Non-Runners Don’t Get It…But That’s Important To Remember.

Most runners will have read by now the recent opinion piece in the Wall Street Journal by Chad Stafko entitled, “OK, You’re a Runner. Get Over It.” The tagline of his article states the thesis of his piece: “Running a marathon is hard enough without patting yourself on the back every step of the way.” This article has been passed around the country by indignant and often irate runners by e-mail, through social media, and on countless blogs. Many runners have lashed out at Mr. Stafko. A few more patient running advocates have invited him to join the running culture hoping to change his somewhat bitter tone. With apologies to the Bard, I come not to bury Mr. Stafko, but to understand him.

One of the premises of his piece is that runners do what they do in order to draw attention to themselves and their accomplishments. Stickers bearing the numbers 26.2 and 13.1 or t-shirts bearing the name of some completed race serve to announce to everyone that, “I am a runner. Look at me!” Mr. Stafko is even annoyed by the mere sight of runners out on the street. Their very presence, and possibly their very existence, is enough to, well, cause him to write to the Wall Street Journal out of frustration.

I am not going to go through a point-by-point rebuttal of his article. There are enough of those responses already in print and on the web. (My favorites are from Dane Rauschenberg, Lauren Fleshman, and Mario Fraioli.) My point is not that Mr. Stafko is wrong (he is wrong about runners and their motivations with almost every word). My point is to understand why he thinks the way he does. Why does Mr. Stafko (and the countless others like him) hold these opinions about Runners?

If we stop to think about it, we all surely know someone like Mr. Stafko. We all have someone in our lives who does not understand why we run: the curmudgeonly co-worker, the rankled relative, or the fractious friend. They are the ones who call us “crazy.” They are the ones who say we will ruin our knees. They are the ones who just don’t get it. And no matter how much we show them how much fun we are having or how good it feels to run, all they can see is how early we have to get up or how far we make ourselves run or how much we sweat. They are the ones who “tried it once and didn’t like it” or the ones who claim “I could never do that.” And no amount of persuasion or argument will get them to see otherwise. They are the Permanent Non-Runners.

Another faction of people out there are the Former Runners. These are people who, for whatever reason, have given up running. Some have chosen another means of exercise; some have been injured and can no longer run; some have simply given up or given in. The attitudes of Former Runners may vary. They may remember with fondness the feel of the road under foot. Or they may carry resentment toward Runners who continue to enjoy what they no longer can.

Every so often among the throng of Non-Runners you will stumble across a Future Runner, a current non-runner who is open to the idea of running as a form of exercise and part of a healthy lifestyle. These people may not even know that they are Future Runners. I certainly didn’t know it 15 years ago. These people need encouragement to get out there and hit the pavement or trail, to commit to making themselves healthy, to become Runners.

We must walk a fine line, we Runners. Runners, like everyone else, need motivation and crave encouragement. We like to congratulate our fellow Runners on their accomplishments. We encourage our fellow Runners when they feel like giving up. Every now and then we need to hear kind words from a fellow Runner when we are discouraged and feel defeated. And we should mentor those Future Runners who look to us as an example of what it means to be a Runner. We can and should be inspirational.

But we must also realize that there are those who don’t get it, those who will never get it, and those who do not want to get it. We should be mindful that there are people for whom a 26.2 sticker is a reminder of their sedentary lifestyle. We should remember that Facebook posts about training runs and PRs go out to our Runner and Non-Runner friends alike. We should take into consideration that there are people who may react negatively to the very things which you find so positive in yourself.

How then should we proceed?

• Encourage your fellow Runners. Celebrate their accomplishments as they celebrate yours. Keep them motivated.

• Inspire the Future Runners in your life. Help them to fulfill their potential and to reach their individual goals.

• Be patient with Former Runners. They still get it (or did get it at some point). Maybe through your encouragement they can be coaxed back into the game.

• Be understanding with Non-Runners. Be prepared for negative reactions. Be ready for unrequited enthusiasm. We can peacefully co-exist with the Chad Stafkos of the world. 

We can do anything. After all, we’re Runners.

San Francisco Half Marathon 2013 -- Recap

Our family had been planning a trip to Yosemite National Park for over six months. I had meticulously planned out all the details. We would fly to San Francisco where we would spend two days sightseeing before picking up our RV to roam through Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National Parks for a week. I had all the usual activities planned for our time in San Francisco: Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown, North Beach, and a cruise under the Golden Gate Bridge and around Alcatraz. As our trip approached, my wife, Tracy, commented that it would be Father’s Day while we were in San Francisco. She wondered what she could get me for a present. A few days before we left, I had an answer for her.

One of the other members of my running team announced he could not run the marathon he had long planned. He was looking for an alternative closer to home on that same weekend. Out of curiosity, I checked the MarathonGuide.com website. I didn’t find anything in the Southeast, but I made an interesting discovery: the Wipro San Francisco Marathon and Half Marathon would be run while we were in town…on Father’s Day.

I had planned to squeeze in a few runs during our vacation. I love running in new places and new cities. Naturally, I was excited by the possibility of racing in such a picturesque locale as San Francisco. I knew I didn’t want to tackle a marathon (too much time and not enough training). But a half marathon would be perfect. As it turns out, there were two different half marathons offered for this race! Runners could sign up for either the First Half Marathon or the Second Half Marathon. Each race had its appeal. But the First Half drew my immediate attention. Not only would we get to race through the Embarcadero and Fisherman’s Wharf, but we would also get to run over the Golden Gate Bridge…twice! I was sold. Fortunately, I was able to sell my wife on it, too (as her Father’s Day gift to me). Five days before the race and two days before the deadline, I completed my online application.

Early on the day after we arrived in San Francisco, I rose early to get in a shakeout run before a day of sightseeing. I ran from our quaint, anime-themed hotel in Japantown up a long gradual incline to Nob Hill. At the top of the hill I was able to see the sun rise over the bay. Through the sky-scraper canyons of the Financial District I saw the Bay Bridge wrapped in a warm glow as the early sunlight bounced of the waters of the bay. Next I circled Grace Cathedral which sits majestically yet humbly upon Nob Hill. From there I coasted like a trolley car back down the hill to our hotel invigorated for a day of discovery with my family.

Later that afternoon, I dragged my family to the Race Expo. There we fought the crowds (20,000+ runners were registered) so I could pick up my bib number and my shirt. After receiving yet another too-small Medium technical shirt, I have finally decided to always order the Large knowing that it will often be too large (but at least I can still wear it). After the Expo, we walked down to AT&T Park to see the Giants’ stadium. Our one regret of the trip was that Giants were not in town. AT&T Park is one of the best parks to watch a ballgame. From there we made our way to Union Square. Somewhere along the way I recalled that you weren’t supposed to spend the day before a race walking miles around the city. But this race was for fun, and I wasn’t about to miss the sights with my family. Back in Japantown that evening, I discovered a new carbo-loading source: Japanese Ramen noodle bowl. These were not your penniless college student Ramen noodles; these were delicious, filling noodles with actual flavor!

The morning of the race was slightly unusual. The race officials had to get thousands of runners over the Golden Gate Bridge with minimal disruption to traffic and tourists. Consequently, the race start time was 5:30 am. This may seem early to many, but I had two things in my favor. I am used to running at 5:00 am, and 5:30 am Pacific Time is 7:30 am Central Time. I set my alarm for 3:45 telling myself it was really 5:45 am. After dressing quietly in the bathroom of our hotel room, I snuck down to the lobby at 4:15 where I planned to call a cab. Before I could pull out my phone, a couple in the lobby wearing race bibs asked me if I wanted to share a cab. I gladly accepted. As we rode toward the Embarcadero, I discovered that they were from Australia. She was in the country for a work conference, which they were turning into an extended two-week vacation with the kids. This would be the first half marathon for each of them. Being used to kilometers, he was not even sure how far the half marathon was. I did warn them about the hills having studied the elevation chart in the days before the race. They both planned to have fun and take it slowly.

We stepped out of our cab at the Embarcadero at 4:40 am into the still pitch-black, cool early morning. We said our goodbyes and wished each other well. I found a little corner that was shielded from the wind off the bay. I put on my bib and sipped my Gatorade. I was ready to run. But my wave would not start for almost an hour at 5:42 am.

As the crowds of volunteers and runners and race officials and policeman gathered and swelled, my thoughts went to Boston. This would be my first big race since the tragedy of April 15. I took inventory of my feelings. I was not fearful; I was not paranoid or hyper-vigilant; in fact, I was almost defiant. I refused to be afraid. And as I looked around me, I saw the same thing: no one was fearful; no one was paranoid; no one was afraid. There was only anticipation and excitement.

The first light began to peek over the eastern side of the bay. Runners (me included) began migrating to the water’s edge to snap pictures of an amazing sunrise that almost none of us would get to see otherwise. Soon, the runners began to gather in their corrals. I made my way to the Wave 3 corral wondering if I should use the bathroom again (the answer to that question is always “yes”).

As I stood in the corral, I listened to the conversations around me. I tried to deduce where the other runners were from. Like my new Australian friends, there were many foreign runners (Germany had perhaps the largest contingent). I even made small talk with a few people. As the gun went off at 5:30 for the elites in Wave 1, we inched our way forward in anticipation. Amongst the throngs of runners waiting to begin the race, I ended up standing next to a guy wearing a Mercedes Marathon hat! He was from Kentucky running San Francisco in order to cross off California from his list of 50 marathons in 50 states. We exchanged a few stories about Mercedes before the gun went off for Wave 2.

By now it was almost full daylight. And by now I realized my bladder would not make it 13.1 miles. Silently I cursed my pre-race Gatorade. The starter thanked us for running San Francisco. He thanked us for our patience in the wake of extra security in light of Boston. At the mention of Boston the runners spontaneously cheered. The gun for Wave 3 went off right on time at 5:42 am.

The first few miles were flat as we made our way along the Embarcadero toward Fisherman’s Wharf. A place usually teeming with tourists was eerily deserted and still. A few brave souls were out to cheer the runners. But for the most part, the runners and seagulls had the area to themselves. I fell into a comfortable pace about 20 seconds per mile slower than my recent PR. I wanted to save for the bridge and the hills at the end. As we ran past the Wharf, the Golden Gate Bridge came into view. Runners (including me) began stopping for brief pics with their cameras and smartphones. By now I was full of anticipation: somewhat for the run over the bridge but mostly for the nearest port-a-let. Finally, just before the Marina I was able to relieve most of my anticipation. I had lost some time, but was now ready to run in earnest.

After the Marina we encountered our first hill around Mile 5 as we made our way from the edge of the bay to the near end of the bridge. I maintained an even pace up the hill passing a few runners who had gone out too fast the first few miles. As we wound our way up the hill we passed the first elite runners making their way back over the bridge. They ran strong but showed a hint of strain. The bridge itself is a manageable, gradual incline to the middle. From there, the views were spectacular: the sunbeams bouncing of the waters of the bay; the light filtering through the city still half-asleep. More and more fast runners were running back over the bridge. Runners around me continued to snap pictures of themselves and their companions.

At the far end of the bridge, we ran through an aid station in a parking lot. I stopped to take some water and some photos. I couldn’t decide which I liked better: being in the city and looking out over the bay or being on the other side of the bay looking back toward the city. As we made our way back over the bridge, even more and more runners were headed towards us making their first pass over the bridge. Half the people were watching the road; the other half were watching the scenery.

   

Once back over the bridge, we headed up another hill into the Presidio. At the top of the hill we hit Mile 10. The reward for our climb was a spectacular view of the bay spilling out into the Pacific. The next mile was a steep downhill descent. I was able to pick up the pace passing many people who were still winded from the previous climb.

   

At the bottom of the hill we ran into the Richmond district. From there it was a gradual 2 mile climb into Golden Gate Park to the finish. As I passed the 12 mile marker I knew I would be able to break 2 hours even while thoroughly enjoying the race and stopping to take pictures. The spectators were now out cheering and holding signs and ringing cowbells. As we entered Golden Gate Park, I could hear the party going. The marathoners split off to the right as we ran left. We wished them well in the second half of their race. Some looked eager to continue; some looked envious of our near-finish. In the home stretch, throngs of people lined the finish shouting for their friends and family members. I always pretend they are cheering for me (it gives me a little boost). I crossed the line happy to be done but sad that it was over. 

   

I received my medal and grabbed a bottle of water. I stopped for a couple of quick “official” post-race photos. Then I meandered over to the food. I eagerly picked up a delicious blueberry scone. I also grabbed a pack of Hawaiian rolls for later. Rather than post-race beer, they were offering Irish coffee to the finishers. Since it was little chilly, I gladly accepted a hot cup of coffee (minus the Irish). It was just a short walk out of the park to hail a cab on the street back to the hotel. I was pleasantly tired but refreshingly invigorated. I was ready for a hot shower and a day of sight-seeing with my family. (We would end up walking about 5 more miles from Japantown to Union Square to Chinatown to North Beach to Fisherman’s Wharf. But I felt great!)

The race really was a fantastic way to see the city from a perspective I would not otherwise have. I cannot imagine a more scenic urban marathon. The early start gave us cool weather and a beautiful sunrise over the bay. The route gave us an interesting, ever-changing view of the city. This is certainly not the race to run if you want to set a PR. But if you really want to enjoy a race, I highly recommend this one. Next time, I’ll have to run the 2nd Half Marathon to see the rest of San Francisco. Or maybe the Full...