How Cleusa Uenaka Learned to Prioritize Herself in Sports
After decades dedicated to caring for family, a runner found strength in her father's advice and sister's grief.
Cleusa Uenaka spent years putting the needs of parents, siblings, and friends ahead of her own. Experiencing profound loss taught her the urgency of self-care, turning running into a lifelong commitment that even honored her sister on the day of her farewell.
Dedication to caring for those around her has been a defining trait of Cleusa Uenaka's journey. Across decades of balancing a sales career and raising three children, she stood on the front lines of supporting family and friends. This protective instinct postponed personal projects and travel, keeping her entirely focused on assisting her mother, who was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, a couple of friends undergoing cancer treatment, and later, her father and older sister.
The Turning Point and a Father's Advice
Realizing that she also needed care took time to sink in. The turning point arrived alongside her own health struggles and a decisive conversation with her father, who lived to be 97. When Cleusa decided to change her routine and move to Ubatuba, on the coast of São Paulo, she hesitated to leave him behind. Her father's advice was straightforward: everyone has their own life and different paces, and she could not tether her steps to someone already approaching the finish line of their journey.
Recognizing that personal health cannot be outsourced to doctors or family members sparked a permanent mindset shift. Cleusa realized she needed to make herself a priority before it was too late, taking active ownership of her daily well-being.
Running in the Cemetery as a Tribute to Her Sister
Among her most profound losses was that of her older sister, nine years her senior, who acted as a mentor and second mother. Diagnosed with cancer at age 43, she lived to be 80 under Cleusa's watchful care. Throughout those years together, her sister became one of her biggest athletic supporters, proposing to walk while Cleusa ran.
Her connection to that encouragement ran so deep that on the very day of her sister's funeral service at the cemetery, Cleusa put on her running shoes and completed her run. Far from a routine workout, this gesture was an act of respect and gratitude for the resilience learned from her family—transforming the grief of saying goodbye into the certainty that staying in motion was the highest honor she could pay to the memory of someone who always championed her.