Sarah Whitcomb has learned over the past few years that—even in 2008—coming out is not a fleeting moment so much as it is a gradual process. While in an intense long-term relationship with another woman, Whitcomb had felt that the lesbian aspect of her identity was fully realized and that she did not need affiliations with any gay interest groups to make her life complete. But when that relationship ended in a difficult break-up, Whitcomb discovered she needed to reinvest some energy in herself. “Single again, I realized that I had a lot more coming out to do,” she says. “I realized that somehow my sexual identity was dependent on my actually being in a relationship with a woman, and when that ended, I felt stranded.” And so she joined Front Runners.
Sound familiar? Almost thirty years after the first Front Runners gathered informally in Central Park (a few years before Whitcomb, 27, was born), the club still offers the same invaluable resource to lesbian and gay runners – a space to find yourself or perhaps to lose yourself, whichever proves more useful. It's easy to think, particularly living in New York City, that such a space is unnecessary and that being gay in the new millennium is a non-issue. Indeed, Whitcomb had felt that way herself before discovering Front Runners. “For me it is incredible, nourishing, relaxing, empowering, to (now) have a place where I feel like in some fundamental way I am just like everyone,” says Whitcomb.
There are many fundamental ways in which Whitcomb is just like the rest of her Front Runner family—not the least of which is her love of competition. An avid player of both basketball and soccer in high school, Whitcomb found athletic competition early but soon encountered the bodily wear-and-tear that all too often comes part and parcel with the sporting life. “I got tendonitis from all that pounding on hard wood floors,” says Whitcomb of her basketball days. “It didn't feel right for a 14-year-old to have knee pain.” Soccer leveled its own laundry list of maladies. “Traumatic injuries,” she says amid a series of unsavory descriptives, “sudden, debilitating, crutches, swollen, black and blue, long lasting.”
Oddly enough (to those battle-scarred by running), jogging was one of the ways that Whitcomb stayed in shape while on injury sabbatical from other sports. Running was always a temporary fix while in rehab from the other recreational sports she dabbled in. It took some time for running to become her sport of choice. When she moved to Japan to teach English after finishing her undergraduate degree at Columbia, Whitcomb temporarily increased her running for the practical reason that she could explore the terrain more quickly than by walking. It took two more years, after she came back to New York to pursue a PhD in biology at the Rockefeller University, before Whitcomb would look to running as solace from the workaday trappings of daily life. “A year into grad school, feeling a bit overwhelmed and lost, I knew I needed a different kind of challenge,” she says. “I needed something I could chip away at, something I could reasonably expect a decent return on my investment of time and effort – and lab work wasn't reliable for that!”
Whitcomb quickly cashed in on her investment of discipline and hard work. Over the summer of 2005, she trained smartly on her own for the Grete's Gallop Half Marathon in October. Crossing the finish line in a fantastic road race debut of 1:39:15 (net time), Whitcomb was very pleased with her accomplishment, but was still not quite ready yet to convert to the religion of running.
Sometimes embracing oneself as a runner can be as slow and gradual a process as coming out sexually. With the dissolution of her long-term relationship, Whitcomb yearned for social outlets that might reinforce a solid sense of identity. Front Runners proved a perfect fit. “Historically, it has been difficult for me to feel integrated into large groups or teams,” admits Whitcomb. “But for some reason, with FRNY it was so easy and natural … so many people were actively welcoming.”
Since joining the club in September 2007, Whitcomb has grown within the gay community and has blossomed as a runner. She became one of a hard core group of about six women who trained faithfully at the Armory this past fall and winter. “I didn't believe it would ever be possible for me to run and talk,” she says of the social boon that increased training has provided. The results have also shown on the race course. Whitcomb has consistently placed among the top three women for FRNY, coming in second and third, respectively, for the women's team in the last two points races – the Colon Cancer 15K in March and the Kleinerman 10K in December. In 2008, Whitcomb also stepped up to the role of treasurer of FRNY's Charitable Foundation.
With nothing but thriving team pride, Whitcomb plans to ride this forward momentum. “There have been days when I have felt beaten down,” she says, “but I have put on my FRNY singlet and headed up to the track to train hard with my friends, and wearing that jersey I just get such a lift, a confidence boost from declaring that I am a lesbian runner.” Front Runners has been helping people arrive at that conclusion for three decades, but to Whitcomb the feeling is all brand new. Now, that's a gift.
—Robert Lennon
Random Data
Provenance – Madison, WI
2008 Racing Goals – Run first marathon with best friend from high school; qualify for 2009 NYC marathon with half marathon time; run 4 miles at sub-7 minute pace
Celeb to Stalk? – “Jodi Foster – exceptional actress, beautiful, so smart, and almost certainly still in the closet.”
Biggest difference between FRNY men and women? – “The numbers!”
PhD Studies – “Very, very, very broadly, I am studying how a given cell type decides what genes to express and what genes to repress.”