30 Years of Running...Fun, Family, Friends and Fashion (Part I)

Dad in his barber shop

Running became a part of my life in 1979.  I believe it was officially called jogging at that time.  Jogging was the rage and my dad decided to give it a try.  He was always one for exercise.  So at the age of twelve and as my dad's "after work sidekick", I decided to join him.  You see, being my dad's sidekick came with perks.  My dad was the town barber and on many days, weather permitting and pre-adolescence, I would ride my bike to his shop at the end of his work day.  Timing my entrance with his wrapping up the last haircut was crucial, as Dad was sure to take care of every customer regardless of the time.

Dad's four block commute to work was on his bicycle.  When I would join him for the ride home, his daily routine always involved picking up the mail at the post office.  Past that, there were typically three adventure options on our ride home together.  One was to stop at our elderly neighbor's house (he was over 100 yrs old...true story) to check on his well being along with his disabled son who lived with him.  On a lucky day, we would stop by the drive-in and get a soft serve ice cream cone.  And on the REALLY lucky days, we would stop by one of the local bars where I would enjoy a bottled root beer while "bellying" up to the bar.  So when Dad brought up jogging after work, I was game to give it a try.  He had a good history with me on great ideas of things to do together.

So Dad and I started jogging from the alley behind our house.  Our route followed a street heading out of town and began with a climb up the steepest hill in Remsen.  On our first jog, I wore tan corduroy bib overalls (painter's paints style) and dad, a pair of jeans.  We were unaware that special clothing should accompany this new adventure, but quickly learned that modifications to our attire was a necessary adjustment.  My chubby thighs did not bear well with running in cords and I had some nice strawberry chaffing after the first jog to prove this point.  Every night we added distance to our route, but always started by running up that first steep hill.  It was fun.  I liked it.  This form of exercise was much better than the calisthenics we did in gym class.

With the influence of Charlie's Angels in their tight fitting jogging outfits and Kristy McNichol donning her cool and casual sweats, I was alerted to a fashion trend that I was clearly missing out on.  I knew that I too needed a jogging suit.  After perusing the JC Penny's catalog, I saw many varieties that mirrored the ones that Kelly (my favorite angel) wore.  For those who read my "Big Bird" blog, you are keenly aware that my mom made most of my clothing as a child.  But jogging outfits did not fit in her repertoire of sewing abilities, so we decided that store bought was the way to go on this item.  The prospect of me joining junior high track and my convincing her of my need for this jogging "uniform" resulted in a jogging suit being added to the list for her next out-of-town shopping trip.

My mistake was not showing Mom specifically what I had in mind for a jogging suit (i.e. my findings in the JC Penney's catalog).  My exact words to Mom on what I wanted were "surprise me".  What I meant was the color as I thought all jogging suits mirrored those that the Angels wore and the ones in the catalog; you know...red/blue/black, racing stripe down the side, and tight fitting.  So my mom did follow through with a surprise, but not the surprise I was looking for.  She came home with a jogging suit in forest green with mint green accents in strange geometrical patterns.  It was tight fitting, made me look chubby (who would have thought that I wouldn't instantly look like Jaclyn Smith!), and was completely different from all the other girls on the track team.  Again, my mom was ahead of her time as this would have been a sensation in the mid 80's.  Not so much in 1980.

Of course I wore the ugly sweat suit through junior high track.  The chubby look motivated me to run faster and reduce the girth of the thighs, so ultimately a good purchase if you look at the bright side.  By high school I had my own job at the drive in (now serving my dad ice cream cones after work).  With my own job came my own money which directly resulted in me purchasing and making my own clothing choices (whew!).  So I bought the short (very short) silky running shorts.  This was the early 80's and I think my brother, Matt, had basically the same shorts that were even shorter than mine.  I wore a bandanna tied across my forehead to match the shorts (think Olivia Newton-John and "Get Physical") and my striped socks were hiked up to my knees.  By this time my dad had given up jogging because it hurt his knees.  Instead he and my mom took up power walking which became their lifelong exercise of choice.


High school track was an enjoyable experience for me and I was quite good at it.  My races were the 400 and 200 meters.  When I was in Remsen this last summer for my all-school reunion, I saw that my name was still listed in the 1600 meter relay for school record.  Those were really fun times, but I can still so clearly remember the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as I waited for my race to begin.  It is a funny anomaly that I can speak in front of hundreds of people with not a hint of nervousness, but put me front and center for an athletic endeavor and I am a bundle of nerves.  I even ran cross country for a couple of meets, but need to call a spade a spade on this one.  My motivation was to qualify for districts so I could hold hands with my boyfriend on the very long bus ride to and from the meet.  Indeed I did qualify and yes, I did enjoy the bus ride.

I continued to run "my route" through Remsen based on what my dad and I had mapped out at the start of our jogging adventure.  It ultimately spanned to two miles and I always ran for time, trying to beat my last record clocking.  And I would run it at all hours of the day and night.  When I was a Junior I started waitressing Saturday nights at the Golden Pheasant steak house.  My wind down routine after work and after midnight was to run my route.  The local police would keep a watch on me and I would often meet them as I rounded the dark and isolate corner around the Farmer's Co-op.  There was many a night that I was chased down by drunks or yelled at out windows by those enjoying their own late night weekend festivities.  But I was stubborn and I liked to run under the moonlight, so the harassment was well worth the guilty pleasure.  And only in a small town could I get away with this strange routine.

(Part II will follow...college and the 20's)

I am far right of the bottom row (Rocky, Karen and Beth to the left of me)