Think you aren’t a BAMR? Think again!

For those of you who don’t know, BAMR stands for bad-ass mother runner

It is not a special term reserved for certain mother runners. It is a term for ALL mother runners. If you are a mom and a runner, consider yourself a BAMR. Not convinced? Let’s break it down.

Bad Ass.  When you hear the term, you might have a specific image in your head.  Maybe a woman who clean jerks 200 lbs…a runner who does 100 milers and breaks time records…an Ironman. Yeh, those might be all good examples of  badassery. But, what about the things moms have to do every day? On an average day, you juggle your own work while maintaining the health and well-being of tiny humans. This means preparing meals, avoiding stepping on legos, and kissing boo-boos all while carrying at least one child on your hip…and that is just the first hour of every day.

I say all of the time, there should be an Olympic event category – “Mothering“.  Mothering would be categorized as an endurance sport, by the way.  There are no sprints here.  Imagine it – athletes would have to complete regular daily mom activities in a 24 hour period all while being sleep deprived AND wearing their heart on the outside of their body.   The event would certainly have lot of hills and at least one toddler would be climbing up your back for a portion of the event.  Regular athletes would not stand a chance. Moms, though, we would gold-medal the sh#t out of that event.


Mother.  Once we become a mom and we bring that first sweet child home, we officially become sleep-deprived for life. It is part of the job. We know it. We take it on without badges or a parade.  And, we learn how to function in this place where we might not ever feel well-rested again.  We adjust. We figure out ways to get it done.

Runner. Eventually, we decide we are ready to run (again).  And, we do it tired. We train tired. We go home and fall to bed exhausted. We race tired.  And we get up and do it all over again the next day.  Being a mom is hard. Being a mother runner is even harder. There are no true rest days when you are a mother runner.  And, admit it-you wouldn’t change it for a thing.

Bad Ass.

Mother Runner.  

Before I was a runner, I was a Mother.  Mom. Mah-mah. Mommy, Mama…I became a runner because I wanted to be healthy. I wanted to be active. I wanted to set an example for my children.  Now that I am surrounded by other mother runners in my Moms Run This Town group, I realize we are all BAMRs.  You don’t have to run “fast”, or even run a race. You just have to be a mom that loves to run.

This Mother’s Day, do me a BAMR favor and take some time for yourself to get out and run.  It’s what BAMRs do.

For the love of running,


Get your BAMR tank at

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