Crazy Like a Loon

There are few things better than a small local road race. The Loon Lake 5.5k in northern Whitley County, Ind. is the perfect example. For the third year out of the six years of this race, on the Fourth of July weekend I wandered a few country roads away from my uncle's cottage on Crooked Lake and signed up to run around Loon Lake with about 100 other people. The race lasts 0.5k longer than most road races because that's just the distance around the roads that surround Loon Lake. Makes perfect sense to me.

This year I arrived a little late (I've never been known for my punctuality) and suffered a cruel fate in the world of road racing -- I missed out on the race t-shirt. They had a larger-than-expected crowd and reserved the shirts only for the pre-registered.

The red shirts said "Crazy Like a Loon"on the front and had a picture of a running loon (a duck-like bird). I eventually picked my broken heart off the ground after consoling myself with the fact that I already own too many t-shirts, then hurried up only to wait in the port-o-potty line for a while. I squeezed in a short one-mile warm-up and headed towards the herd of people already on the road.

Near the start line I positioned myself behind a few gangly high school boys. Wearing their long shorts they bemoaned the fact they were there and had to run hard on a holiday weekend. I had flashbacks to high school cross country practices, waiting patiently behind the boys until I finally passed at least a few of them toward the end of the workout or race.

To my left I saw a young but toned girl, probably 12- or 13-years-old standing next to her dad. She told him she didn't really want to start that far up front. He shrugged his shoulders and made a facial expression that said "too bad, you're staying here." I cringed. So many talented young female runners have been pushed too hard by their parents, usually the fathers. Competitive distance running is too painful of a sport to not have intrinsic motivation to put one foot in front of the other, day in and day out.

The race started and the young girl blew past my not-very-warmed-up marathon legs. I tucked in behind another guy, then moved next to my teeny bopper competitor around the mile mark. She showed no signs of fatigue and for a moment fear flashed through me. Yes, I lack the speed I had in high school and college, but to get beat by someone of the Justin Bieber era -- that would really be a blow to the ol' ego.

Near one-and-a-half miles into the race she started breathing pretty hard and slowed down. I passed one more high school boy at the two-mile mark, and ran by myself for the rest of the 5.5 kilometers. The beautiful country scenery, with fields of corn, a lake and green trees distracted me, as did wondering if I'd rather have an Egg McMuffin or Hot Cakes after the race, and I slowed down significantly in the third mile. The power of focus is a distance runner's greatest asset, and lapses always show up on the clock. It is an unforgiving sport. But fortunately, I pulled out the overall female victory, and came in fifth overall behind four high schoolers.

I congratulated the young girl at the finish line and she told me "you were awesome." That was very nice of her, and reminded me that sometimes even strangers can have a big impact. She and her dad started cooling down immediately after the race, while I was still chit chatting with some of my family who had stopped by to watch the finish. I sat down my water bottle and did my cool down too, exploring the quiet county roads around northern Indiana's scenic lake district. It was quite a peaceful run, followed by a nice family lunch of pulled pork and one last dip into Crooked Lake (I never did stop for the Egg McMuffin or Hot Cakes. I secretly blamed them for my slow third mile).

Even without a race t-shirt, I gained a lot from this little event. For someone who spent years focused only on the clock and the place, it is always nice to be reminded of the other upsides of running - people gathering in solidarity to be healthy, achieve goals, get to know each other, etc.

On the ride home to Bloomington, Scott and I took a little detour so I could use the $25 gift certificate to a running store in Fort Wayne that I won at the race. After Scott dragged me away from the many distractions of shiny running clothes that I really didn't need, I used the prize money to buy some much needed new socks.

During the rest of the long drive on I-69, I-465 and SR37, I occasionally thought of the pony-tailed girl at the race. I only had the briefest of glimpses into her running career, but I hope what I saw was an anomaly. I hope her parents give her the space and freedom to pursue her interests and grow as a runner and a person.

Without soccer, basketball and various school activities to counterbalance running during my formative years, I would not be the runner, or person, I am today. I hope she and her parents remember the other people at the Loon Lake run, and countless other road races, and why they are there: for the love of the sport, for the health benefits, for the camaraderie, and even just for the t-shirt.

*The photo is from last year's Loon Lake race, but I wore the exact same outfit and the corn looked pretty much identical, so it still gives a good feel for the setting.