Birth of a Runner

- By Mark Turcotte

Reproduced with permission from the L-A Forecaster
Published August 27, 2008

I went in with one goal; to finish without the assistance of a taxi cab.

I'm a few days past my 38th birthday and up until covering the YMCA Fit Fest 5K back in June, I had never considered running - for any reason; other than maybe being chased by a bear, but what are the chances?

I was content to get my exercise walking behind a self-propelled lawn mower and playing with my nine and seven year old kids.

So there I was wandering around Festival Plaza in Auburn with my camera and notepad trying to get a handle on things. Who are these people and why do they choose to run when nothing is chasing them?

Two hours later, I was shopping for running shoes and seeking advice on how to get started.

They came by the hundreds; people of all shapes and sizes. Some looked like runners, with the tank tops, wispy nylon shorts and shoes that probably came with an owner's manual. Others, like they just saw something was going on, parked the car and decided to participate.

Then came the part that changed my outlook on the sport - the end. Everyone was smiling. Everyone. Even Stan Pyle, who finished behind winner Ethan Hemphill - by one second!

Forty minutes later they were still crossing the finish line; exhausted, but smiling. Turns out it's a byproduct of running; it makes you feel good.

Just ask Roland and Janet Bilodeau of Auburn. They've competed in every Triple Crown race, not to mention the Beach to Beacon 10K where Janice was among the 5,248 entries and Roland volunteered. They train every week and serve as an inspiration to anyone who's pinned a number to their shirt. I wouldn't attempt to keep up with them now, let alone when I reach their current age group of 70-plus.

Or Patricia Poulin, whose grandchildren Devyn Jackson, 8, and Corbin Jackson, 4, wait near the finish line to catch a glimpse of her, then run by her side for the balance of the race. "It's the best part," she says. "They help me get to the end."

Or Amy Hediger, a third-grade school teacher, who gladly tacked on a few extra minutes to her finishing time so she could assist a crying child that had lost sight of her father on the course.

Or top Bridge Run female finisher Lauren LaRoche, who donated her $50 winnings to the Emily Fletcher Memorial Foundation as quickly as it was handed to her.

It seems the desire to participate outweighs the desire to compete, tenfold.

That was confirmed at my first race, The Emily Flethcer Memorial 5K (Emily's Run).

I remember sitting at Ralph Flethcer's dining room table fighting back tears as he recalled his daughter's absolute unwillingness to let life pass her by and how much this event meant to preserving her memory.

I wasn't about to be a spectator at this race.

With about four miles of training on my running resume, I was entering Emily's Run.

It's, without a doubt, the toughest course on the Triple Crown schedule. I went in with one goal; to finish without the assistance of a taxi cab.

I managed to run a solid mile before taking multiple walking breaks to catch my breath. Regardless of my speed, or lack thereof, there were people at every corner, volunteers, area residents and fellow runners cheering me on. I had never met them before, but they seemed to have a genuine interest in assisting me to the finish line. I managed to find it 32 minutes and 23 seconds after I began the journey. I was sweating, out of breath and never felt better.

Next up was the L-A Trails Bridge Run. I trained a little more, the course was a bit friendlier and I was ready. Sure, I was passed by a man walking his yellow Labrador retriever and a woman pushing two babies in a stroller, but I managed to run the distance without stopping and finish at 28:45. The best part was finding out the lady with the kids and the man with the dog were also competing in the race.

Now, beyond my wildest expectations, I'm a runner. I try to log at least a few miles a week, scan the internet for upcoming races and look forward to being part of something that breeds smiles and camaraderie.

Oh, thought I'd share the best piece of advice I've received so far, thanks to Ralph Flethcer.

Start slow, then taper off.

Thanks, Ralph.

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