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!