Showing posts from March, 2015

HAT Run-Boogie Man Be Gone

I remember running with Rog at Bond Lake.We had hit the hills for the gazillionth time, and I wanted a break.I could see the trails and suggested we move our torture session to some switchbacks.Our conversation went something like this:
R:You’ll love it.But, I’ll only take you if you promise me you won’t run there by yourself. E:Rog, I know what I look like.I can take care of myself.I’ll be fine. R:It won’t matter.Just promise me E:Do YOU run there by yourself? R:Yes, but that’s different
Such is the double standard for men and women runners.Men simply don’t have to think about some of the things that women do when they spend hours and hours alone, in remote areas.Although I’m sure personal safety crosses their mind, for me, as a woman, I can never let the threat of the Boogie Man wander far from the forefront of my thoughts.
I never forget that the bars in Erie County close at 4 am.Drunks don’t care. I’ve had cars follow me closely and slowly.Too slowly. Lewd catcalls…too many Men w…

Thank you, Legs

When I finally got to the starting line of the Rock and Roll Marathon in Washington DC, I reached down and rubbed my thighs, and thought, ‘Okay legs….you know what to do…”
My legs.They aren’t pretty.I simply don’t think of them in those terms.They are hard…bruised…scarred…strong.  It is rare for me to have more than six toenails at any given time.  My own husband once remarked, that they are so muscular,I look like a transvestite when I wear a skirt. But, oh the places those gams have taken me.
I get up early, really earl, to run.It’s my legs that get me out of bed, against all protests from my mind.I talk to them before I close my eyes at night, “ok girls, tomorrow it’s a long one---hills”, and when my eyes open, they are ready,mechanically taking me out the door.
On training runs, they run on auto-pilot.They free my mind to wander…appreciate my surroundings…figure things out…empty.I dial in a pace, and they respond.Left.Right.Repeat.Relentless forward progress.They do as I ask. I r…

Starting Lines---Hashahawa 50k

If you’ve run with me, you’ll know that I don’t like starting lines.I’ve learned to handle tapers, gear packing, and pre-race nutrition, but starting lines still give me apprehension.If it’s a 100-mile race, that apprehension starts the night before.I become introverted, pensive…okay, I’m a train wreck.
I’d like to say that once the race starts, that all is good, and off I go.Again, my friends know to give me my space at the start.I’ve learned not to implement my race plan until mile 4.That’s when I come back to “me”, and finally get myself in my groove.
I’ve noticed a certain pre-race energy.There is almost always 20-30 minutes before a race, which you are standing around, just waiting to do your thing.All racers are different, but many approach the start in similar manners.Some size-up competitors, subtly (or not so) asking about previous race times.Some recite their race resumes, like it will bolster their performance.Some make excuses to any one who will listen about how unprepar…