Running Through the Years (Part 2)
(This is part 2 of a 4-part story series covering fun, friends, and fashion over my 40 years of running.)
A blond ponytail flapped in the wind like a pony’s tail swatting a fly. This was my rear-view visual on a recent run.
The ponytail belonged to a runner, much faster and younger than me.
As the young runner charged into the distance, my mind played the Miley Cyrus song “Used To Be Young.”
“You tell me time has done changed me
That's fine, I've had a good run
I know I used to be crazy
That's 'causе I used to be young.”
Just moments before the blond runner passed me on the trail, I told my 56-year-old self, “Hey, I’m running pretty fast. This feels like a good pace.”
And then my daydream shattered with the reality of my shuffling pace vs. the speed of the young runner ahead of me.
I, too, used to be young.
I used to run faster.
But I am… still running, which is a check in the win box.
Part 1 of my Running Through the Years Series covers my (faster) teenage (younger) years. Link to the story: Running Through the Years (Part 1)
Part 2 of my running story spans the mid-80s through the late 90s….
I moved into Westmar dorms in the fall of 1985 and found a new running route in LeMars, Iowa. I was bundled up after a snowy run before winter break when this photo was taken.
My 1985 high school graduation came and went as I continued my nightly two-mile runs through Remsen, Iowa. Without the goal of high school track conditioning, my summer running instead focused on having tan and lean legs for my college entrance. By August, I walked onto Westmar College campus for my freshman orientation. I was rocking a Guess mini-skirt. Mission accomplished.
Although I embraced college life, I lived at home for the first few months of my freshman year. The commute from my hometown of Remsen to the Westmar College campus in LeMars, Iowa, was a short nine-mile drive. After returning home from classes, I continued running my Remsen route, longing for on-campus living.
I moved into the dorms once the first snow hit Iowa Highway 3, convincing my dad it was unsafe for me to commute any longer. A new two-mile route was mapped out, starting and stopping outside my college dormitory.
By the spring of 1986, I continued to enjoy living in the dorms. And although I still ran on occasion, I participated more in the campus carbs and beer. By spring, I had packed on the dreaded ‘freshman 15’. But I also noticed the Westmar track team gathering in my dorm lobby for a training run.
Among the swarm of runners, I spied my friend, Larry. Catching Larry's eye during their stretching gave me the courage to grab my running shoes and join them. I soon became a Westmar Track Team ‘walk-on.’ I loved the camaraderie of the practices and running with Larry every day. I felt invigorated in fighting off the extra cushion accumulated around my waist with my fail-safe running routine.
Our college was small, and so was our track team. My first track meet was an eye-opener. Two thin, athletic girls lapped me at least twice on the small indoor track. I cannot recall their faces, as I never saw them. My only view was their swishing blond ponytails racing ahead of me for another lapping.
After this less-than-stellar outing, I retired from the Westmar track team by not returning to another practice, ending my college athletic career abruptly. I also did not return my thick fleece-lined track warm-up. Feeling guilty but lacking the courage to return it, I donated it to Goodwill years later.
1986 Westmar Women’s Track Team
(1985-86 School Year)
Back Row: Coach Dave Hector, Melinda Oetken, Val Nuendorf, Kym Klemme, Asst Coach Steve Soukup.
Front Row: Renee Schlag, Sandy Wagner, Chevonne Colemen, Kris Fitch
Although my college track career was short-lived and a bust, two great benefits were gained from the experience. 1) Running became part of my routine again. I spent the summer after my freshman year running the streets of Remsen. In shape and reenergized, I returned to college the next fall. 2) I later received great advice from a track teammate, Renee, at the end of our college years together. I had just accepted a job in Omaha, Nebraska, and was worried about moving to a city where I knew no one.
“You should join the local running group. Every big city has a running club that organizes runs. You will meet a lot of people this way!”
In 1990, following Renee’s advice (long before the Internet or Google), I found Omaha Running Club in the Yellow Pages. From a landline phone, I left a message on their answering machine inquiring about membership. Over the next two years, I became a very active Omaha Running Club (ORC) member. I ran and volunteered at the many organized races and joined the Ladies of the Evening running group. By 1992, I was voted the club president.
Running and weekend races were big through the 90s. I signed up for every 5K I could. My training runs stayed at 2 miles, always running against the clock to beat my previous personal best. I ran for time, not for logged miles. I often placed in my age group with my fastest 5K finish in just over 21 minutes.
Race t-shirts were made out of 100% (heavy) cotton. Dry-fit was not an option. My race shirts were XL to fit the oversized popular look of that time. Socks were also of heavy cotton, but we did become aware of the value of a good running shoe. Race results were printed in the sports section of the Omaha World-Herald each Sunday. The goal was always to make the cut for the paper.
ORC races were well-attended, bringing in professional athletes and notoriety to the local athletes who were commonly atop the podium. I had the opportunity to help organize runs headlined by Billy Rodgers, Jim Ryun, and Lynn Jennings. I was assigned Lynn’s ORC representative while she was in town in 1997. Driving her from pasta feeds to packet pick-up, she told me her story of marrying the UPS man who made the many shoe deliveries to her mountain home where she trained.
Although Lynn and I were two completely different kinds of runners, we enjoyed that weekend together. By this time, I was the mother of two little boys. Zach and little Benny were strapped in their car seats while we drove around Omaha. Lynn’s running focus was on training for the Boston Marathon. My running focus was taking off the last of my pregnancy baby weight.
Just before taking Lynn to the airport, she asked that we have a photo taken with her holding Benny. Giving me her address, she later gave me an explanation.
“I have never held a baby before. I am going to send the picture to my mom. Otherwise, she will never believe it!”
My ORC participation slowed as Benny began walking and Zach started kindergarten. I would enter the boys in kids’ runs, and together we would volunteer at water stations. I still signed up for races when they worked into our family’s schedule. My Omaha Running Club friendships remained intact, and I was honored to be named a Lifetime Member of the club.
As a working mom, finding time to run became a challenge. My parents saw my dilemma and bought me a baby runner. It was a Mother's Day gift to me when Zach was a baby and one of the best gifts I ever received.
A baby runner was a new contraption at that time. It didn’t fold or fit into a trunk. But I didn’t know there could be anything better. I loved it, and Zach loved his seat as my ‘easy rider.’ My only regret is not attaching an odometer. I can't even guess the number of miles logged by the time it was retired, fourteen years and three kids later.
Each kid showed their individual personality as my sidekick in the runner. Zach was always the perfect companion; rarely fussing, just enjoying the ride. Benny was a different passenger. He was a wild man and a constant entertainer. A chubby baby with a big smile, he caught the attention of all we met.
As he became a toddler, he almost always brought food with him. My favorite memories are of a sticky-faced Ben relaxing in the runner while sucking on a popsicle. Once, he brought cake on a plate that he ate with a plastic fork. As I pushed him up a hill, people were busting a gut seeing this smiley guy savoring his sweets while his mom labored behind him.
I would squeeze in races around my family's busy schedule. I became accustomed to my social running mainly restricted to toddler interactions in the baby runner.
My prayers were answered on a chance run-in with an old friend at the gym. Angy ran with a small group of moms in her neighborhood. They ran in wee hours of the morning before the kids or husbands were awake. Did I want to join them?
I eagerly accepted the invitation. And so began over 20 years of early morning runs with Angy and Kristi. We were three women from small-town Iowa, now raising kids in West Omaha. Our conversations centered around potty training, childbearing, terrible twos, spouses, work, and life. Eventually, the run was merely a formality. It was the friendship and conversation that got me out of bed at 5:15 a.m.
I closed out the 1990s with a running routine that included 5-mile runs every Tuesday and Thursday (5:30 a.m. meet time) and a long run on Saturdays (7 miles at 7 a.m.). This routine continued until I moved from Omaha in 2019, with our group growing in number over the years and then eventually returning to the small group from which we started.
(Foreshadow: Back in Omaha last week (fall of 2023), I ran with Angy and Kristi. Just the three of us, like our first runs together in 1998. The gang was definitely back together, but with conversations now around adult children and grandchildren.)
(Part 3 of Running Through the Years is my next story...midlife and the running group)
