Vermont - The Wife's Perspective

We had planned one – one! – trip for the whole year that was a "me" trip. That trip was to Northampton, Massachusetts for my 10 year college reunion. I could have gone alone, and I knew my husband might feel a tad out of place since there were bound to be way fewer men there than women (what with it being a women's college and all) but I wanted him to come and get a bit more of a firsthand understanding of what college had been like for me. Smith College was the most important time of my life, and getting in was the best thing that ever happened to me. More than anything else, it shaped who I am.

But then he "mentioned" that there was a run in Vermont that very Sunday… and it was only 2 hours away!... and we didn't have to do it, but…

So I found myself skipping Commencement (no great loss – I abhor commencements, to be honest. They are so boring! Not even a great speaker can make up for having to watch all those strangers walk across the stage) and driving to Bennington, Vermont. It rained the whole drive, and my weather app kept insisting it would rain the entire morning.

The race was the smallest I had been to yet. The 2 boys karaoke-ing outside of the entrance was quite an experience (I don't know why we can't find them on YouTube. Someone – their mother? – was videotaping the whole thing. I WANT THAT VIDEO!), and inside, the participants were just as interesting. Although a small race, it was obvious that the participants by and large were "real" runners – there were lots of Marathon Maniacs (identifiable by their shirts) and other people who were clearly not first-timers. And of course there was Chuck Engle. I'm glad we figured out who he was right away, so that my husband didn't kill himself trying to win against someone he couldn't possibly beat.

None of the roads were closed for the race. That might have been less great for the runners (I myself am not a fan of running with cars), but it was super great for me, because I didn't have to ever worry about not being able to get to the course. The course seemed well designed, too – I never had to cross it, and it was easy to find good spectating spots. I came in at miles 6 and 17, both of which were turns off the main road so there were course marshals in each spot, and I spent some time making friends (although not too much time because it was still raining, so I spent more time than usual sitting in my car reading). Race volunteers are always so nice. On my way between the stops I even found a Christmas store, and since I had lots of extra time (my drive was a straight shot; their run, not so much) and it was still raining, I went in and did a little shopping and had a nice chat with the owner.

From Mile 17 I headed to the finish. Well, I tried to head to the finish. For the life of me, I could not find it. Everyone said "you can't miss it." Well, I did. A LOT. I kept trying to find the right place on my iPhone, but it kept directing me to the same Lincoln museum. Once it gave me directions to enter from the other side and I got very excited, thinking I had finally found the right place. My heart absolutely dropped when I figured out I was in the same parking lot but had come in from another entrance! Finally I went in and of course they directed me right to the correct field. By the time I got there and sprinted from the car to the finish line (in the rain), I thought that for sure I had missed my husband since the clock was ticking past his goal time. But only 5 people had finished, I found out (by asking the very nice people monitoring the finishers). More and more minutes ticked by. Not once up until this point had my husband ever failed to meet his goal time and I started to worry. I must have looked crazy, pacing up and down, up and down – and all in the rain. Finally I saw him coming. He had to run past us and further up the road, only to turn around and run back through a field, so it was easy to track him coming in, although I'm guessing frustrating for the runners to be so close only to have to run right past the finish and keep going! I found out later, of course, about the detour. I was just happy he was done, and seemed well, although a bit blue (it was still raining…). We had to jump right back into the car and head to the Hartford airport, driving right past Smith again as we did. I don't know when I'll be back (probably not until my 15 year reunion), but I'm so glad we both went. The whole weekend was really fun, and I was actually more than happy to give up one of my days for another race. Spectating 50/50/50 is just as important to me as running 50/50/50 is to my husband. We can't all have super lofty goals!