Maple Leaf half-marathon and 5K: our hometown race

Yesterday 38 women from my running groups over the past 5 years joined about 1000 other people to participate in the Maple Leaf Half-marathon and 5K in Manchester, VT. This is our local half-marathon, supported by the Manchester and the Mountains Chamber of Commerce, the local Lions Club, and our local running group, the BattenKill Valley Runners. One participant said we must have had almost as many volunteers as we did runners, and they're not far off. This event is truly a community effort, with fire departments, rescue squads, high school sports teams, community groups, and dedicated individuals volunteering their time and energy to put on a quality race.

This year I volunteered with the organizing committee, helped out at registration on Friday evening, and started Saturday morning by placing orange highway cones, no parking signs, and race direction signs along the route. Then came helping out at registration, answering questions from visiting runners, cheering on the walkers who started at 8am, placing volunteers holding pace signs for the 9am running start, and directing the 5K runners onto their last turn before the finish. All of this before 10am!

I spent the next 3 hours cheering on the half-marathon runners and walkers as they finished their race. Among the 1000 participants were 35 women from my running group. Once a member of Training for More, you're always a part of this fun-loving, energetic group.

some of the group before the race start

I watched women with big smiles speed up as they neared the finish. Women who joined hands with their friends, finishing the last few steps of the 13.1 miles together. Women I haven't seen all summer, who gave me a big smile and even stopped for a hug before they crossed the finish line. Women who struggled with blisters, cramped calf and hamstring muscles, and stomach issues but kept moving forward. Women wearing our team hat, visor, or t-shirt, or wearing a shirt from one of the many races we've done together. Women running with their husband or fiance. Women running with their children. Women talking, smiling and laughing, taking pictures and video. Women walking and running to set a PR, continue their quest to become a half-fanatic or reach a new moon level (you have to read about it to believe it), to support the local race and the charities it benefits, to encourage a friend, to demonstrate to themselves that they're strong and healthy, and to have fun. 

I started running in college because I was in Army ROTC and that required running - lots of running. I kept running because friends encouraged me to run, I craved the peace and quiet of running in the country on little-traveled roads, and running allowed me to eat just about anything I wanted. When I started the Training for More group, I expected fewer than 10 women to join, and I never expected it would expand into an ongoing, cohesive group of women who never cease to amaze me.

We didn't have a specific training group for today's races, I didn't organize group runs, or send out email instructions. They did it all on their own, or together in small groups. As each of them passed me on the course with the finish line in sight, I cheered, clapped, and shouted encouragement. Once they finished their race, we gathered together and continued cheering not only for women in our group, but for every person who came by. Congratulations to each of you who finished your race yesterday. Wear your finisher's medal with pride!

Running with Mike

Mike and I first started running together when we were dating while in college at the University of Vermont. Instead of going on a date, we'd meet to run for a study break, typically late at night. We'd run through the streets of Burlington, head down to Lake Champlain, and wind our way back up the hill toward campus.

Mike really doesn't enjoy running, and once we left college he pursued other athletic interests while I continued to run. While our kids were young he'd run with them in the kids' races while I ran the 5K. As the boys got older, they all would run/walk the Running of the Turkeys 5K together. Mike's volunteered at countless local races but his day-in-day-out exercise turned to the gym.

Today we ran the local 5K route from the Rec center, a fairly flat loop through Manchester. It was Mike's idea, since the gym is closed for Labor Day and he wanted to get some exercise. He doesn't love running the way I do, doesn't get into the flow of feeling the sun and wind on his face or into the pattern of footsteps rhythmically pattering out a beat on the sidewalk. He listens to music to take his focus off his breath and his body, which makes the run bearable but hinders conversation. We don't need to talk to enjoy running together, falling easily into a companionable pace.

As we finished the 5K loop, Mike talked about possibly running a local 5K race this Fall. Maybe he'll even run periodically instead of always using the stationary bike at the gym. We've known each other for 34 years, and have learned that adapting to change and finding a common thread in our lives is part of the crucial glue that binds us together. We don't need to run together regularly, or even more than a few times each year, to reactivate the running component of that glue.

Running - or not - on vacation

Usually I manage to fit in running when I travel, but the past week we put 3146 miles on our motorcycle, and I only fit in three short runs. Three is better than zero, but the lack of running made me cranky and sitting in one position on the motorcycle for 6-16 hours each day led to cramps in my feet, calf muscles, and hamstrings.

I like to run outside when we travel so I can scope out the area and find neat places to visit. This trip we stayed in hotels right off the Interstate, and running on the highway is never my idea of fun. One night I used the eliptical in the hotel fitness center (I wonder why they don't call it a fitness closet, because that's what it resembled?) and forced myself to grind out 30 minutes.

Two days later, in another Insterstate hotel in a different state, I ran on the treadmill. This fitness center was a bit larger, but it had to be over 90 degrees inside. I ran one of my favorite speed drills:  5-4-3-2-1 or 5 minutes fast; 5 minutes easy; 4 minutes fast; 4 minutes easy; etc. I drank water during each easy run and managed to crank out 45 minutes total. The experience wasn't any fun at all, but at least I felt better with some type of exercise.

We stayed two nights in a hotel in Missouri that didn't even have a fitness closet. I made do with stretching, push-ups and sit-ups in our room. Some exercise is always better than no exercise, right?

The best run was outside - of course. We stayed in Valparaiso, Indiana, at my stepmother's home and I ran on the wooded path that winds through her neighborhood. Finally I enjoyed the run, even though it was hot and my legs were sore. As I ran I remembered how our boys used to love playing in the dry creekbed that snakes along part of the path, and how my father would entertain them with stories of Alex the Bear. He created Alex the Bear when we were children, and the stories continued with another generation. One year during our visit the creekbed was muddy, and of course the boys came back to the house covered in mud. Another year they joined their cousin Jackson in tieing ropes to the small footbridges on the path. My sister Diane and I run on this path when we visit, and through the town remembering each house where we lived, the schools we attended, and the park with the memorial tree and bench for our parents.

Why is it so much easier to run outside, when my thoughts skip from one topic to another, than to run inside with the noise of a TV in my head? Why do I prefer the outdoor heat and humidity to inside airconditioning? Why would I rather end up with frozen eyelashes when the temperature dips toward zero than pound out miles on the treadmill in a warm gym?

I think it's because running outside doesn't really seem like work. It's time to myself, opportunity to listen to the birds or my own breath,  a chance to once again hear my father's voice as he tells stories of Alex the Bear.

Running a 5K trail race

Dara and I traveled north to Rutland for the Pine Hill Park 5K trail race tonight. This is the 11th year of their summer trail race series, and I've participated for the past 5 years. Here's a quick trail race how-to if you're thinking about taking your running off-road:

• Bug spray is your friend
• It's sunny in the parking lot, but once you get on the trail in the woods, it's a lot darker. Sunglasses are not necessary.
• Everyone breathes really heavy, especially on the steep uphills
• If you hear someone breathing right behind you, move to the side of the trail so they can pass you. Or speed up and make them breathe even harder. Your choice.
• You never have any idea where you are or where you're going. Just run.
• Looking down at the trail is good. Looking up to take in the view is not recommended. Down is where the roots, rocks, and slippery parts are lurking, just waiting for you to trip and fall.
• Don't even think about all the tics.
• Lift your feet higher than usual to avoid roots and rocks.
• You can't avoid all the roots and rocks, and sometimes you fall.
• OK, lots of times you fall. Get back up and keep running.
• There will always be someone standing at one of the intersections, helpfully telling you 'it's not much farther'. The phrase 'not much farther' has no real meaning in trail running.
• There are no water stations or cheering volunteers. There also are no cars and no sounds - except for your heavy breathing.
• You will always run uphill longer and harder than you ever run on the road.
• You will always run on steep downhills, often over slippery rocks.
• When you catch your breath, you can sometimes hear birds.
• You can run through streams, or jump over them. Sometimes there are bridges - but not always.
• When you come off the trail and hit the pavement in the parking lot for the last few yards, your legs feel wobbly and strange. I think they're trying to tell me I'm supposed to be back in the woods and on the trail.
• After the run, everyone stands around telling stories about where they tripped and who fell in front of them.
• Someone always takes a wrong turn.
• Bloody knees are to be expected.
• Fresh watermelon tastes wonderful after a trail run, and hydrates just as well as water. Plus you can spit out the seeds.

Why I love running far more than biking

In the name of cross-training, over-50 legs, and registering for a triathlon in July, I've been riding my bike 2-3 times per week. OK - I've basically been planning to ride my bike, because I don't ride if it's raining or dark. In my mind, it's far safer to run vs bike in these conditions because I can see the cars coming toward me when I'm running, and cars sneak up behind me when I'm biking.

The last time I actually got on the bike, I had a flat tire. I was really proud of myself for biking to a client's house (saving gas, helping keep the environment clean and getting exercise all at once!), until I showed up 10 minutes late because I had to walk my bike the final mile. It was one of those days when I had back-to-back appointments, so I called my husband for an emergency ride home.

My son Nate and his friend Morgan changed the tire for me, giving me some tips and hints along the way but doing the work themselves. I've watched other people change a bike tire, and even participated in a tire changing clinic a few years ago, but I've never actually changed a tire myself.

Until today.

After a 30 minute swim at the Rec, I changed into my bike gear and rode approximately 1 mile before I heard a loud POP followed by a short whoosh of air. Flat back tire, again. I had a spare tube in my pack, but decided to walk the bike back to my car and drive home so I could use my tire pump instead of the compressed air capsule I also carry with me but of course had never used before. One new experience would be enough for the day.

Changing the tire myself did not go well. I kept reminding myself that Nate told me anyone can change a tire. He assured me I wouldn't break anything, and if I did it wrong the worst thing that would happen is I'd need to do it over. Thus fortified by my son's encouragement, I attempted to take the back wheel off the bike. Nate is a lot bigger and stronger than I am, and he tightened the wheel so much that I had to use both hands and my body weight to force the lever-thingy (you can tell I really don't know much about bikes) down so I could take the wheel off the bike. I almost gave up once or twice, and even headed into the house in defeat before I told myself in no uncertain terms that I WOULD change the #!*# tire. Finally, it popped off.

I knew to use the bright yellow, hard plastic levers to pry the tire off the wheel. Easier said than done, but I managed to loosen one side fairly easily. No amount of prying could get the entire tire off the wheel, so I resorted to the most respected authority I know:  Google. I googled "change a flat bike tire" and found lots of helpful videos and suggestions. Fortified by knowledge and a turkey sandwich (I function better when I'm not hungry) I went back to work on the bike.

I finally managed to pry the tube out of the wheel and somewhat miraculously the tire also came off the wheel - after about 30 minutes. I blew a bit of air into the new tube and inserted the valve through the wheel. Now the real fun started, because it took me another 30 minutes, a second trip to Google, a glass of milk and a fresh pear, and serious self-talk that I was fully capable of doing this by myself before I managed to finally get both tube and tire back onto the wheel.

Something, however, wasn't quite right. I had heard a lot about the dreaded 'pinch flat', where a tube put incorrectly into the tire would get pinched between the tire and the rim and cause another flat. It looked to me like the tube was already pinched, and I was afraid to blow up the tube completely. I reviewed my options:  give up and sell the bike, give up and wait for my husband to come home and rescue me (and the bike), ask for help. Ask for help finally won, after even more self-talk and reminders of Nate's confidence in my abilities.

I decided to put the wheel back on the bike and drive the $#!* thing to Battenkill Sports Bike Shop just down the road and ask for help. Theoretically I knew how to put the wheel on the bike, but getting it in the right place, with the chain where it belonged, took more than a few tries.

Robin at the bike shop was encouraging and gracious, and confirmed that a pinch flat was imminent. In about 2 seconds he rectified the potential fatal pinch flat by poking the valve stem up into the tire. That's all it took to get the tube and tire to cooperate, and I had just spent over 15 minutes trying to figure this out on my own. He then pumped air into the tube and put the wheel on the bike in less than 1 minute, showing me a nifty way to lift the derailleur (the metal thing that holds the chain on the bike's back wheel and has something to do with shifting gears - I think) with one finger and elegantly slide the wheel into place. It took me two hands and propping with my thigh (there are black chain marks on my body to prove it) at home.

I told Robin this is why I run instead of bike. I don't have expensive running equipment that malfunctions and forces me to stop running. I might get a stone in my shoe, but I can rectify that in less than 1 minute. There's no grease on my hands and I don't have to Google mechanical information and videos to complete a run. I told Robin that if I get a flat tire during the triathlon I might as well give up right there since it took me longer to change the flat tire than it does to complete an entire sprint tri. Somewhat to my surprise, he agreed with me!

Two hours after I initially started off on a bike ride, I started once again on a bike ride. I almost forgot about the anger, dismay, and frustration as I pedaled down the hills, cooled by a stiff breeze and enjoying the smooth pavement. I'm glad I didn't give up, and I feel slightly more confident about changing a future flat tire. Except that next time I'll probably have to attempt using compressed air to inflate the tube.

Long run = hills = fun (OK, fun AND sore legs)

I decided that this summer I would challenge myself with long runs packed with hills, weekly speed workouts, and cross-training on my bike and in the pool. From June 1st through at least September 30th I want to push myself a bit harder just to see what happens. Maybe I'll get faster in the next marathon, the Top of Utah in September. Perhaps I'll finish higher up in a sprint triathlon this summer. I'd love to nail the hills in the 100 on 100 relay.

Ghandi's thoughts are driving me this summer:

“Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

 

I want my destiny this summer to be strength, confidence, and courage. To start that process, I'm focusing on positive thoughts when I'm running. Instead of telling myself the hill is too steep, the weather too hot, my legs too tired - I'm barking out motivation that my drill sergeant at Ft. Bragg would have loved (but without as many expletives).

Long runs this summer include hills, lots of hills. Today's run starts downhill on East Manchester Road, which of course means I have to run UP this hill on the way back home. That's the plan, right? Center Hill waits just after mile 2. Piece of cake.

A gradual uphill on 7A, until a steeper section before the left turn onto North Road. Lots of positive thoughts and old Army chants gear me up for the assault on Overlook, a 1.3 mile steady climb to Morse Hill. My quads get an even better workout running downhill on Wind Hill, then another right turn back onto North Road for two more hills before Route 30.

Manchester West Road is a series of three fairly steep hills followed by a long, more gentle decline into the Village. I navigate the steep downhill section on Union Street by running on the golf cart path instead of the road. There aren't many golfers out this morning, and no one seems to notice as I lean into the downhill and promise my quads I'll reward them with a cold shower.

2.5 miles to go as I turn onto Richville Road. There are two more hills before I reach home, and I fortify myself with the last of my Gatorade and start chanting as I head up the first, steeper hill. Ghandi echoes in my mind:  beliefs - thoughts - words - actions - habits - values - destiny. I believe I will run without walking up this hill. I AM running up this hill. Running up hills with a light, springy step is my destiny - fueled by a whole bunch of hilly, determined miles.

I sprint down the last 1/3 mile of our dirt road toward home, willing my legs to turnover faster. The cold shower I promised my quads feels great. Another hard run completed. More hills conquered.

Tomorrow I plan to ride my bike UP Union Street, something I usually dread. The first trail run of the Pine Hill Park Summer Sunset Series is tomorrow night, and of course that means lots of hills. No dread allowed this summer; Ghandi's thoughts are going to push me up Union Street in the morning and the mountain bike trails at sunset. Bring it!

A day of racing

The women in the spring training group had their pick of a 5K or 10K race today, and were joined by several women from the marathon and half-marathon groups who competed in a half-marathon. It's not often I can stand in one spot and cheer for the racers in a bunch of different distances.

The Crowley Road Races in nearby Rutland, VT roll four different race distances into one morning. Everything starts off at 8am:  the kids 1 mile run, 5K, 10K, and half-marathon. The kids start and finish in the middle of downtown Rutland to the cheers of hundreds of parents and friends. The other three races start at different points, with the courses converging on the finish in downtown Rutland.

Large races are exciting with lots of people and volunteers lining the race course, but they also make seeing your friends finish, and then finding them to celebrate after the race really difficult to the crowds of people. The Crowley Races are small and friendly, with a local band providing upbeat music, friendly volunteers handing out Gatorade and bagels, and the announcer calling out the names of people as they finish.

One of the highlights is meeting legendary Bill Rodgers who runs the 10K and then hangs around to sign autographs, pose for pictures, and talk running until the last person finishes and has a chance to talk with him. In large races the elite athletes have their own porta-potties and stay out of sight of the rest of the pack. Bill Rodgers hangs out with the pack, grabs his own water at the finish, and seems to really enjoy both running and talking with fellow runners.

This is the fifth year of our women's running group and today we had women from the latest spring training group running or walking in the 5K and 10K, BJ from the half-marathon group who became a half-fanatic today after finishing her third half-marathon in 90 days, women who ran in the winter half-marathon group and worked on speed in the 10K, women who finished a marathon in the past 3 weeks and dropped down to the half-marathon, one woman who was injured in marathon training and completed her first half-marathon today, and two women from past running groups who ran the 10K. All we were missing was a few children in the kids' race.

BJ the latest half-fanatic

The marathon group started training together 8 months ago in October 2011. Our race season started in April with the Westfield half-marathon and moved on to the Flying Pig marathon, Shires marathon, and Vermont City marathon. The Crowley Races mark the end of our group training season, but it's definitely not the end of racing for the women in our group. They're entering all sorts of races, from the fun and muddy Renegade Playground Challenge to local triathlons, bike events, trail runs, and road races of varying distances.

Vermont is plagued by tics who carry lyme disease, but the women in our group have been bitten by a friendly and healthy bug:  the running bug. There's no stopping a woman who pinned on a race number, competed, and crossed the finish line feeling fantastic!

A tale of three marathons

October 2011 was the start of our journey toward completing a Spring marathon. 29 women ran long miles together every other weekend, got up at 4am to fit in miles before work, pounded out miles on the treadmill when necessary, battled illness and injury, and developed lasting friendships.

Troy, Alisa and Kim after 18 miles in March

We learned to run with frozen eyelashes, to tuck water bottles inside our jackets to prevent them from freezing, the warmest way to layer clothing, and that chocolate milk is a perfect recovery beverage no matter what the weather throws at us.

Patty, Mandy, Linda and Jen finish 20 miles

Four of us started the three marathon journey at the Flying Pig marathon in Cincinnati. This race has long been on my to-do list, because who can resist a medal with the front - and back - of a pig on it? My sister from Houston decided to join me, along with Fern, Troy and Jill who thought a marathon in Ohio sounded like fun. It WAS fun - lots of pig-related waterstops like the Hawg Wash where they gave us wet, cold towels to drape around our necks, or the Big Bad Wolf costumed teens who chased the little piggies all the way home.



Diane and I with volunteers at the pasta dinner



Our local marathon, the Shires point-to-point race from Bennington to Mancheste,r was next up for 10 women from our group. Last year they ran in a downpour in 50 degree temperatures. This year we had a heat wave, with relentless sun and temperatures in the 90's. The theme for the day was 'ice, ice baby' as ice rubbed on the neck and wrists, dumped into cups of water and Gatorade, and stuffed into running bras and calf sleeves saved the day. It was brutal yet empowering:  if I can run 26.2 miles in this type of heat, I can do anything.

before the Shires marathon

The final marathon for our group this Spring was the Vermont City marathon in Burlington, VT over Memorial Day weekend. 11 women from our group ran with the thousands of other relay team members and marathoners, steadily climbing up the steep hill on Battery Street and winding along the bike path next to Lake Champlain.

showing off Vermont City marathon medals

7 months. 29 women. 3 races. Hundreds of miles on the roads between Bennington and Manchester. Rain, snow, mud, sun and every so often a perfect running day that made us want to keep running longer. Blisters, lost toenails, sore knees and quads, IT band issues. Thank goodness for compression tights, ice, fuel belts, and Honey Stingers. Hours of conversations about children, work, spouses, running, and does celery really increase sex drive?

The driving force behind the miles was friendship. We trained together, we took a Pilates class together, we made pizzas together at Mandy's house with the help of master baker Jed (who also finsihed the Vermont City Marathon with us), we enjoyed post-run meals at Chauney's together. We often ran on our own during the week, but there was always the encouragement of the rest of the group to keep us going, especially when we posted about the run on Facebook, or watched Mandy's videos of our long runs or along the course in Burlington.

Thanks for a fantastic, amazing, wonderful marathon training and racing season my friends. We trained and ran the marathon - Because we can.

T-shirt tales

I have a stack of race t-shirts in my closet that appears to multiply exponentially all on its own. 2-3 times per year I cull through the stack, giving away ones that don't fit, or aren't in a favorite color, or don't inspire me. I have a cotton t-shirt from my first marathon in 2008, all three from the 100 on 100 relay, a favorite long-sleeve from the Marine Corps Marathon, a bright purple zip-neck from the Fargo Marathon, and a very worn cotton t-shirt from the 2001 New York City marathon, only 2 months after 9-11. My sister ran both the Marine Corps and NYC marathons with me, and wearing those shirts reminds me of the bond we share as sisters and as runners.

Because each shirt has a story to tell, I asked the women in the marathon training group to wear a favorite race shirt to our last 20 mile run on Sunday. Some of the stories were short, a couple were long, and all evoked smiles.

Andrea wore a short-sleeve shirt from her first triathlon, where the water temperature was 58 degrees, she rode an old mountain bike, and her only training runs were on the treadmill. She not only survived the freezing water, she's gone on to do several more tris.

Linda wore her beautiful blue long-sleeve shirt from the 1st Wineglass Half-Marathon, and proceeded to give us a tour-guide's thumbnail  sketch of a fantastic weekend spent wine tasting, dining, traveling - and of course completing a half-marathon. Several women in the group are already making plans to join her for the event this year.

Gail wore a red fleece jacket from the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon, completed just one month after the 9-11 tragedy. The course was re-routed to circle the Pentagon, with the only sound the soft slapping of the runners' shoes as they contemplated the unthinkable events of that day.

Kathy wore an orange shirt from this year's Hooter's Half-Marathon. She didn't bring the medal, but we had a lot of fun imagining what it must look like!

Laurie wore the shirt from the Warrior Dash, a 5K romp through mud and over obstacles including jumping over fire. She didn't wear the warrior hat with fur and horns, much to our dismay and disappointment.

Mandy wore one of the many Training for More t-shirts she's earned over the past 5 years of running with the group. Several of the women putting in their 20 miles Sunday met in one of those groups, at a time when 13.6 miles seemed like an unachievable distance, and today is an easy run.

Alisa wore her first race shirt, earned just last weekend at the Plattsburgh half-marathon in freezing cold weather. She and her friends arrived only a few minutes before the race started, leaving home in the dark hours of early morning to drive to the event. They only had shirts left in size small and extra-large. Luckily for her, she wears a small!

I wore a black jacket from the Marshall Marathon I ran in November last year. 75 members of the Marshall University football team died in a plane crash in 1970, and the marathon remembers them in several ways throughout the day. The race not only finishes on the football field, but a volunteer handed me a football to carry as I ran the final yards. Even tired legs had to sprint to the finish in the endzone.

Race organizers look at their shirts as a way to promote sponsors and advertise their event. I'm not sure they understand the powerful memories that are embedded in those shirts.

Relay races are about more than running

Running Mary to the finish

Yesterday five of us from our Training for More running groups finished the inaugural Old Route Relay, a 50 mile loop run in Hinesburg, VT and the surrounding area. Gail, Fern and I are relay veterans, having completed at least one of the 100 on 100 (100 miles on Vermont Route 100) relay races over the previous three years. Mary and Faith were our 'relay virgins', ready to complete their first relay race.

A relay event is more than simply taking turns covering a 50 mile course. We started at 11am on Saturday when we met at Fern's house to load up her car with overnight essentials, gear for the relay, and food - lots of food. Relay teams are self-sufficient, providing our own water, food, Gu, sports drinks, etc. We plan ahead for any possibility and operate with the idea that more (food) is always better.

Along the drive up to Hinesburg we talked about past races, our current training programs, family, travel, work; the talk never faltered and there was lots of laughter and fun. As we drove the course, the temperature dropped almost 30 degrees and a light rain started to fall. Perfect running weather! We noted the hills, the transition areas, the possible places to pee, and where we could stop for more food if necessary.

Fern took us to one of her favorite running stores, Fleet Feet in Essex Junction, where we resisted temptation and purchased only new flavors of gels and old-standby sports drinks. Dinner at Three Tomatoes involved lots of pasta and water to fuel the next day's run. We were in bed by 9am, with a 4am wake-up call.

The day of the race we loaded up the car at 4:30am and drove the 11 miles to the start in complete darkness and temperatures in the low 30's, glad that we scouted the course the previous day. Fern, our first runner, had no time to be nervous as the race director lined up the group starting at 5:30am, gave us a few instructions, and yelled "Go!".

A relay is a complex undertaking. Each of us ran in order:  Fern #1, Gail #2, Faith #3, Lynn #4, Mary #5. As Fern started running to the first transition area 7.2 miles away, the rest of us took a few minutes for one last visit to the restroom, climbed into the car, and drove off in search of Fern. Whenever we passed a runner, we rolled down the window and cheered them on. We drove to the first turn, parked the car, and as we saw Fern run up we spilled out of the car, cheering her on and making sure she made the correct turn. Then we climbed back into the car, drove ahead, and repeated the process until we reached the transition area.

Hundreds of times during the day we repeating the following:  climb in the car, drive ahead of the runner, stop and wait for the runner, cheer them on. Sometimes the routine varied:  we stopped for gas, to purchase scones and muffins at a bakery, to use an indoor bathroom. We changed out of cold and wet running clothes in the car. We drank chocolate milk, ate energy bars and pretzels, shared hard-boiled eggs and string cheese, and drank water constantly to refuel and get ready for the next run.

The only quiet time was when I was running. This was the first year of the Old Route Relay, and there were only 32 teams. We ran by ourselves the vast majority of the time, periodically seeing other relay teams and exchanging hellos and information. Most of the route was along rural roads with very little traffic. The weather stayed cold and overcast, with fog and clouds obscuring any possible mountain views. As I ran along, pushing the pace faster than usual because this IS a race, after all, I noticed the cows in the green fields, the smell of fresh manure, and the daffodils blooming by the farmhouses. Periodically the silence was broken by the sound of our car coming up behind me, and my teammates cheering out the windows. "Are you OK?" "Do you need any water?" "You look great!". Then it was back to listening to my feet crunch in the gravel as I continued the run.

Tradition holds that everyone on the team runs the last few yards together. This was easy for Mary, our last runner, since she had built up speed running down the hill and had the finish line in her sights. The rest of us moved more slowly as we tried to work the kinks out of sore, tired, and cold joints and muscles. We managed to cross the finish line together, cementing the fact that we were a team.

Mary, Gail, Fern, Faith and Lynn after the finish



The day wasn't over! We drove south toward home, looking for a restaurant with hot food after a long day snacking on food from our cooler. The conversation continued, this time telling stories of the various routes we ran that day, the other relay teams we met, and of course more laughter. We pulled back into Fern's driveway at 5:30pm on Sunday, 30 hours after we left.

Running is often a solo endeavor as we fit time to run into busy lives. The running groups give us the opportunity for weekly group training runs, and we often go to races together. Even if we run alongside someone else during the race, it's still an individual experience.

A relay is a group event from start to finish, changing and enriching the entire race experience. After so much time spent together, we appreciate the details of each other's lives. Our friendships deepen as we cover the miles. Add another medal to my collection, another t-shirt to my drawer, and memories to be savored as I run again this week.

Running blind

It made sense when I planned it out:  finish my work for the day, use the wheelbarrow to haul mulch for the flower beds, go to the eye doctor to figure out why vision in my right eye is blurry, and then fit in a quick 3 mile run before going out to dinner.

It didn't make as much sense after Dr. Porter decided to dilate my eyes, leaving my pupils almost as large as my irises. When I picked up the prescription for cortisone eye drops to hopefully decrease the eyelid inflammation that seems to be causing the blurry vision, the pharmacy tech had to fill out the paperwork for me because I couldn't see clearly enough to read.

At least I remembered my running sunglasses, and thought that an easy mile on the Rec Park path, followed by quarter mile intervals and a short cool-down, wouldn't tax my limited vision resources. When I had trouble fitting the trunk key in the lock to get out my heart rate monitor, I knew my plans were going to change. I couldn't open the trunk, which meant I couldn't gauge my pace using my heart rate monitor. I thought I'd run old-school and time myself using my Timex Ironman sports watch. Until I realized I couldn't see the numbers on the watch.

On to plan C, or possibly at this point plan F. I decided to simply run by how I felt. I took the first mile slow and easy, and after a quick hamstring stretch (who knew that hauling mulch could tighten up my hamstrings?), I sped off for the first quarter-mile interval. Luckily there are large wooden fence posts marking quarter miles on the Rec Park path, and I've run this path hundreds of times so there's no danger of inadvertently making a wrong turn due to blurry vision.

I alternated fast and slow quarter-miles, stopping to stretch before the next fast interval. I based my pace on my breathing instead of my watch and on pumping my arms more quickly instead of checking the number of steps I took in 30 seconds.

When I first started running 20 years ago, I ran to take in views of the Green Mountains, to hear my feet crunch up the hills on the dirt roads around my house, to listen for birds instead of the telephone or the kids needing me right that minute. Somehow I got away from the joy of running simply to run, and became dependent on pace, heart rate, set workouts, and weekly mileage goals. My run today started as a typical scripted workout, part of the larger plan of training for the Flying Pig marathon in two weeks and the 50 mile Old Route Relay this weekend. I ended up squinting when I ran through sunny sections of the path and enjoying the comfort of the shady parts. I could still see the mountains and hear the birds. I ran, and realized that was the whole point.

Are you leery about joining a running group?

I'll admit it:  joining a new running group can create a lot of anxiety and even fear. What if they all run really fast? What if I'm the oldest, youngest, heaviest, slowest, most awkward, etc? Will anybody talk to me?

Our Spring training group started Sunday with introductions from women new to the group, hugs for those we haven't seen in a few months, and lots of cheering for the ones who finished a half-marathon two weeks ago. BJ proudly wore a shirt with "13.1 miles - been there, done that" on the front. Harriet showed off her Training for More running cap, complete with the green and purple streamers we added for the half-marathon. Many of the women wore a favorite race t-shirt from one of our group races.

As we went around the circle introducing ourselves, I heard a few common themes:
- I joined the group because I miss walking/running with my friends
- I'm here to keep up my motivation
- Running/walking together is so much fun!

As we walked and ran around the path at the Manchester Rec Park for our cool-down at the end of our first session, Sonce, new to our group, told me how much fun she was already having. "I only joined to support my friends, and thought I'd never come here on my own. But everyone is so friendly and supportive, I'll be back!"

Joining a walking/running group can increase your motivation, fitness, endurance, confidence and fun quotient. Don't let fear hold you back!

Another half-marathon completed!

39 women from our half-marathon and marathon training groups gathered in Westfield, MA for the race on April 1st.

The Boys and Girls Club was a wonderful spot to get our gear together, stretch, and prepare for the race. Seasoned racers shared advice, everyone double-checked to make sure they had their number pinned on the front of their shirt, and lots of laughter helped calm pre-race jitters.

At 10am, the walkers started their race to enthusiastic cheering.

Then one hour later, the runners started as part of the largest field ever at this race - almost 900 of us!

We had perfect race day conditions:  temperatures right around 50, overcast skies, and little to no wind. The course was beautiful, and the three hills in the first four miles were easy compared to our hilly roads in southwestern Vermont. Everyone finished feeling strong, some with smiles and cheers, others with emotions overflowing.

Every year I'm amazed at what these women have accomplished. They not only trained - outside - in freezing temperatures, snowstorms, sleet, rain, and the hottest March temperatures on record - but they also juggled family committments and work to make time for themselves. They made new friends, cemented old friendships, told stories of blisters and Gu, and through everything helped each other reach their goals.

As they cross through the finish line to the cheers of their family, friends and the group, they realize what they've just done. They not only walked or ran 13.1 miles today, but they accumulated  over 100 miles of walking and running in their training this winter.

Finishing a half-marathon is a really big deal. Finishing it with your training group is amazing.

I'm not a hugger, but after a race I give out - and receive - hugs from everyone. Big hugs with lots of tears due to the range of emotions everyone is feeling:  relief, pride, joy, amazement.

13.1 miles.  Been there, done that.

Tomorrow is the half-marathon!

The day before a big race is always busy, exciting, fun, and nerve-wracking. There are a lot of details to attend to, and there's always the big unknowns:  how will I feel in the morning? Will the weather cooperate? What if the porta-pottie line is too long?

The race almost doubled the amount of runners this year, the majority at the last minute. That means they're scrambling to have enough t-shirts and medals, plus longer lines at packet pick-up. I give Mike Sheldon and his crew a lot of credit for handling everything with patience and friendliness. Our group is ready:  we'll arrive early, wear fuel belts to carry water/Gatorade just in case the waterstops are jammed, and support each other along the course.

Tonight we celebrated the end of our half-marathon training with a pre-race dinner at the Hotel Northampton. Great food, lots of stories and laughter, and wonderful rembrances of the past 3 months.

We missed the rest of our group who are driving in tomorrow morning, and those who weren't able to make the race this year for various reasons. The training is a group effort, and the race tomorrow is a celebration both of individual women who pushed past their fears and doubts to reach their goals, plus the group supporting each other every step of the way.

I'm excited to see them in the morning, race numbers pinned on their shirts, wearing team hats with green and purple streamers, nervously anticipating the start of their 13.1 mile journey. I'll be thrilled to see them as they cross the finish line, first-timers side-by-side with experienced race veterans.

Someone said she was sad to see the group ending, but it never really 'ends'. The next training session starts April 15th, the marathon group is working toward their goal race in May, friendships will continue, and we'll wave as we pass a car in town with the familiar "Runner Girl" or "13.1" sticker on the rear bumper.

Runners, on your mark!

Thoughts on finishing 12 miles

This morning the half-marathon group did their last weekend group run/walk:  6 miles on an overcast, cloudy day with temperatures hovering around 50. There's a lot of excitement for the race next weekend, but also apprehension about finishing a half-marathon. Veterans in the group are encouraging the new folks. Everyone is trading tips on clothing, carbohydrate, Vaseline vs Body Glide, and the best way to massage sore legs.

We met for breakfast at Nipper's Cafe after we finished our 6 miles and enjoyed great food, new friends, and conversation. Erin ran with her daughter, Dana, this morning - and brought her to breakfast. She's getting an early start enjoying running!

Quinn and Cubby are the youngest members of our group

Look closely at Erin at the far end of the table with Dana on her lap

Last weekend the half-marathon group did their first 12 mile distance. Not only is 12 miles a long way, but it was hot, sunny, and humid. Definitely not typical weather for Vermont in mid-March and certainly not perfect running weather. How does it feel to walk/run 12 miles?

After I finished 12 miles,I was happy,very sore and was wishing my husband made steaks for lunch!:)
Lilibeth

"When I finish 12 miles, I feel ........... pumped and so does my dog!!

Nancy

After completing 12 miles I feel:

Exhilarated and tired,confident and sore, and so thankful to be able to get out there and enjoy beautiful scenery among wonderful friends!

Audrey

When I finish a new, long distance I feel accomplished, and thankful I have so many ladies out there cheering me on, AND thankful for my family too -  who cheer me on from just up the road, or by phone!!
Linda

When I finish 12 miles, I feel really glad to be done and I think that I can go about my day thinking...I ran 12 miles today.  And after yesterday...ready for a good shower!
Erin

When I finish my 12 miles I feel …. grateful for the training over the last weeks that enabled me to walk this far !

Carol

When I finish twelve miles...I feel very accomplished.  This is something that, at one point, felt so out of reach.  So I also feel proud of myself for sticking with it and making it happen.  

Laurie

When I finish 12 miles, I feel proud and overwhelmed as I never imagined doing this.  It is a real challenge for me and I have much more to learn…love it!

Cindy

When I finish 12 miles... I feel tired but accomplished and proud and I think if I I can do 12 then I can do 13 miles!
Hannah

When I finish 12 miles I feel old but great
Mary

After completing 12 miles, I feel: Mentally & Emotionally 'WOW'! I did it and feel great.  Physically I feel a little 'wow', worn out. But the whole experience is wonderful. This year I've gotten to run more of the longer distances with the group and it has made such a difference.

Faith

I think that how I feel after finishing 12 miles is different each time - though I think this was only my 3rd time ever!  After finishing THIS 12, I felt grateful.  I am grateful that my body was strong and healthy enough to run most of the 12 miles.  I am grateful that I had an awesome group of ladies surrounding me (because it was not the easiest run I've ever had).  I was grateful for the sun, but not necessarily that much heat.  Undoubtedly, I was grateful to be done!  Looking forward to 13.1...  Sarah

When I finish 12 miles, I feel strong and so thankful that I decided to take that first step back in January!

Michelle

Spring, Shorts, Sunshine

Sometimes everything comes together perfectly, making for one of those memorable runs that come back to me over and over.

Our group run today was scheduled for noon, right at the time when the sun was high and bright warming the temperatures into the mid-50's. That's a heat wave for early March in southwestern Vermont, but the weather this winter has been consistently unusual. I just received a new running skirt and was anxious to try it out, pasty white legs and all.

Usually 4-6 women show up for the Wednesday noon run, but today Fern and Harriet weren't feeling well, Carol is in California, and Patty had to work. At 12:05 I decided it was time for a solo run, and headed out for two loops, each 5 miles.

Today's 10 mile run was supposed to be an easy, basebuilding run but I couldn't help myself:  I pushed the pace. As I ran out of town on Richville Road into a strong south wind, I shortened my stride and aimed for a higher leg turnover. I decided to push myself even harder up the hills, enjoying the sun in my face and the feeling of the running skirt against my legs.

The first run of the Spring in shorts is always special. There are still pockets of snow along the road, the ski areas remain busy, and it's going to get below freezing again tonight. The freedom of running without mittens, neckwarmer, hat, tights, and jacket is liberating, and I decided to keep pushing the pace once I turned around at the top of a hill on Richville Road. I promised myself I'd slow down on the second 5 mile loop.

As the post office where I parked my car came into sight, I saw Liz from our group walking toward me. Somehow we miscommunicated the time of today's run, and she started a bit before 1pm for a 2 mile fast walk. I decided to walk 2 miles out and back with her, catching up on her life and learning about a woman in Salem who makes fantastic soap and hand lotion from goat milk and healing herbs she grows in her garden. Liz promised to give me a sample of the lotion as she finished her 2 miles and I headed off for the second of my 5 mile loops.

This time I ran easily, listening to the birds, watching the clouds float across the sky, and dodging the melting snow puddles on the sidewalk. Turn around at the Town Hall and then a slight downhill back into town, with a steep downhill on Center Hill; my reward for the faster and hillier first 5 mile loop of the afternoon.

There's much to savor about today's run:  feeling strong pushing the pace, early Spring sunshine, the surprise of meeting Liz, a new running skirt with shorts that don't ride up into my crotch. This one's a keeper.

Why do we run? Because we can!

The group of hardy women training for a May marathon throughout the Vermont winter decided to order bright blue headbands or hats with the words "Because I can" emblazoned across the front. Deciding on a color took 2 weeks, as we narrowed down the choices to something that everyone liked. Coming up with the words to put on the front of our headgear took longer, going through several possibilities before we finally settled on "Because I can".

Troy, Alisa and Kim after finishing 18 miles - modeling their "Because I can" headbands

Why do I run marathons? Because I can.
Why do I run with a group of women? Because I can.
Why do I spend around 5 hours on a weekend morning running with my friends? Because I can.

Each of us has many reasons why we run, and why we run specific distances or races. Boil those hundreds of reasons down, similiar to to the sap from the maple sugar trees that Vermonters are currently boiling down into maple syrup, and you get one, sweet, deliciously heady reason: 

Because I can.

Hitting double digits for the first time

the 8am group

the 9am group

Today the half-marathon group put in their first double-digit training session:  10 miles. Not only did they walk or run 10 miles, they were 10 HILLY miles. We started up a hill within the first half mile, and the hills kept coming. We then ran down two steep hills, just to add in a bit more fun (along with some very loud complaining from our quads). The last half-mile was as flat as it gets in Vermont.

Nearly everyone is nervous about covering 10 miles. It seems like 10 miles is a whole lot longer than 9 miles, even though as my friend Mandy likes to say:  "you just run 1 mile. 10 times."

Wrapping your head around 10 miles is daunting. It's not quite 10 miles from my house to Dorset, but that seems like a long way. It's 3 miles to the grocery store, but I never think about running to the grocery store; I drive to the grocery store. Even bicyling 10 miles seems like a good amount of exercise.

Today we ran or walked 10 miles and when we're back inside Cornerstone, talking about the route, the hills, the sleet, the hail, the icy marble sidewalks and the slippery dirt roads; 10 miles doesn't seem so far.

We have 4 more weeks in our half-marathon training schedule, and now that we've covered 10 miles, 13.1 miles seems reachable. In fact, today Lilibeth asked:  "What are we going to train for next?" - and this was before we started off on our 10 mile jaunt.

These ladies are strong mentally and physically, they're having fun, and they're putting in their miles. After they finish the half-marathon on April 1st, 'next' is whatever they want it to be.

46 degrees in February???

February in Vermont usually means lots of snow, maybe some ice, and a glimpse of sunshine every now and then to keep our hopes up.

This year February has meant brown grass, very little snow, and mud - lots of mud.

Today it was 46 degrees at noon for our half-marathon group 3 mile walk/run. Not only was it warm, but the sun was shining! We've earned this weather by running in sub-zero temperatures, slogging through the snow, and dealing with icy roads and sidewalks.

Next up:  warm enough to run in shorts!

We run to eat

Last week I was doing a fartlek (speed play) run with Fern. As we sped up the steepest hill, our heart rates zooming up into the highest zones, she started reciting the ingredients in the salad she prepared for lunch after she finished the run. While I was trying just to breathe and keep moving forward, she merrily sang out:  "avocoado - huff, huff; chicken - huff, huff; favorite vegetables". The vision of the beautiful, delicious salad powered her up the hill. After we caught our breaths and flew down the other side of the hill, we laughed about the motivational qualities of food.

Saturday the marathon group planned breakfast/brunch/lunch after finishing 18 miles. Cups of hot coffee warmed cold hands, glasses of chocolate milk refueled our muscles, and eggs, sandwiches, and Chauncey's house specialty - home-made potato chips - satisfied our hunger. The meal wasn't just about the food, although eating was definitely a priority. The time together to talk, laugh, and get to know each other better fueled our minds and emotions as we replaced our energy stores.

We decided to skip dessert.

Winter running in the Hollow

The thermometer on my car read 14 degrees, but the sun was shining in a light blue sky as I drove into the small parking area at the intersection of Lower and Upper Hollow Roads in Dorset. A running friend earlier in the morning told me there was a brisk north wind so I pulled on a fleece neck warmer that fits over my nose and added a hat for extra warmth.

The Hollow is a favorite just-under-5-miles mostly dirt road loop located in one of the highest valleys of the Taconic Mountain range in southwestern Vermont. Walkers and runners love the Hollow for it's quiet beauty and rolling hills. There's very little traffic, especially in the winter when the vast majority of the second-home owners spend their time in warmer climates.

There's a big debate about which direction to properly run the Hollow:  Lower Hollow Road, with it's 2 mile long gradual uphill first? Or tackle Upper Hollow with it's rolling hills and then enjoy a long downhill on Lower Hollow? I opted to start on Lower Hollow so the wind would be at my back. Lower Hollow crests hills in the middle of open farmland, providing a beautiful view across the valley to Upper Hollow. Dust clouds swirled in front of me, and I was glad for my sun glasses to protect my eyes from the wind, dusty grit, and sun.

Today was a first:  not one car passed me as I ran along the dusty road. The wind howled at my back, making me think that a large pick-up truck or perhaps one of the heating oil trucks was coming up behind me. As I glanced back over my shoulder, all I saw was my shadow and the tops of the bare trees bending in the wind. I found myself paying attention to the sounds:  the creaking of old oak and maple trees, dried brown leaves skittering along the road, and every so often the jingling of the bells from a December 5K race stilled tied to my shoes.

I made the sharp turn onto Upper Hollow Road, the wind blasting in my face, slowing my pace as I tucked my chin and kept churning my legs to move forward. Just a bit further, I thought, and I'll reach the shelter of trees and the hills that drop close to the edges of the road. Where Lower Hollow follows a mostly straight path through farmland, Upper Hollow twists and turns through forested hills, offering reprieve from the wind.

I enjoyed the shelter of Upper Hollow and the pattern of shadows from the trees crossing the road in front of me. At time I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride. You know when the roller coaster gets to a steep uphill section, it slows down and you can hear the wheels clicking into the cogs, pulling you up to the top? At the very top there's a slight hesitation, and then the roller coaster screams down the other side until it slows once again as it reaches the next steep section. I imagined myself as a roller coaster, downshifting and slowing my pace to chug up the hills, pausing for a moment at the top for a deep breath and a glance around at the view, and then letting my legs turnover quickly beneath me as I sped down the road.

40 minutes into the run I realized I couldn't feel my thighs, and my cheeks were stinging due to the cold and the wind. Thank goodness for a sunny day and microfleece pulled up to just under my eyes. I decided to speed up for the last few hills and the final curve back to my car.

Most of my runs this time of year are with women from my running group, filled with talk and laughter so that often I don't notice my surroundings. Today I cherished running alone, paying attention to the sounds of my breath and feet, gazing over the valley to the scattered houses visible through the leafless trees on the other side, and watching the clouds roll across the sky. Not only was I running by myself, but I saw no other people. No traffic, no one walking outside their house, not even a dog in a yard.

As I stretched next to my car at the end of the run, a man and woman walked down the road in front of me. "Beautiful day!", they called out, the first human sound outside of my breath and the jingling of the bells on my shoes I'd heard in the past hour.

Full moon and stars

I headed out with the running group a little after 6pm this evening, and as we walked across the frozen parking lot at Cornerstone Fitness in Manchester, a full moon rose in the sky in front of us. The moon hovered just over the top of the Green Mountains, and it lit up the ground almost as well as our headlamps.

1.25 miles later we turned onto Bonnet Street, and once again saw the full moon, this time a bit higher in the sky and surrounded by bright stars. One of the many benefits of living in a small town in southwestern Vermont is the lack of light pollution. Even though we were running in the middle of town where street lamps light the sidewalks, we could still see the moon and stars against the black sky. My sister who lives in Houston always comments on how dark it is in Vermont at night, and also on the number of stars. She rarely sees the stars in Houston because of all the lights from the city.

The moon was again right in front of me as I drove up East Manchester Road toward home. There are no streetlights in this part of town, yet the clear night, bright stars and full moon made it easy to see the road. I was tempted to turn off my car's headlights and drive the 1/3 mile down our dead-end dirt road with only the moon to guide me. I followed the rules and left the headlights on, but after I parked the car I stood outside in the darkness for a few moments, enjoying the night sky and the shadows cast by the moon.

Thank you, running group, for the opportunity to experience this wonderful night!

Conversation over a 16 mile run

Our 16 mile run today on the Shires marathon course was like a slinky - one that talks.

We started off in small groups, larger groups, pairs, and a couple of women who prefer to run on their own. "Watch out for the ice!", "car behind us", and "wow - look at that view" were shouted out to the line of 12 women stretching down the road.

Over the 16 mile course some of us caught up to those in front, and we all ran at the same pace for a few minutes to talk and laugh. Then we'd separate again as someone took a walk break, we headed up a hill at various speeds, or someone else felt like running a bit faster. At one point I stopped to take off my shoe to remove a large stone, debated the merits of catching up to the group in front of me, and opted to wait for the group I heard behind me - their laughter brightened my day as much as the sunshine.

After the run, Mandy and Patty said the 6 of us in front of them looked like a flock of geese as we ran down the middle of Old Depot Road. I have many favorite parts of the Shires course, but the 8 miles on dirt roads from the railroad tracks on Airport Road to the end of Old Depot Road are at the top of the list. There's little to no traffic, the roads curve and wind through farmland and forests, and the view of the Green Mountains is gorgeous. Plus we can run down the middle of the road if we please.

Troy caught up to us and ran a few feet in front for a few minutes, looking over her shoulder to join the conversation. She sped up a hill, then jogged in circles waiting for us to join her - the conversation was too interesting to miss.

We talked about religion, the Komen Foundation and Planned Parenthood, a daughter whose phone was stolen on the NY subway, the amount of snow in Colorado compared to our lack of snow here, compression clothing, our favorite flavor of Gu, when we first started our menstrual cycle and what it's like to go through menopause. As someone from the group in front of us slowed down, she was drawn seamlessly into the conversation.

Once we reached the Stewart's in Arlington, our endpoint for the day, we continued talking while we stretched, changed into dry clothes, drank chocolate milk and ate our favorite recovery foods. We kept to our talking slinky ways as women joined the group, went outside to their cars, came back inside, cheered as the next person finished her 16 miles, figured out carpooling, and made plans for the next run.

20 women running 16 miles on beautiful Vermont roads on a sunny winter morning. I'm still smiling.

Running alone or in a group?

Which do you prefer:  running alone, or running with a group?

I first started running by myself, as a way to create a quiet space, free of telephones and demands on my time. I never run with music, prefering to listen for the birds in the trees, the wind blowing through my hair, or even the thread of a song I heard on the radio earlier in the day that endlessly repeats in my mind.

Five years ago I started running with a group of women, and the dynamics of running were turned upside down. We rarely run in silence, instead talking over the latest news headlines or updating each other on our family's busy lives. We fall into a comfortable pace and instead of noticing the clouds racing across the sky in front of the wind we share thoughts on the best new restaurants in town.

Tonight I enjoyed both types of running, starting out on my own as daylight turned into darkness. As I headed up steep Center Hill Road, I paced my breath with my stride, focusing on the top of the hill, concentrating on maintaining a steady, even pace. Running down the sidewalks in front of the stores just closing for the evening, I thought about the way Manchester has changed over the past year. It seems like every month another store or restaurant closes, and the state of the economy is on everyone's mind.  My pace quickened as I turned the last corner onto Richville Road, watching my headlamp light the sidewalk and enjoying the quiet darkness.

20 minutes later I headed out on the same route, this time with 9 women from my running group. Wendy, Patty, Laurie and talked about triathlons and the lack of an indoor pool in Manchester. We ran up Center Hill together, my thoughts not on my breath or pace but on the group conversation. I looked back down the hill, seeing the string of headlamps and high-vis yellow running gear stretching out behind us. At one point our route circles back, and the faster runners kept going toward the finish. I kept pace with Audrey, right behind Michelle and Morgan with Linda and Liz close behind us. We talked about the best meals for a slow cooker, the pricing of the newest restaurants, and the amount of snow in the mountains. As we turned the last corner onto Richville Road, instead of running by myself in the quiet darkness I was surrounded by women talking about the 7 mile run we have planned for this weekend.

I love the independence of running by myself and the opportunity to let my thoughts wander. I love running with other women, learning about their lives and finding common ground. Our ages tonight span 40 years, from 14 to 54. We live in 7 different towns within a 25 mile radius. We have young children, teenagers, college-age kids and grown-up children out on their own. This is the first year with the group for 4 of the women, and 2 started with the very first group 5 years ago. The running group brings us together, allowing us to match our pace and our breath as we run in the dark, conversation carrying us along.

I don't prefer one type of running over the other. Instead, I'm thankful I have the opportunity for both the silence and the talk, solitude and company.

Motivation

Why would any sane person sign up for a half-marathon training group that starts in early January? Even though southwestern Vermont is fondly known as 'the banana belt' when it comes to Vermont weather patterns, it's still winter in New England and that means snow, cold, and what the weather guys fondly call a 'wintry mix' (sleet, ice, freezing rain, thundersnow).

The 30 women in our group list a variety of reasons for setting off on a goal to complete a half-marathon:

• improve stamina
• friends talked them into it
• want to be fit and healthy
• the challenge of completing a 13.1 mile event
• the company of other active women
• group support and motivation
• enjoy outside exercise in the winter
• lose weight
• meet new people
• have fun!

As we start our third week of training, I'm hearing that everyone is making progress on all of these goals:

• they run farther up Center Hill before they need to walk
• they've walked or run farther than ever before in their lives - 5 miles!
• they're meeting new friends and re-establishing friendships
• they get out of bed when the temperature is -8 because they know the group is counting on them
• we've been out in the snow, wind, sun, dark, rain:  and we're still moving forward

Plus we're having a lot of fun! We went to a pancake breakfast together after one of our weekend runs, and we have a potluck breakfast scheduled for early February. We talk our way through the miles, and even laugh about frozen eyelashes.

9 more weeks until race day!