Running with a headlamp in the dark before dawn gives me the opportunity to watch the sky turn from black to pink, see the sun start to shine on the top of Mt. Equinox, and imagine folks groggily waking up as I'm enjoying the cold air as I run down the road.
Running through a snowstorm feels like I'm in the middle of a snowglobe. I can't see more than a couple feet in front of me, and the world seems soft in the swirling snow.
It's easier to pile on layers of clothing to stay warm in frosty winter temperatures than it is to run through muggy, hot summer days.
Evidently there are lots of hardy women who feel the same as I do about running in the winter, because we ended up with almost 60 women in the first Training for More group in 2008. We included everyone who wanted to participate: women with running experience, women who planned to walk the race, women new to running, women who combined walking and running. There was no requirement for speed - just a desire to complete a half-marathon.
I'll be honest: I was astounded and shocked at the number of women who enthusiastically walked and ran over the 13-week training program. We developed a motto: there's no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing. We laughed our way through a sleet storm, smiled while we were buffeted by northerly winds, and rejoiced on the rare sunny, warm (anything above 32 degrees) days.
Before this running group I had always been a solo runner. I could fit a run inbetween work and taking care of the kids. I ran on my own schedule, at times that suited my family. Often I ran for the silence: no ringing telephone, no one asking me questions, no demands for my attention. Running was my time.
With the running group, I learned to revel in running with other women. You can learn a lot about each other while you run together week after week. We shared stories about our families, our work, the joys in our life. We leaned on each other through injuries, illness, job loss, and death. People in town would wave and honk as they passed us running along East Manchester road early on a weekend morning, a long line of 30 or more women watching our frosty breath fill the air.
When we ran our first half-marathon together in New York City, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Our group of 60 lined up at the back of thousands of women of all ages and shapes, ready to start our 13.1 mile journey. We encouraged each other to keep going, even when we felt tired. We waited in line at the porty-potties together so no one was left alone. We laughed at the flatlanders complaining about the hills in Central Park, and loudly compared the 'hills' to speed bumps. We cheered enthusiastically when each woman crossed the finish line, then engulfed her in hugs as the tears streamed down our faces.
On the bus ride to NYC we watched a video about the Hawaii Ironman triathlon, in awe at the man with two prosthetic legs, the 70+ year old woman, the young man who willed himself into shape after a terrible car accident, and the pro athlete who had a horrible day, yet continued to walk the final marathon portion of the race because how could he give up when so many other people continued on the course? Their stories fueled our determination.
On the bus ride back to Vermont after the race, we shared champagne and stories. Stories about the race and the fun we had in NYC. Stories about our training and how at times we didn't think we'd ever be able to run 6 miles, much less 13.1 miles. Stories about bruised feet and sore quads, along with stories about increased strength, decreased waistlines, and pride of accomplishment.
I initially thought we'd train for a half-marathon, go home, and that would be it. These women would have none of it - they wanted more. We trained for the Freihofer women's 5K and the local Maple Leaf half-marathon. We kept coming back each January, meeting friends and encouraging women new to the group - and often new to running - to join us. For three years 6 of us shared the experience of the Vermont 100 on 100 relay - a 100 mile relay race from Stowe to Okemo that started at 6am as the sun rose over the Green Mountains and ended at 10pm with headlamps and stars lighting our way. Last year 20 women trained for the inaugural Shires marathon and numerous groups of women have completed countless other races from 5K's to marathons to triathlons together.
Most of us didn't know anyone else in the group when we started. Now we stay in touch and plan to walk or run together, or go for a bike ride or swim, or travel to the Albany Fleet Feet store for new shoes, or spy each other's cars in town proudly sporting a 'runner girl' sticker. Even when I run by myself, someone slows down and waves, or lets me know later in the day they saw me out on the road.
Tomorrow we start the 5th year of Training for More, and I can't wait to find out what this year has in store for us!
Wonderful overview Lynn. I am ready for my 4th year of Training ... Thank you!
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