I Won The Race I Ran Today: A Mother’s Promise to Choose Health

For most of her life, Tammy McKay was the person who put everyone else first.

A single mother of two sons, devoted daughter, and accountant living in Connecticut, Tammy has dealt with chronic depression throughout her life, while frequently shelving her emotional burdens to prioritize caring for others. But in 2016, a pivotal moment forced her to confront an uncomfortable truth: she needed to start taking care of herself.

From trauma to transformation

Depression first became an element of Tammy’s life due to childhood trauma. She bore witness to her sister’s difficulties with spina bifida, fighting through 40 operations in her remarkable 17 years of life. “My sister was a fighter,” she remembers. “We lost her on my twelfth birthday.”

“Home life was an emotionally abusive environment; it left a lasting mark,” says Tammy. “I was the shy child. I struggled to make friends, so I was always a loner.” The constant tension at home made it difficult for her to develop social confidence and she found herself retreating inward, using isolation as a shield against the emotional turbulence that surrounded her.

While the scars of her early years cast a long shadow, another tragedy in adulthood led her to a pivotal reassessment of her life. Seeing her mother’s health gradually deteriorate before her death made Tammy realize that she needed to make different choices for herself and her children. “Mom didn’t really take care of herself,” she remembers. “She would belittle herself about her health, but she wouldn’t do anything about it and I ended up watching her decline for two years.”

“When I finally had time to grieve, I decided 'I’m not going to do that to my kids,'” she says. Cultivating motivation out of her grief, Tammy joined a gym, where she discovered a free challenge program that perfectly suited her schedule and fitness needs. The 30-minute workouts became her first steps toward achieving her self-care goals, marking a significant shift in her approach to long-term health and wellbeing, creating the initial momentum that has continued to carry her forward.

The power of running together

In the midst of her nascent fitness journey, Tammy noticed a challenge called “Run the Year" repeatedly appearing in her Facebook feed. The premise of embarking on a year-long running endeavor intrigued her, and serendipitously, she had recently won a cash prize in a weight loss challenge. “I’m walking five miles a day anyway,” she thought, “so why not put the money into that?”

That decision would prove to be transformative—it was the first time she could remember ever investing directly in herself, a profound shift in mindset for someone who had always prioritized others.

Through the Facebook group for the challenge, Tammy found inspiration in others’ achievements. “There were people older than me, people who looked different than me, and they’re saying, ‘yeah, I just did a 5K, I just did a 10K.’ And I’m thinking to myself, ‘you know, I can do it, too.’”

This thought led to her first 5K, which was quickly followed by another. Soon, she discovered “Run 169,” a challenge to run a timed race in all 169 towns in Connecticut, setting a goal that opened the running floodgates for her.

Joining these groups and challenges exposed Tammy to the running community’s warmth and inclusivity, which has been invaluable to her growth and progress. “I found the most supportive people. I can ask questions in group pages, and the number of responses is amazing,” she says. “I’m type A, always there to help other people, and I have a hard time asking for help myself. But once I started talking about why this meant so much to me, people really responded. It was overwhelming; it really showed me how powerful sharing your journey can be.”

Becoming part of the team

Tammy’s blossoming community soon expanded even further when she discovered Still I Run. “I thought, ‘Oh my gosh, this is perfect for me,’” she shares. The organization’s mission to help people improve their mental health through running deeply resonated with her own experience of using running to manage her depression. “It felt like a match that was meant to be.”

Eventually, Tammy became a Still I Run ambassador, finding purpose in connecting with others about her story. Her involvement in this supportive network of runners hoping to defeat the stigma around mental health expanded her idea of what was personally possible, leading her to an ambitious decision: she was going to run the Chicago Marathon as part of Team Still I Run.

After a week of nervously waffling while filling out the required lottery paperwork, she finally gathered the courage to submit the application. When she was notified that her entry was accepted, another wave of emotion rolled over her. “I opened the email and it says ‘congratulations, you’ve been selected!’ and all I can think is, ‘oh, crap,’” she remembers. “I was excited, but now I actually had to run a marathon.”

New training priorities suddenly emerged. “I was working with a running coach to help avoid injury again, so we had to shift from that preventative focus to base building for the race,” she says. “I was doing great, getting consistent with my intervals.”

“I’m thinking, ‘okay, I got this.’”

The perseverance of a marathon finisher

Unfortunately, getting to the starting line in Chicago wasn’t a linear path. “In February, I got very sick. I ended up in the emergency room, tested positive for the flu, and a CAT scan revealed that I had pneumonia in my left lung,” she says. “The following weekend, I was back in the ER and they discovered that it had spread from one side to the other—I now had double pneumonia.”

Despite being largely sidelined for several months, Tammy’s determination never wavered. With the help of her coach, she adapted her training schedule and kept her focus on the bigger picture: representing a cause close to her heart and showing others that health challenges—mental or physical—don’t define your limits. “I’m a very stubborn, very strong-willed Scorpio,” she laughs.

Come race day in October, her stubbornness and ability to adapt paid off. After maintaining a strong pace through the first 13.1 miles, she made the conscious decision to walk the second half and ensure that she would finish just as strong. “I mentally prepared myself that even if I had to walk it, I was going to cross that finish line,” she says. “It didn’t matter how I got there. It was just heads down, keep going forward. There was no quitting allowed that day.”

Her modified approach proved to be an effective strategy that carried her to the end of the race. “I actually started passing people who were in earlier corrals than me,” she recalls. “And the community along the route was absolutely amazing. It was just an incredible experience. Of course, now I’m like ‘I’m going to need a redemption marathon.’”

Redefining victory

Tammy continues to use running as a tool for managing her mental health, though some days are harder than others. “It can be a matter of forcing myself to just take that first step out the door,” she admits. “But once I’m out, it’s different, and when I get back, I feel so much better.” To make sure she sticks to her goals, she utilizes a number of accountability strategies, including scheduling runs during lunch breaks and having her boyfriend check in on her running plans.

Despite the challenges she faced in Chicago, Tammy’s enthusiasm for marathon running hasn’t diminished. “I learned a lot from my coach about listening to my body,” she says. “And now I know I can finish, even if things don’t go exactly as planned.” She’s already considering her “redemption marathon,” potentially taking on the Detroit Free Press Marathon with a friend who was inspired by her Chicago Marathon experience.

When it comes down to it, though, running isn’t just about the distance she’s covered; it’s about the journey of self-discovery that it continues to provide her. Along that journey, she’s developed a new definition of what it truly means to ‘win’:

“People will ask me, ‘Did you win it?’ And I look at them and my response is always, ‘I won the race I ran today.’ I may not have come in first overall—I may have come in dead last—but you know what? I won my race because I was out there doing it.”