Shari and I kicked in the after-burners for a final bit of speed work and cruised into the parking lot.  Elizabeth and Kathy had arrived back at the cars a few minutes prior and joined Beth in stretching.  Our other Beth, “Beth of the Infinite Legs”, couldn’t stay for coffee and had just left with her neighbor.

As we stood around the parking lot exuding our stink on to each other, Sarah voiced thoughts that have percolated in my brain many times over the seasons.  She summed it up so well.  “It is so amazing to be a part of this group, where there are so many levels of ability and no one gets left behind.  Any one of us could lead the pack.”

Shari finished the sentiment – “It just depends on the day, that’s all.  What’s really amazing is there’s no ego.”

There were murmurs of agreement.  So many different ability levels, people who have raced for years, new runners, post-baby runners, new racers… we have a good mix.

I thought about this little exchange all weekend; in fact, it came to define the run for me.  The women in the group ARE strong.  It’s an absolute privilege to run with them.  Sarah has been with the group a few times, as her weekends are full and she’s not always around.  Shari travels so much that it’s always a treat to run with her when she’s in town.  Siga started running with us a few months ago after a several year hiatus.  Juli has ten years worth of racing under her belt, including Ironman.  Kathy is the glue that binds us together, suggesting runs even when she’s going to be out of town.  Elizabeth is stronger than she knows and has an uncanny knack for bringing humor and a fresh perspective every week.  Jacqueline keeps us on our toes, calling back to her to “watch out for the rock” or “pick up your feet, Jacq!”  She sports more band-aids than any adult I know.  Susan is a veritable workhorse, and can power up a hill like nobody’s business.  Heidi hasn’t been with us for a few weeks because she’s training for her next half-Ironman.  Her husband introduced himself to the group at a coffee shop one morning, and asked if she could come along.  She was new to the area and didn’t know any runners yet.

And yet, with all that strength and absolute stamina, there is no ego.  We don’t race each other on Saturdays and there’s no “pecking order”.  I’ve run and talked with everyone over the months, and run every position in the group.  Sometimes people are intimidated to run with us; I know I was when I first started.  But here’s the thing; no one gets left behind and it’s because no one is here to prove themselves.  We’re all out there running because we want to be together and there’s coffee afterward, which means more time for talking.

I look forward to these runs all week long.  If I don’t run on Saturday my entire weekend feels wonky.  The exercise is great, but there’s more; Saturday mornings are about absolute acceptance and non-judgment.  I can show up to a run and be mostly silent, stewing in my own thoughts.  I can be hyper and strong, or slow and steady.  I could be recovering from an injury or illness (like last week) and hear someone say “Hey, I’m so glad you’re back, are you feeling better?  I really missed you!”  I could have the world’s worst stink to me and still have a running partner.  Each of us carries emotional pieces of the other, snippets that have been shared over the miles and weeks and seasons we’ve been together.  Saturday morning is bonding, perspiration, a total lack of masking.

I love each and every woman that I run with.  I could write an entry about all of them, about the amazing character, strength, and utter beauty each of them carries.  I absolutely draw strength from the group, from the energy that the women weave when they’re together.  I am honored to be a part of this group that meets at 7 AM on a different trail each week, and I am thrilled to know that other women in the group are just as awed by the magic we create when we’re together.  So, to all you amazing women I run with; thank you.

It’s twenty degrees in the pre-dawn light. I braid my hair and don my Smart Wool hat and gloves, along with two shirt layers and my pink Go-Lite jacket. The running tights aren’t lined, which is a sad thing for my legs.
I lost count of how many people are supposed to be running today. The running list has added a few people recently and it seems old members who haven’t run in months or even years are coming out of the woodwork.
The morning is cold, very cold. Twelve of us are in the parking lot, ready to go. As Susan, Bernadette and I set out in the front of the pack, I see Greta waiting for us at the end of the shoot that opens onto Valmont Road. She’s already run four miles just to get here, and will join the group for her return home again.
The past few weeks have seen a decline in my running, swimming, and cycling. I’m in the midst of a job search and trying to put my finger on exactly what I want to do. Connor started morning kindergarten this year and goes to K-Care two days a week. Therefore, I have two full days to myself (8:30-3:00), and three half days. I need a part-time job but have flirted with the idea of a full forty hours per week. Not that I really want to work that much, but health insurance and retirement benefits count for a lot, especially since my husband is self-employed and we pay through the nose for our health care and retirement. If I got a full-time job though, I would have to find care for Connor when he’s not in school and I’m not around to watch him. He’s been having a hard time lately and has been really sensitive about changes in routines. All this has compounded in my head and heart to create feeling of depression and anxiety. I need this run for so many reasons.
I’m noticing that the more stressed I get, the slower I run. It’s harder for me to find the motivation for movement; when I do manage a few miles in the morning, my muscles are tight and sore. I don’t feel refreshed after a run lately and in fact, I feel depleted. It was hard for me to get up this morning. I wonder if I’ll feel depleted or refreshed after this morning’s eight miler. Here’s hoping it’s the latter.
I steel myself for the bitter cold in the valley. It’s so chilly here, about ten degrees colder than the rest of the run. There’s a mid-sized creek that contributes to the moisture. Now that the foliage has left the branches it’s easy to see the source of my discomfort.
The gloves are no match for the bitter cold. I open and shut my fingers periodically to remind myself they are attached to my hands. The motion does nothing to warm my extremities and I’m resigned to the fact that it’s going to take a good two miles before I’m warm. The trail is a steady uphill from the starting point, so early on my heart rate is elevated and blood is trying to slosh into the cold points of my body.
As we come around a curve Greta and I see a beautiful buck and his harem standing stock still to our right. Karley and Sam are chatting amiably behind us; to point them out I start gesturing with my arm, pointing straight at them and commenting. After a slight delay they pick up the cues and notice the regal animals. The buck is a six-pointer and elegant in his stance. After the group has passed the deer take their exit and easily bound over the six foot fence. The buck is the last to make the crossing, preferring instead to watch for danger from the two legged females making their way up the hill.
At the top of the hill I stop to take off a layer and stretch my right glut. We’re going to wind around the hill and take a breather before heading back to the trailhead. As Susan and Karley point out, the route adds on five minutes at the most. The easy run and the scenery are a nice way to bring the heart rate back to a moderate zone before kicking it in for the last of the hills.
Our group is stretched out over a mile. The ones in front are easily holding their positions, and the ones in back are enjoying not being rushed. That’s the beauty of a large group like this; there can be so many different levels of fitness and speed, and no one feels bad about where they’re at. Susan, Bernadette and I are usually in the front, though we’ve also held space in the back from time to time. Jaime is coming back from having her third baby; years ago, she was at the front of the group and is now easily pacing at the back. The point is that she’s here, running outside in the early dawn light, enjoying the inherent abilities of her body and getting some socialization in on the side.

Back in the parking lot I stretch my hamstrings and blissfully enjoy my endorphins. They haven’t managed to create the “runner’s high” that I love so much, but I do enjoy the effort they’ve made in allowing my brain some semblance of relaxation. Now, on to coffee and the rest of the day.