Running Is a Team Sport

By Kristen Anderson, Educator, Athlete and Team Lupus, Chicago Marathon 2025 runner

For years, whenever I’ve told someone I run marathons, I’ve gotten the same question—usually with a curious tilt of the head:
“But do you do any team sports?”

I always smile and say, “Yes. Running.”

If you’re not a runner, you might debate me. But I’ve seen the truth of it — over and over. Runners carrying strangers across finish lines. Friends showing up with casseroles when injuries hit. Whole communities rallying through illness, pregnancies, and setbacks. I’ve been helped, and I’ve helped. That’s a team.

A Start Line I Never Expected
My running journey began three months after a cycling crash down a Vancouver mountain left me with broken bones and a body I barely recognized. The bike, once my joy, felt stolen from me.

A friend suggested I try running a marathon. I laughed, “I do still have two good legs.”

Leaning on mindfulness and yoga, I trained. Despite two ill-timed porta-potty stops (pro tip: lentils are not race food), I crossed the line with a better-than-Boston qualifying time.

But then came another crash. Another set of broken bones. A fractured ankle. I cried not from pain, but at the thought that Boston might be gone. Yet, with my kids, friends, and doctors behind me, I made it to the start line—on the condition I would run only one hour and walk the rest.

And I knew I wouldn’t be walking alone.

Enter Joanne
Joanne and I met decades ago, slinging plates as waitresses in university. Within an hour we were plotting a wakeboarding trip with strangers’ boats and brand-new bikinis. That was us—always chasing fun, side-by-side.

She was there through both crashes, cooking for my kids, cleaning my house, keeping me laughing when I wanted to cry. And when I doubted Boston, she said simply: “I booked my ticket.”

But in the months leading up to Boston, Joanne was facing her own invisible battle. Fatigue, rashes, swelling. The week before the race, she got her answer: lupus. Days into heavy medication, I begged her to stay home, to rest. She came anyway.

Together we walked Boston top-to-tail. We soaked up Fenway Park. On race day, she texted encouragement the whole 42 kilometers. And when I staggered across the finish line, she caught me, literally, steadying me until I found my feet again.

In that moment, I promised: the next one is for her.

Chicago: Our Run
Now, Joanne and I are heading to Chicago. This time, I’ll run the marathon for Team Lupus, with her teenage daughter, my goddaughter, cheering us on.

Science shows that finding purpose outside yourself can reduce pain. Endurance athletes with a clear why can endure more, push further, and recover stronger. Joanne is my why.

Every time my body screams to stop, I think of her strength, her resilience, her grace.

When I cross that finish line in Chicago, I won’t cross it alone. Joanne’s energy will be in every stride, her story in every mile. This is our run. Because running is a team sport. No one gets to the start line alone.

To every runner out there: find your why. Find your team. When the miles get long and the pain sets in, that’s what will carry you through.

Kristen Anderson is a mindful, multi-sport athlete, health coach and mom of three boys who believes in whole-system health that engages mind, body and nervous system.
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