The first was a girl I saw when I got out of my ride's car. I was not even to the race and already someone was showing far more dedication than I. She was wearing a tank top, booty shorts, and a pair of gloves (it happened to be 40 degrees at the time) , sprinting back and forth across the street as she made her way to the starting line. And I do mean that literately. She was not going any further than the 5k elite start where she joined a small group of similarly dedicated individuals who were all sprinting about to loosen up before they would race one another to the end a speedy fifteen minutes away (longer, though no less further a distance for the rest of us mere mortals).
My next example of dedication came in my own corral. A group of five friends stood together for warmth. All except one. She was bouncing around like Christmas had come early and dishing out high-fives to anyone looking her way. She had finally gotten her friends to join her in her favorite thing ever and it was going to be awesome! While her friends were not as sure of the run as she was they had showed up anyway. From what I gathered it had taken her months to finally convince them to all race together. I was thoroughly impressed, knowing the art of bringing your non-runner friends to a race was about as simple and painless as having teeth pulled. Where I was unsuccessful she had finally become victorious. I understood her glee, though only in theory and hoped to one day be in her shoes.
I had hardly run a mile in when I noticed another group of inspiring and clearly dedicated individuals. The seniors. While their running may have turned to more of a shuffle theses days the UW Alumni were out in full force. I was in awe or their strength. Knowing how hard it is to manage with a young body I could only imagine what those hills must have felt like to knees that were old enough to have landed on the beaches of Normandy. I know that running, and exercise in general, is supposed to slow down the aging process and promote brain action than one might otherwise experience. I also know, however, that knees are fragile (yes, mine is still all taped up on the daily) and I am constantly trying to take it easy so that I might still be able to walk when I'm as old as some of them. You read about people who begin working out, or even racing after retirement, some well into the triple digits and it inspires you. You hope your name might one day be listed among theirs but then you sit there and realize how much damage you have caused your body thus far and wonder if you'll even live that long. Seeing people who looked as old as my grandparents out there keeping up with much generations is a testament to the body's strength and the will power, not to mention the determination they experience each and every day.
What might have been most inspiring of all was the stroller division. Those new mamas were out in droves and kicking butt. On a particularly monstrous hill everyone had slowed down, it was exhausting. It was over a mile long, and it was winding all over the place. That was when I saw her. The man in front of me stopped for a walk break and as I slowly moved past him a true wonder woman blasted past me as she pushed her stroller up the hill. I am convinced my jaw dropped to the floor. She had a newborn and was beating all of us up this hill. I wasn't pushing anything but myself and she had another human being she was toting along with her. I kicked it into high gear just to see how fast she was going. But I couldn't keep pace with her for more than a few moments before the path narrowed and she shot the gap, gaining several yards on me I was unable to make up at the top of that hill. If she can do it, I can't imagine what's stopping the rest of us from running our best possible times.
The final group of dedicated does not include any runners, but rather, the people who arrived early to help set up, the ones who stood in the cold wearing neon vests and cheered on runners, the ones who offered high fives, and stood as human trail markers to make sure no one strayed off course. In my years of racing I have found that if you smile at these people they will make a special effort to cheer for you, smiling back at the one among thousands who acknowledged their presence. Yesterday I even saw a couple guys I was friends with back in high school standing at one of the turns and I cheered for them, yelling out their names as I passed by. They cracked up and waved, cheering my name back as I moved away from them, down the hill. It is thanks to the help of these people who donate their time that races are even possible. This is a group who does not get medals or new shirts, no bragging rights or prizes. And long after you've run through the finish and gone home they are still there, cleaning up after you and your fantastic, truly memorable race. They may not be out there training in all weathers, building up endurance, or sweating it out in the early mornings but they are truly dedicated to the races in a way most runners take for granted.
At the beginning of the race I had been afraid of how completely un-dedicated I had felt about my training lately. By the end of the race I had found a renewal in my love of the sport and a desire to train harder, better, and more often, thanks, in no small part to these special groups of participants I witnessed during the race.
Shirt: Avia
Shorts: Lululemon
Shoes: Nike Flex TR
Watch: Garmin
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