This morning, my family went for a run. My husband pushed the double stroller with our two younger kids on board. My eldest child rode her bike. My task was bike escort duty, running alongside her for encouragement and traffic monitoring. This meant that my daughter dictated the pace of our trek. Sometimes I sprinted in a futile effort to keep pace with her. Other times, I walked backward, coaxing her forward. The roads were wet from last night’s rain, and the air was so humid that we almost needed gills to breathe. Even so, it was peaceful and pleasant. We played at a local park halfway through, then headed home to proceed with the day.
Our kids have officially been inaugurated into a family tradition — the morning run. Most days, they enjoy it as much as we do. They relish the outdoor time and appreciate the predictability of our routine. These morning runs are special to me because I can share the hobby I love with the people I love. Maybe they will end up loving a different sport, art, or activity instead of running. That would be fine with us. Maybe they will love running, too.
The morning run routine now involves everyone. All photos courtesy of Sabrina Little.
You Are What You Love, an Introduction
If there is one thing that my family and friends know about me, it is that I love to run. There are many signs that I do. Running is the first thing I do in the morning and often in the afternoon. I rarely miss a day. I think about running a lot — my own and other people’s. I am a fan of the sport. I have an excellent watch tan thanks to running, and I am the kind of person who worries about the weight of my sunglasses as though an extra two grams of plastic on my face might alter my pacing per mile.
The point is, I love to run. My life is a testimony to that love. My life is saturated with my sport in a way that is visible to others. My sport directs my attention and dictates how I spend my time. However, running is not the only thing that I love. I love God, my family, my students, and research. I sometimes wonder if my life testifies to these loves the same way it testifies to my love of running. Are these loves also visible to my friends? Are these loves non-negotiable in the way that my training is? Do these loves occupy my attention and order my days? If I love them, they probably should (1).
Recently, I have been thinking about what the love of running teaches us about love in general. So far, this is what I have learned.
Love Forms Us
In “You Are What You Love,” James K.A. Smith explains the Augustinian insight that our loves — more so than our thoughts and beliefs — define us. Our loves orient us and direct our attention. They also dictate our daily rhythms, practices, and habits (2).
Nothing could be more obvious to a runner. Because I love running, I run daily. Because I run daily, I am formed by my running. This is true physically, of course. My tendons and muscles are strengthened in response to training. My lung capacity and efficiency increase. Running also forms my character. It transforms my patterns of thinking, feeling, and acting. Running makes me more perseverant and resilient, perhaps more conscientious, and probably a little more rigid, if we are being honest. When you love something, it is easy for your entire life to bend around it as though it is Jupiter and everything else is a moon.
Smith describes the relationship between loves and habits as working in two directions. Daily habits and routines arise in response to our loves, and our loves are also sustained by these habits. This two-way relationship is present in athletics. It goes like this: I love running. It calls me to participate. As I participate, I am transformed by my participation. I love it even more.
Sabrina Little engaging in one of her loves, running.
Love Trumps Duty
Last week, I ran in Texas. As is typical in Texas summer, the conditions were hot and humid. It felt like running in soup. It felt like deep frying a chicken, and the chicken was me. Regardless, I did not consider staying home. This was not from a sense of duty or obligation to train. I ran because I love to run. I prefer the activity to almost anything else.
If you are like me, then you have probably been praised for your discipline in running — for forcing yourself out the door to complete your runs, even in questionable conditions. And if you are like me, you probably feel a disconnect between how your motivations are perceived and what actually gets you out the door most days. It is not duty or discipline that compels me to run. It’s love.
Certainly, there are days when I linger on the possibility of staying indoors, especially when I am behind on my work or the weather is particularly cold. Those days, I either lean on discipline in order to train, or I stay home and defer to more important responsibilities. But those days are rare. Mostly I run because I love it. This motivation carries me further than duty or obligation ever could.
Smith cites a line by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry that captures this sentiment: “If you want to build a ship,” he counsels, “don’t drum up people to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea (3).” It is difficult to act from duty on a regular basis. It is easier to love the right things and let that love dictate our actions.
Our Lives Testify to What We Love
Sometimes I am in the grocery store, and I see someone wearing a GPS watch. I feel an odd kinship to them, and I wonder if we have competed in any of the same races. Sometimes I park by cars with 26.2 stickers, and I notice running shoes that have dirt on them — a sign that they have been used for their proper purpose.
Love leaves signs. In running, some of these signs are obvious — GPS watches, horrific tan lines, sneakers with the tread worn down, race event t-shirts, and bumper stickers that say 26.2. Runners are often cloaked in ways that signal an affection for the craft. Some of these signs are verbal. We talk about the things we love, sometimes to the chagrin of others. This is not unique to running. People talk about the things and people they love.
Some of these signs are internal. Again, our loves form us. Running shapes us physically and morally. This reshaping provides a testimony, or evidence, of our love.
Sabrina Little combines two of her loves in her life while going on a stroller run.
Final Thoughts
Running is not my only love. It is not my greatest or most important love either. Still, my love of the sport has taught me a lot about what it means to love something. Our loves shape us, motivate us, and leave a mark on us. In the words of James Smith, we are what we love.
Call for Comments
- In what ways does your love for running show up and shape your life?
- Does your love of running affect the other loves in your life positively or negatively?
Notes/References
- Some of these reflections featured in a talk I gave in August 2025 in Waco, Texas at the Global Congress on Sports and Christianity.
- Smith, J.K.A. 2016. You Are What You Love: The Spiritual Power of Habit. Brazos Press.
- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, 1950. The Wisdom of the Sands. Harcourt Brace.
