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Loida Casares Ruiz

Wife, Mother, Writer, Advertising Manager

Loida Casares Ruiz grew up in Northeast Houston. She graduated from the University of Houston with a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism and Minor in English. She received a Master of Arts in Communication in 2001. She works in advertising by day and is a mother, wife, and writer by night. She has al...

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The Truth About Running

Shoegirl's Corner

I just started running recently.  Not marathon running or anything like that.  I started off very slowly, in 15 and 20 minute increments.  Anyone who knows me knows I am not a runner.  That’s why this is such a big deal and a surprise to me, more than anyone.  I have actually gone as far as saying that I hate running.  In reality, I don’t hate it but I don’t love it either.  Running represents a deep seeded truth about my personality.

An incident that has stayed with me for my entire life happened in first grade.  My class was choosing who would represent our class in a relay race for Field Day.  Of course the class was choosing the best runners.  My good friend and front door neighbor Carl Deason was one of the good runners.  When someone, maybe the teacher, asked about me the whole class pretty much said in unison, “NO! Loida can’t run.”  I was indignant.  I remember looking over at Carl and even he was agreeing.  I was so embarrassed, and angry at the same time.

The relay race category that we were participating in consisted of two classes lining up side by side and the first two kids had to race each other to the end (maybe a 50 yard dash) and back.  When each kid got back they had to tag the next person in line and then the next person ran the dash. This went on until the first class to finish was the winner.

I was so angry that when we went out for PE and practiced for the relay race (even though some of us weren’t even participating we still had to practice) I ran as hard as I could.  I ran so fast that I beat the other kids who were running with me.

I remember all the kids being stunned.  They couldn’t believe that I ran so fast.  I remember feeling smug and even though my pride still hurt, because they didn’t choose me to run on Field Day, I felt a little better.  I felt like I could run if I wanted to.

Now that I think about that incident I’m amazed at how young I was and that I was so determined.  I was the same age that my daughter is now.  And yet my personality was already in place.  I was already the stubborn person that I am now.

When I decided to go to graduate school a friend of mine asked me in a concerned tone if I had really thought about it.  “Graduate School is hard,” I remember her saying, and then she reminded me that I didn’t have great grades as an undergrad. (Actually I graduated with at least a 3.0, but she had a 3.9 or 4.0)  I remember feeling indignant.  She may have meant well, but I was still angry and hurt by her question.  It took me four years to finish my course work and my thesis, but I did it. 

I’m also the one who always said that I was going to have my children natural.  Everyone told me that I was going to need an epidural.  I’m the one that said very adamantly, “NO I’m not!”  I was in labor for 23 hours without any pain medication.  The nurses were amazed.  When I found out I needed a C-section the doctor on call that weekend (not my doctor) and the anesthesiologist were amazed that I hadn’t had anything.  The poor anesthesiologist had to administer the epidural very carefully in between contractions.  My husband said to me, “Now I know that you’re really stubborn.”

The same thing happened when I was breast feeding.  I was determined to breast feed and I was in tears when I felt like I couldn’t continue after just a couple of weeks.  I did all that I could until I got it right and I got over the roughest patch.  I was triumphant when I was able to continue nursing until my daughter was five months old, despite returning to work. Later when I had my son I nursed him for eight months.

Determined?  Stubborn?  A lot of pride?  Maybe.  But at the same time I think it shows that when I set my mind to do something I will do it.  When I’m told that I can’t do something I rise above the challenge.  I have a feeling that my daughter will be the same way.

She is having her Field Day on May 23.  I missed it last year and later I was sorry that I did, so I made it a point to go this year and I took the day off. Part of me is secretly glad that all the kids in the class get to participate in Field Day.  It’s all in good fun! 

I’ll enjoy watching her participate in the Field Day activities and cheering her on. I’m sure that attending her Field Day will remind me of my Field Day in first grade. It’s kind of ironic that I just started running and that my daughter is in first grade, like I was when I was first told I couldn’t run. I feel like my life has come full circle. Now I can help my daughter through all the challenging times as she grows up, because I feel like I was just in first grade yesterday myself.