A year ago, on May 11, Kenny Bednarek took a moment from the heat of Olympic preparations to honor the woman who shaped his life—his adoptive mother, Mary Ann Bednarek. Thousands of miles from his hometown of Rice Lake, he stood victorious on the track in Doha, having just stormed to a win in the men’s 200m at the Doha Diamond League. His time? A blazing 19.67 seconds, a new meet record that broke the previous mark set by none other than Noah Lyles. But Kenny’s first thought wasn’t about records or rankings—it was about his mom.

“I dedicate this WIN to my mother @mary_bednarek for her birthday today…Happy Birthday Mom! ❤️,” he posted on X. That race, on May 10, 2024, wasn’t just another step on the road to Paris—it was a heartfelt gift to the woman who had adopted him at age 4 and given him a foundation of love, strength, and stability.

Fast forward to this year—May 11, 2025. Once again, Kenny paused to celebrate Mary Ann. But this time, it was even more special. Not only was it her birthday, it was also International Mother’s Day – a rare overlap that made the day doubly meaningful. So, Kenny shared a candid photo of himself and Mary Ann together, smiling, connected. And with it, he penned a message that was less about fanfare and more about feeling: “Happy Birthday and Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who means everything to me. Your strength, love and guidance are my greatest blessings. Celebrating you twice today still doesn’t feel like enough. I love you mom ❤️”

For a man who runs with lightning in his legs, Kenny Bednarek never forgets the beating heart behind his journey. On tracks across the world, it’s Mary Ann’s love that races with him every step of the way. Evidence? 

Long before Kenny Bednarek became an Olympic medalist or a Diamond League record-breaker, he was a boy growing up in a foster home—searching for stability, for belonging, for someone to believe in him. And then came Mary Ann Bednarek. Since the moment she adopted him at age four, Mary has been more than just a mother. She’s been his constant rock of support. His loudest cheerleader in every sense of the word. The example was in her celebration at the French capital last year. 

“I cried, I was overwhelmed,” Mary said in a phone call with TMJ4’s Lance Allan after watching her son claim another silver medal in the 200 meters at the Paris Olympics. “It was beautiful. I’m so proud of him. Momma Mary answered a lot of prayers.”

But her support isn’t just felt through quiet pride. Mary Ann is famously vocal—pitching her voice from the stands like she’s calling a game-winning play. “My mother loves to scream,” Kenny once said with a smile. And she does it gladly, never once complaining, even when her voice runs hoarse. Whether it’s the U.S. Olympic Trials or a high-stakes international meet, she’s there—in the stands, in his corner, in his heart. And after every victory—or even just every finish—Mary Ann doesn’t just wait in the shadows. She celebrates. Like in Paris, walking the city streets with a smile that said everything. For Mary, it wasn’t just about the medal. It was about the journey, of the boy she raised becoming the man the world now cheers for.

Kenny Bednarek’s mom doesn’t count differences

Once there was a little boy navigating the uncertainty of foster care. Kenny and his twin brother, Ian, bounced through the system until one woman, Mary Ann Bednarek, opened her heart—and her home—to them both. She didn’t just adopt them. She gave them roots.

Navigating life with early struggles like ADHD and the emotional weight of instability, Kenny found something rare and healing in Mary Ann’s presence: unconditional love. Structure. Understanding. A fierce protector in a sometimes indifferent world. And for Mary Ann, it was never about charity or obligation—it was about love, plain and simple. “Absolutely nothing,” she told the Catholic Herald last year when asked if she saw a difference between adopting a child and having one biologically. “Because if there is, you shouldn’t be adopting.”

That belief—simple yet profound—formed the foundation on which Kenny began building his dreams. It’s a foundation that has taken him from small-town Wisconsin to the Olympic stage, from uncertainty to global recognition. Now 26, Kenny speaks openly about his adoption—not as a footnote, but as a defining strength.

“One thing I would tell young Kenny was, ‘Yeah, you were adopted,’” he shared last year during his Paris Olympics journey. But his voice, often calm and confident, always softens when he talks about Mary Ann. “I found a mother that loves [me]…and nurtures [me].” That love was never conditional. It was never less-than. It was never second to biology. It was everything. And in that love, Kenny found it all: a home, belief and fuel; he found the kind of quiet, unwavering support that keeps a sprinter grounded even as the world rushes by.