I became addicted to running, as a Penguin, in midlife.  I first trained to run 13.1 miles a decade ago.  Since then, I have run at least one half marathon per year, sometimes two or three.   Training begins in late winter, as I build from 60-minute runs to 90, 120, 150, 180.  When I reach three hours, I am ready.

Why has this strange practice become a rite of spring for me?  I love having a goal.  I love the sense of being alive.  I love moving smoothly and quietly through the morning, seeing and feeling the seasons change.  Snow melts and puddles form, leaves turn green, and a sequence of flowers bloom along the trail.  I love comparing victories and injuries, sharing support and advice with running buddies.  Most of all, I love the fact that, in my 60's, both body and spirit are willing to go the distance. 

The Missoula Marathon and Half will take place tomorrow.  I have volunteered to help at the finish line.  I look forward to greeting my buddies.  We have trained together weekly since March.  I look forward to sharing their victories and celebrating the obstacles they have overcome.

As for me, I registered for the Grizzly Half in Choteau a few weeks from now.  I enjoy moving around, sampling different runs in different places:  Moab, Provo, Helena,  Williamsburg, Leesburg,  Anchorage, Deadwood, Lolo Pass, Seeley Lake.  And yes, the inaugural Missoula race three years back. 

 

Each event has its own character.  My next race advertises itself in modest terms, inviting us to Run wit da Griz:  "Choteau's Grizzly Marathon is pure old-fashioned marathon.  No hoopla - no bands, no crowds, no fuss.  It is your chance to test your mettle in a beautiful setting.  Sure there might be gravel and hills but you have trained hard, you're tough!"

The Griz sounds like a good place for a Penguin, running her own race, dwarfed by the Big Sky and the Rocky Mountain Front.