Monday, July 18, 2011

THE STARTING LINE

The post below was written by Race Director - Dave Rhody in May 1992 for City Sports Magazine - it still holds true today.               

In the days and weeks that follow the production of a major event snapshot images of the event parade through my head waiting to be understood or at least to be recognized. The quick question/answer exchanges with participants, the short-lived satisfaction when the start banner is finally hung straight, and the glimpse of sunrise that stirs a small wish to stop and enjoy it. While these impressions are easily sorted and filed under "pre-start" in my event memories catalog, there is one recurring impression that raises too many questions to be filed away.

At nearly every event I've been involved over the years -- cycling events, running events, multi-sport events and walking events -- there is a moment just before the start when I'm on a scaffolding above the crowd of participants. Whether the crowd is 1,000 or 10,000 people, I always have a flash of amazement. "All these people here to do the same thing at the same time on the same course." And, then a sudden stream of questions:  "Who are these people? What are they? And, what do they want?"

The impatient faces in the starting line crowd waiting for me to say "go" stop me from any on-the-spot analysis, but the questions linger. In the office, between events, I find myself answering similar questions to the satisfaction of sponsors, permit authorities and the press.  Upscale demographics -- median income, education level, and occupations -- define the market that runners, cyclists, walkers, etc. represent for sponsors.  Behavioral generalizations -- neat, law-abiding, and responsible -- satisfy permit authorities. And, buzz-phrases like "fitness-conscious" people, the "running community" or "serious-minded cyclists" give the press the handles they want. But, like a glossy wrapping stamped with an oversimplified list of ingredients these references fail to tell us the true nature of the package's contents.

Off the starting line, out of the office and between events I do find a few additional and still incomplete answers. Event participants are, according to the simplest definitions, community. The more specific we are about the event the more it is true that the crowd is made up of "people with common interests living in a particular area."  As a group, event participants have parts of a lifestyle in common.  They share certain attitudes. They define their status with regard to their position in the group, i.e. 213th overall finisher, CAT-4 cyclist, or "top 5 in my age group."  And, while all this provides some common threads of the aggregate that event participants make-up, it still does not explain the end-result of coming together.

The deeper purpose that mystifies me at the start of an event -- "what do these people want?" -- escapes pigeon-holing and eludes social analysis.  Because it seems most concentrated at the starting line, I continue to look there. The mix of the crowd's pre-event adrenaline can almost be tasted in the air. An anxious silence blankets participants. I see people wide-eyed and almost holding their breath in anticipation. Is that it? The mutual rush of self-doubt. The shared gut-feeling of an impending challenge. The excitement/anxiety of facing a personal test among peers. If that is an answer, it only helps point to the bigger question of the relationship. What, if anything, does this instant community mean.

The question persists for me perhaps because so few event participants that I've talked with have expressed clear thoughts about this subject. I hear individual reasons for being a participant, but little big-picture perspective. It has occurred to me that the can't-see-the-forest-through-the-trees syndrome may apply. The woods are defined by the meadow that surround them. So, this community of like-minded participants might be seen most clearly by non-participants around them.

Though out-numbered 20 to 1 by participants the volunteer workers at events do, in a way, surround participants. They help prepare participants pre-race. They are at every turn in the road. They welcome athletes at the finish line.  And, they tend to participant's post-race needs. Yet they are technically not (at least during the event they're working on) participants. The Russians have a great word for such people, "poputchik."  A poputchik is "one who sympathizes with and often furthers the ideals and programs of organized groups without direct participation or membership."  Our closest english equivalent is "fellow traveler." 

In many cases event poputchiks are there for the sake of the event's cause. They are volunteers from the charity that benefits. But, over the years I have had the pleasure of getting to know hundreds of people who are ready and willing to work on any event. These poputchiks enjoy  associating with "the community" they witness at each event. From outside the forest they see the common bond of purpose, the unity of shared experience and the total energy that is larger than the sum of its parts. They see it. They support it. And, they keep coming back for more.

The event poputchiks help me confirm the sense I have had of a participant community. By seeing it, they let me know it's there, which leaves me wondering just one other thing. If you, as participants, can, with some additional prompting, see and feel a sense of community, what else can you do? If you can acknowledge a link between your lifestyle and that of your fellow participants, can you also agree to a mutually beneficial relationship?  I like that idea. And, I'll be thinking about it the next time I'm collecting impressions of you from the starting line.



-Dave Rhody

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