I've been in this sport a long time.  I don't really like to admit it; but, it's been over 35 years.  I've had the opportunity to run in hundreds of races.  And, man - race day is a blast.  The anticipation of the start.  The satisfaction of a hard, honest effort.  And, the camaraderie with fellow runners in celebration after the race.

But, I've found that there's another great way to enjoy race day - it's by giving back.  Chip clipper.  Registration table worker.  Course monitor.  Water Hander Outer.  Announcer.  Race Director.  Set up and take down laborer.  Committee member.  Cheerleader.  I've done all these jobs (and more) and have had a blast just about every time.  I've met new people.  I've seen the joy on people's faces as they cross the finish line.  I've had the satisfaction of knowing that my efforts help folks on their path to a fit, active and healthy lifestyle.

For the last 6 editions of the Missoula Marathon, I would come into Missoula from Plains and spend the long weekend helping out wherever I could.  It was amazing to see the energy and excitement that surrounded marathon weekend.  By the end of the day Sunday, I would be exhausted - more than once I had to stop en-route home to Plains for a nap before continuing my drive.  But, I was also amazingly energized by the experience.  In fact, those weekends of volunteering at the marathon were a large factor in my decision to step into the role as RWM Executive Director and Missoula Marathon Race Director.

And, I would encourage you to find that same satisfaction in giving back to the sport and to the club.  Remember, it's YOUR club.  And, as with most things in life, you get out of an organization what you give to that organization.  You don't have to help out at every event - but, helping out at just 1 or 2 events a year can make an enormous difference.  A difference in the quality of the events.  A difference in the energy within the club.  A difference in how you feel about your sport and your club.

A great chance to start giving back is with the Missoula Marathon.  To maintain the quality of this event - THE signature event of RWM - we need well over 800 volunteers.  If you won't be running this year, there's no reason to not be part of the volunteer corps.  Even if you are running, there are plenty of opportunities in the week leading up to the race, and even in the week following the race, where you could still help out and not impact your race day performance.  Just go to www.missoulamarathon.org and hit the Volunteer tab.

See you on the roads, tracks and trails - Tony B

On March 27, I joined 96 men and 28 other women in Manger Square in Bethlehem, the West Bank, for the Right to Movement Marathon. Right to Movement is a Danish group with a simple message: runners everywhere deserve the right to move freely. Palestinians cannot. A wall surrounds their territory; Palestinians must pass through Israeli checkpoints to leave. There are no connected roads unblocked by checkpoints for a 26.2 mile course.

The route is an out-and-back course, run twice by marathoners. It begins at the Church of the Nativity marking the spot where Christians believe Jesus was born, and winds through two refugee camps and along the graffitied wall. It turns around near a checkpoint.

Marathon morning began gloriously: marching Girl Scouts, jumping jacks, and patriotic balloons and white doves released into a clear blue sky. The first miles were equally glorious: cheering crowds, clear streets, boys waving Palestinian flags at the intersections. Running along the 18-foot wall is oppressive but also inspiring because of the resilient messages of hope and peace painted on it. Children jumped into the street to race beside me. They asked my name and exclaimed, "You are welcome." I felt I was.

The course was hot and hilly, manageable the first pass, trying the second, as temperatures soared into the 80s. About mile 17, a policeman on a motorcycle began tailing me. How dare he think I would quit! Then he sped past and guided me for the duration.

I valued his presence. I wasn't last overall but was the last Western woman running. At noon, the call to prayer began. Men dropped to their knees four abreast in the roadway outside a mosque and lowered their foreheads to the ground. I ran uncomfortably past behind my police escort, glad I had heeded organizers' advice to dress conservatively. I had railed that men could run coolly in shorts and singlets but now appreciated my more modest attire.

Closed roads reopened. At mile 24, my escort and I squeezed through four lanes of traffic. Women in head scarves clanged cow bells. A man yelled, "You're still out here? You are a miracle!"

The real miracle became my ascent of the last steep cobblestone hill the final tenth mile. Hot and exhausted, I wanted to stop being the inspiring role model of an older female runner and walk. But the crowd would not let me. Shopkeepers and runners with their finishers medals cheered me up the hill to Manger Square. I, we, did it!