Running for twenty consecutive years

Michele Poole still has all her original running bibs.  All nineteen of them.  Even the one that still has ink smears from the time she finished the race in the pouring rain.

And last Thursday night, she showed me every one of the little paper-and-safety-pin badges, as she prepared for her 20th consecutive Freihofer’s Run for Women 5K competition.

Michele is a friend of mine, she usually plays trivia at Elbo Room under the team name of “The Wrong Guy.”  She’s a very nice person and a killer foosball player.

One night during a halftime break at trivia, we started talking about what type of things we liked to do in the summer.  She told me that she ran in the Freihofer’s Run for Women competition, and that this upcoming run would be the twentieth consecutive year in which she took the starting line.  She first ran the race as a grade schooler, and had so much energy that day, she ran both the 5K AND a youth race on that same day.

I was impressed.  “Michele,” I said to her, “if you have the conviction and the drive to compete in 20 consecutive Freihofer’s races, then I promise I will be there to photograph your twentieth race.”

So last Thursday, we met to discuss the race course and the best locations to photograph the event.  “I usually start the race by meeting with my old Green Meadow alumni,” she smiled, “and I always say high to my coach, ‘Mr. C.’  Then I get to the starting line, and I do my best.”

“If I’m going to photograph the race,” I replied, “I want to make sure I’m in the best location to not only get the start, but also to get you as you’re approaching the finish line.”

“If you stand on Madison Avenue, just after the overpass, I’ll make sure that when I return to the finish line, I’ll be running on the side of the road closer to where your camera is,” she said.

We went to Elbo Room afterward, and while we were there she showed me her running treasures – photographs of her at various races, as well as her old running bibs and her finishing times.

I could see, as she described her running mates and her coach and her friends and her family, that the Freihofer’s Run for Women was an extremely important part of her life.  It was her connection to those who taught her and guided her and filled her with the spirit and drive of competitive running.

Saturday morning.  No time for goofing off.  Let’s Go, Cardachrome – next stop, the Empire State Plaza.  I found a parking spot a few blocks below the race location, and hiked up Madison Avenue.

The Green Meadow alumni were to meet at a location near the overpass – over two dozen runners in Green Meadow green-colored T-shirts.  I met Michele’s coach, “Mr. C” – Peter Citrolo – and he told me that Michele was a great runner and a first-class person.

Just then, I received a text on my cell phone.  It was Michele.  “Change of plans, Chuck,” she typed.  “I’ll be wearing a black shirt, pink running shorts and will have a yellow bib number.  See you soon.”

I texted back.  “I ran into Mr. C, he wishes you good luck.”

A few minutes later, Michele arrived at the event.  She thanked me for coming to the event, and I told her I would do my best to get a good photo of her.  We talked for a few moments, I wished her good luck, and she went to join the other runners at the starting line.

Nearly five thousand other runners.  I’m not kidding.  The starting line stretched from the overpass all the way down to Bleecker Park.  The runners were arranged by the color of their running bibs, to ensure that the faster runners would not get caught in a pack of thousands of slower runners.

I staked out my starting shot point.  Madison Avenue, about thirty yards from the starting line.

As the runners sped past me, I tried to find Michele.  No luck.  Oh well, I thought, I’ll just go down to the finish line and try to photograph her as she finishes the race.

I made my way down to the finish line and set up my location.

“Sorry, sir, you can’t be here,” a volunteer chided me.

I asked why.

“Sir, this area is going to be filled with 5,000 runners as they cross the finish line, and we need to make sure that there are no spectators past the finish line.  Sorry.”

No problem.  Based on Michele’s previous running times – anywhere from 25 to 29 minutes to finish a 5K race – I had a few minutes to find an alternate shooting spot.

Unfortunately, two other “alternate” spots were blocked off by VIP-only barriers.

This isn’t good.

Then inspiration hit.

There were spectators on the overpass above Madison Avenue.  I quickly sprinted up to the steps, and found an open location facing the runners as they ran down Madison.

A fellow spectator next to me had a stopwatch, and was calling out times here and there.  As the winning runner – Mamitu Daska of Ethiopia – approached the finish line –

Mr. Stopwatch said, “Fifteen minutes.”

As other runners sprinted down Madison Avenue, I asked Mr. Stopwatch if he could let me know when 25 minutes – and later 27 minutes – ticked.

He said he would try.

But as more runners reached the finish line, it was getting harder and harder to find Michele.  It was like trying to find Waldo from half a mile away.

Where the devil is she?  There were more and more runners in their final kick down Madison Avenue, and it was getting harder and hard to spot her.  I tried to remember.  Black top.  Pink shorts.  Yellow bib number, 1288.  I used my camera as a high-powered scope, quickly identifying each runner.

“What time is it now?” I asked.

“I”ve got 27 minutes,” Mr. Stopwatch said.

27 minutes.  That’s around Michele’s average time for a 5K.  I hope she didn’t get jammed up by some slower runners, or God forbid pulled a muscle or something.  Where is she, where is she –

And then, I spotted her.

I immediately hit the camera’s rapid-fire shutter speed, and the shutter popped with the speed of a paparazzi.  God bless St. Kōgaku, the patron saint of Nikon cameras.

As she ran toward the overpass, I saw her wave to someone and do a fist pump.  Twenty years of finish lines.  And this was the 20th consecutive finish line.  My camera captured it all.

After I knew that Michele had finished the race, I went over to a pre-arranged location at the Empire State Plaza’s upper concourse.  A few minutes later, there was Michele, weary but beaming at her achievement.

“How fast did you run?” I asked.

“I finished the course in 28:22,” she smiled.  “As long as I beat 30 minutes, I’m happy.  Did you get any pictures of me?”

I turned the camera around and showed her the fist-pump photograph.

“Oh, you got me just as I was waving to my mother!”

Aces.

Now on this blog, I’ve always touted the “do unto others” mantra of bloggers supporting bloggers.  But there’s another good credo to live by – trivia teams supporting trivia teams.  If somebody’s going to achieve a streak of two decades of consistent participation – and competitive speed – at a running event, then that’s something worth promoting and celebrating.

So congratulations Michele on 20 consecutive years, 20 consecutive starts, 20 consecutive finish lines and 20 consecutive achievements.  All the best.