Jeff Foley photos for Friehofer's race site.
HERE THEY COME AGAIN. It’s running time, the wonderful perennial rebirth of runs for women, and with them those marvelous stories about women who run together, who run in memory of a sister, or who started running together and now run the races of summer.
TSP loves reading these stories. And we also love that these races have gone all social networky on us, out there as they are on Twitter, Facebook, etc. Which is how we stumbled upon the 31st annual Freihofer’s Run for Women, one of the world’s largest and most prestigious all-female races. It kicked off the warm season in the Northeast, giving women runners that jumpstart to what are the great dog days of running.
I’ve started running again, though starting (again) as a beginner. I run only on a very lovely, gracious and forgiving brand new track at a local college that beats the hell out of running on the road, which I can no longer do owing to the wear and tear and general (new found) phobia of cars. So, I’m running with you, sisters, though I’m off the road for good. I’ve also got myself an online trainer. Cool, huh?
In my enthusiasm, I’ve been reading women’s running blogs: My favorites are Crunchy ‘Nanas, runmoretalkless, and athenadiaries.
Got any to add? Know anyone who is running, or of a groups whose mission it is to run together? Let us know.
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How cool! I’ve been running since February 2008, except for the last 2 months since I hurt my back (doing something else). My chiropractor said I could start running again this weekend, so I’m excited.
I ran (among others) the Susan Komen Race for the Cure last October (5K) and the Turkey Trot last November (10K). What is this local college track where you run? I’ve been running mostly in downtown Troy and in the Corning Preserve. I have some occasional running partners at work, but mostly I run by myself. :-(
Some friends and I are doing the Danskin triathlon together again (NE is in Webster, MA) http://www.danskin.com/raceinfo.html.
Though I was a runner in high school, the run is the toughest leg for me.
I don’t follow any running blogs, and I’m afraid to click and have yet another blog stop/distraction each day!
I do use—and love—www.mapmyrun.com though. Great for finding new routes for running or biking and tracking workouts—you can even keep track of the number of miles on your shoes.
Hi, Millie. Welcome back. So great of you to provide those resources. So appreciated. This is not easy, this running thing, so every bit of help is really treasured. Ooooh, the Danskin looks great. Go get ‘em. Let us know how you do in your training, and at the race. We’d love to follow your progress.
I love mapmyrun.com, too, and I, too, am back to running after several years’ hiatus. Before I had my daughter, I used to run/walk several mornings a week with some L.A. sister-friends, and those mornings were the ultimate physical therapy (mental, too, goes without saying.) I now run alone, sometimes with a trainer/coach who has immeasurably helped my gait and my confidence. I am loving Tara Parker-Pope over at the NYT–she has a blog about (among other thigns) training for her first marathon, and thanks to her, I found Jeff Galloway’s great site. Finally, I like the blog Mama in Pajamas–writer Dianna is recently returned-to-running and her success and diligence are really inspiring. Meanwhile, my coach is encouraging me to run this race–anyone want to join me?
I’ve been thinking about that race, Paige. I did it a couple years ago. If I can get into gear training-wise I just might do it with you!
Ooooh, Paige. You hadn’t let on you were running. I’m mightily tempted. Let’s see how I do in the next week or so in my training. Could be a TSP contingent in local races soon.
Marion,
Here’s what happened when I walked my first 1/2 marathon in my sixth decade….
A REALLY GREAT WALK IN THE PARK
It’s 5:30 am when the hotel wake up call rouses me from a deep, deep sleep and I arise with apprehension and anxiety, heading to the shower and then
to the eight ounce glass of water I’m allowing myself, to the three whole wheat crackers with soy peanut butter spread which I consume with immediately with gusto
the cousins call at 7:10 am, just approaching the brooklyn bridge, on their way, and say I should be in the lobby in ten minutes to be picked up and driven by my cousin’s husband to the 72nd street transverse in central park
where we’ll meet the other reportedly 7000 women who are running or walking this marathon
all of whom appear to be clustered at 72nd street as we move into the crowd and get our bearings, head toward the folks who look like organizers, hear the herders telling us which group to join
which we do and wait, wait in the already searing sun for something to move us, for someone to move, which doesn’t happen for another half hour
during which time my anxiety and apprehension are replaced by a party mode along with the first inklings of sweat and tedium which will only increase over the next two hours as it approaches record heat in new york city
topping at 92 degrees which, happily, I don’t know at that moment as we paw at the ground like racing fillies at the starting gate, wondering what the delay is all about
glancing secretly at other marathoners around us, trying to be pleasant but remembering that each is a competitor, admiring the impressionistic foliage in the park prematurely leafing and budding in the unnatural heat
thinking about time and trying to convince myself that my time doesn’t matter while chatting idle chatter with my cousins about heat, other people’s team tee shirts and musing that we should do this next year when we get all the women in the family to join us
although we can’t imagine they all would, but we would certainly ask
then someone on a loud microphone tells us we’re off but that they’ve decided to shorten the marathon because of the unusual heat and the organizers’ concern for everyone’s health so there will be no running after three hours and no walking twice around the park, only once
so our distance is now cut to seven miles and I think I am secretly relieved ’cause I wasn’t convinced that I could do it anyway
now I start walking with my older cousin who is such a good sport not only today but in life, following her daughter and her niece, my first cousins once removed
we’re feeling energetic and strong and I’m so glad I got to this point because there were times in the last week when I didn’t think I would get past the cold I acquired
my breathing is still labored but ever so much better than it had been the day before
so we seem to get to the first mile with ease, grab gatorade and water from the ever- ready volunteers, pass the volunteers cheering us on with “looking good, keep going, love your smile sweetheart, you go girl” and whoops and claps
the volunteer orange vested guys in the middle keep reminding us “runners to the left walkers to the right,”
I can sometimes feel the breath and pounding of a determined runner coming up beside me, or feel the punch of a really focused and determined woman as she accidentally hits in to me running by
and I notice the older, even older than I women slowly, slowly walking along by themselves seemingly lost in their own worlds
as we reach the northern end of the park in harlem, the beautiful gentrified neighborhood that I hadn’t known when I lived in the city rises in the distance
so I tell my cousins about my year with toni morrison, a lover of harlem, and our work on the literacy campaign, and then we cross over from the west to the east side of the park
inhaling overwhelming clouds of fragrance from the flowering trees and bushes, as we begin to see women on the side affected by the heat or wounded limbs or feet
the gatorade and water seem to be so far away as the sun rises in the sky and beats unrelentingly on my shoulders, and I’m so glad I wore the shirt with its long sleeves and fiber that absorbs my sweat
my visor is beginning to bother me as it gets wet around the front of my head so I take it off from time to time to relieve my head
I don’t take the salt packets they’re handing out, and my breathing by mile four is not so easy and I’ve run out of tissues and have to keep sniffling so betsy and I decide to stop at one or the porta potties and grab tissue for my nose, but the toilet paper holder is empty and it’s really wet in that hole so we move on
as I keep sniffling we’re so glad we heading south on the east side now and we pass my cousin’s high school, fondly known as ninety-first street, where the mothers of the sacred heart taught and still teach
in a setting that encourages high achievement, ladylike behavior, successful lives, although at the moment this cousin graduate looks nothing at all like a white gloved, French fluent debutante
but we know that once we’ve passed the academy we only have a couple of more miles and we keep talking about our family and how we could never do the full marathon in this weather
saying that as we pass a woman lying belly down on the grass, spread eagle, being fanned by about eight people
we get to the six mile marker and know we only have one more to go so we talk about our wonderful grandmother who raised this cousin and keep our mind on her and not our lack of breath
the next thing you know we’re heading to the finish line and there’s a large gang of people cheering and cameras all over the place and music and a real honest to god place called finish line and we’re through it
someone is giving us a medallion to hang around our necks and then we have to go to the side to get our chips removed from our shoes ’cause if we don’t we’ll be charged for the chips
all I can think of is how hard it is to breathe
then I get really shaky, probably because I needed those salt tablets or more calories and I’m afraid I’ll faint so I say I’m heading to that bunch of benches over there in the shade
my cousins get a little worried but try not to look that way, so I sit and wait for my husband and my cousin’s husband to arrive from the finish line where they’re looking for us
but we’re finished
we then part as they head to lunch and their car and home to vermont and we head to an umbrelled cart and a long cold drink and walk a few more blocks back to the hotel on central park south,
where all I could think of was taking off my shoes and lying down while my husband puts a cold cloth on my head for a few minutes,
after which I order a club sandwich and a diet coke from room service and gleefully tell them I had just walked in that marathon, even though we only did half the walk and they were congratulating me
I was feeling like I was about ten and so proud of myself and then a little weepy
so I get in the shower and by the time I’m finished, my sandwich is delivered and I down my diet coke first and then can only eat half the sandwich but it tastes just right
then we get our car and drive home to hang my medallion on the fridge for our grandson to see on his next visit.
Hi, Mary. And welcome to TSP. I love this poem: So emotional, so many places along the way for the sisters to cheer you along. I really love that you were quite willing to admit that you were afraid you’d faint, that you were feeling, “about ten and so proud,” and that you were proud of yourself. The poem is a delight to read; pure inspiration to all of us who are trying to stay in shape/get in shape/love the shape we are in, which is every sister everywhere. Thanks so much. Please come back soon for more.