Volunteer. And be a superhero.

Two superhero volunteers (author, Kally Hanifin on the right) at the Girls on the Run 5k in Boston.

by Kally Hanifin

This will be my third year running the Chicago Marathon, and my first year running as a SoleMate with Girls on the Run. Although Chicago was my first marathon and feels very much like my home course, I live in Boston. I felt like I should get to know the organization in my own city, and I’m so glad I did.

It’s a weird time to be a runner in Boston. I signed up to volunteer at the Girls on the Run 5k months earlier, but the date fell just two weeks after the day of the Boston Marathon, and much of my conversation with the other volunteers that morning was about where we were that fateful day. All of us had been there, at some point on the course, cheering. Such is the nature of runners. When we aren’t running the race, we want to volunteer. When we can’t volunteer, we cheer. The communal, supportive spirit of the sport is what I like best about it.

The morning of the 5K, I arrived on the esplanade, donning my fluorescent pink Cheer Squad shirt, and took my spot at the Happy Hair table just in time for the enormous swarm of girls to overtake us. By far, the most popular request was for the colored hair spray. I did stripes, mohawks, blue to orange ombre, silver polka dots. I had no idea I had such skill with a hair spray can, but all of my works of art trotted away happily. Some brave coaches also allowed their runners to color their hair for them. In less than an hour, there was not a single head of human colored hair left.

Amidst the din, I chatted and laughed with my fellow volunteers, and by the end of the day, learned at which other races we would be volunteering together. We traded contact information and made plans for future waterstop hijinks. It was easily the most fun I’ve had volunteering, but it also felt good to be around other Boston runners during a time when we were trying to get our bearings back.

Overall, as an experience: A+. And now you have the chance to do the same. Volunteer at the Girls on the Run-Chicago 5k on June 1st. Because Lynda Carter ain’t got nothin’ on you.

Cross the line

By Alice Kovacik

This Sunday I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to run an 8K. Now, a 4.97 mile race might not seem like much to a seasoned marathoner or a veteran triathlete, but for me, the girl who used to cry in anticipation of the mile run in gym class, Sunday is a big day.

Much like the girls who participate in Girls on the Run, my journey to race day has been an invaluable lesson in hard work fueled by an unwavering commitment to achieve a single goal: cross the finish line.

It sounds simple, but it’s not. Training has required a redefinition of my relationship with running, one rooted in self-efficacy rather than self-doubt. I’ve learned that it doesn’t really matter how fast I go, as long as I keep going. Early mornings, sore muscles, and hard-fought endurance have drowned out the little voice that keeps insisting, “You’re not a runner, Alice.”

Early last month, I ran four consecutive miles for the first time. I had to stop myself from sharing this milestone with complete strangers while walking to the grocery store or riding the El to work. I waited eagerly for friends and co-workers to ask about my weekend so I could tell them about my run. “I ran four miles on Saturday — without stopping!” I felt compelled to include that last phrase for those familiar with the details of my rocky relationship with running. It wasn’t even race day and I felt like a million bucks.

I may never run a marathon, but I’m grateful to have experienced the feeling of accomplishment that comes with transforming one very slow, painful mile into two, and with a lot of determination, into four. This weekend, I’ll wind through downtown Chicago to make it five.

I’m running the Shamrock Shuffle because it’s something I told myself I could never do, and I’m finding that it’s pretty empowering to prove yourself wrong.

I am a Girl on the Run.

“Mommy” she said, “Sometimes Barbies are just Barbies.”

“Yes,” I said, “But this Barbie told the others that she is a loner, and then she used mean words, and then she announced no one accepts her.”

“No one accepts her because she is different. She likes different stuff than the other Barbies.”

“But don’t you see, my Barbie keeps saying she does like her and wants to be friends.  So my Barbie is now sad, because her friend is so busy worrying about other girls, she doesn’t notice the girls who like her for herself.”

“Hum…” she said.

“Knock knock” I say, as my Barbie approaches the jewelry box home of her Barbie.

“Yes?” comes the tiny voice.

“Hi, it is me Lightning Barbie.  I was wondering if you wanted to come out and have coffee with me.”

“Okay” says the tiny voice, and then her Barbie emerges from the box and together they march down the bed to the imaginary coffee shop.   As play continues, the Monster High Girls and the Princesses join the Barbies and make a club of girls who accept each other as they are and celebrate their differences.

Sometimes play is just play.  Sometimes it is not.  Sometimes as we grow up we try on ideas and ways to interact with each other through our imagination.   My daughter is in the 3^rd grade.  She and her peers are dealing with issues of identity, gender expectations, personal relationships, and what it means to be a friend.  

Part of what they are learning is how to be at peace with their differences.  Part of what they are struggling with is the idea that you can be interested in something else but still be friends.  Sometimes your friend does something best, and sometimes you do.   What they struggle with is what many of us well into our lives struggle with – how to respect one ’s self; and how to respect others.

This week thousands of girls across Chicagoland are becoming girls on the run for the first time.  In their practices they will get to know each other and start the process of becoming a team.   As the week progresses, our second lesson is a gift that once learned, can benefit a girl (or a boy for that matter) for the rest of her life.

It is about promises. 

It is a promise to respect yourself and others.

And although our promises seem simple on the page and easy when things are going well, it is when life presents you with a challenge, when they are hardest to live every day, is when they become so much more important.

I respect others by:

• Being honest.
• Obeying authority.
• Being encouraging and helpful.
• Listening well and not spreading gossip.
• Respecting other people’s things.
• Showing gratitude for what others do for me.
• Serving my community.

I respect myself by:

• Standing up for myself and my values.
• Making responsible choices.
• Always trying my best.
• Expressing my feelings.
• Being positive.
• Exercising regularly and eating and sleeping well.
• Completing my schoolwork.

With respect to self and others our girls gain confidence that they are ok as they are and provides understanding that if you demonstrate respect – you deserve respect in kind.  Once internalized, expecting respect from those around you makes it harder to accept friendships and relationships in your life where this is absent.   And we abandon the notion of allowing “nice” and “accommodating” to stand in for the genuine respect we deserve and should demonstrate.

Think about the list above.  How would our lives change if this week we made the same promises our girls will make?  How would the world change if this is how we all showed up each day?

I promise to respect myself and others.   I am a girl on the run.

Run with a purpose

By Kris Smart, Executive Director

Toeing the line in Grant Park is like no other place on earth, especially when the start line looming in the distance says “Bank of America Chicago Marathon”. It has been my blessing over the last two years to be on Columbus Drive walking over the crumpled up sweatshirts and t-shirts of my fellow Chicagoans, moving forward with 45,000 of my close personal friends toward the beginning of such a life-changing and magnificent journey with Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run“ as our soundtrack.

Each year, the excitement and nervousness well deep in my spine. But as I begin my slow march to start, the feeling becomes an overwhelming calm, knowing I am doing something for myself, but also that I will be completing a 26.2 mile journey in service of others.

In those final moments before we start, I think about my singlet–who I wear it for, and how her words “Smell You Later” ironed on to the back give me the strength of purpose to continue forward. This is not something that I aim to do just for myself but for those in whose name I run, and for my daughter, age 8, who will be at miles 11 and 19 and at the finish in her Adventure Time hat with her big purple microphone cheering me and the whole city on.

Run with a purpose, I think. Run for something larger than me. Run for her, so that she will see that her mom can do something extraordinary, something that even a few years ago, she would have thought out of her reach.

The gun goes off long before I cross the threshold, and we joke that the Elite runners must have blown through the first 5k already. As we come alongside the Art Institute, I take my throw-away gloves off, fold them together and toss them to the side of the road, hoping they find a new home on the hands of someone in need, and I begin to run.

This is an amazing city. You don’t quite know how remarkable it is until you run through the streets and neighborhoods. In a cab or on the sidewalk surrounded by cars, you do not appreciate the silence, the true canyon lands of State Street, Jackson and LaSalle. Only on foot do you notice the rolling hills that are in Lincoln Park near the zoo. On Marathon Day, Boystown comes alive and provides energy at mile 8 that you need to keep you going to mile 10, where there is Elvis.

At mile 11, I see my daughter. She holds up her sign, cheers me on and tells me she is so proud. I go through the city past the Sears Tower. Out west through Charity Row in my charity runner singlet – everyone cheers just for you – no matter if you raised money to support their mission or another cause – everyone cheers just for you, and they call your name, and let you know you are more than halfway there.

The course extends out like a ribbon to the United Center, then back through Little Italy and Greektown. It’s the neighborhoods and diversity that make the city so great. People in lawn chairs sit on the sidewalk outside their houses with cowbells and make shift water stations, cheering.

Along Ashland it is desolate, but I know Pilsen is next so I pick up the pace. I want to see the colors and hear the music; I want to see my daughter’s face. She is there with my husband, ringing her own bell. She asks if I want a peanut butter sandwich. I grab it, along with a kiss and continue forward.

The streets are thick with volunteers at the aid stations, all smiles, with bands playing and piñatas. I move forward, excited at the prospect of what I get to see. We run through an industrial area, that once was empty but now the street is lined with people – somehow knowing exactly where runners need a lift, and I am lifted by their cheers all the way to Chinatown. Through the gate, I am recognized by a bystander I do not know, but I stop to get a hug and take a photo.

Under the freeway into Bridgeport, it starts to hurt; there is a throbbing pain in my leg that gets worse when I walk, so I don’t. I run. Sox Park is in the distance, and some older ladies on Wentworth Avenue are sitting in folding chairs, drinking beer and shouting “You just keep going!”

At the turn onto Michigan Avenue, a man stands at the apex of the corner; he is preaching “You are amazing. You’ve got this. I know you hurt. I know it has been a long way. I know it. You got this. You are going to finish.” I do hurt. It has been a long way. But I got this. I am going to finish.

Throughout the day, people run up beside me and ask “Who are you running for?” or “Tell me your story.” And I do. I explain the words on the back of my jersey, what they mean, how it feels to run for someone other than myself. I talk and then listen, because people who ask have a story themselves, and having a few minutes to run alongside another person helps the miles click by. 

Up Michigan Avenue I look for the blue fencing, and I always misjudge when it will come into view. It is farther away than I think it should be. Finally, I see flags line the course and a huge video screen at the end of the block. The cheering starts to get louder and I see the sign for Roosevelt Road.

That turn means my journey, started many months before, years even, is about to come to an end. I run up the hill even though my leg hurts and my body is tired. I run toward the 26-mile mark, and turn onto Columbus Drive once again. I pick up speed (although the photos say otherwise) and look for the faces in the crowd that belong to me as I cross the finish.

The moment at the end is joy, relief, and peace.

A smile crosses my face; I feel elated.

“Never again” I say, and I mean it for up to 45 minutes, maybe a whole hour, before I recall how it feels to run through these streets and I long for that feeling again, just once more, maybe if I train harder I can knock off a few minutes from my time.

Run for someone. Every day that I lace up my shoes, head out on a run weaving in and out of my neighborhood towards my beloved lake to the frozen beaches, I run for me. But on Marathon Day, I run for something larger than myself.

I run for her.

As you think about your own journey remember that you don’t have to go it alone. You can bring along the hopes and the aspirations of another. You can make your journey one that lasts beyond a single day or year. You can create in someone else the feeling that they can do what they set out to do – that the world is not one constrained by limits.

Running a marathon is hard; I am telling you right now, it is hard work. But running a marathon for someone else, well, that makes the work just a little bit easier, and the medal shine a little bit brighter.

The Bank of America Chicago Marathon is like no other race in the world. It is Chicago. It is our neighborhoods. It is our streets. It is not as flat as people would lead you to believe. And it is a life-changing, amazing journey.

If you choose to take this journey, I hope you will consider running for Girls on the Run- Chicago as one of our SoleMates. Raising money for Girls on the Run means that with every step you take towards your finish line, you are helping girls receive scholarships that allow them to participate in our program so they can reach their own personal goals and aspirations.

Registration for the Bank of America Chicago Marathon opens on February 19 at noon. Contact Cindy to sign up as a SoleMate, and we will be there for you with our Adventure Time hats and our giant purple microphones cheering you on all the way to the finish line.

SoleMates Will Change Your Life Too

On October 9, 2011, 45,000 runners will lace up their shoes for one incredible event: The Bank of America Chicago Marathon. The race is sold out, but you still have until June 30th to become one of those runners by running with Girls on the Run.

Girls on the Run – SoleMates is proud to be a charity partner of the Bank of America Chicago Marathon, and the 5375 girls who completed our fabulous after school program this year need you to run for them! Your race will help more girls become joyful, healthy and confident through Girls on the Run. Please visit our SoleMates website for more information about special incentives for our runners.  AND, between now and June 30th, the race entry fee is only $26! 

 Becoming a SoleMate will change your life too. You can find out more about SoleMates and what it brings to runners in these posts:

As If You Needed Another Reason to Join SoleMates: SoleMates Incentives

Running Makes Me Awesome by Charlotte Schultz, Program & Charity Athlete Coordinator 

Running Makes Me Feel Invincible by Tiffany Choi, SoleMate 

Running Makes Me Free by Suzanne Martin, SoleMate 

Running Makes Me Uplifted by Sarah Broderick, SoleMate 

Running Makes Me Tough by Lauren Kaminsky, SoleMate

Lessons From the Girls by Cindy Firman, SoleMate

Running Makes Me Grateful by Katie Gillman, SoleMate

Work It Out

There are days when, for whatever reason, a workout does not sound appealing.  It might not even be one of your more challenging workouts.  You just don’t want to do it.  You make excuses, find other things to do, anything to avoid that 30 minute run or hour-long spin class.

If you’re anything like me, afterwards you feel incredibly guilty for that skipped workout, and end up wishing you’d just done it.

When your heels are dragging and the couch is calling, here are some of the best ways to get out there anyway:

• Plan ahead.  If you want to work out in the morning, lay out all your clothes and gear the night before.  Anything extra you have to do in the morning just gives you more time to make excuses and bargain with yourself!  If you’re hoping to hit the gym or the trails after work, pack your bag and put it in your car or by the door the night before.
• Enlist a buddy.  Make plans with a friend to meet for a morning run, evening swim, or fitness class at the gym.  Knowing that someone else is counting on you might be just the encouragement you need to get going.
• Get dressed for your workout.  If you’re debating whether you should work out or not, get dressed.  Put on your favorite running clothes and pull on your shoes.  Once you’re dressed and ready to go, it’s a little easier to get out the door.

Running Makes Me Grateful

by Katie Gillman, SoleMate

Running makes me grateful – for my health, for my family and friends, and for my community.

No matter the distance of each training run or race, my heart is always filled with gratitude by the end.  Every step is driven by my legs, my heart, and an array of other muscles.  Without this foundation the first step would be impossible.

Each time I lace up my shoes, I’m reminded of the support and love of my family and friends – inspiring me to get back out there.  After my first strides I begin to feel gratitude for each relationship I value in my life.  When did I last speak to my family? How was my husband’s day?  Do I have any visits planned with friends?  How can I give as much value as I receive from each of these relationships?

From here, my mind usually drifts to gratitude for my community while I appreciate the peaceful nature, wailing taxi cabs or cheers from the sports teams at the lakefront, depending on my route.  I consider what I can do to make my community healthier, happier and stronger – giving back a little of what this world class city has provided to me.

It was at this point in 2010 when I made the commitment to become a Girls on the Run Chicago SoleMate.  After one year, a ½ marathon race and more than $1,700 in fundraising support from family and friends – I’m grateful for my running, Girls on the Run and the ability to make a difference in the lives of young girls throughout Chicagoland.