Maybe I’ll go for a run tomorrow. Enough months have passed since the birth of my baby. It’s time to get back out there.

Going for a run will be good for me. I know how good running is for my mental health. It’s movement. It’s freedom.

And how good it will be for my body! Maybe I could lose some of the baby weight. Get back to how things were. Get back into my old clothes.

My first run is a big step on the road back to competitive sport. Oh how I miss the thrill of competition. The companionship of a team. The grit of training. The feeling of being fit.

My first run is a big step on the road back to being… me again.

Yes, I’ll go for a run tomorrow!

But now it comes to it…

When will be the right time? I’ve got to fit it around the baby’s feeds. And who will look after the kids? Is it OK to ask for ‘me time’?

And if I do get some child-free time… there’s the cleaning, the shopping, the cooking, the washing, the admin. Shouldn’t I be doing them?

And I’m so tired. The baby has been up half the night. The toddler has been up since the crack of dawn. I’m too tired to run.

Can my body even handle running? Yes, my Mummy MOT* cleared me to run, but sleep deprivation leaves me more open to the risk of injury. So do the breastfeeding hormones. Will running be comfortable for me as a breastfeeding mother? And will my pelvic floor hold up?

(*Postpartum physio check - strongly recommended!)

So maybe I won’t go for a run.

Nevermind.

But I do mind.

I miss what I used to be.

I feel frustrated about what I am.

And I grieve for what I will never be again.

Sport was such a big part of my life. A big part of me.

I thought I would be one of those mothers who bounced back from childbearing into a decent level of sport again. I’ve seen many friends and former teammates do it. But that hasn’t been my story.

The truth is that motherhood can strip us of so many of the things which define us. Our sport, our work, our productivity, our friendship circles, our body image, our independence.

Many mothers are left wondering where is the me that’s left behind in all this? Who even am I anymore?

And it’s not just about being a parent. Motherhood aside, I know I will never be the athlete I was at my peak in my 20s. For all sorts of reasons many of us have sport stripped away from us - be that age, injury, illness, time, or numerous other circumstances.

And what do we do with that?

What does Jesus have to say to us in this?

“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me - just as the Father knows me and I know the Father - and I lay down my life for the sheep.”

John 10:14

Jesus says I am your good shepherd and I know you.

I know you as deeply as I know the Father who I have known in perfect intimacy for eternity.

I know you and I love you so much I laid down my life for you.

You might not know who you are but I know you and I love you.

Known and loved.

Whether you’re a sports player or not.

Whether you’re elite or amateur.

Whether you’re proud of your sporting career or full of regret.

Whether your sporting future looks bright or is over.

Whether people recognise your achievements or never know your name.

Known and loved.

Whether you’re a mother or not.

Whatever your body looks like.

Whatever your employment status.

Whatever you’ve done today.

However you view yourself.

Known and loved.

You might not feel you know yourself anymore.

But by Jesus you are known and loved. Forever.

Rosie Woodbridge

Rosie is a Mum of two, she goes to St Mary's Church Basingstoke and writes occasionally for Christians in sport