The supermom myth

The women’s marathon American record was broken at the Houston Marathon by Keira D’Amato on January 16.

With the record being 16 years old and having eluded even the most seasoned professional distance runners of our time, D’Amato’s accomplishment is nothing short of remarkable. 

What is unremarkable is the coverage of her accomplishment.

D’Amato is being dubbed “supermom” or “marathon mom” in the coverage of her feat. I take major issue with this slant of her record-breaking achievement. Because D’Amato is a professional runner who also happens to be a mother, the identity of “mother” is elevated to be the most important part of her triumph. The fact that she created history cannot seemingly stand on it’s own; her motherhood status takes center stage. This creates a glaring double standard (i.e. no male marathoner has ever been labeled ‘marathon dad’ because he has children) but perpetuates a dangerous ideology often projected onto women, the myth of the supermom.

The supermom myth is toxic and pervasive in American society. The fallacy exists that if a mother is just selfless enough, accomplishes just a little more, tries extra hard, that she too will achieve greatness, despite the overarching lack of support in our country’s current policies for maternity leave and childcare.

The obvious problem with the supermom myth is that it is categorically false. Without support, mothers turn to survival mode, where getting through the next 5 mins is all that is possible at times.

The glorification of the ‘supermom’ tempts women to believe that trying for it all – despite level of privilege, family support, financial means, food security, access to education and healthcare, etc – is the key to greatness. It is only the key to physical and mental burnout as well as deepening the belief that social and financial inequities are irrelevant to success. In reality, the support systems that make up our lives – be them from government agencies or otherwise – give people freedom to survive and thrive.

When we see female greatness and label it as the traits of a ‘supermom’ we are defeating ourselves from the start. By letting this kind of coverage slide by our consciousness without questioning, we’re silently crystallizing and condoning these inequities.

The day of D’Amato’s accomplishment, I saw plenty of Instagram posts and news articles highlighting that “mothers can do anything.” It’s like as a society we’re impressed that women achieve greatness despite limiting circumstance (like our country’s lack of paid maternity leave, the wage gap, and a pandemic that drove exclusively women out of the workforce). It seems condescending to promote maternal excellence for the outliers while withholding widespread support for all. Just me?

What I wish is that more female runners have access to childcare, sports physical therapy, pelvic floor physical therapy and healthcare in general. If our policies in this country really supported women throughout the lifespan, including peri- and postpartum, more records would fall as women gain equal footing in recognized and compensated contributions to the American landscape. 

The accomplishments of D’Amato are remarkable and she deserves the fully glory of her victory. She is a runner using her ambition and talents to permanently elevate running culture. She most certainly has unique aspects of her personal life that contributed to a journey with a historic outcome. Her record, as well as all female running accomplishments, should not be used to perpetuate the sexist myth of the supermom.

Ultimately, it’s crucial that we allow female athletes to be themselves: complete people who have incredible stories to tell and talents to share. All parts that make up an incredible whole deserve to be recognized.

Katie Noble is a Doctor of Physical Therapy, a journalist, and a runner. She enjoys empowering and supporting female runners with evidenced-based education.