Mission Bay, New Zealand The events of this year amazed me by their fullness, complexity, and heart-exploding love. To begin is to be grateful, first and foremost, for my family and their support of me through my running travails and my quest for a real home after too many moves in too few years. We …
Running is a fickle mistress. These past two months confirm the volatility of running. They also reveal that my training has been less than it should have been. This is what’s really happening with running and me. I was so excited to run the Portland Half Marathon, my first in almost six years, in October; …
Early mornings, late evenings: running in the dark has permeated my running life. As a neophyte in the late 1970s, I ran before dawn (and work) at the local high school track in a small town in northern California. My dog was my companion, barking at any strange smell or movement, pulling at his leash. …
My father served in the Pacific Theatre aboard a destroyer during WWII. After the war, he became a coach, with the majority of his career spent as Director of Athletics, basketball, tennis, and sometimes swimming coach at Whitman College. Like so many of his generation and the veterans of other wars and conflicts, he spoke …
We drove from Boulder to Indian Peaks Wilderness area’s Brainard Lake; we intended to hike for a few hours then return on the Peak to Peak Highway to view the typically stunningly golden quaking aspen trees. Except: the entrance leading to the Lake was closed for the winter; there was snow on the ground, covering …
I last ran a half marathon in February 2010 (F (55-59); third place; net time: 1:50:03) in Austin, Texas. Shortly thereafter, I tore my left hamstring at the attachment point. Running came to an abrupt halt. I’ve written about my more than five-year attempt to run with the concomitant frustrations, medical diagnoses, and tears. My …
Sr. Marion Irvine with Dominican Sisters. Photo courtesy of Orbis. When you think of the Olympic Trials, you probably don’t picture a fifty-something nun lining up on the starting line, yet in the first U.S. Women’s Olympic Marathon Trials in 1984, there was Sister Marion Irvine anxiously awaiting the gun in the crowd with Joan …
I’d waited with anticipation to experience my first running retreat, having written about it previously in the abstract. Like summer camp as a child, I was slightly nervous during the days leading up to the actual weekend of the Women’s Run, Yoga and Wine retreat. Could I keep up with the other runners? What about yoga, …
I took on the task of self-publishing my little memoir, wanting to share my story but realizing it wasn’t going to be a blockbuster, riveting, must-buy book for the general public. Memoirs are very personal, sometimes controversial, always revealing. Having the nerve to write about and share a difficult, yet joyous, time in my life …
August 5: On this day in 1916, my father was born. On this day in 2014, my mother died. They were married for sixty years, the two so much better together than alone. They found such happiness in this tiny corner of southeastern Washington with the Blue Mountains in the near distance. We were relieved …