THE CAW
the crow athletics wire
I used to be in what some of us in the Navy used to call the "three mile a year club." Twice a year, we had to run our PT test, which included a 1.5 mile run, and that was the only running done. I was never in the best of shape while growing up or for my first 24 years in the service.
The pandemic has influenced activity behaviors worldwide. It was just a year ago that Vermont went into lockdown, requiring everyone to don facemasks, carry hand sanitizer, and learn the six foot rule. Restrictions became tighter, and my husband and I both started working from home. Our dining room became a makeshift office, and exercising with anyone from outside your household was forbidden. This was an issue as George is a biker whose behaviors when running often reflect those of a child. Are we there yet? How much further? This is so boring, did you bring snacks? I knew I could train on my own for races; that wasn't an issue, but then races got canceled, and my plans got put into a holding pattern.
My story, I'd like to think, is a lot different from most athletes. I was never an athletic type person growing up. I never played organized sports; like most kids of the '70s, I rode my bike for endless summer hours, swam, hung out at the playground, and played baseball, all while barefoot. Long story short, I moved to Northern Maine in my late 20's. I started a family and became a bleacher mom. Sitting was my pastime for over 20 years, and I was content with this role.
I am a Runner.
My name is Emily Jane Higgins McDevitt, I am 56 years old, and I am a runner. I am also many other things. I have also been many other things. But through it all, all six decades of which I have had the pleasure of living on this planet, I have been, and I am, a runner.
The statement "I am a runner" can be interpreted in so many ways and means a little something different, unique, and special to each individual who claims, "I am a runner." As well, and I will elaborate, it can also mean many different things, at any given moment, to the same individual.
I’m going to preface this by saying that performance, in a classical sense, is not everyone’s goal. That’s perfectly fine. Running is infinitely more than just how fast you can run and what your best finishes are. Those who run for the love of it are the foundation of the sport, and those who are chasing performance are supported by this foundation. Both groups stand to have a better experience in the sport by learning from one another. This being said, I think I can provide some insight as to what makes the pros so good: the careful balancing act that is training and recovery.
I like to run. I am not the best and am not the worst either. Through some years of running a bit (unsystematically) and playing a bit of lower league soccer (football), I kind of coincidently got in fairly good shape. My natural response was to try to run a marathon. I started way too fast, did not eat properly, and because of that, I ran a lot slower than I had the potential to. I had never been running over 20K before, but I just wanted to try. Even though the marathon was extremely hard, it was extremely good learning. The next time I tried a marathon, I was better prepared, and naturally, I ran a little faster. If I did as most people would, waiting until I was well prepared, which may have been a few years, I wouldn’t have had that amazing experience of failing. I believe that failing is a wonderful thing that makes us grow as runners and as humans as well.
I never really liked running when I was younger. I had always played sports but never just ran as a sport until high school. In my sophomore year, I ran cross country. I only did it for two reasons, one was to get in shape for hockey, which was my true love, and the other was because there were a lot of cute girls who ran cross country! I only ran that one year but did make the varsity team, so I think I had some natural ability. But like most people, after high school, things happen, and you drift away from friends and things. Work and life can consume you.
During the winter months, running can be quite challenging, but it can also be a useful tool to keep ourselves connected to the outdoors. In this blog entry, Jarly shares tips on how to get the most out of winter running by seeking the sun, dressing properly, and using discomfort as a learning tool.
Suddenly, there was an idea in my brain, “You should run from sun-up to sun-down.” This idea was followed by a plea, “Please do this on the shortest day of the year.” Weeks later, at sunrise, a few masked friends and I clicked our watches and started running a slush-covered 5K loop around Lake Quannapowitt in Wakefield, Massachusetts, with nothing but daylight ahead of us.
As I write this, I am sidelined with another injury. Not as bad as previous ones, but serious enough that it has been over a month since I have had a good outdoor run, and at least another month until I am back out there again.
I’m a proud (and founding) member of the Clyde Army. That’s my fun-er nickname for an already “fun” category of male runners who weigh in at over 200 pounds: Clydesdales. I’ve never NOT been in the Clyde Army, at least not in my memory. I ran cross-country back in high school. It’s possible I was just under the official marker back then, but not by much. Compared to the other rail-thin teenage boys, I stood out as one of the thicker members of the field.
