The Transition to the Summit

                                          
No, I don't mean the N. Korea Summit or the summit of peak. I'm talking about The Summit fitness facility. It opened when I was elementary school as "Second Wind." My best friend had a birthday party at their pool and I remember the ripping of gift wrap (it was pre gift bag) in the lobby-type area. Since then, the place has grown and it has been updated significantly. In 2009 when I returned to Kalispell I planned to work on my own physical well being, work in education, care for my mom, and perhaps coach, in that order.

I found my education job and it wasn't long before I started to coach; girls' middle school basketball, then cross country and finally track and field, hurdles, both boys' and girls. Oh, and I did the morning crosswalk duty at Hedges one year. My mom laughed when I said one of the reasons I came home was to help with her as she aged. She told me she was just fine, then.

As my love for coaching grew and my mother's decline began for real. I retired from my classroom job but continued coaching the running sports; cross country and track. More time went to my mom, then. We took great outings, shopped, saw doctors and physical therapists; first quite often, then less and less. Shirley passed recently so Mom-duty is done and the single season I coach is only six weeks so I have loads of time to fill.

Now, exercise is what I do even though I'm not training for a race. My personal fitness routine is for different reasons and I am in charge of how and when I do it. As an athlete I have always had a coach. Physical therapists worked with me to overcome injuries but now I am alone in my quest to stay fit.

Exercise, now, is to maintain my regained abilities. As a former pretty-good collegiate athlete you would think exercising would be second nature but I have never really liked it. What I did like was winning so that's why I trained.

Prior to joining a gym, I attended a Silver Sneakers exercise class in the basement of Sykes, a local diner that's been here for eons. Attendees were mostly older than me, no, they were all older than me. But when the instructor decided to take her life in a different direction and classes ended, I decided to join The Summit.

Since my head injury my go-to exercise has been water aerobics. I feel free, submerged in water, and can actually run although it is in slow motion and there is no finish line. Plus, if I fall I don't get hurt. The Summit has two pools so I joined.

The Summit has been a delight and has added to my life experiences positively. I go to the gym at least 3 days a week but have a specific class I can attend each day, me with my rollator (better known as a walker.) My high tech rollator is a badge of honor in the gym because others are automatically impressed that someone with, what appear to be, life long issues still "tries." No one wants to be the one to trip me up because how would that look? Not good. Patrons give me ample room!

Carol, my neighbor turned exercise partner, did Silver Sneakers with me and also joined The Summit so we remain partners. Companionship in these situations leads to more accountability for sure. They offer various classes for all levels of fitness and, as in my case, different capabilities period. We started with a Flex and Balance class because it was similar to Silver Sneakers and we knew we were capable of that.  Also, after caring for my mom, I see how important it is to remain social. The partner thing covers that issue as well as the people we have met.

Another class I do is called "Foam Roller."  My neighbor-exercise partner tapped out after trying it once (she doesn't like getting on the floor) so I enjoy that alone. The formal name for fumbling on the floor with a long piece of foam is self-myofascial release; a fancy way to say you are massaging your own self to release muscle tightness. I like it because the lights are dimmed and it is relaxing. And, because of my oddities, the majority of my upper body muscles are tied in double knots just like those I used to tie my toddlers' shoe laces.

To round out my exercise routine at the gym I do water aerobics a couple times a week. While still in the hospital my physical therapist put me in the pool and I loved it. In water I feel free and if I fall I can't hurt myself.

So that is Lexie, right now. Flailing about in chest deep water trying to move to a blasting beat, chair exercises to work on my declining balance with retired seniors that include my 4th grade teacher, a Catholic nun who taught my older brother and a kind couple who got me involved with my first coffee group!

East Grandstand at Hayward Field

The east grandstands at Hayward Field are going to be removed, as I understand, to make way for an ultra modern stadium surrounding the famous track. I ran on this track during my college years in the early 80s.

     


Competing as a Duck, I trained on that track daily for four years; both winning and placing. I took victory laps just inside the rail and even set some school records there. But my tie to those east stands is not very strong. One particular memory of those stands is crystal clear. I see my coach Mark behind the waist high wall, his long, skinny self leaning out, seemingly over the outside lane. I heard his cheers both at the start and mid race.

I was running the 800 meters as a rabbit during an evening Prefontaine classic. My best event was the 400 meter hurdles so maybe they thought I could lead them out fast for the first lap. I knew the rabbit usually drops out after they do there job but that was never discussed so I finished. Finishing last was not what I was use to but as the rabbit that's the way it went.

The other memory I have of those stands is of the men's team and Coach Dellinger. A couple of us "girls" were training for the first half of the 400 meter hurdles directly in front of those grandstands. Dellinger and some of his athletes approached us and without pause the famous coach shouted to get off his track so his men could work out. Although we were angry, we moved to the other side of the oval. I can still hear his words.

I saw the throwers coming and going from what I assumed were the rooms below those old, decrepit stands but the sprinter/jumper/hurdler part of the team did our non track work under the newer stands across the track. We had a long jump pit, medicine balls and hurdles under our stands but I never saw what was below the East stands.

Attending the 2012 Olympic Trials, I walked behind and kind of under the structure, and was shocked. It was clean, there were concessions and the grandstands themselves felt far more sturdy than they had when I ran as a Duck. I sat in those East stands alone, about five rows up and it was pretty cool. The spectators were so close to the competitors; you thought you might be able to reach out and touch the runners. I had little experience as a spectator, but I knew this track was special. The next day, I sat in the cordoned off area reserved for important people. My friends, Kip and Jody, somehow got Duck teammate Lisa, and I "in." Sitting there to watch the races was great but I preferred the home stretch and my last day there I found someone willing to let me sit near the start. There was a handicapped section above the 100 meter and short hurdles' start line and the woman observed my knee brace and hobble and determined I was indeed handicapped.

My next experience at Hayward was in 2014 when my husband Dan and I walked onto the track and into the infield just to look around. Soon after our arrival we were approached by a coach type person who told us it was a closed facility and we needed to leave. I was at loss for words but Dan simply said that we were on campus because I was to be inducted into their Hall of Fame that evening. I'm sure the coach had no idea who I was or had been but he backed away telling us to enjoy ourselves.

Yes, I understand wanting those old stands to remain as part of the up date, but I also understand the desire to modernize. I feel fortunate that, when it is all said and done, I'll be able to say I ran at Hayward, in the olden days. It is home of the best track fans in the country and I feel fortunate to have been on those receiving end of that encouragement.