I am a mother who runs. I realize this isn’t a very unique identity; there are a lot of us on the roads and trails—new mothers and old mothers alike. I don’t have many trophies or prizes in my running resume, which started with my first 5k in 1999 and goes up to my most recent marathon in 2008. I’d like to think my consistency is what makes my perspective as a running mom interesting, and hopefully others can relate to my observations on life as a running mom.

Like many mothers out there, I use running as an escape from things I’d rather not be doing—whether it’s work stressors, scrubbing my floor, or playing another ever-loving game of Candy Land with my son. No doubt the parallels between running and motherhood appear to any woman who has found herself exhausted, humbled, and overjoyed at the small gains of either running or parenting. There’s something unique to the experience of shaving a few seconds off a personal record and watching your child use a spoon without help for the first time. I know running has also taught me a lot about how to be a better mother… patience, humor, the importance of double knots on shoe laces.

Lately I’ve found that I’m selling my little boy short when it comes to how he has improved my running—and I’m not just talking about figuring out how to run faster so I can get home to drive him to swimming lessons. If I think about it, stumbling my way through raising a healthy and carefree child has made a huge difference in how I see my running. Maybe you’ve found your own lessons, which I’d love to hear, but these are mine.

1. Put a toothpick in it. I’m finding that my finicky eater will pop just about anything in his mouth if you give him a toothpick. Broccoli, zucchini, you name it—put a little wooden stick in it, and he’ll eat it. Little enhancements can make any dreaded run more tolerable too. A new song on my iPod is enough to get me out the door when it’s 80 degrees with 100% humidity. Or the chocolate milk I always drink after a long run. Sometimes my toothpick is more like a log, and I need something more enticing, like a massage. But for the most part, if I put a toothpick in my run, I’ll do it.

2. Find your wings. The other day I made my son a pair of bat wings, and all of a sudden, my bored kid was ready to fly. I don’t know if I’ll literally pin on his wings for my next race, but when a regular everyday run feels like a chore, I think about how good it feels when I’m running in the zone and feel like I have wings. Then I go out and run to “find my wings.” It might mean running faster, or it might be running slower, but if I can let myself play with running, my wings usually appear.

3. Make it count. I never gave balancing my own diet much thought before having a child. Now I’m obsessed with the food groups and insist that my son’s meals try to cover all of them. Sometimes that might mean he eats almonds, cheese and crackers, and cherry tomatoes for lunch because neither of us can handle one more peanut butter sandwich, but I always try to make the components count toward that list of food groups. Now I’m learning to do it with my running. Some days I just can’t run four whole miles, even if I ran 10 a few days before. I used to refuse breaks to walk or catch my breath, and didn’t let a run count unless I ran the whole thing. Why do I cut my kid slack and let almonds count for protein, but I can’t let a walk count toward my mileage? Every bit counts.

4. Look around. My son—like a lot of little kids—has a knack for seeing things that I never notice. A tree growing sideways. The sun and moon out at the same time. I think a lot of people want to zone out when they run, and when I’m struggling, I do too. More and more, though, I’m trying to use running as a way to be part of the world and to notice things. One random shoe in the bushes—what’s that about? No earth-shattering observations going on, but I spend so much time inside and in the online world through my computer that I probably need to see, feel, and hear more of the real world. Even those random shoes.

5. Want what you want. During his most difficult moods, when he’s being stubborn (I like to say he gets that from his father’s side) my son will often ‘explain’ to us, “I just want what I want!” The blunt honesty of a little kid’s perspective on life makes me laugh, but there’s so much truth in “I just want what I want” for a mother who runs. When it comes to fitness that’s about our health and meeting personal goals, we have to want what we want. It’s so easy for me to get distracted and give over to other areas of life. If I want to be stronger, faster, more rewarded by my drive for fitness, I have to really want what I want.

What has mothering—or some other area of your life—taught you about your running?

About the Author: Kristina Pinto is a recovering academic in psychology whose biggest contribution to the field of child development is a little blond imp named Henry. When she feels conflicted over her chosen lot, she goes for a run. She runs a lot. For more of Kristina’s perspective on running and motherhood, visit her blog Marathon Mama ».