Around a New Sun

Yesterday I had my first taste of race directing. I started small with a Centennial Staff 5 km race of just over 40 participants, which is not bad considering the Boston marathon began with only 18 runners in 1897. Instead of running around to warm up for a race, I was driving around like a mad woman putting out cones and setting up a water station.  Where I would usually be worrying about getting my own timing chip on properly, I was instead handing out chips and race numbers and explaining how to put them on. And rather than standing in the crowd bouncing up and down in anticipation, I was at the front of the group giving directions about where to run and offering the good news that the gusting winds would be behind the runners on the way back to the school.

I liked the whole experience very much. Well maybe not giving myself multiple slivers while hauling  the plywood stage for the band, or watching the maps I had for each student volunteer gallop away in a burst of wind while I yelled shittttt then apologized, then had the students reassure me that they had all heard worse. But other than those minor moments of irritation, the excitement of watching each runner finish was almost as great as the euphoria of finishing Boston. Well, in Boston we got thermal capes which were pretty cool. Then again, roaring around on the gator with my colleague Toffer driving was way cool, though I tried not to grin too foolishly lest I betray my complete lack of coolness.

Watching the staff gather to walk, or run or ride was a little magical, as I couldn't quite believe this many staff were unified in one activity. 

It is appropriate that it is spring as it seems the staff is waking out of a long, dark winter. Use what metaphors you will; it is a time of rejuvenation, renewal and rebirth. We are revolving around a new sun, and it is a chance to be warm again, to blossom without the danger of a killing frost. 

Yesterday made me think of the gradual instant that Anne Michaels talked of in her novel Fugitive Pieces. Since the fall we have gradually been recovering from years of ineffective leadership where we traveled a poorly cobbled road of haphazard intentions. We didn't end up in hell, perhaps, but it sure was a long way from Eden. As the group of runners gathered it seemed to mark an instant when the return of staff morale was almost palpable. 

I don't know if it was the adrenaline of overseeing the race that carried me through my run today, but for whatever reason I was soaring, and it felt so easy even as I picked up the pace. 

It was a dazzling, clear day, and as I neared the bridge on Vance I saw my favourite pet deer. There was a family with two young girls watching Miss Deer from a careful distance, and they were amazed as I slowed my pace, and the deer came up to me and nuzzled my hand. I must have looked like quite the deer whisperer until I told them she was tame, so the girls approached cautiously, giggling and thrilled with their adventure, while I carried on up the road. In the sky above me, a bright red stunt plane was performing balletic pirouettes and dramatic dives, adding to the magical nature of the day. 

I won't be giving up running for race directing any time soon, but I will certainly be organizing the Staff 5 km again next year if only to enjoy the sight at Symposium restaurant afterwards of two long tables full of staff members, drinking and sharing tales of their epic journeys to the finish line.