She’s been dubbed the “pregnant runner” and the “flying flower” (for her trademark floral hair accessory). She also holds plenty of other titles, including 2012 Olympian, seven-time USA Champion, American 4x800 record holder, author, advocate, activist, and mother. That last one is the one that makes 34-year-old Alysia Montaño most proud. In fact, when she decided to launch her nonprofit bravely broke her nondisclosure agreement: &Mother.
The organization aims to support a woman’s choice to pursue a career and motherhood—and to thrive at both. The group wants to dismantle the frustrating and all-too-common roadblocks that working mothers face.
Montaño’s known for getting the work done on the racing circuit, too. And in 2014 she went next-level: At 34 weeks pregnant, she ran the 800 meter at the USATF Outdoor Championships, finishing about 35 seconds slower than her personal best from four years prior in Monaco. (She pulled an encore in 2017.) Her name rang out even louder off the track just last year on Mother’s Day when she bravely broke her nondisclosure agreement with sponsors Asics and Nike to share a powerful (and damning) op-ed in The Races & Places exposing the sports companies’ lack of maternity protections for sponsored, professional athletes.
for a lack of Black bodies on its covers. Talk to us about that, Keeping Track. Shes been dubbed the Runner’s World for a history of rarely featuring Black runners on its covers. (Fair.)
Long overdue, Montaño is on the cover of the current issue of Runner’s World, and it felt like the right time to have a real and frank conversation about all of it—anti-Black racism and discrimination in running; why representation is crucial on magazine covers and beyond; and the challenges women face balancing motherhood with careers. We sat down—via Zoom—for a candid chat.
This interview has been edited for length, clarity, and narrative flow. Read the full transcript at runnersworld.com/alysiatranscript.
Runner’s World: You’ve long been working to normalize motherhood for professional athletes. Have you always been inclined toward activism?
Alysia Montaño: Activism naturally is me. I am a woman, I’m a Black woman, I’m a Black mother. So many things have been placed upon me as an individual, that activism is a natural way for me to move the needle not only for myself, but for future generations. I feel like anybody who is a marginalized person should be an activist. I don’t want to leave my destiny in other people’s hands.
RW: You ran the 800 at USATF Outdoor Championships in 2014 while eight months pregnant. What was your intention?
AM: Pregnancy is not an illness. I didn’t feel like I couldn’t run. I didn’t feel like [it] was the worst thing ever, like my career was over. I just felt like that was the rhetoric, like, “Oh, shoot, your life’s over.” I was 100 percent against that. I was grateful to be starting my family.
I ran… and I’m like, I’m still here. This is what it looks like being a woman in my profession continuing her career. This is what it looks like as a pregnant person exercising. We can do this, women. If you feel OK to do it, you can do it.
RW: Your nonprofit, &Mother, is about supporting women and choosing both motherhood and career. What do you hope to accomplish?
AM: Our mission is to break down barriers that limit a woman’s choice for pursuing career and motherhood. What I hope to achieve is… honestly, to bring the barriers to the forefront so people can ultimately see all of these obstacles, all of these hurdles that we’re up against, and that don’t have to be there to allow a woman to pursue and thrive in her career.
My sponsor at the time when I became a mom was Asics. Two months after I had my daughter, a woman had left [the company] who was the athlete representative. Two men [replaced her] and told me, “If you don’t make this Olympic team, you’re not going to have an opportunity to be sponsored and to continue your career.” I was already planning on coming back. Nobody had to tell me to continue my career, but they felt like they were the authority over my body and my career because I became a mom.
RW: Your 2019 Races & Places video op-ed, “Nike Told Me to Dream Crazy, Until I Wanted a Baby,” calls out Nike and Asics for their lack of maternity protections and support for mothers during their athletic careers. This lights a match under your #DreamMaternity social media campaign. How did you feel seeing the impact that speaking your truth had on so many people?
AM: I felt so much relief knowing that women now felt comfortable and confident sharing their stories and letting their voices be heard. Because it’s scary. People don’t want to hear it. When you ask for support around the barriers that you are facing trying to thrive in your career, they see it as excuses.
To know that there was a huge sea of women in all industries that were facing these issues and were unhappy with it made me really want to charge forward and move #DreamMaternity from movement to impact.
With &Mother, I thought about… sharing those stories, but also pulling together and accruing sponsorships that would do the things we need for women to be able to thrive in their career as moms. Things like childcare, a facility [at] the track. The LPGA at professional golf tournaments has little facilities in place for childcare when women are competing.
We want companies to implement these things themselves. We want what the WNBA has done with its [collective] bargaining agreement. They talked about, “Hey, I’m a mom, I need another room. Hey, I’m a mom, I need to fly my kid with me. Hey, these are the things that I need to thrive in my career and motherhood.”
We’re starting with sports because sports is a microcosm of what’s happening in the world.
RW: What came out of the op-ed—specifically with Nike and Asics—did you see any changes?
AM: I saw Asics hide. They have not made a single public statement. Nike’s been the leader of the industry and they were my first sponsor. They were the ones that sparked this whole conversation where I was like, “What happens if I become pregnant?” They’re telling me, blatantly, without blinking their eyes, “Oh, yes, we’ll just pause your contract and stop paying you.” I’m like, “Oh, my gosh. OK, I want to continue my career. I clearly need to move on.”
Nike was always marketing the lighter, whiter version of anything that was me. I just didn’t fit their look. For women, that’s part of what we are fighting against. Our performance can’t ever be enough. It has to be like, “Well, how do you look when you do it?” For men, it can be however raw they want to be, but we’re going to talk about their performance. As a woman, the right look, I can only imagine… is probably lighter, straighter hair, less muscles—all things that are anti-Black, to be honest.
Nike did come around about three months later with a bold statement—I don’t want to give them too much [credit] because there’s still more work to be done and I want to make sure the proof is in the pudding. They said that they were amending all of their women’s contracts to allow more time for women to come back to their career [after pregnancy]. I hope that it was as genuine as the world took it. Before, we were signing contracts where they equated pregnancy with injury. You have the same negative consequences if you couldn’t get back after being injured for six weeks.
RW: Black women have led the charge in so many of these movements. How do you think about your role now as a Black woman, athlete, and mother?
AM: It’s so interesting to be having this conversation with you, in particular, a Black woman. I feel like, when asked what’s my role right now as a Black woman athlete and mother activist, I’m like, “How much work do I need to take on for it to be a role that I have?” My role in this has been the oppressed. My role in this has been the fighter. My role in this has been the yeller. I’ve been the one that’s been on fire. My question, to everybody else who’s not Black, Indigenous, or a person of color, is “What’s your role in this?”
RW: How have you experienced anti-Black racism and discrimination in your career?
AM: One that really stands out was in 2011. It was like a year of not wanting the Black girl to be the hero in the story.
I was the defending champion from our USA National Championships. In 2010, I’d also run the fastest time in the world. I finished with a World Indoor bronze medal. It would be a no-brainer that when you’re announcing Alysia Montaño [at] USA Nationals in 2011 that you probably would mention the defending champion, the person finishing with the fastest time in the world that year. It was really surprising to me that the commentators announced Phoebe Wright and Maggie Vessey. It happened to be the blond-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful girls, very fast as well, but I was the defending champion. I finished the fastest time in the world, and there was not a mention of me.
I ended up winning that race. They had no choice but to mention my name a couple of times when I was running because I went straight to the front, and I pressed the pace; they kind of were still trying to call the race with Phoebe and Maggie.
I was furious. I made the team, winning, defending my title. We went to Daegu, South Korea, for World Championships later that year. I was determined to make a mark. I’m representing the USA. I’d imagine all of our broadcast teams would want for anybody wearing the USA jersey to represent and to do well.
We go through the three rounds, I finish fourth. [Note: Montaño was later upgraded to the bronze after the original gold medalist was disqualified for doping.] Maggie Vessey finished sixth. When I went through the media staging area, I’m locking eyes with FloTrack. I’m like, “Oh, of course, they want to talk to me.” They literally looked at me and then to Maggie, who was right behind me, and said, “Maggie, you’re the highest finish; you finished sixth place.”
I’m stunned. I finished fourth place. Again, I won our USA Nationals. I’d finished the fastest time in the world last year, just out of a medal position. Why wouldn’t you report that? That was a really big jump off for me. “Where can I put myself in a position to be America’s hero, to be America’s sweetheart?” Again, I’m left to believe that I don’t belong as the lead or the hero in America’s story. When I think about it, I have a ball in my throat because it just was so frustrating.
RW: After the murder of George Floyd and the uprisings that followed, so many people and brands seemed to wake up to the reality of anti-Black racism. You called out Runner’s World for a lack of Black bodies on its covers. Talk to us about that.
AM: There’s all these places where [Black people] are not represented. This is in everything. It’s in our literature. It’s in our history books. It’s in children’s cartoons and shows. It’s in every single thing. It’s like… I don’t understand why I’m not in this space. I don’t understand why I’m never a lead. Why am I not the hero in this story?
In 2008, I became a professional athlete, and I had in my contract, if you make the cover of Runner’s World, you get this bump. And me being like, “Oh, I don’t know the last time I saw a Black person on the cover of this magazine. Could we change this part of the contract to something like, what if I get the cover of Ebony?” [laughs]
Even within the pages, I’m like, “What is going on here? Why am I not a part of a ‘runner’s world?’ What makes a runner’s world a runner’s world? Do I need to be white?” It was like this for years and years until I got to the point, “OK, I’m not even peeking at this magazine anymore, I’m so tired.”
Even the stories within it, when they talked about hair-care products, I’m like, “Why don’t they include any Black hair-care products?” How to take care of your hair while running or exercising. There’s nothing like that. It lets me know that there’s nobody at the table and there’s not an opportunity for us to belong in this “runner’s world.”
I’m a mom, and my lens is on my baby girl. That’s how I started to dive into the information that I was getting about myself, that my daughter was getting about herself. I wanted her to know, You are the shit. You are of value. Girl, you could be anything you want to be for real, for real.
Looking at all the places of representation that I could to show her: astronaut, lawyer, doctor, singer, whatever, runner. Here’s your mom, take a good look. You’re strong. You’re beautiful. You’re everything they’re telling you you’re not in the media.
That’s part of me unsubscribing to Runner’s World, because she would look at the same magazines I look at. So if I’m telling her all these things about herself and looking at the media that she’s consuming, then she’s looking at this magazine that I should be a part of and—“Why are there no bodies that look like myself or my mom in here?”
RW: “Mom says this, but I’m not seeing it anywhere.”
AM: Exactly. Fast-forward to now: I started a podcast, Keeping Track. I was bringing women’s stories, but also Black women’s stories, to the table. My co-host, Molly Huddle, and I were talking about the covers of Runner’s World. It got us thinking deeper. We reached out to Francine Darroch. She’s a statistician and ended up doing research on the topic.
Roadblocks to Marathon Training When Youre a Mom, Runner’s World only had 14.8 percent representation of Black, Indigenous, or people of color on its covers. We shared the numbers and put all the covers of the magazine together because we wanted people to step forward and not just say, “Hey, we’re doing it now.” We want you to reflect. That’s part of the work. I want you to think deeply: Where did this come from, where you never felt that we were to be valued and deserved representation?
RW: Now youre on the cover of this issue. What does this mean to you Runner’s World do going forward?
AM: I’d love to see Runner’s World include—not just a one-off, not just me—more BIPOC on the covers of their magazine throughout the year. It is policy that you need to have us regularly included, mixed in like everybody else in a true Runner’s World fashion. I want for Runner’s World to tell BIPOC stories within running, with no filter.
I want for them to share BIPOC products and businesses. I want them to allow ad space for BIPOC businesses. I want them to hire more BIPOC photographers, writers, editors, all of that. It belongs in every single piece of your magazine. I want you to reflect and take a deep dive into who you’re hiring, who’s at the table, what is the content within your magazine, and who ultimately you are representing. That’s a lot.
RW: Now you’re on the cover of this issue. What does this mean to you?
AM: I’m like, “Look, guys, it doesn’t have to be me. You aren’t the owner of how I feel about myself. I want for this to be a space where, again, BIPOC can see representation.” This is just a stepping-stone. Belated seems too dramatic. But I feel like a pioneer in a lot of ways, which means even more to me than just being on the front of the magazine.
I feel like allowing for a magazine that has been called out to humbly show some humility and humbly place a person who’s called them out… they could have easily been like, “Okay. Well, not her. That was hard for us. What are you trying to do to us?” And I’m not trying to do anything to you. I’m trying to do things for us: for BIPOC.
It means that I’m leaving a legacy. I hope I can be part of a history of BIPOC who paved the way and left a mark so great that people who are oppressing them can no longer deny their existence.
RW: Do you see this cover as progress or performance?
AM: I’m walking a fine line when it comes to identifying who is the performer and who is the ally. I feel like this is a really hard group project, and we all are trying to graduate right now. There are going to be some boneheads within the project that are going to try to destroy the whole thing, and they ultimately just get an F.
Running Shoes & Gear Runner’s World trying to make some progress, I can’t really determine what it is right now. Call me at the end of the year, and I’ll let you know. [laughs]
RW: How did the cover come to be?
AM: Shanna Burnette at Altra Running, my new shoe sponsor, has always been an advocate for everything I’ve done. She was like, “I can’t believe you’ve never been on the cover of Runner’s World.” I was very clear with her, like, “It doesn’t have to be me. I’m just talking. There are so many amazing, Black, Indigenous, and people of color who have been rocking the run world, and Runner’s World doesn’t have to just be this white-embodied idea of running.” She ended up emailing, and then messaged me: “Get ready for your cover of Runner’s World.” She even called out Runner’s World, in particular, has reached out to me. I want to tell the story of “and then they called me…” I feel like that didn’t happen. So here we are.
RW: You tell a story on your podcast about your daughter saying, “Now it’s the Black girls’ turn to run because the white girls just ran the two-mile.” How did that hit for you, to hear your child echo this common misconception about Black runners only being sprinters and not distance runners?
AM: Oh, my gosh, I have so many mom moments where I just go and cry in a closet! There are all these layers to “momming while Black.”
We were watching the New Balance Indoor Grand Prix. After she said that, I started watching her watch the athletes race, and what she saw was that it was the white people’s turn and the Black people’s turn to run. I just sprung into mom mode. I said, “Yes, that just happens to be this group of people that showed up for this race.” She understood it like that.
A lot of the conversation was me trying to talk about the amazingness in our differences, but that it isn’t assigned to a body. I had to pull out my computer and show her a bunch of different races on the world stage… the mile race with Black and brown and white people in it, and the same thing with the 10K.
For me, it wasn’t really the conversation she and I had, it was my reflection of “Where else am I going to have to tell my daughter that she belongs in all these spaces?” If she wants to run the two-mile or sprint or play tennis or golf, she can do that. Again, it’s just my mom mode of representation and letting her know that she truly can be whoever or whatever she wants to be.
RW: People will say, “There’s no room for politics in running. Just be quiet and run.” What’s your response to that?
AM: I honestly don’t understand what people are talking about when they say, “Why are we talking about politics?” when it pertains to this. If you are a living, breathing body and you exist in this world, you are politics. There’s nothing to omit. I am a Black woman, mom, everything about me is politics. Existing in a space with a governing body, that is politics. What is there to leave out? It’s really one of the most baffling string of words that can come out of someone’s mouth. I’m always shocked, and I have to reiterate to them who I am and who they are. You exist in a world where you are in an education system. That’s politics. You are in a world where we have a healthcare system. When you talk about systems, we’re talking about politics. When you talk about you living in your home or in your neighborhood, that’s politics. If you live in this world, you are involved in politics.
When a person really believes there’s no space for politics, that means the system in place is serving them.
RW: Moving to racing... You finished fourth in 2011 and 2013 at Worlds. Later, an athlete who finished ahead of you both times was disqualified for doping. Beyond the medals and your moment in the spotlight, what else did you feel robbed of?
AM: I was robbed of huge financial gain. An opportunity to open more doors by way of sponsorships. That’s how [this] business works. When you win a medal, you break records, those are opportunities that allow you to push your career beyond the scope of the oval. I don’t think people recognize what it really means when that’s stripped of you. Had I won my bronze medal in 2011, my bargaining power the following year going into the Olympic Games [would have been] astronomical.
RW: You are 34, and you just had your third child this past February. Where do you see yourself in terms of your competitive running career? Will you return to the track next year?
AM: Yes, I see myself returning to running at a professional level. I do want to touch more road racing. I’ve always wanted more opportunities to be able to do that.
I probably will touch the track a couple of times, but I want to put my focus on enjoying running, bringing my community to running, and allowing people to see the enjoyment in bettering self without necessarily having to have a medal behind it. That had been so long my career, and just the heartache behind somebody else still owning that even when you earned it. Man, I have a lot of healing still to do in that department.
I can say, just to leave a little cliff-hanger here... I had to make a decision if I wanted to have a third child or train for Tokyo 2020. I said I don’t feel like my story is over and I can see myself really trying for Tokyo 2020. However, if I had to choose between my third child and the Olympics, I’m going to pick my third kid.
Now the Olympics has been postponed to 2021. I’m not making any announcement [laughs] but I am having a really good time getting in shape.
RW: What do you want your legacy to be?
AM: I hope when people think of Alysia, they think of an individual who never backed down, who always stood up for what was right—and not just the things that were going to serve herself and her family.
AM: Exactly. Fast-forward to now: I started a podcast?
AM: I want for my kids to see how important our women are. I want for my kids to be able to see a world where we are truly afforded the opportunity to be whoever we want to be. Where they are not looked at by way of negativity because of the color of their skin. I want people to see their value and their beauty and their worth. I want them to know that they are everything that they ever imagined they could be… and if anybody wants to tell you [otherwise], you go ahead and tell them your momma said differently.
Nicole Blades is an author, journalist, and certified personal trainer based in New England. Follow her on Twitter @NicoleBlades.
Nicole Blades is a novelist, speaker, and freelance journalist who covers women's health, race and culture, books and publishing, and stories of reinvention for various national print and digital magazines. She lives in New England with her husband, son, dog, and a sky-high stack of books by her bedside that she calls Mount Nightstand. FHealth - Injuries NicoleBlades.com.
