Amie Graysen Finds Her Stride

From Timed Runs to Taking Space:

Amie Graysen’s Running Story

I’m going to be real with you right out of the gate: when I sat down to shape this interview into a story, one of my early notes said “baker.” I knew of Amie from Threads and she had recently been posting about baking bread and cake. The athlete that sat in front of me, showed up honestly, laughing at the messy parts, and still chose to move is Amie Graysen and we did talke about food but not before we talked getting staretd in running.

If you’ve ever felt like you were “too slow,” “too late,” or “not built like a runner,” Amie’s story is the reminder you didn’t know you needed: there is space for you at the starting line.

Amie didn’t fall in love with running because of an inspirational quote stitched on a tank top. She got pushed into it the way a lot of everyday athletes do…..through life requirements, not lofty dreams. “Work was what got me into running, and I hated every minute of it because it was timed,” she told me. Military PT runs. Early mornings. A clock that didn’t care if you were having a good day or your body felt like a cranky old car.

And yet… here we are. A decade later, Amie’s still here. Still chasing growth and finding community. She is figuring out shoes, fueling, and what it means to keep showing up when life decides to do that thing where it lif-es.

The Accidental Start That Turned Into a Real One

If you’re looking for the “moment” Amie became a runner, it wasn’t some magical sunrise jog where birds landed on her shoulders like she’s a Disney princess. It was Team Red, White and Blue (Team RWB) in 2015. A friend pressured her to join. She resisted. Then she gave in. And the difference wasn’t the miles…..it was the people. It is always the people.

“Team RWB started everything off for me… it was great community. I love being part of it,” she said. Community is the cheat code nobody wants to admit matters. Not because it makes running easy, it doesn’t, but because it makes running feel less lonely.

Then Amie did something that still makes me laugh in the best way: she went from “I don’t want to do this” to leading it. The weekly Monday Fun Run needed someone to run point, and Amie stepped into it. “So basically that’s what we had… took over that… and I was just like… all right, fine, we’ll do it,” she said.

That right there is how “getting started” often looks for everyday athletes: reluctant entry, followed by a small leadership step, followed by consistency that quietly changes your identity. You don’t wake up one day as “a runner.” You become someone who keeps showing up and then you become someone other people can follow.

And whether Amie wants the title or not, that’s coaching. Not the certification-on-the-wall kind but more the “pull up on Monday and we’ll figure it out together” kind. The kind that creates a culture where nobody has to prove they belong.

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The Half Marathon That Tried to Steal the Finish Line

Every runner has a “welcome to the sport” moment. Amie’s was her first half marathon, and it was… how do I say this politely? A comedy of errors with a side of chaos.

Her friends convinced her to sign up. She had done 5Ks, felt warmed up, thought she knew what she was getting into. Then the course hit her with the fine print: part road race, part trail (twice as it was a looped event), and apparently part “surprise, you’re the last finisher.”

“It was a trail run and a road race combined… and I’m just like, this is not what I signed up for,” she told me. The trail slowed her down. She fought through it anyway. And then she came in toward the end only to find the finish line being dismantled.

Yes. You read that right. They were pulling down the finish line while she was still out there earning it.

“Come to find out, they were actually tearing down the finish line… I had a police escort… and some people were like, ‘hold on… there’s one more person coming,’” she said.

I asked how it felt, because that moment can cut two ways: either you feel erased, or you feel seen. Amie didn’t sugarcoat it: “In the moment, it was just like, damn, that sucks… but I got it done.”

That’s a lesson you can take straight off the course: sometimes your effort doesn’t get the applause you imagined. Sometimes the “finish line” isn’t dressed up for you. But you still get to finish. You still get to claim the work. You still get to take up space.

Why She Keeps Coming Back When It’s Hard

I always ask this question because it’s the most honest one: why do you keep doing this when running is objectively not easy?

Amie’s answer sounded like every everyday athlete who’s ever laced up on a day they didn’t feel like themselves.

“It’s my time… me pushing myself… me knowing that I can do the hard stuff,” she said. She also said something that made me nod hard enough I almost fell off my chair: running can be therapeutic.

“Running is my therapy… movement helps so much,” she told me, especially when mental health gets heavy and motivation disappears. She’s had long stretches where life demanded more than she had to give. At one point, she went four years without running, and coming back wasn’t a triumphant montage. Her return was slow, patient, and full of grace.

“Walking helps first, and then little spurts of running… like an old car,” she said.

Sounds like life advice, doesn’t it? Start where you are. Get it moving. Don’t wait until you feel perfect to begin.

Patience, Perspective, and the “Little Things”

When I asked what running has taught her outside of sport, Amie didn’t give me a motivational poster. She gave me something better: “Patience. Lots of patience… it’s the little things that matter.”

And she defined “little things” the way real people do: getting out the door even when stress is loud. Showing up even if the training plan isn’t perfectly executed. Stacking small efforts until they become a new normal.

“That little thing of just stepping outside… snowballs into other things,” she said.

Her perspective has shifted over the years, too. She laughed about looking at routes now and realizing, “seriously, that’s only two miles… I can do that easy.” That’s what happens when you build evidence and confidence. The hard things you’ve done change what you believe you can do next.

And lately, Amie’s “next” isn’t only distance. It’s speed. She’s noticed she was faster years ago and wants that back, which means leaning into workouts that make a lot of runners groan: tempo runs and intervals. Not because they’re fun but because they’re a challenge she’s willing to face.

Strength Training, Shoes, and Asking for Help

If Amie could give new runners a starter kit, it wouldn’t be a watch and a playlist. It would be this:

“Patience. Be kind to yourself. Don’t rush it… incorporate strength training… and don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

That last part matters. Because the biggest lie new runners believe is that everyone else has it figured out. They don’t. We just ask better questions.

Amie asks questions about shoes a lot and I love it. Because there is no universal “best running shoe.” There’s only the best shoe for your body, your feet, and your life. She even pointed out something most people learn the hard way: “Even when you go to a running store… they can get it wrong too… you have to do what feels good for you.”

This is what taking up space looks like in practice: trusting your own experience, seeking guidance, and staying willing to learn even without needing to be the loudest person in the room.

Super Halfs, A Marathon Goal, and Seeing Cities By Foot

Amie’s goals are equal parts athletic and human. She’s working through the Super Halfs series and wants to run a marathon before turning 50. Not because she needs a medal to feel worthy. She wants the experience.

And because she loves traveling through running. “That’s one reason why I love running… it’s the best way to see a city,” she said.

Of course, because Amie is Amie, the city tour includes snacks. She told me about spotting a Sprinkles ATM mid-run in Nashville like it was a landmark. Food is her orbit. Honestly? Respect.

Her favorite races, Nashville and New Orleans, aren’t her favorites because of time. They’re her favorites because the community showed up. The cheering and the support were second to none. It made her feel as if she were not out there alone.

That’s the Run Tri Bike heartbeat, right there. Not perfection. Not podiums. People.

What Readers Can Take From Amie

Amie Graysen’s story is proof that you can start running for reasons you don’t even like… and still end up building a life where movement helps you stay connected.

If you’re new, take her advice: be kind to yourself, strength train, ask for help, and keep showing up.

If you’re returning after a break, remember this: the plan will still be there. Your pace doesn’t decide your worth. And some days, the win is simply stepping outside.

And if you ever feel like the finish line is getting pulled down before you arrive?

Keep going anyway. You’re still allowed to finish. You’re still allowed to take up space.

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