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MS. WINSPEED AT NIGHT MOVES By Sheri Bedford "Oh, my!" panted Ms. Winspeed. She was standing with the crowd at the diet Coke table, holding out her hand and studying the mug she held. Other runners crossed the 5K finish line behind us in the humid evening at Ybor City. The sound of a party filled the air. "What is it, Ms. Winspeed?", I asked. "I never thought I’d win a mug," she smiled joyfully. Her blue eyes matched her round blue earrings and running outfit. "Why not? You’ve been training regularly," I pointed out. "The mug means you were one of the first 100 women to finish. You did great!" "Yes, but this concept of age keeps me from seeing what I can really do. So I’m always surprised when I finish a race ahead of younger folks." Ms. Winspeed once again gazed at the cream colored mug with the colorful Night Moves design on it. " What a nice prize. I think I’ll drink my coffee out of it in the morning." "That’s a good idea…It’s a pretty mug. The t-shirt isn’t bad either…So how did you do in the race?" I was curious about her strategy. Being a 60 year old, Ms. Winspeed seemed unusually speedy. She had crossed the line just before me. "I ran this 5k for fun, first. I always do. I hardly ever look at my watch while I’m running…well, not for training anyway. "I guess I did take a peek during this race. It is helpful to know how each mile went." She bent her fluffy white head over her wrist and pushed the button on her watch to review the split times. "It seems I stuck close to an 8 minute mile tonight." She absolutely beamed. "That’s one of my best times ever! I did a 24:50!" "That’s great Ms. Winspeed, To what do you attribute your success?" I playfully pretended to hand her a microphone. She played along. " I have to thank my coach, Me, and my disciplinarian, Me." Ms. Winspeed’s smile broke into a grin and she giggled and handed the imaginary mike back to me. "Truthfully, dear, I don’t really have any magic secret unless its consistency. I really try to run 20 miles a week no matter what. I do it for fun, as I said. Sometimes I run slow, sometimes fast…whatever it takes to make the running time seem like play. Sometimes I even skip! "I try to talk with friends as I run. My friends are really the source of my running discipline. Without them, there are many times I might find an excuse not to run." We looked around us at the brick square with all the runners, fit, tan, chatting with each other, making new acquaintances. "That’s a big part of running isn’t it?" I asked. "The camaraderie, the support." "I think so, dear…Oh, thank you!" Ms Winspeed returned a compliment to a running friend who happened by to say "Congratulations" to her, and quickly snap her picture. Betsy Winspeed posed, mug held aloft with her serene smile lighting up her face. The band struck up a tune. Ms. Winspeed turned to me after shaking hands with her friend, the photographer. Her head tilted and she smiled once more… "Ready to dance?" Smiling up at me and putting her hand on my shoulder, she comfortingly said, "My dear, we know each other well enough now. Please call me Betsy." She glanced down again at the prize in her hand. Tearing up slightly, " I’m still fighting the thought that I’m a 60 year old has-been." Her gaze again fell to the prize. "It means a lot to me! A symbol of another challenge overcome. Yes, I think I ll drink my coffee out of it in the morning to remind me that I’m still with it, still active." I was surprised to hear the slightly down tone in Betsy Winspeed’s voice as she described her age. "You’re anything but a has-been, Ms. Win... uh, Betsy. I mean, you crossed the line in front of me, for gosh sake!" I was curious about her strategy. "You pace yourself unusually speedy." "I try to keep my reasons for running simple. I ran this 5k for fun. I try to establish a pace that feels comfortable and yet moves me ahead swiftly. "Tonight was just a pleasure. Didn’t you think so, dear? All these people running together in a friendly way, to support college athletics. A good cause and a social race. And I love to party!" "Why Ms. Winspeed, I’m shocked!" I said, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise. She giggled once more. "Well, to me, party means drink a lot of diet soda, eat a hot dog or two, and dance. It’s all about having healthy fun and making new friends while you re at it." At the brick square, people were chatting with each other, new acquaintances sharing running successes, old friends retelling past victories. All comparing times, giving advice, laughing. Obviously fully recovered, she asked, "Ready to boogie?
© Copyright by Sheri Bedford 1999
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