Women’s Running Retreat

I always loved (and still do) watching any kind of movie of documentary about training. I still will find inspiring montages on YouTube to watch when I need extra motivation, especially those featuring women. As a kid that mainly meant watching ballet dancers not eat and break in their toes for their pointe shoes, but the dedication and work ethic was so appealing.* In college, I became obsessed with the idea of running in the mountains and running ultras once I learned they existed. I devoured every resource I could about training, mainly about strength training, road running and cycling then, since it was more documented. Several years later, when I worked at the running store in Seattle, surrounded by pro trail and ultra runners (though back then that meant still having a full time job), I learned what training, nutrition, and other supportive modalities were required to perform at the highest level on trails. I found more books and soaked in everything I could from those around me as they won the most prestigious races in the country. When a friend and his wife hosted a trail running camp, I was honored to help. For three days, participants could train like the pros: run daily (sometimes twice), eat copious amounts of healthy food, and recover hard.

In 2010, I wanted to offer the same, not in large part so I could have a weekend of catered training. Somehow the word retreat felt better than camp, but I couldn’t explain why. I also wanted to add yoga to the mix because while I knew the benefits of yoga, I rarely added it to my own training practice. My best friend Kristy taught yoga in Bend, and at that time she worked at a running store, so it was a great excuse to have her come help me. Kristy was the first person I met in my college dorm. She’s vibrant, friendly, funny, and simply one of those people you want to be around as much as possible because they make you feel both more relaxed and more energetic.

As the retreat drew closer, I was nervous. The routes were mapped, food was set, and the weekend plan was made, but what if people didn’t have a good time? What if I didn’t map out long enough runs? Like a race or other nerve-wracking event, once it began I instantly relaxed. Everything I could do was done, and now I just needed to go with the schedule. We went around the room introducing ourselves and what we wanted for the weekend and I was excited to hear how much running everyone wanted to do and how to maximize our time. But before even being half way through, I realized I needed to throw out the plan. A woman would say her name, where she was from, and more often than not say something like “I’m just excited to have a weekend away from my kids and not have to cook.”

I was thirty years old, without children, and not yet married. Really? I thought. You don’t care how much you run? You’re not trying to run as much as possible for three days?

We had an amazing weekend. We ran, we relaxed, we talked, and we ate. I thought I’d never be able to create the same space again, with such a great group of women. Each subsequent year though, I’m proven wrong. I’ve participated in other retreats and the same thing happens: it’s exactly what I need, even if I don’t know what that is when I arrive. The group meshes to form its own energy, with everyone adding a little of themselves to create a magical experience.

In the fifteen years since that first retreat, I’ve gotten married, had babies, and now have a pre-teen on my hands. At the last retreat I went to, I said that I was most looking forward to a weekend away without my kids. I get it now. As I put together the retreat schedule, I hold it loosely: it’s all optional. And I’ve broadened how I look at training. Sometimes I don’t need a run, but want to ponder a tree I saw on a run, or make a collage like I used to do growing up, basking in piles of magazines to find my preferences and inspiration.

This year Kristy is coming back. We’re bringing magazines, writing prompts, poetry, along with the usual training books and technical talks that inform how to run for decades. I’m SO excited.

*not until writing this do I wonder if that’s why I got into endurance sport and this kind of work?