Running Partner to the Rescue

By Sara Hodges Myers (a.k.a Beanhowser),
A MapMyRun.com Contributing User

As featured in the September 2007 Newsletter

I just finished a hard eight-miler with my running partner of four years, Janya. Like most running partners, she keeps me on track, pushes me beyond my limits, and puts up with my complaining while we tackle the unavoidable foothills of Colorado. Other than running; however, we never hang out -- even though we live only two miles from each other.

Sara & Janya The author (left) and her running partner, Janya (right), convinced of frostbite after completing one of their usual 5:30 a.m. training runs in the foothills of Colorado.

For a brief moment, I contemplate this fact as I drive toward the grocery store before getting distracted by a mental list of the few items that I need to purchase. My muscles tighten and twitch in appreciation of the recent workout as I pull into a very packed parking lot.

Instantly, I regret procrastinating grocery shopping until now as it's the Thanksgiving holiday and everyone else is also buying last-minute ingredients. Hesitantly, I walk into the store and am rudely snapped out of my post-runner's high to a shopper's frenzy. I bypass the carts and opt for a basket and head straight toward the canned vegetable aisle, just barely dodging an exhausted mom pushing a cart filled with screaming kids. I take a deep breath and round the corner. As I scan the shelves, I find myself locked in an aisle by standstill traffic. There is no way out. I can't move forward and I can't move backward. And, of course, I am too polite to ask anyone to move just for me...so I wait. I wait until the debate over whether or not bean casserole should be served again this year or not is settled. And, I wait some more. Standing there in my sweaty running clothes, I hope that my stink isn't offending anyone. Finally! I see an opening, go for it, grab my corn, and move on to items next on my list before checking out.

The farther away from the grocery that I drive, the more and more relaxed I become. My thoughts drift happily back to my run with Janya, impressed with the hills we conquered earlier that morning. We always joke that in Colorado, it's not about what goes up, must come down; rather, it's about what goes down, must go up. I laugh as I think about my current marathon schedule downloaded from Hal Higdon's Web site: Thursday = 7 x hill. Janya and I have no choice; every run is X by hills, hills, and more hills.

Pulling into my driveway, I notice that my neighbor across the street is staring and watching me. I give a little wave; I get nothing back. Only having four small bags of groceries, I grab all of them at the same time in one hand, open the door with the other and grab my wallet, water bottle, cell phone, fleece, and keys. I step (struggle) out of my car, lock it, and give a powerful push to shut the door with my foot. Completely aware that my neighbor is still watching, I feel slightly smug about successfully not dropping a thing. Look at me, look how talented I am. I'm an excellent multi-tasker. La-ti-dah.

Or so I stupidly thought before realizing that something was missing....

Car door is locked, check. Four bags of groceries in my hand, check. Wallet tucked under my arm pit, check. Cell phone in my mouth, check. Fleece wrapped around my arm, check. Uh oh. Where are my keys? Slowly, I peer through the driver's window hoping the worst hasn't happened. Sure enough, there are my keys, sitting very neatly on the seat. Somehow, during the split second that I was shutting the door with my foot, my keys dropped back into the car. Drat!

Locked out of my car and out of my house...I am frazzled. What am I going to do? I drop everything and sit down in my driveway to think. My neighbor has apparently retreated inside. I use my cell phone to call my husband; no answer. I call my sister; no answer. I call my parents; no answer. It's getting colder outside.

Then, I light up when I remember about a year ago I gave Janya a key to my house, "for emergencies," I said, when I handed it over, "just in case." Quickly, I scroll through my contacts and hit the send button when I see her name, crossing my freezing fingers. After she answered the phone and patiently listened to my bad luck, it took her less than five minutes to show up at my place. I barely recognize her without running attire and a pony tail. Her hair is wet from a shower, she is barely dressed, and even though she didn't complain, I know that she is running late for work.

When she drove off, I stood in amazement. Sure, some people may see it as a small favor, but to me it was such a display of warmth. In some ways, a running partner is more dependable than anyone else. They can truly be some of the most dedicated, disciplined, and loyal people. In looking back on our years of running together and five marathons combined, Janya and I have been more committed to each other than some marriages. We've been the watch dog for when one of us has had to take an emergency bathroom break on the side of a road or in a garden (don't ask), pulled the other back when they were inches away from being hit by a car refusing to yield to pedestrians, intimidated an aggressive dog or two, pulled the other up when they have tripped over a curb, braced the other when they have slipped on ice, and took pictures of each other when we really, truly believed we had frostbite on our faces. In addition, most, if not all of our runs are filled with intimate conversations about life and family.

It was then, after being locked out of car and home, that I realized how deep our partnership had grown. A realization a bit late, I know, but a realization nonetheless.

A couple of days after the "lock out," Janya proudly presented me with a key to her house. Who knows, maybe in five more years, we'll finally get together for a happy hour.

About the Author
Sara has been nationally published in Glass Magazine, AutoGlass Magazine, and Window & Door Magazine and regionally published in Tallahassee Magazine and Emerald Coast Magazine. Formerly a senior copywriter for Sports Authority and editor for Globus family of brands, she now enjoys the flexibility of freelance writing/editing and training for her third marathon set for September 30th in Toronto. Email her here.