Why I Run Story Featuring Jill Hildebrandt

By: Jill Hildebrandt

I first tried running as a 7th grader in cross country in 1983. I was extremely slow–as in they would be packing up the race by the time I finished. Definitely not my wheel house. Probably didn’t help I had a large perm on my naturally curly red hair. I am sure that weighed me down and added time to my mileage.

Each year at the end of season banquet, it had been tradition to give a Golden Brick as a tongue-in-cheek award to the season’s not-so-great runner. My parents just had divorced that year, and so I was quite fragile. As I entered the banquet I saw a box with the awards to be given out that night: my name was on the Golden Brick. My dad came to the event, after a hard day at work/farming. My mom could not make it. My dad rarely came to my sporting events; my brothers’ events, yes, but not mine. Thus, it was a big deal to me he was there, and I was really heart-broken he’d have to witness me getting this award.

Interestingly, they never gave out the brick that year. I am not sure if they saw me start crying when I saw my name on the brick, had a change of heart. Whatever the reason, I was elated they didn’t publicly give me that brick. I hope they stopped that tradition, too.

I never ran much after that, and only started running again January 1, 2019, two days after my beloved poetic mother, who got her undergraduate and Master’s of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from MSU, Mankato in 1987 and 1990, after my parents divorced, unexpectedly passed away.

My long-time friend of over 20 years–who teaches at MSU, Mankato–has run the 10K at the Mankato Marathon the past few years, and wanted to run the half marathon, as she’s turning 50 around that same time. A coming of age—a marker of age—to run 13.1 miles.

I turn 50 January 3. I decided, perhaps in grief-stricken angst, to train and run with her. I registered in February for the race.

I still am not a fast runner. However, I run now for the 18-month time span–literally, from July 3, 2017 to January 3, 2019, my 49th birthday, in which I lost my marriage (separated/impending divorce), my home and community, and moved to a new community/St. Peter to be near my mom to have her nearby to assist me with my two children, and then lost my mom.

I run toward the pain, loss, grief, depression, too, in hopes of something new, and to demonstrate to my two children–ages 8 and 14–one sometimes has to run into the pain to move through it. It’s not always smooth, pretty, or fun, but it must be done to heal.

I run as part of my treatment against depression so my depression doesn’t ruin/run me.

I don’t fear receiving a Golden Brick anymore. I am running toward new experiences and changes now versus away from them.

Photos L-R: me and my friend at my home town 4 mile race in June (personally redeeming myself from that brick award); my mom at MSU, 1987; me and my sister, Jennifer Hildebrandt, at Mile in My Shoes race in June.

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