"What's BGR?"

Every time I see this question, I cringe. It's because it can possibly open a floodgate that I don't want to face. BGR stands for Black Girls RUN!. It is a wonderful organization that was created by Toni Carey and Ashley Hicks. The reason that I cringe is because of the potential argument that my support of this organization makes me a racist. The name of the group came from a comment made by a relative of one of the founders, that Black women don't run.

Well, one of the reasons that this organization has become so large is because they weren't the only ones that hear this. Whenever anyone else I know from another ethnic group runs, it's no big deal. No one says a word. However, when I started running, people were acting like I opened a meth lab. Especially people from my ethnic group. That is a norm for Black women runners. I could go to one of my White friends and tell them how--again--I had to deal with someone complaining that my hair in its natural state wasn't feminine. Without a doubt, I would get a lecture about why I shouldn't think about things like that and how race doesn't matter. Well, that's not what it's about, and it doesn't change the fact that it hurts. It hurts when you don't get any support for your efforts. It hurts when you are excited about finishing your first half and you can count on one hand how many of your relatives care. It hurts that they were more excited at the idea of you straightening your hair than completing a race that is 13.1 miles long. That hurt is real and no lecture will make it go away.

The hair obsession is a throwback from that old mentality that the more European your features were, the better chance you had in life. The less "African" you looked somehow equated to beauty. People I know were worried that wearing my hair the way it was designed to be worn would hurt my chances of employment or guarantee that I would never get married. I stopped chemically straightening my hair because for me, it was too big of a hassle if I was going to become a runner. I had a choice between chemically straightened hair and running without hair drama. Running won in a landslide. On a side note, I would never get involved with a guy that pays more attention to my hair than I do. That's just weird, but I digress.

Then there is the fact that I haven't lost any weight. I've gotten smaller, but the weightloss hasn't been dramatic. Of course, I know how my body works. I never lose weight initially. It always happens after months of work. I went almost a year without losing a pound and then suddenly the weight just fell off over the following six months. Well, I wouldn't care if I lost an ounce or not. I love running. I love the running community. I love everything about it. The only time my weight bothers me is when I can't find run gear in my size. The irony of the fitness clothing industry is that it really doesn't cater to those who need to exercise the most. I love the sound of my feet on the pavement. I love getting lost in a mile. When I see other runners, I get instantly jealous because they are running and I'm not. But few outside the running community get this. If I swallowed tapeworms or got gastric bypass, I would be cheered. When I tell people that I have changed my eating habits because I'm training for a race, I get bullied like you would not believe. And it isn't intended to be in malice, these people think they are helping me. I was actually harassed by a waitress in addition to the people that I was having lunch with because I wasn't eating. I wasn't eating because I was in training...plus I had already eaten before the invitation. I went after being nagged to attend.

When I go to the Black Girls RUN! Facebook page, I feel safe. I feel loved. True, I get that from Tribesport and other groups, too. If anything, I'm actually surprised when I meet people of other races who are negative about my decision to become a runner because it so rare. When I say that the runner community is a family, it is truly a family. Race, religion, gender, economic status...none of that matters. The only thing that matters is that we all have the same passion, and that passion is running. If I look like I'm going to throw up or just standing by myself at a starting line, it is only a matter of time before a complete stranger starts talking to me, and we finish the race as friends. However, I've found that I can't explain to them how it hurt my feelings again or angered me that someone felt the need to tell me how wrong I am for wanting to run. I can't tell them how I don't even bother talking about races anymore because of the lack of support. I can tell my BGR sisters this, and they will understand how I feel and why I feel that way because they go through the same things. There are so many reasons I need this--we need this--group to exist. It's for little things like recommendations for skirts that actually cover a thicker rear or any other body part that doesn't fit some archaic doctor's chart. It's for bigger things like getting cornered and being lambasted for "trying to act White" because of wanting to be a runner. It's not a rallying point for a group based on race, its a haven for those who deal with such a negative reception to becoming a runner because of their race and from their race.

I need this group to exist. We need this group to exist. Black Girls RUN! has been a gift to me, and I love my BGR sisters. Together we continue to hit the pavement, no matter what others say.