Author: Kristine Binder

Once upon a time there were 4 runner girls. They decided to run a Half Marathon on the other side of the Cheddar Curtain in Kenosha. 2 had trained and trained well for this adventure. The other 2 …not so much. Ok, not really at all…at least not in any serious ‘follow a training plan and run consistently” kind of way.

The adventure began at 5am as the TMI truck pulled out and headed north. As we drove, we were treated to the most beautiful, colorful sunrise. It was just magnificent. The drive was easy and plans for the day were discussed…as well as other topics…but what is talked about in the TMI truck, stays in the TMI truck.

We arrived, parked and prepped. All of us love this race as it is easy to get to, parking is close and free, the bathrooms plentiful, the scenery stunning, and there is Great beer at the end! After we had made the final choices as to what to wear and what to carry, we headed to the start only to find many of our friends from running group. We all started together but soon my pal, Shorty, (names have been changed to protect the innocent) and I were on our own. We had decided on doing a run/walk as the goal was just to finish. We started fast and strong. This was going to be a good day.

About Mile 2 one of our pals running the full marathon came up on us and we chatted a bit. I stopped to take a photo of the lake…it was too pretty.

It was about mile 3 and my playlist was on shuffle as Roma Downey’s , An Irish Blessing, began to play as we passed a beautiful old cemetery then the race took on new meaning. There was a group of spectators lining the course and one was holding a sign that said, “Run Strong”. It was the sign that got my attention but what struck me was the young woman holding it and cheering. She was bald. I ran over to her and hugged her tight. As I hugged her she said, “ you can do this ….because I can’t…” “YES! You can I replied as I took off running…tears streaming down my face. I caught up to Shorty and she was crying too. We both decided that there was going to be no bitchin’. No moaning. No whining. We would finish the race REGARDLESS!

We ran though the quaint downtown area of Kenosha to the cheers of the spectators and headed out towards the Lake and Carthage College. This is a tough part of the course as the spectators thin out to almost nothing, the pavement is pitted and uneven, and the breeze off the Lake pushes me back just enough to make moving forward a tad more challenging. Oh…did I mention that this is also the hillier part of the course? This is also the most gorgeous part of the course as far as scenery. The long stretches along the Lake remind me of one of the reasons I run. I mean, would I have seen the lighthouse and coastline otherwise? Probably not. As we came up on the turn around, we saw our friends, Speedy and Cheesy. They were running strong and looking to PR. It was good to see them, as well as other runners we knew.

About mile 8 I was starting to feel the burn. The wall was coming…I could see it and feel it. I was doing all that I could to push it off. Shorty had to use the bathroom after mile 9 so I told her I would just walk and she could catch up….well just the thought of the bathroom made me have to go and when I realized all the stalls were full, I went to the Men’s side. Minutes later we were on our way to the last leg…the last 3 miles.

As we headed back into the downtown area of Kenosha, the spectators were back, as was the polka band. We are in Wisconsin, after all and I mean really…where else are you going to find a canning and pie shop on the main street?! I rounded a corner and there it was…the Wall. I hit it hard and it was hard to breathe. I had slowed down and Shorty had started to speed up. I didn’t have to tell her to head on and run her own pace..she was doing that on her own leaving me to find a way past the Wall.

I mustered the energy to finish…I had come this far….quitting or giving up was not an option. I caught up to Shorty and we ran a bit together and then off she went. As I arrived at the turn around, a friend running the full marathon passed. We hugged for a minute and then I sent him on ahead for another 13.1 miles. I turned and headed towards the last mile. Now I was walking and running in equal parts and not very fast but I was still moving forward.

Shorty and I rounded the last corner and she took off. We were almost there…the finish. I ran strong the last .3 and was speeding up as I caught sight of the finish line. I crossed the finish line and got my medal from a wonderful young man who said, “Awesome job, tutu Lady!” and met Shorty for water and CHEESE!

We met up with Cheesy and Speedy only to find out that Cheesy did hit her PR! We had a yummy beer (I have to find out what they were serving because it was AWESOME!) and a brat and headed to the car…to head to the Brat Stop.

We devoured all things grilled and fried washing it all down with sudsy, delicious beer. You have not lived until you have eaten fried cheese curds at the Brat Stop! We bought some beer and cheese before starting the journey home. We laughed and told more stories and talked the whole way home. It was just what I needed today…what I needed all week.

I was surprised to arrive home to a clean house. My girls had spent the morning cleaning! YEA! A walk with the dogs and a hot shower made the morning complete. I still wonder about the woman at mile 3. I would love to thank her for empowering my run today. I would love to repay the favor and encourage her on her journey. She will be in my thoughts and prayers……What a good day….

Posted with Blogsy

Saturday I woke up and knew I needed a long run. I have a Half marathon coming up in a week and am seriously undertrained. I am so very unprepared…I have never been this ‘not ready’ EVER. I always have a plan and follow it…not always as closely as I would like but close enough to feel prepared. Not this time. I have had zero motivation. The weather has been cold and icky. The new puppy needs attention. Life is getting in my way all over the place. I can think of every excuse in the book and will pay for it soon.

So I decided not to waste a beautiful morning….but it was no easy task. I found excuse after excuse not to leave the house…laundry, puppy, dishes, puppy, change clothes, puppy, charge ipod, puppy…the list when on and on. Finally my son said, “Mom when are you leaving?” I knew it was time. I strapped on a water belt and my ‘new to me’ Garmin and headed out the door determined to run at least 5 miles. It was a perfect morning. The weather was great but I was nervous. Had I dressed properly? Did I remember Gu? Did I apply enough Glide? Every doubt crept in between the earbuds and into my brain.

I started slow and knew I was not going to get much faster….this was not a run about speed. It was about putting one foot in front of the other for 5 miles. I was undecided as to which way to run…do I run out to the path and follow that or do a loop in the neighborhood? Decisions….

I let my feet decide and soon I was headed on a loop I had not run since last summer winding through my neighborhood streets. As a moved forward my legs started to loosen up and so did my mind.

Soon it was time to turn towards home and head further out….I chose to continue on. The great thing about this loop is that I can head home anytime…but I didn’t.

The intoxicating smells of spring filled the air …the hyacinth, laundry, and BACON! The sun was rising higher in the sky and so were my spirits. I kept trudging along…I would love to say there was a spring in my step as well as the air…but that was not the case. I am old and under trained. I am slow. It is all ok…I am at peace with it all.

As a jogged past 2 ladies out for a walk I heard one of them say, “oh to be young again and able to run…” I was reminded that I am not THAT old and I can still run…no matter how slow.

I headed up the last block towards my house dog tired and ready to be done after having run 10 miles. It was not easy nor fast. This run was the run I had waited all winter for…spring.

This morning I was up at 3 courtesy of some hungry puppies. I tried to go back to sleep but found it impossible my mind was racing so rather than fight it I gave in. I got up and dressed and headed out the door for a run. The cold, dark morning air hit me smack in the face like a strong wake up call. I had decided to run alone and when I run alone in the dark I do not listen to music. The sound of the birds chirping was my music.

I ran until my head cleared a bit, my heart was reminded of why I love to run and the sun began to rise. The sense of being alone on a run but part of a larger tribe filled my soul.

I thought about all that had taken place in the last 24 hours. My good wishes and good luck posts to friends running Boston. My computer checks of finish times. My first knowledge of an explosion at the finish line. The frantic checks to see if friends were ok and all that followed. It brought me back to other, similar, events. Days that changed not only me but our country.

Last night after dinner the conversation turned to the events of the day. My 10 year old son asked, “Mom, are you still going to run the marathon this year?”

I hesitated, not out of fear, but uncertainty of how he would respond. I must have hesitated for a moment too long as he then said, “I think you should. And I want to go watch you….”
“Really? You think I should? You are not afraid?”

“Nope. Bad things happen everywhere. If we stop doing fun stuff then the bad guys win. Daddy doesn’t let the bad guys win, so why should we?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Some guy on TV but he is right. We can’t let the bad guys win.”

The subject changed as the Hawks game came on but I was left with a feeling of great pride. I have a wise son.

He got me to thinking. We can’t let the bad guys win.

I am a runner. I am a racer. I am part of a tribe of dedicated, caring, generous people like no other. Runners are a unique and special breed.

As runners we know the there is no “phoning it in”. We must do the work. Not every run is fun nor great. Lots of runs suck. But it is those hard, craptastic, “suck it up buttercup” runs that allow us to grow, develop and appreciate the great runs. We know that without the bad days, we could not enjoy the good days. We know that each run makes us stronger and ready for the next challenge. We know that each footfall and every mile lead us closer to the finish line and make us more appreciative of the the medals.

I will never qualify for Boston. It is not even a pipe dream for me. I am slower that a herd of turtles going uphill in a snowstorm. I am in awe of those that are fast enough to toe that blue and yellow line. I live vicariously though them. I relish in their triumphs. I hope to one day volunteer for that race and cheer those speed demons. To those that did finish…Wow! Impressive! To those that trained and did not get to cross that finish line…you are alive to run another race. That is a victory sweeter than any finish line or medal. The events in Boston will make us better, stronger runners and racers. We will all run with renewed purpose.

Running and racing may never be the same. As a race organizer I wonder how this will change our sport. As a coach of Girts on the Run I wonder if this will make parents more hesitant to allow girls to participate in this life changing program. As a spectator, I wonder how this will change how I watch racers and how people watch me. As a runner I wonder how this will change the races I run.

As I showered and dressed, I put on my trusty Girls on the Run shirt and first hard earned Chicago Marathon jacket. I will wear both proudly to honor those runners and spectators who were injured or lost their lives and as a sign that I am a member of a very special tribe. I know that I will spend the day answering questions from my students and others that know I run as to how I feel about the events in Boston. I will answer with my prayer of the day…Always remember, Never forget and Don’t let the Bad Guys win.
Forward is a pace. Peace.

Posted with Blogsy

• 

  I was angry, so I went for a run. And things got better.
  I was confused, so I went for a run. And things got better.
  I was exhausted, so I… went for a run. And things got better.
  I was lost, unsure, empty, afraid. Certain that whatever was left of my sanity had snapped, had come untethered and floated away, to a place so high and remote that I would never see it again, and that even if I did, I wouldn’t recognize it.
  So I went for a run. And things got better.
  I felt like things could not possibly get worse, so I went for a run. And things got better.
  (Another time, I felt like things could not get much better. I went for a run. Things got much better.)
  After enough miles, over enough runs and enough years, I realized: No matter what, no matter when, or where, or why, I can find my shoes and go for a run and things will get better. And that realization? Just knowing that? It made things better.

  – Mark Remy Runner’s World

The first race of the season is always daunting for me. I never know what to expect. I am always nervous. I never feel prepared enough. I feel out of practice and uncomfortable.

Today was no different. I felt all these things and more. I left my Garmin at home as I really had no expectation of time today. I was just looking forward to getting out and running the first race of the season.

I met up with one of my Sole sisters and we chatted as we waited for the start. Neither of us felt we had trained enough for this race so we both just said we would run for fun. We vowed to stay together unless one of us was having a great day and wanted to take off.

The race began and the nerves gave way to muscle memory. We almost were separated at the start as I made an error but my girl jumped a median so we could stay together. I felt foolish that I had made a beginner error but no matter….we motored on. I felt stiff and slow as we ran without chatting too much.

We got to mile one and she told me we needed to slow down as we were out MUCH to fast. I didn’t feel fast. I felt old and slow. But I chugged along. I was not going to slow her down. About the first aide stop, we took a water/walk break. I needed to regroup and so did she. We took off again with a fresh breath filling our lungs. Along the way we encouraged other runners and each other.

Over the bridge and into the sun, we were getting warm and tired. Another short break to catch our breath and we took off again.

Just before aide station 2 I needed to take off my top layer as I was sooo hot. We walked again for a little bit as I put myself together. Off we went again towards the aide station. There, like a beacon of hope, was our friend Tim taking pictures. We posed for a few, had some water and then headed towards the finish. I was feeling so tired and kept apologizing to her for slowing her down. She was my cheerleader reminding me of all the lessons I had taught her as we trained together each summer. As I heard my own words repeated back to me, they began to sink in.

We rounded the corner and headed up Michigan Avenue. Along this stretch, I was feeling a overwhelming sense of gratitude. I was grateful for so many things but at that moment, I was so grateful for friends, especially the one running beside me. She never gave up on me and didn’t not allow me to give up on myself.

We prepared ourselves for Mount Roosevelt and the finish. I wanted to walk on the hill so badly but I did not want to disappoint my friend. I slowed my pace but climbed that hill and then saw the finish. We wanted to cross the finish line holding hands but this was not to be. I knew she had gas left in the tank but I was fading. I told her to go and off she went. Watching her take off and finish before me brought tears to my eyes. She never left me and she could have. She didn’t let me take the easy way out. She matched me step for step and along the way we found what we had been missing….our mojo and a PR(for me!).

After a big hug, we walked to water looking for another friend of ours. Another big hug and some pictures and the morning was almost over for me.

I walked to my car alone looking out over the stunning skyline of the city thinking of how lucky I am. I am not only lucky to be able to run but to have friends like the ones that supported me today. I am so blessed.

So days we are the cheerleader and some days we need a cheerleader. Today was a good reminder of that and of all my many blessings. I am one lucky girl.

Posted with Blogsy