Editor’s Note: This is an article written by Team G(race) member Rick Bowman. Many of our members have different backgrounds and experiences that led them to become runners. We invite them to share these experiences with their teammates and the local running community.
About nine years ago, my brother Bill, invited me to run a 5K with him. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary for a runner, except that I was not a runner. With complete innocence I asked, “How long is a 5K?”
“3.1 miles”, he answered. Isn’t that like the distance from the Earth to the outer reaches of the solar system, I wondered? It seemed awfully long. With no enthusiasm, I said, “I’d have to think about it,” but I already knew that I’d just politely say, “No way, José!” Continue reading
This guest post is by Teri, one of our new runners who only started running a year ago, ran her first half marathon in September, and yesterday ran the Walt Disney World half marathon with 3 other Team G runners. This post is a good reminder that becoming a runner is part of a journey, one that will have ups and downs. Whatever the reason for running, you need patience, and perseverance, to keep moving forward.
It’s Not About the Running
In two days I will embark on the final few days of a journey I have been on for a long time. I am running the Walt Disney World Half Marathon, but for me this experience represents much more than a race. Continue reading
Team G member Casie gave her permission to post the following musings about one of our parks in Troy, Ohio. The Hobart Urban Nature Preserve is my favorite place to run in Troy, but prior to reading Casie’s post, I had not put much thought into how cool the park really is.
My Central Park
There’s a little park in the middle of my town that you’d blow by if you didn’t know it was there. Even driving by it, with large sign explaining the contents behind the stone wall, you’ll only see a long stone drive. Hidden and secluded is just fine by me.
It’s off the beaten path that I go in the early morning. A gravel path winding through suburbia’s undeveloped prairies that has been overgrown by wild flowers and trees and grasses. The plat houses built in the 1960’s outline the area but seem to fade into the distance when I hear the crunching of stones between the divots in my shoes.
Deer live here among rabbits and frogs and butterflies. There is a man made pond/lake in the middle where the mist hangs in the morning and the serenade of frogs is enchanting.
Sprinkled in amongst the scenery are large sculptures that the local artists and politicians placed for the non-outdoorsy types. At first, I frowned at seeing these massive iron metal works,but Mother Nature is taking them over and hiding them nicely under the canopy of her cloak.
Something happens to me when I’m here. My brain resets. It’s the combination of crunching gravel, running, nature, and the feeling of escaping. I feel free and happy here. I’m usually with my friends, at least one anyway, and while we chat about life’s happenings, I’m soaking up this place. It’s my little oasis. My little Central Park.