Running toward redemption

Following up from my last post:



My first pair of kicks looked like this -- they're Saucony Jazz.

I revisited the scene, UB, including a warm-up run around the upper, interior perimeter of Alumni Arena. The lighting took me back those 20 years, where I had laced up my first pair of running shoes, trying to reverse that 30-pound weight gain I told you about! (Does anyone else have a strong “lighting memory”? It’s almost as strong as olfactory recall for me … you know, when particular aromas take you back to times of your youth.)

I really appreciated the cheering sections along the course. Patches of students and volunteers waved handmade signs (e.g., “Run, Run, Run” and “You Got This”), clapped, called out, chanted and even sang to strangers like me who huffed and puffed our way to the finish line. (Note for next year’s Strawberry Race: Recruit cheer-ers and strategically station them at half-mile intervals. Maybe dub them the BE’S — Barnabas Encouragement Squad, in honor of the renowned biblical encourager.)

Barnabas: "Son of Encouragement"

I took a bit of advice I had gleaned from Runner’s World recently and I smiled, thanked and even high-fived many of the volunteers throughout the race. It made the experience more enjoyable, and I think it might have helped me finish faster.

I didn’t finish as fast as I’d hoped to. The first mile took almost 11 minutes. I think it was because of all the people around me, sort of boxing me in. Plus, I’m not a very experienced racer — not currently, anyway. Nevertheless, I made up some time in the second and third miles (passed quite a few other runners in the third) and finished around 30:20-something (will find out chip time later today on the “Score This” website). In future large events, I think I’ll start closer to the front of the pack so I don’t get stuck behind slower-paced runners in the beginning. I also think it’s advantageous to study the course ahead of time — something I didn’t do — so you know when to go all-out in the end. In this race, I wasn’t sure where the finish was, and I held back longer than I could have, otherwise.

I finished 18^th out of 63 women ages 35-39. My dad, who also ran this race, finished second in his age group — woohoo!

I have no pictures from the event, but I was happy to take a picture for a pair of friends who asked me to, just after the race.

Parking lot reunion: No accident

Also after the race: I saw one of my few friends from that awful year at UB. Incredible, isn’t it? Out of 1,320 runners, Dad and I “happened” to be walking out to the truck to leave when I spotted Joe, just a few yards ahead of us — and recognized him, after 20 years. I remember Joe as somebody who noticed; someone who said something; one of the presciently pushy souls who insinuated that maybe all wasn’t right with my world; and who suggested that I didn’t have to live under the thumb of someone else’s will. Joe showed the kind of concern and courage I think it takes to provide a way out. He was one of the first people that year to give me a glimpse of hope and a hint of help, and I am forever grateful.