And so the other thing, that was about the age of 11 or 12,
I discovered what running meant to me.
And it isn't about the physicalness of it, or what it does for our bodies,
or the cardiovascular functioning.
What it did was give me sanctuary and solitude
and a place to connect with light divine.
It's where I find clarity, and I still find it there.
So the other thing that happened about the age of 15
was I come from a long lineage,
like if we had my whole chart up here of my family,
you'd see a lot of very thin athletic people.
You'd also see a lot of really good drinkers.
And so at age 15, I took my first drink.
That was at my friend Beth's house, and after several, you know, of those,
I called this guy named Robbie.
And he went to like the heathen public school,
and I told Robbie that I loved him.
(Laughter)
And Robbie didn't know who I was
(Laughter)
but by the end of the conversation with him, he did know who I was,
and so did all of his buddies.
And there was something incredibly powerful about that.
It's like those cultural messages that said,
"A quick fix and a quick way to feeling good about yourself will work."
And what I didn't realize at the time was that it was part of the plan,
it was part of the lie, part of the way to dim, you know,
dim the miraculous spirit that was me, and you, and all of us.
And so these two worlds began to build momentum.
And step by step, the running improved, and I began to get competitive at it,
because you can't just run because, you have to run for a reason.
You have to run to compete, you have to run to achieve.
You can't just run because.
And so too did the drinking,
in the dark nights, and in a lot of really dark spaces.
And so, on July 6, 1993, I was 32 years old, I hit bottom.
The running was no longer working,
and I could not find solitude or sanctuary in that space;
I couldn't find it anywhere.
And so I called my big sister Emily, and I told her I had two choices.
I was either going to move to California, which is like the "geographic cure",
or I was going to kill myself.
And I asked my sister Emily,
"Which one should I pick?"
And she paused,
and then she gave me the greatest advice of anything I've ever received,
and I'd heard it before, but it really worked.
And she said, "Molly, this too shall pass."
And so I hung up the phone, and I sort of fell to the side,
and I went to sleep.
The next day was July 7, 1993,
and I decided later on in the day, I called in sick to the job
that I was holding at the time, and I decided to go for a run.
And there was this huge thunderstorm brewing off in the distance,
massive clouds, electricity, and lighting, and all sorts of just ions in the air.
And so I put on my running clothes, and I remembering thinking,
"It's too dangerous. Don't go, don't go!"
And in among all the noises, of all the shoulds, and oughts,
and "You're not good enough, or pretty enough, or thin enough,
or whatever enough,"
came this one little voice.
And this voice said, "If you need to go, go."
So I remember descending those stairs,
and about five miles into what ended up being a 6-mile run,
something happened.
And you know, for me to try to frame it in words does it a disservice.
But there was something that happened,
it was like the way the sweat came out of my pores
and trickled down my chest and down my back,
and the weight of my ponytail as it tugged behind me.
And there was this spot
at the intersection of Kennelworth and East Boulevard,
where I just felt nothing.
It was as if there was no story, there was no should, there was no ought,
there was nothing.
It was as if I was just invisible, but in the most glorious way.
The story disappeared,
the whatever I should be was no longer there; and I just was.
And so, I burst into tears, and I walked home.
And I knew that once I had experienced that,
I couldn't go back,
I couldn't go back to living the way that I had lived.
That, you know, something had changed, and I couldn't articulate what it was,
but I knew that it had changed, and I didn't know what to do.
So I just let it sit, and let it marinate for awhile.
And then I got married, and then I had a child,
and when I gave birth to my son,
it was like, the purpose, what I was here for,
began to reveal itself in the quiet times as I would nurse him.
And so "Girls on the Run", this thing that I wanted to do,
something to help girls feel and know that they are safe to be themselves,
no matter what our culture, or no matter what their context is,
no matter how they see it,
they are safe, and beautiful, and whole just the way they are.
And so I wrote out this curriculum,
and I went to the school where I had my spell,
and I'll never forget going to meet with the after-school coordinator,
and said, "Alright, I'd like to do this thing called 'Girls on the Run'."
And his response, and he's a good friend of mine still, he said,
"Aww, that sounds cute."
(Laughter)
And I can remember thinking, "Cute?!
This is going to be a species-level, transformational shift
in the way girls and women perceive themselves!
Like, were going to obliterate sexism and eliminate the objectification of women
from across the globe!"
You know, I mean I really had that thought in my head,
and yet, I couldn't have said it then, I still have-- I enjoy saying it now.
(Laughter)
But I couldn't said it then, and so what do you do?
You go right back to default mode which felt a lot safer,
so I probably did a little something like this,
"Well it is. Can we do it?"
(Laughter)
He said yes.
And so, 13 girls arrived the following month.
And I'll tell you right now, that if you are at all ever questioning
what it is that you're supposed to do or where you're supposed to land,
I felt like this, when those girls came.
That's exactly the way that it felt.
And if you ever question or wonder what it is you're supposed to do,
if it makes you go like that,
you're probably supposed to do it.
And so, the program has since grown,
13 little girls pulled 13 other little girls,
and then we had 26, and then there were 75,
and it's just been an amazing thing for me to realize that so many of us,
whether we're third grade, or 70, or male, or female,
or old, or young, or left-brained, or right-brained,
we just want to know that we are loved.
And so the program is now in 174 cities across North America.
And there were--
(Applause)
Last year, we served,
we reached the quarter million mark in the number of girls served.
And at this point, I'm feeling very called to expand to other nations,
and we have 40 or so that have expressed an interest,
not quite sure what to do with that yet, from a business standpoint.
But what I'd like to do just to launch and to get you thinking
is to share with you one story about a very special girl.
And her name is Shakira.
And so I was coaching a group of little girls,
this was several years ago, and we limit it to 15 girls in a group.
And at this point I had 14, and we start the day, the first activity
where you say your name and an adjective that describes you.
And so I'm always like "Miraculous Molly", and we go around the circle,
and we got around to this one little girl
who just shook her head and looked to the ground.
And one of the other girls goes, "Oh that's just Shakira, she never talks."
And I was like, "Alright girl, I'm just glad you're here.
You just keep coming back girl, just keep coming back."
And so, the next lesson she comes, and she doesn't speak,
and the third lesson she comes, and she doesn't speak,
and the fourth lesson she comes, and she doesn't speak.
So I went to the school counselor, and I said, "Can you please help me?
I don't know how to reach this little girl."
And she said to me, "Well Molly...
if you look closely about her calves and her thighs,
you'll see the scars from the cigarette burns."
And this little girl had been cast away in closets for long points of time.
So she had to wear glasses that would dim in the sunlight.
And I realized at that moment that I was privileged actually,
to have her in my life.
And so, over the course of the next 12 weeks,
I began to see something emerged,
like the light that had dimmed within this child,
and the story that she'd been told her entire nine years of life,
"You're not worthy, you're not smart enough,"
or "You're not worth it, or you're voiceless,"
was beginning to unravel and disappear.
And at the end of the program,
she was participating, but still not speaking.
So on the very last day of the program, I put the girls into a circle, and I said,
"Alright ladies, let's just say one word to describe our experience,"
hoping that this might be the day I would hear something from her.
The first little girl said, "Fantastic!"
Somebody said, "Awesome."
I do remember one 8-year old goes, "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,"
because when you're eight
that's like the most official, longest word in the English language.
And then I got around to Shakira, and she just looked around the circle,
and then she shook her head and looked to the ground.
So the following day, we have our banquet, where all the kids come together,
and we celebrate, and honor them for their presence over the 12 weeks.
And I had called every one of the girls up, and I called Shakira up,
and we give funny awards like the "Sweat Goddess" award,
or the "Runs with a Red Face" award.
Then I had called Shakira up, all 14 or 13 of her teammates behind her,
and I call her up.
And I say, "Alright girl, I give you the 'Grand Communicator' award'.
Because of how you communicate, you know, that little sparkle in your eye,
and you know, you communicate in ways that are so much richer than many adults."
And that little girl pulled out of her pocket a card,
and she handed me that card.
And I read it.
And I will tell you, that in a room of 60 people,
I felt great solitude and a great connection to my divine,
like I did on that July-7th run,
and I handed that card back to her.
And I said, "Will you read this to me?"
And that little 9-year-old took that card,
and she began to shake, and shake, and when you're really thin,
and you haven't been nourished for a long time, you do like this.
And then she read it out loud.
And what she said was, "Dear Molly, the word I wanted to say
on the last day of 'Girls on the Run' was love.
Your friend, Shakira."
And so my question to you, and I just really, really ask you this question,
what do you want to say?
What stories do you tell yourself
that limit you from saying what it is you need to say to the world?"
And I say, if Shakira can do it, you can do it.
And if it includes bright, red boots, you better go get you some.
(Laughter)
That's it.
(Applause)