Well-Being Keeps Her Running Far

The time just slips away. One hour, six miles; five hours, 30 miles; eight-plus hours, 50 miles.

“I remember the first one. It was like a dream,” says Judy Novobielski-Muhs, a Harrison woman as lean and good-hearted as a greyhound. “I ran all day, almost nine hours.”

She ran. Fellow teachers at Heyburn Elementary in St. Maries wag their heads at their curly haired friend.

Judy’s husband worries she’s too thin. Judy smiles patiently. Of course they don’t understand.

“It’s my recreation and it’s such an integral part of my life,” she says. “It’s not hard for me to do.”

Judy runs farther than most people are willing to drive for a gourmet dinner. She wedges her races and training around her jobs as a special education teacher and mother to two little girls.

“I think I do my best critical thinking when I’m moving,” she says. “I sort out things, do my lesson plans, problem-solve.”

And she restores herself. Judy gleams with vitality and good spirits that she shares with everyone around her.

She wasn’t born to run. For one, she was more sturdy than scrawny. Her high school track coach in Yakima suggested she try the shot put. She was offended.

Secondly, Judy was born in 1955. Girls athletics beyond tennis and cheerleading were grudgingly moving into high schools about the time Judy was leaving. She was athletic, but had few outlets.

Running was a cheap social exercise during Judy’s first teaching job in Juneau, Alaska. She and other teachers worried about their fitness during the long winters and began to run around the school gym.

Twenty-five laps equaled a mile. Conversation prevented boredom. Gradually, Judy noticed that exercise filled her with a pleasant sense of well-being.

Three-mile jogs grew to 10-mile races by 1980 and Judy discovered the satisfaction of reaching goals.

“The first one was a big thing,” she says. “I felt I’d accomplished something real big.”

Like any addiction, running demanded more and more of Judy’s life. After a 10-mile race, the 26.2-mile marathon beckoned. She faithfully followed a 12-week training program outlined in Runner’s World magazine.

Her endurance blossomed. Her body accepted the longer distance with grace.

Running was exploding into a big sport in 1981, but its popularity was slow to grow in Alaska’s cold environment. Only 33 runners entered Judy’s first marathon in Valdez. It was trial by ice.

“It was 35 degrees, snowing, yucky,” she says. “The wind was in our faces. It was grueling.”

High-tech running gear was too expensive for a weekend warrior then. Judy ran in sweats that soggy snow soaked into weights over her four-hour run.

Nevertheless, she was the second woman to finish. She was hooked.

“I remember being exhilarated,” she says. “I came out thinking, ‘Maybe I could be a little faster next time.”’

A marathon a year soon multiplied. The birth of her daughters in 1990 and 1992 only improved her training. She bought a special stroller and pushed one, then two napping babies over the rolling dirt and gravel county roads near her new home in Harrison. She lost 20 pounds.

By 1992, Judy was ready for longer races. Without changing her training, she tried a 37-mile race on the Centennial Trail from Spokane to Coeur d’Alene. She finished second overall.

“I couldn’t believe it,” she says. “So much is just mental, if you’re lucky enough to have a mechanically sound body.”

That run inspired Judy and two friends to try the LeGrizz 50-mile race in Montana. She worried most about quitting.

“I hate to even think …,” she says.

Her husband and parents carried extra clothes and food for her. She walked some of the uphills and ran the rest. Nearly nine hours after the start, she crossed the finish line.

“I was sore right to the skin,” she says.

But three days later, she was back in training. Since 1993, Judy’s finished five 50-mile races. Between training runs and work, she coaches Special Olympics skiing and track and field teams.

Somehow she fit the Boston Marathon into her schedule. Her next goal is the 100-mile Western States race in June along the gold rush trails between Squaw Valley and Auburn, Calif.

The 45 miles she runs each week now will have to increase to more than 50, she says. She’ll have to train some at night to prepare herself for racing after sunset, and in a variety of altitudes.

Judy knows she can’t fudge on training this time.

“It’s scary. I don’t know if I can finish,” she says, but never loses her smile. “I can’t imagine ever doing more, but 10 years ago, I wouldn’t have thought I would do 100.”