Holler from the mountain tops and run long! – Sean

    1. Hey, Sean! Thanks sooo much for reading, and for sharing it with your gals! Every woman is so unique, and it’s great to have men like you supporting us! Appreciate it… Happy Thanksgiving!

  7. Love it. So agree. Women are beautiful- we are strong, gorgeous, untamed beasts of the mountains! I will be proud of my strength, proud of my capabilities, and I will relish life. Love your post- it encourages all of us to break out of our cultural molds and patterns of thinking and realize our inherent fierceness.

  8. I just ran my first half! I had this idea in mind that I would lose weight and be happier with myself. Guess what? I lost half a pound in 4 months of training but the truth is I am happier with myself. I ran a fucking half marathon! And when I wanted to stop I kept running. And I’m really proud of that. I could still stand to lose 20 pounds but it seems a whole lot less important now. Thank you for posting so beautifully about body image issues. So many of us struggle with this!!

    1. I appreciate your honesty! Thanks for reading my post. Congrats on your half! I hope you continue to find that awesome fulfillment as you continue your journey! You should definitely be proud. Rock on! 🙂

  9. O my….so needed this today!! I have been majorly struggling with how I feel about myself after having my 3rd baby. On one side I am so thankful for the 3 beautiful souls that I brought into this world and for all the amazing things my body can do right in this moment, but on the other side I keep looking at the clothes i can’t wear anymore, the weight I can’t seem to lose, the long distances I will have to build back up to and get down on myself. I realize the things I think and say about myself are ridiculous, but can’t seem to stop it at times. It’s a continual work in progress for me to love myself just as I am, quit the comparisons and take fitness one step at a time 🙂

    1. Thanks for commenting, and for the honesty! It is great to hear so many other women can relate. Since writing this post, I’ve forced myself every single day to balance out negative thoughts with good ones. It’s better to count your blessings, right? Hope you have a great day, Mama, and keep celebrating the good!

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