Grambassador 2026 Recap- Ashley

My 2026 Grandma’s: The Nuances of Resilience
Resilience is a trait that is highly revered despite how much those who are resilient never asked to be.
I say this because as I’ve taken the time to reflect on my experiences running the Great Grandma’s Half Challenge, the centralized theme around how nuanced resilience is kept coming up for me. That for as many times as I’ve pushed through very hard things and have inspired other people with that act of resilience, I never asked to be resilient. And for people in multiply marginalized communities who run at the intersections of experiencing racism, sexism, ableism, classism, etc., their resilience comes from a place of survival that they never asked for. Resilience is a nuanced trait that in sharing my experiences, I want to bring more light to.
To set the scene, Grandma’s is and will always be my favorite weekend of the year! I look forward to it every year, and had everything planned down to my grocery list, what time I would eat, what time I would leave, etc. As an autistic runner, having these routines locked in is so important in order to avoid overstimulation, especially racing multiple races. But my plans were derailed when my cat’s automatic food dispenser wouldn’t cooperate and with how rigid my thinking patterns are because of my autism, I’m glad I had dialectic behavior therapy with preplanned skills to help me avoid disaster; because for autistic people who have incredibly rigid thinking patterns like I do, this small change in the plan is enough to cause a violent meltdown. But lucky for me, Olivia Rodrigo released an impeccable new album with zero skips that I could devote all of my focus on to get me through the anxiety that I was feeling; and while I was at it, I listened to her entire discography the whole drive from the Twin Cities to Duluth that really helped me feel better.
And then once I hit Duluth and the packet pick up traffic, panic set in.
I arrived in Duluth almost an hour and a half before the 5k start thinking that was enough time to get my packet, walk around the expo, etc, and I was wrong. Very wrong. I sat in over an hour worth of traffic, trying so hard not to have a panic attack, texting my roommates for the weekend to pick up my packet if they could to no response, and I started to cry. The overstimulation was so overwhelming, the urge to self harm was so strong, and the anger I felt in the moment because the small change in my routine had caught up to me was really hard to emotionally regulate.
When I finally did get parked, it was 12:45. And so, I took my bath towel I had stored in my trunk, wrapped it around myself, and changed out of my jean shorts and into what I was planning to race in for shorts. Then I took off my shirt and went in my sports bra, grabbed my flip belt, my headphones, and my ID, and ran to the DECC to get my packet. I’m really grateful to a volunteer named Nicole because she let me leave my packet bag and let me take my bin and run out of the DECC. I was able to go to the bathroom, take a deep breath, and make it to the 5k start with two minutes to spare to race! The race itself was good other than needing to dodge flash photography on the course because it was raining to avoid a seizure. I was very stressed, and that was the last thing I needed to happen. I finished in a time of 28:51, which has been the average time I’ve been finishing 5ks this season so I was happy with that since I knew I would be running the half the next day.
Next came the ambassador photo after the 5k and I was really excited to see everyone who had worked so hard to promote the event! It becomes almost like an online family. With recent events with photography, I had to ask about flash because of my seizures multiple times because there have been times where someone has said they turned the flash off, and it hasn’t been turned off. Once the picture was over, I really wanted to stay to support the speakers at the diversity, equity, and inclusion panel, but the flash photography at the event was so strong that I had to remove myself from the event because I knew it had set off my seizures and it was a matter of time. Once I got outside the DECC, all I remember is saying “I don’t feel good.” And then everything faded out.
When I have seizures, I lose all feeling in my body and crumple. So when I was with my friend Carrie, she told me I fell to the ground afterwards. I still don’t know if I hit the ground hard or not. And then the sensation of having a seizure is a scary feeling because for me, I know my body is violently shaking and there’s nothing I can do about it because I barely know or understand where I am or how I got there, and I don’t know how long this is going to last for. And especially out in a public place, I had no idea who was around me, what was happening, until I woke up to an EMT asking me if I could answer their questions and if I couldn’t that they would need to take me to the hospital. I have an extensively written medical ID on my phone for this exact reason, but when I couldn’t vocally communicate that, it was difficult to avoid that situation, but I was able to reach into my fanny pack, access my medical ID, and give the EMTs the information they need because that’s the way my brain is wired to avoid medical trauma. Once I was able to use my text to speech to communicate with them what I needed, I was able to do what I needed to do in order to get back to my hotel room with the help of Carrie helping me to walk back.
And with that seizure my entire racing goals went out the window. Or so I thought.
I woke up race morning just ready to take on the morning and to do my best after the seizure. And so, I had my preplanned breakfast, put on my singlet and my glitter, got everything else I needed, and headed out the door with my roommates who were also running the half. We made our way to the start where I made my way to the lactation tent to drop off my medication where I sat with a group of pumping parents who welcomed me with open arms. They told me I was amongst a bunch of moms who would take care of me, and that they did! They made sure I had water, that I went to the bathroom, that I had eaten all my graham crackers. And this was where I started thinking about resilience because these parents were all pumping milk beforehand, and were on the brink of racing a half marathon afterwards! That’s incredible. I thought to myself, “it’s incredible what the human body can do.”
And so, by the time I got everything I needed, I made my way back to my corral, not without saying hello to one of my friends Jorge first and wishing him good luck; and I thought at that point I was ready to go, until my endometriosis had other plans.
When I had my hysterectomy back in November, my OBGYN let me know that when she operated on me that my intestines were inflamed. That usually happens after I have endo flare ups, and that’s what was happening as I was walking back to my corral. Unbearable cramps, the urge to poop myself, and an endless line of portapotties since I left the lactation/medical tent that I wouldn’t be able to cut the line. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to start the race until I went. So I gritted my teeth, bared through the pain, finally made it and went to the bathroom, and off to the races I went.
When I started running, I still felt the flare up, but I took some extra salt to help ease some of the pain I was feeling, took some deep breaths, and told myself that I wasn’t going to go out as fast as I did at Eau Claire. Which I kept myself to. My goal before the seizure was sub 2:10 so I told myself that I was going to race based on my first mile, so when the first mile read off in my ear as 9:45, I was so scared that I went out too fast. I kept telling myself to relax and then the second mile came at 9:43. Reminding myself to just run the mile I’m in. 9:54. It was the 4th mile that I started to feel tired, so I told myself “if you have to back off the rest of the way, that’s fine. You had a seizure yesterday. You’re doing the best you can.” But then the mile read off as 10:03, and when I heard that, my brain kicked in and told me “that’s only 9 seconds off the pace you want for sub 2:10.” That’s when I coached myself to regroup, to grab water at the water stop, and then I fueled up with fruit snacks and salt, and I was ready to keep pushing. 9:55 for mile 5, 9:48 for mile 6. And as I kept pushing and pushing, I realized that with every mile that sub 2:10 was something I could still achieve on the day even after having a seizure! I was feeling the hype of the crowd and letting them carry me through the tougher miles that were ahead of me. 10:06, 10:08. And as I made it to Lemon Drop Hill, I knew that I needed to be smart about getting up the hills strong to make it the rest of the way to the finish. And so, I made a plan, coached myself, and did the best I could with the plan I had. 9:50, 10:11. I knew with that 10:11 that I was going to need to make up ground if I wanted sub 2:10 still, so I had to keep pushing if it was going to make it. And I knew that I was coming up to the greatest cheer zone to get the push I needed.
When I got up to the cheer zone, I saw a sign that said “make your cats proud” which immediately made me think of Luna and Novi. I knew I was making them proud, but it’s always nice to get that reminder. And then I saw so many familiar faces cheering me on with arms stretched out for high fives which I wasn’t expecting but I was so grateful for. Those high fives and cheers were exactly what I needed to finish the last part of the race strong! 9:54, 9:53. It was at this point that I thought sub 2:10 was still on the table so I went for it in the last mile and ran a 9:33 last mile and an 8:39 last quarter mile to finish 13.25 in a time of 2:10:52. So while not running the tangents unofficially got me my sub 2:10, officially, I missed my goal by :52 seconds and I’m not mad about it at all! I went from thinking I wouldn’t have any sort of race goals, to coming SO close to the goal I had for myself and missing it by less than a minute. But more than that, it’s the fastest I’ve run a half marathon since I got my surgically implanted heart rate monitor and was diagnosed with inappropriate sinus tachycardia last year.
I am so proud of the resilience that I showed on race day! And also at the same time, that is the nuance of the conversation: for people in marginalized communities, who run with identities that are either not well represented, or are systemically oppressed and face barriers in the sport and still run in the face of those barriers, resilience isn’t always a choice. Resilience is representation, it means that we fight to be included when we shouldn’t have to. For runners who have flare ups of disabilities like I do who struggle to run, who struggle with poverty and live in food deserts, for BIPOC runners and especially BIPOC women who don’t always feel safe running outside; especially at night. For runners who run in areas without fresh air, without clean water, without access to healthcare to get the care they need to stay injury free. And especially for multiply marginalized runners who experience more than one of these barriers at the same time, it means they’re here, and they’re not going anywhere because running is and will always be political.