Cover photo courtesy of Kort Laughlin
Racing meant a lot to my identity as a high schooler. I was on the track and cross-country teams at my rural high school, and I was never more nervous than the day of a meet. During that teenage time of figuring out who I was, being a runner was an identifier I held onto when other things in my social world shifted. Which was why I took it especially hard the season I sustained a fascia injury in my left calf muscle that left me limping. Nothing seemed worse than being unable to run.
I think of that injury nearly 20 years later for a few reasons. My cross-country coach asked me to compete in the districts race at the end of the season, hoping I’d score some points for the team, even though I could barely walk. I lined up at the start because I was a high school girl used to doing what I was told. I finished almost dead last, was in a lot of pain when I did, and never told off my coach for treating me like an asset instead of a person.
By the following season, I had healed and I had a new coach, one who ran marathons as a hobby. “Listen to your body,” she said to our team, which I heard as “you’re the authority on what you can and should do on the course.” It was the first time I’d considered it. The fact that I can still see her on the front lawn of the high school saying this to a circle of runners doing pre-practice stretches is proof of how perspective-shifting it was for me.
“Listen to your body” reframed my idea of working with my body rather than against it while running, of entering into a partnership with it rather than seeing it as something to tamp into submission. I never ran a race when it didn’t feel right again.
Since high school, I’ve continued running and racing for pleasure. I enjoy a challenge and I’m competitive. I’m able to run sustainably by respecting my knees when they say I haven’t done enough base training, not hitting the trail if I haven’t adequately fueled and hydrated, and saying no to races that don’t feel right, even if I’ve already paid for them.
Establishing a good relationship with racing has allowed me to connect with all the other beautiful things that the sport can provide. I love the running community in Spokane, the gear shops and run clubs, and I still love picking up a few races each year. I’ve run through loneliness, frustration, anxiety, sadness and joy. I’ve run alone and with a stroller, on roads and on trails, near rivers and up mountains. Running has been a companion that has helped me through life, more partnership than punishment, and one good coach helped me see it that way long ago.
In this issue of Out There Outdoors, we’ve rounded up our Race, Ride and Event Guide, a collection of the races in our region from March through October for runners, cyclists, walkers, triathletes, swimmers and paddlers. It’s an exciting list. I hope it sparks some inspiration to explore our region and the community that comes with racing and outdoor activities. And I hope you race for you.
- Lisa Laughlin, managing editor
