Essay Contest Winner: Nikkei Meline

We'd like to offer our congratulations, once again, to Nikkei Meline on her winning essay. Well done, Nikkei! Check out NW Runner for the print publication of this essay.

Marathons and Motherhood: The Diathlon

Nikkei Meline


“Half or whole?”

That is the question I asked my first-grade daughter this morning when I made her sandwich for lunch, and it is the question I asked myself when I contemplated registering for the Windermere Marathon. My daughter answered, “Half.” I answered, “Whole!” My daughter is smarter than me. She sets achievable goals. I simultaneously underestimate the requirements of a task and overestimate my capacity to meet them.

The truth is that I run to get away from my kids, literally, and some days 26.2 miles doesn’t seem far enough. When I begin training, it’s impossible to get even two miles away—impossible because after only 1.5 miles, the always-smiling daycare attendant at the Y sidles up to the treadmill and taps me on the elbow to tell me that my baby’s diaper needs to be changed. Because after going to sleep at midnight and waking up to nurse the baby at 2 AM and again at 4, I choose to stay in bed at 6 rather than get up to get my run in. Because 9.999999 times out of 10, I’d rather not run at all than run behind my baby and toddler in the jogger. I love irony, but not so much that I’m amused by pushing two kids ahead of my every footfall when the reason I’m running is to get away, not to chase after them.

Marathons and parenthood are both endurance sports. The need for endurance in each is obvious, though I suspect that the sport is more often at my expense than on my behalf. Those with experience or natural-born talent make it look so easy, so rewarding. The rest of us have to get around the training curve, the curve that never seems to straighten out. Thank goodness for the accumulated wisdom and support in the blogosphere. Thank goodness for the always-smiling daycare attendant at the Y, even as she cheerfully enforces the 10-minute cry rule. At least she provided the motivation for me to get my pace under 10 minutes per mile—I could check the kids in, run to the treadmill, and get at least one mile in before I had to stop because the kids had cried the whole time.

Anyone who paid attention during the elementary school birds and bees presentation knows about the moment when one becomes committed to parenthood. For a marathon, the moment of commitment is the registration. I’m always tempted to wait to register after my training is completed, but if I actually did that, I’d never even start my training. So during the dead of winter, I registered for a May race, the Windermere Marathon. A busy parent learns to streamline errands and strive for efficiency, and I was on a roll: I also registered for the Rock ‘n’ Roll Seattle Marathon in June. I was determined to save time and get two marathons out of one fantastic training season. Except that the training season wasn’t so fantastic.

I had a sixteen-week schedule to do in fifteen weeks, one that I’d used when training for my first marathon, after baby #3, before baby #4. I had registered for that marathon, St. George, in Utah, mostly out of curiosity. I only got to run the race because my name was drawn in their lottery, and perhaps I never would have followed through if I hadn’t won my spot. I knew that there were thousands of runners all over the country who were disappointed that their names weren’t drawn, and that starving-kids-in-Africa-type guilt worked its magic. What kind of ungrateful person would I be if I didn’t have the decency to finish my broccoli and finish St. George?

Guilt worked for me for St. George, but against me for Windermere. I was headed into the first of the high-mileage weeks when I took my kids, all four of them, to visit my mother in Idaho for spring break. The weather was horrible, but I was willing to run in it. After all, I had gotten off of the treadmill and into the streets in Spokane as soon as the ice broke. I was willing to run in the snow, sleet, and wind of southeastern Idaho, but I wasn’t willing to leave my mom with all the kids for at least 2 ½ hours while I did my 16-mile runs. Our vacation lasted over a week, and I missed my first two long runs. I felt demoralized, and I even resented my children for a moment. When I got back home, I decided to switch to the half marathon and focus on improving my time instead.

For me, getting to the starting line is the real battle of a marathon. Training is the hard part; the actual race is the reward. I didn’t run the full marathon, but I set a new personal record in the half. I smiled to myself when I picked up my “Inaugural Competitor” shirt. Competitor? Me? Well, I suppose so. I compete against myself, against my current best time. I compete against icy roads, dark mornings, sore ankles, vacations for the kids, sleep deprivation, pregnancy, breastfeeding, housekeeping, and all the various and sundry needs of my children. Somehow I manage. I run for my mental health; I run for my life. I run to get away, but I always come back—smelling worse but feeling better.

Runner Up: Austin Henderson

Balancing Act
Austin Henderson

While running, I noticed I was strangely isolated, even in a herd of people. The only view of another runner I saw was of their back; not once did I see another face. A marathon runner told me that during the race she had spent over three hours running with a man, but afterwards wouldn’t have been able to identify his face.

Around halfway through the race, I began to wish I had brought a companion. In front of me a pair of friends merrily loped, chatting as they ran. Several miles of this got me a little bit lonely; they looked so very happy and just twenty feet behind them I was languishing as my iPod headphones fizzled out from the sweat pooling inside my ears.

For me, the appeal of running is that it’s a non-competitive sport. There is no direct opponent whose success means my defeat, and the only person who really matters when deciding how I will perform is myself. So just like with almost anything in life, a balancing act emerges between achievement and enjoyment, with myself being the only acrobat on the wire.

Not that there’s much room for balancing acts at my level of ability. Had I brought a friend, my running would have been worse. I’m barely in shape enough to just run the whole course. Talking on top of that would have inevitably led to me dropping off and walking, which to me equals failure. If I had more physical capacity, I might reach a level where I could both run the marathon and enjoy myself. While I was running, it became obvious that I had not reached that level. My shoulders, my feet, my knees, and my gut all ached, and I was lost in motion, dizzy in the sun. All I could do was follow the two friends running in front of me.

They kept perfect pace, always in front and confident in their strides. As long as I kept them right there, I knew I would be okay. I didn’t need direct companionship or support: merely keeping up with a couple of people who looked like real athletes drove me. Just as being in a class with a valedictorian can inspire an underachieving student, I saw my own potential through them. That spurred me to ignore the pain, cease dwelling on my self-pity and loneliness, and just run.

Around mile ten or eleven, the friends split up, one of them cruising off at an absurd pace and the other slowing down a little bit. This was the farthest I had ever run in my life and for some reason I felt great. It felt wrong in a way to pass the slower of the pair, because without her I would’ve been walking a few miles behind, sucking energy gel out of defeated hands. I’m sure she didn’t care at all and didn’t even know me; she had never turned around to see the faces of those following her. Passing her meant the collapse of my symbol – the ideal runner I’d created in front of me was not actually faster or stronger than me. Or maybe, I thought, she was truly better, but decided to slow down and listen to the river.

Runner Up: Todd Rogers

An Old Man and His Son
By Todd Rogers

We will never be the same. The completion of the Windermere Half Marathon was much more than a 13.1 mile run for me and my son Jon. It was more than the achievement of a goal; it was a milestone in the life of two people.

In April of 2008, my 16-year-old son and I were preparing to participate in a Boy Scout high adventure program in Florida. The program required that all participants were 250 pounds or less. This presented a problem – not for me, but for my son. He was over six feet tall but tipped the scales at 258 pounds. He has always been active and agile, yet carried too much weight. The directors of the program waived the requirement since he was able to demonstrate that his weight did not prevent him from performing all of the necessary tasks of the program. But that was it: Jon had had enough. Though he was very popular, well liked, and excelled academically, his self-image was suffering. Jon embarked on a journey of wellness. He modified his diet and started a very strict workout program. It was not long before the results began to show. They were demonstrated not only by the physical changes that were slowly but surely taking place, but by the emotional and psychological changes.

On the other hand, there’s me. I will be 50 this year. Not over the hill, but not a spring chicken either. I have always made an effort to maintain a good level of fitness, whatever that means. I was five feet 11 inches tall and tipped the scales at about 195 pounds. One day last winter, a guy at the gym was handing out flyers for the Windermere Marathon and Half Marathon. After several days of consideration, I approached Jon with a proposition. I suggested that he and I run the half marathon together. He embraced the challenge, and our fitness journeys merged.

Through the rest of the winter, which as you know was longer than usual, we prepared on our own. Jon continued with his careful eating and regular trips to the gym. I continued to go the gym, but was not so careful with the eating. When the spring weather finally allowed us to run outside, we did our weekly long runs together. Jon struggled in the beginning when we hit the seven- and eight-mile marks. When we ran over ten miles, I would have to encourage him for the last few. We put in our time and made the necessary preparations. We felt ready.

As the day of the run approached, we were a little nervous but quietly confident that we would manage. Jon had grown some; now he was over 6 feet 3 inches tall, and weighed just under 190 pounds – yes, 190. He had lost 70 pounds and grown an inch. The only thing that stayed the same was his size 15 shoe. I’m not chopped liver – I lost five pounds. (I didn’t grow any, though).

The day of the run, we arrived with a group of six of our friends, ranging in age from mid-twenties to one old man of 49 (me). Jon and I started well back in the pack. We were farther back than all of our friends. The mass of people moved very slowly and we watched as the people we knew stretched out farther and farther ahead of us. The temperature was perfect, nice and cool, with clear skies. Jon and I kept what felt like a good pace. I joked with him that anyone could run 13.1 miles in a size 9 shoe, but doing it with a size 15 shoe would be a real FEET. The fourth, seventh, tenth, and eleventh miles were important, because those were the miles where we passed the other members of our group of six.

After mile nine I was exhausted, but Jon seemed to have no limit of reserve energy. I encouraged him to leave me in the fetal position along the way, but he would not do it. He reminded me that we had started this journey together and we would finish it together. That is exactly what we did. We finished in 1 hour, 52 minutes. I believe that Jon was the youngest male and possibly the youngest person to run the half marathon.

I cannot begin to express how it makes a father feel to be so close to a transformation in one of his children. I love this boy, and I always have, and always will for that matter. The experience of seeing him blossom and watching his self-image change for the better is one of the most rewarding I have ever had. In the race photos, if you look for bib #2499, you’ll see an old man – and that good-looking young man with him is his son.

Runner Up: Jill Josquin

Fat, Fortyish, and Fabulous
By Jill Josquin

If you looked at me, you wouldn’t think I was a runner. You might not even think I’m in very good shape – but I can run a mean ten- to eleven-minute mile. Yes, that’s right—a ten- to eleven-minute mile. My twelve-year-old son informed me that was rather slow, but I was not discouraged because I can run that ten- to eleven-minute mile for just one mile or for 13.1 miles, as I did on May 16th at the inaugural Windermere Marathon and Half Marathon in Spokane.

My journey to run a half marathon began in December 2008. As I was waiting to check in at the Spokane Valley YMCA, I noticed the Windermere Marathon brochure and saw that the YMCA was offering training. Well, thirty years and thirty pounds ago, I was a competitive high school distance runner. I still love running, yet my body can no longer take the pounding of a daily training regimen. I decided I should do this training because I hadn’t had a coach since high school and each year I talk about getting in shape to run a half marathon. I signed up! Keats McGonigal of the YMCA organized our training schedules and training groups. We met each Saturday morning and did the other training on our own. The training with others of similar ability inspired me to work hard toward my goal of “running” the entire distance of 13.1 miles.

The week of the race, I came down with a cold, so I only went for two runs. On race day, I was slightly congested, but hey, I had the right shoes, the right gear, and most importantly the right attitude. I was determined that I would move my feet forward in a jogging motion for the entire 13.1 miles. I refused to wear a watch because I know how to pace and I didn’t want the obsessive-compulsive runner I am to take over my race.

The gun went off, and off we went, mile one, mile two. What? Mile marker two again? There was a slight error in the mile markers; mile two was posted both at mile two and at mile three. Yes, that’s right, but I can add and run too. The rest of the race I knew that when I saw a mile marker, I needed to add one. At the second mile two marker, my training partner said, “We went out too fast!” She wore her watch. I told her not to worry, that to be a minute faster per mile on race day for a distance event isn’t a big deal. I hoped I was right. It was a gorgeous day and a beautiful course. While running mile after mile, I took in the sights: blooming trees, wild flowers, the sound of the river rushing by, and geese tending to their newly hatched goslings.

I finished the race in Spokane’s Riverfront Park after running continually for two hours and nineteen minutes—a mean ten- to eleven-minute mile pace. I was thrilled! My twelve-year-old son and my husband met me at the finish line. Even my son was impressed by my speed. While he could surely beat me at one mile, he couldn’t beat me at 13.1. Yes, I am proud of myself; I am fat, fortyish, and fabulous.

Summer reading is on the way

We are very excited to announce that Nikkei Meline's winning essay will be published in the next issue of Northwest Runner. Pick up a copy on July 15th.

Nikkei's essay, along with the essays written by the runners up, will be published to the blog the week of July 22.

We Have A Win-ah!

(We also have a bad Winston Churchill impression).

Cue theme music.

As we were reading through all of your submissions, we noticed a common thread in those of you who included a little email. Seems you all either had a blast writing, or--even better--had a rewarding time writing essays to us. Several of you said that even if you didn't win anything, writing about the marathon gave you a neat sense of fulfillment. That's great. We're very, very happy that you wrote, and loved evaluating all the submissions. Thanks guys!

Aaaaand on to the prizes!

Er, prize.

Nikkei Meline receives our grand prize (and highest compliments!) for her essay, "All's Well that Ends Well." The judges were unanimous; we love it. We'd tell you that you just have to read it, it's amazing, but of course you will read it, either in the swank little publication we call InRoads, or in an upcoming issue of Northwest Runner magazine. In addition to the wealth of bragging rights that come with being a published essayist, Nikkei also wins next year's race entry fee, not a bad chunk of cash at all. Congratulations Nikkei!

Then there were three essays that were close to winning, and while we hadn't planned a category for them, we feel very strongly that we should mention our

Runners Up (We know. It's a pun. We're brilliant.) Please applaud for Austin Henderson, Jill Josquin, and Todd Rogers, all of whom made the judging process a challenge. Well done!

That's it! Keep running this summer, and, of course, keep writing!

--Team Windermuse

Winners in a Week!

We here at Team Windermuse have not slept in days. We subsist entirely on diet soda and cheesy fries. We never leave our rooms.

We're reading your submissions.

A big thanks to everyone who submitted! We're giving each entry three separate reads, evaluating based on our judging criteria (below) and then debating it hotly as a group. Should be a lot of fun, from which one and only one entry will emerge victorious.

It's probably yours, right? Check back in on Friday, 12 June 2009 for the official announcement.

Good luck!

Tips!

Boy are you ever lucky that you keep checking this blog. Not only do we have another killer pump-up video for you (here!), but we've also managed to throw together some crazy protips to help your writing along. These should give you the necessary edge to beat out all the other Windermusers out there. Cool, huh?

And if this is your first time here, be sure to scroll down for our Submission Guidelines, Judging Rubric, and Further Videos of 80s Men in Tight Pants.

Tip Sheet

1. Consider your audience. The judges are looking for essays thatwhich will attract all kinds of adult readers, not just runners.

2. Good nonfiction transcends the experiences and connects to something bigger. Think of an interesting way to share your experience with someone who wasn’t at the race and who didn’t participate in any way. What elements of your experience can you use to connect to a larger audience?

3. Obviously, the race happened in chronological order, and, if you’re a runner, training for it did, too. But what other important things contributed to your being involved with the Windermere marathon? Including those details can could help an give your essay have more depth.

4. After you write a rough draft, put the essay away for a few days and then read it again with a more critical perspective. As you re-read, think about each detail and ask yourself these questions: Why is this detail in my essay? Does this detail serve the overall meaning and form of my essay? What extra words can I take out and still have the same meaning?

5. Read the essay to out loud to yourself. This will help you catch grammatical errors and awkward sentences.

6. Finally, ask a friend to read over your work, looking for anything that’s unclear, not needed, or mechanically incorrect.

dat dat DUN: Submission Guidelines!

Fresh from the eloquent Windermuse Submission Guidelines Committee comes the 2009 Windermuse Submission Guidelines. Be sure to read these closely and to send us questions (windermuse (at) gmail (dot) com) if you have any. Also see previous posts for Free Workshops and Bad Examples.

Sound fun? Oh, it is. Feel like another pump-up video? Oh, very well. Now read those guidelines!

Windermuse 2009 Essay Contest Guidelines

Eligibility

To be eligible to submit, essayists must have been involved in some way with the Windermere Marathon on May 16, 2009. Runners, spectators, volunteers, and supporters are all welcome to submit essays. Essays must be 500-1000 words and must be submitted via email as .rtf or .doc attachments to Windermuse@gmail.com by high noon on June 1, 2009. Please include contact info (name, mailing address, email address, and phone number) in the body of your email. Your name and other information should not appear on your submission attachment. Faculty and graduate students affiliated with Eastern Washington University’s Inland Northwest Center for Writers are ineligible.

Submission Guidelines

Making it across the finish line means much more than just showing up on race day. Being involved with a race – as a runner, spectator, supporter, or volunteer – leads to new experiences and usually a lot of time to think about life beyond running shoes and mile markers. What about this marathon experience struck you as particularly stimulating? What resonates with other aspects of your life? What do you want your story to tell others? Share your Windermere Marathon or Half Marathon experiences in a 500-1000 word nonfiction essay. Essays should appeal to an audience that extends beyond the racing community. Essays should also be full of fresh ideas and clear, original prose. Please do not submit a mile-by-mile account of your race experience.

Judging Criteria

Essays submitted to the Windermuse essay contest will be judged by a committee of creative writing graduate students from the MFA program at Eastern Washington University. Winners will be selected based on the fulfillment of the criteria described below. All decisions are final. Winners will be announced on June 12, 2009 here on our blog. The winning essayist will receive free entry to next year’s Windermere Marathon. The winning essay will also be published on the Windermere Marathon website, www.windermeremarathon.com.

Essays will be judged based on these criteria:

Focus: Examines your essay’s subject. Our idea of an excellent essay is one that transcends the act of running. We want to know how your marathon experience relates to or resonates with some other aspect of life.

Originality: Looks for creativity in writing. Does your essay develop fresh ideas? The excellent essay will get at those ideas through the selection of examples, analysis and insightful reflection. Additionally, the writing will engage the reader.

Organization: Looks at the structure of your essay and the strength of the focus. Does the essay have a solid structure? Are discussion points coherently presented? The winning essay will have a clear and logical presentation of ideas and will be smoothly organized so the reader does not stumble or hesitate over their sequence.

Development and Support: Considers how well the essay’s subject progresses. The stunning essay will use relevant information, specific details, and carefully selected examples. It will not rely on narrative alone; rather, the essay will balance anecdote with thoughtful reflection.

Style and Mechanics: Examines how well the essay is written in terms of grammar, spelling and punctuation, as well as word choice and sentence construction. The excellent essay will use standard writing conventions correctly, with well-constructed sentences and no word choice errors.

Writing Protips!

Welcome to Wednesday. We here at Windermuse are sure you're using your time today prepping possible essay subjects and completing your daily writing exercises in spandex. Well done. To aid you, here are a few paragraphs detailing common mistakes and reasons to avoid them in your Windermuse contest entry. Be sure to check out our FREE writing workshops (post below) as well as our stunning submission guidelines (post above).

Paragraph #1:

"I think this race is going to be a PB for me. I can feel it; that is if I don't bonk out first. I've built up my lactate threshold over a series of months of training, and I feel strong in the May sunshine. Just another run. When I get to mile 9 and that hill I'll probably regret my decision to avoid the port-o-potties provided by the race at the starting line, but I'm not afraid to just go while I'm running if I have to. I've done it before.

"I think it's about time to pop an energy gel; wouldn't do to lose my edge. Too bad Pheidippes didn't have some of this. I like the Apple Cinnamon flavor best."

These paragraphs are full of unexplained jargon that will confuse or frustrate a non-runner. They are also completely couched in the present tense, which works well for scenes of action but doesn't allow for any insight, reflection or analysis, the qualities that will make the winning essay so beautiful.

Paragraph #2:

"Mile 1: 'I'm nervous...always nervous before a race...I tweaked my left ACL a few weeks ago training for the marathon. It sucked. I love running b/c it's a great way to keep in shape...marathons are just a goal, like how some people go skydiving, or rock climbing. I tried to establish my pace--too fast, and I'd burn out too soon--too slow and my time would suck.'

"Mile 2: 'Feeling great. My left ACL feeling pretty good. There are too many people in the way. I should have been positioned closer to the front...the hot asphalt glimmers like onyx...I find my rhythm. I'm already thirsty, but I need to wait a few miles before I dare drink anything. Lots of people turned out today for the race...I hope my times good.'"

This is a glorified race report. This isn't an essay because it is trapped in the moment, devoid of reflection. It is poorly organized and the mechanics are sloppy.

So now you know what not to do. And knowing is half the battle.

Need some practice writing?

If you’re thinking about entering the Windermuse Essay Contest, but haven’t written anything lately, EWU’s Writers in the Community is offering free writing forums for adult writers.

Saturdays in May from 2-4 PM will see workshops hosted by Writers in the Community, focusing on the use of voice in writing. May 2nd is an all comers workshop, while May 23rd is a non-fiction-oriented workshop. Workshops are free, and will be held at EWU’s Inland Northwest Center For Writers, located at 501 N. Riverpoint Boulevard, suite 435.

For directions and sigh-up information, please contact WITC Director Ross Carper at witc@ewu.edu or (509) 359-7437.

Welcome to Windermuse!

We're so glad you could make it. This site is the center of all things Windermuse, the first ever Windermere Spokane Marathon Essay Contest. On this blog you'll find everything from submission guidelines to judging rubrics to prizes. As you read this a team of undernourished and over-dedicated Eastern Washington University graduate students are slapping together the final drafts of all the info you're here to see. Check up on us soon!

Want to shoot us an email? Write whatever you like to windermuse (at) gmail (dot) com, and friendly and literary people will get back to you shortly.

Want to know more about the undernourished graduate students? Check out our hyperlinks on the right-hand side of this page for information on EWU's Master of Fine Arts program and also on Writers in the Community, the EWU internship that gets to throw things like this together.

Need a good pump-up video to get you training today? Look no further, friend. We've got that covered too.

Thanks for stopping by!