HOW MANY PEOPLE DOES IT TAKE TO PUT ON A MARATHON?
Elaine Doll-Dunn
Not a lot, actually, they just have to all enjoy ‘running around’, zero pay, long hours, changed plans, the aroma of glow (horses sweat, men perspire, ladies glow), the heady intoxication of estrogen, and the euphoria of a job well done.
Sunday was a perfect day. Keeping the theme consistent with theatrical productions, opening night was a smash hit. Ninety-six women left the parking lot of the Lead Country Club at 6:30 on Sunday morning, and began the 26.2 mile trek to the finish line in Tretheway Park…a ribbon of women wending their way down the canyon with “supporting actors” at every aid station along the way dispensing water, Gatorade, chocolate and cheers.
From Alaska to Florida, from California to Connecticut, they came to run. Women representing 27 different states gathered in Spearfish with their South Dakota sisters to experience the thrill of the marathon distance in the glorious beauty of the Black Hills. Women who care, women who dare. Women who pit themselves against time and distance to complete the impossible task of running 26.2 miles in a pilgrimage as unique to each individual as is the fingerprint of her hand. To each it is a challenge; to each it is a labor, to each it is the survival of soul and spirit. They can, therefore they do.
It helps to have a community that endorses positive endeavors, welcomes strangers to our city, and gives of its bounty in time, talent and treasure. It’s nice to have a mayor who will take time to greet the celebrity guest, stay to support the finishers, and step up to eliminate a rude intruder. It’s good to have a husband with expertise in course assembly and finish line construction, it’s imperative to have a gifted web-master to keep on-line communication smooth and professional, it’s invaluable to have a friend who is organized and indefatigable, and it’s delightfully advantageous to have a large family in close proximity. But mostly it’s powerful to have people who believe in a crazy vision, who endorse and support a far-out idea, and who tirelessly reinforce the shaky foundations of a vision bigger than the person conceiving it.
On the frivolous side, it was decidedly “Girls Night Out”. Chocolate at all the aid stations, good looking men “manning” said stations, hugs from tuxedoed gentlemen at the finish, a pink ribboned medal placed around their neck by matching twin boys, one red rose presented by another regal gentleman, and a monogrammed lemon scented facial cloth offered by a dark-eyed pre-lady with the soft reminder, “You’re beautiful.”
Even bringing up the rear was fun, the last runner was privileged to wear a tiara. Reminded that it is fashionable to be late, that the Queen enters last, that there is opportunity to practice thee wave, and that last place is just the slowest winner. In passing someone, she would be required to give up the tiara, then that woman would became the ‘crowned head’. The problem? No one wanted to give it up! I had visions of this row of courteous women standing at the finish line saying,
“You go first!
“No, you go first!”
“No, really, you go first!” ‘Til the moon rose over Crow Peak and the pines became shadows.
It was a glorious day. Cool for August, a slight breeze, and the retreating bikers encouraging the entourage as they met on the curves in the canyon. The overall winner took the lead from the beginning, a perfect example of athletic grace. Her legs beautiful pistons powering through Hanna, down the canyon road, and sailing into Spearfish park at undiminished speed; a study in perfect motion. Breaking three hours by more than three minutes, she led the charge of a Boston Qualifying time for 22 of her sisters.
As the final athlete was draped with the final medal, the awards ceremony began. Hand crafted trophies were a Star Quilt for first place, Alabaster stars for the masters, and pine carved star ladies dipped in Cherry Kool-Aid for age group winners. (Resist licking.) Kathrine Switzer assist me in presenting the age group awards, her grace and humor topped off the day as she led the group in a spontaneous limerick written by Sally Gordon, a runner from Philadelphia, and my daughter Sami Trask, creator of the quilt.
It is as follows:
There once was a gal named Elaine,
Who laughed in the face of real pain.
She said, “Come to Spearfish,
We’ll all get our real wish…”
So we came,……we must be insane.
(I don’t get much respect...)
So opening night is a wonderful memory, and sleep deprivation is waning. Will this be a “long running hit”? Well, they all say they’re coming back next year and bringing friends….by the numbers.
