Last Place Runner

Making the loop at Crystal Bridges

I had my Valentine race yesterday. I almost talked myself out of it because (TMI alert) getting older has been a total misery for my uterus. I woke up around 4 yesterday morning to deal with a catastrophic period and I thought there was no way I could go to the race. But I was still awake at 6, and the race was at 7:30. So I went. And, as usual, I was glad I did.

I went with Lauren and her two kids. The thing about racing at my age is that the age group is very competitive. Women my age are done with kids — some of their kids are probably even grown. Women my age are battling middle-age weight gain and they’re realizing how much their “old” bodies can do. And I’m fine with showing up for a race knowing I’m not taking home a medal. It’s always just a good experience. It’s fun to see everyone and to hear all the cheering. I feel good about how much I ran yesterday, and I feel good about the walking I did, too. And I’m proud of my buddy Oliver, who was such a motivator and inspiration to me when I first started running in October. He’s 4 now and I hope he will not find himself in his late 30s, out of shape and miserable. I hope he will always love to run and to be part of that community. He’s already well known with a lot of runners in town and his parents are so great to encourage him without forcing him into it.

I’m glad I got to race with him yesterday, and I hope we will race together often. I also know, though, that it won’t be long before he is leaving me in the dust. I hope he will. I can always bring up the rear if he’ll be waiting at the finish line!

Of course, I also wouldn’t be where I am without other volunteers I met through the training program. I saw James yesterday as I pushed toward the finish line. He stopped to shake my hand and congratulate me for continuing. I will look forward to seeing him out there at races, too.

And none of us would have the fantastic community of runners that we have if it weren’t for our coach and biggest cheerleader of runners of all ages, shapes, sizes, abilities, and goals. Mike Rush and his whole family is devoted to runners in our area. I can’t even begin to imagine how much goes into these races, long before they happen and long after we’re at home laying on the couch. If you even think you might want to run, even if you’re pretty sure you’ll hate it and you just want to see if you’re right, see Mike. No matter what shape you’re in, he sees you as a runner. You’re an athlete. You can run to your mailbox and he thinks you’re a beast for it. Best of all, he will do anything he can to make sure you’re not out there in the middle of the course thinking you hate running and you’ll never do it again. Because just as soon as you start to have those thoughts, you will hear a madman hollering and then you will see Mike running toward you in a ridiculous costume — boxer shorts and angel wings? — in 30-degree weather. And he will cheer for you. You specifically. And you’ll pull yourself out of that fog of hating running and you’ll go farther and faster than you ever have.

My running coach in his Cupid getup at the race on Saturday