An Ode to Social Connection (and Mothers!)
Several years ago, when working on my graduate degree, I spent a semester researching social behavior theories and the effect they may have on physical activity. My findings reenforced my own personal bias that one of the strongest indicators in successfully reaching your fitness goals is determined by the company you keep. “Social support” not only helps you in staying active, but also builds self-confidence, or “self-efficacy”, both important indicators in lifestyle sustainability.
I’ve seen this play out nearly every day in both my personal and professional life. Even as an unaware twenty-year-old aerobics instructor, I noticed how people who were brand new to group fitness—often unsure and hesitant—quickly became passionately committed to their classes. This is also the dynamics that supports my current relationships with personal training clients. The nerdy explanation is known as the social cognitive theory, articulating the casual mechanisms through which efficacy beliefs, outcome expectations, sociostructural factors, and goals influence behavior. Or in other words; find your tribe.
Finding your tribe may start with a walking group in your neighborhood, a spinning class, a bird watching group, or alas, a personal trainer. My community came together 30 years ago when I moved back to Bozeman with an infant and a toddler, feeling overwhelmed by the challenge of balancing a demanding career, aging parents, and sleepless nights. Over the next decade, seven like-minded moms found each other, gradually forming a close-knit group we came to call 'the running moms”. Three decades later, we've evolved into more of a 'meno-posse,' but the bond we share has carried us through more than any therapist could ever unpack.
Over the past thirty years, we’ve held each other’s hands—and sometimes carried each other—through everything from twisted ankles to cancer diagnoses. We watched our babies grow, sending them off to proms, college, and eventually back to Bozeman with children of their own. The trail has heard our tears, secrets, laughter, and dreams. Every birthday has been marked with a run and a tailgate toast, and destination races have become treasured traditions etched on our calendars. Through it all, our footsteps have stayed in rhythm, even as our lives changed around us.
The miles we’ve logged together tell only part of the story. What really matters are the quiet conversations at mile three, the shared silence at mile six, the laughter that carries us up the final hill. Social connection isn’t something we scheduled—it happened between deep breaths and early morning pavement. It grew stronger with every shared hardship, every celebration, every unexpected showing-up. We came for the workout, but we stayed because we found each other. And in that space—sweaty, unfiltered, and fiercely present—we discovered a kind of connection that no app, no group chat, and no occasional coffee date could replicate.
My hope is that everyone finds a circle like this—where shared effort turns into shared life. Where showing up for a run becomes showing up for each other. Because in a world that can feel rushed and disconnected, there’s nothing more grounding than finding people who meet you on the trail, in the mess, and through the milestones. May you find your version of this connection—however it shows up, and wherever your path leads.
