JW Run Blog 11: GNRC Joy

GNRC Joy

Running with my fellow GNRC members brought me to levels that I would not have achieved on my own. I can say that with certainty. When I’m on a track, in particular, running with my friends, their presence pulls me along. And when I’m feeling strong, I push them--not by saying anything, but just by running purposefully. When I sense that they are running strong, they help make me strong. The energy flows. It is a lower-brain-stem, foundational connection between human animals. We are a pack. 

The five marathons that make up this part of the story are all about the pack. All of these races were “destination races” for the club. We’d pick a race, put it on the calendar, train together, and race together. I didn’t set any speed records at any of these marathons. My times were respectable, but I did not put in the training to run excellent times. But for these races, the point was to run a respectable race and have a great time doing it. And for sure that happened. 

Mohawk Hudson Marathon 2015

Mohawk Hudson 2015 was my third run on a course I had grown to love. But what do I remember about that race? I remember the pasta dinner at the old-time Italian place down the street from the hotel. There must have been 25 of us packed around the table. Terry ordered something heavy with butter and I thought, “You’re going to regret that.” And then there’s the picture of us at the start of the race. It’s my favorite GNRC picture. It sums up in an image the joy of GNRC. That’s me in my pre-race garbage bag with a cutout for the head but not arms. John is next to me. We ran to mile 18 together. That’s Lisa in the front. She wasn’t in the first shot the camera operator took, but dove in for the next one and made the picture a party.

Chicago Marathon 2016

Chicago 2016 was a return to the scene of the scorching hot marathon of 2007. This time, the weather was excellent and I got the chance to enjoy the course and my home city. I flat-out loved it. I was slow, but who cares? I ran the whole thing and I loved being there with my friends.

Philadelphia Marathon 2017

Philadelphia 2017 brings back such warm memories of my teammates. I picture us in the little Italian restaurant the night before, collectively willing each other to finish strong. I ask everyone at the table to hold the hand of the person next to them. I squeeze the hands I am holding and hold them up; others follow suit. I ask them to feel that support and to let it carry them. It was a benediction of sorts, something that as President of the club I felt empowered to deliver. I picture us all huddled in a crowded tent at the start, near the famous Philly art museum (Rocky steps and all). It’s dark outside, and it’s windy and raining. We’re sitting on pavement, trying to stay warm. But then the rain stops, the sun is up, and the starting gun goes off. The snapshots of the course in my mind are clear and distinct--downtown, the zoo, Drexel, the return to the art museum, the Schuylkill River, Manayunk. I particularly like the part where we run along the river toward Manayunk while the fast runners zip by on the other side of the road. If that doesn’t inspire, what will? I hit mile 22 or so and discover that I’m not going to fade, so I push harder and am grateful to be able to do so. We finish, we tell our stories, we eat, we drink, we eat more. Wonderful stuff. 

Loco Marathon 2018

Loco Marathon 2018 is our biggest draw as a club. The full marathon and the half marathon leave at the same time from the same location. The full marathon is two loops. Finishing the first loop and starting the course a second time is a mental struggle, but it passes, and I keep running. The weather is great, the course is kind, and I get to mile 22 and know I will not bonk. Again, I push hard at the end. The joy of not bonking is hard to explain. I have run for 3 hours only to find that my body will not be abandoning me that day. And I am happy, and I push harder. At the end, I cannot hold a coherent thought and my legs are shooting with little cramps. Kat finds me, sits me down, and makes sure that I’m going to be okay. After the race, we go to a brewery and drink and drink and eat fries. I think Maria drove home. Thank you, Maria.

My Race is Cancelled Marathon 2020

In 2020, COVID puts races on hold but GNRC finds a way. Our tiny race, dubbed “My Race is Cancelled,” gives us something to train for. I catch COVID at the beginning of July, but thankfully do not get seriously ill or pass it along to others. I get back on the roads as soon as I can, with an eye toward our little race in October. We start at our usual spot--St. Tim’s--and do a giant loop that takes us to Needham and back. Robie and I run almost the whole way together. I am grateful for her company, especially as she is having a tough time finding motivation, having just finished Virtual Boston a few weeks earlier. I am able to run the whole thing, again with a grateful heart for the last few miles, realizing my body will hold up. Sharon and my friends are there at the finish. We each get a random medal for finishing. Mine is a handsome medal from a bike race.

All of these races are full of GNRC joy. And they are celebrations of finishing strong. I am healthy, I am able to race, I am blessed in so many ways.