Content Warning: This section of the guide includes descriptions of rape and child sexual abuse.

When she was still a young girl, Amy began running on the backroads around her home in the Texas Panhandle. Running made her feel proud of her body and “free,” as if “nobody could touch [her]” (3). In both her childhood and her adulthood, running “took up so much space in [Amy’s] life” (7) that her friends often wondered why she was so committed. Subconsciously, Amy knew that she “ran because [she] was afraid of what [she] would feel if [she] sat still” (5).

Eventually, the rigorous physical activity took a toll on Amy’s body, and she underwent multiple surgeries on her hips and lower back. She visited a physical therapist who gently suggested that Amy was “doing too much” (5). The therapist insisted that Amy’s body was trying to tell her something, and she needed to slow down and listen. The suggestion made Amy feel “tight, zipped up, locked away” (5), and she left the office in tears. Her “need to push harder, to run faster, to keep moving” was her “tell,” revealing “something about [her]self [she] did not know” (6).