My first race volunteering experience

Running of the Bulls 8k

The Boston Marathon bombings hit me hard.  I think most semi-serious runners feel the same way I do and some of this will be rehashing what others have said before me... But it felt like we as runners were being attacked as a community.  Every semi-serious runner felt some remorse for what happened not just for the loss of life, but because for a lot of us "squeakers" (Runner's World term, haha), Boston's a stretch goal.  It's the gold standard to aspire towards, the race that some people train all their lives to run.

Every runner, even the non-semi-serious, knows that spectators are the backbone of the racing community.  As someone else said, if we didn't have people cheering us on, it would just be a community of crazies running around in the streets.  Spectators are an affirmation of inspiration, motivation, and confidence; they are the assurance that you can achieve your goals.  They are that burst of adrenaline that you need to kick it up at the end of the race, when you're exhausted and don't want to run anymore.  They're the smiles and laughs when you read their clever and sometimes cliched signs.  Thinking about how those sick bastards murdered innocent spectators makes my heart hurt and it still brings tears to my eyes.  If they only knew what kind of symbolic message they were sending by attacking this support system, then they might be human enough to fathom how despicably heinous their actions were. 

Personally, Boston is a race I've been coveting for the last 6 years, but have been too daunted by the psychological mar from my first marathon to attempt again.  I used to live there and I know a lot of people and loved ones who still do.  Like many media-saturated Americans that week, I followed the nail biting minutia produced by the media outlets to learn more about what was going on.  Except, I am so intimately familiar with the geography that watching it progress the way that it did and waiting for it to conclude had me on edge for the entirety of those frightful days.

I bring this up because I think a lot of people were jarred by the event, but were also inspired by the counteracting goodness of the Boston and running community.  There were so many amazing displays of humanity and kindness that somehow managed to overcome the evil. I know the running community is planning to show the world that no act of evil can bring us down.  We'll be back in 2014 and in large numbers.  While I think Boston 2014 currently remains a stretch for me, I've been thinking about ways to give back to the community I love and the sport that has stayed with me for 15 (almost 16, yikes!) years.

It led me to seek a volunteer opportunity - my first one in running.  So I signed up for Bull City Running Company's Running of the Bulls 8k in Durham.  It wasn't all good, though.  I received the email that yay! I would be a volunteer, but that my duty was to block race traffic from spilling into the local farmers' market.  Oh, and I had to be in Durham by 6 am for this.  It seemed to be a trivial, thankless job requiring me to drive for 30 min and rise at 5 am to be there on time.  I guess I did it to myself though - I said I was flexible to volunteer at any time on Saturday morning and that I could work any position that was needed - why did I do that??? were my thoughts this morning.  Given the hectic teaching schedule I've been leading this past month and my daily state of sleep deprivation, I really hated myself for this.  I know, I was being a selfish mental baby.

When I arrived, saw the starting line being set up and others who came out here to help, my heart softened.  Trivial work or not, recognition or none (seriously - I don't think the race director knew or cared who we were, she was just trying to get everything together), I was glad to help.  In the end, it was a rewarding experience.  After the race began, my 2nd volunteer duty was to signal the runners into the stadium and let them know there was one final lap around the baseball field to go!  THAT WAS AMAZING.  I was only asked to give directions with my hands, but I was one of the last volunteers that each runner and participant saw before they finished.  So I cheered them on.  Some of them gave me a tired smile or picked up their pace, and that was the best thanks I could receive.

Side note: the Oiselle NC team participated in this race, so I got to meet some of them!  I recognized Ellen when I was working on my first race duty, so when I saw her running into the home stretch, I said, "Yeah! Go, Ellen!" and was positive she was weirded out that some random girl knew her name.  Post-race, I approached her and let her know it was indeed me and reminded her that we met when she sold me my first pair of rogas, haha.  She said she appreciated it and remembered me and asked me how I enjoyed one of the shirts I ended up asking her advice on.  It was nice to see a friendly, familiar face! 

Still thinking of you.