Bill McDermott, Event Coordinator for runday.com with his Daughter

The following is the description of my route for World Run Day, 2000. Although the race course I took was a new one, in a sense it traced the path I took many years ago in this very same town. At that time, my world was a very small world with a straight and narrow path. My world has expanded immensely since then, but I always come back to the old path, the one that brought me into education.

November 5, 2000
It was race day and I was doing a charity run. This was so cool. I had chosen my charity and designed my own race route. After days of thinking about the charity to which I'd like to make a donation, I realized that I HAD to choose one that helped children with learning disabilities. You see, I am a teacher in the regular classroom, but I have a background in special education and am too aware of the children who struggle with beginning language arts skills. I am faced with this daily and feel that it has been difficult for me to ensure that these children take the path to meet their needs.

I chose to run my own route instead of entering an event. Antisocial? No way! My favorite races have about 12,000 runners, but this route had to be something personal and unique. I needed a new route that took me by a couple of important places from my past.

It was a dreary fall day. It was chilly and damp; the kind of day that is great for running, that is if you can make yourself get out the door.

I turned out of my driveway and went straight up the hill. I usually turn right and take the easy path...down the hill.

I remembered my first student 26 years ago, little Scott. He was a cute shy little boy. He didn't know any letters and couldn't read any words. He didn't know his math facts and was a little scared when he met me.

We started our drills. A says /a/ as in Apple. B says /b/ as in Bat.

The Beaver Dam

I am so fortunate to be a runner. Without running, I wouldn't be outside on a dreary day, feeling warm and toasty while seeing the beauty in my small town. I felt a tinge of sadness for the people who don't step outside when the sun isn't shining.

Soon Scott could read some words. He sounded them out slowly, but he knew what they said. We made game boards together. He rolled the dice, counted the dots and moved his a little Match Box truck, his game piece. He landed on a word and read it. He told me that he didn't like the game they played in his regular classroom. It was a math fact game and if you didn't say your answer quickly you had to sit down. The sun wasn't always shining for Scott. He needed me to get him to take that first step out the door.

I continued up a winding hill. Not a soul was out. It was getting a little more cloudy. I hoped to complete my run before the rain, but then I remembered that I love to run in a light rain. I forget and I remind myself. But I only like the rain when I run. I turned the corner and then headed toward the old school. I haven't entered that building for many years. I read the sign and saw that its name has been changed.

I was being trained as an Orton-Gillingham tutor. I had to write stories which my student would use for his reading instruction. This was tough. I had to contrive a story from certain sounds. I needed to make sure that this child had the skills to decode every word on the page. When Scott forgot the words, he was not able to remind himself, that is not unless he knew his sounds. I wanted the story to be a fun story. Scott loved dogs, so it was to be a dog story. I wrote a story about what the dog had for lunch. The entree was to be pork chops! It was a lucky thing for the dog that Scott knew that Ch said /ch/ as in Chop.

I ran through the business district and took the fork to the right. I saw the town library. I remembered that the library was my favorite place to visit as a child. I liked to take home picture books. I was happy with one nice book, but was happier when I could check out a few. This didn't change as I became an adult. Years ago, when I had more time to spend, I'd check out as many as I could, stack them up in my house and read them all; nonstop.

It was time for Scott's first book. He knew enough sounds to be successful. We chose a little book with some pictures. Scott would look at the pictures, but he still needed to rely on his sounds. Scott had a learning disabilty and it was the sounds that allowed him to read. A library would be a very different for Scott as a child and perhaps for his whole life. I wonder if it is a place that Scott ever visits as an adult.

The Common/Click to Enlarge

It was on to the town common. The day of my run I took the long route, veering off from the main road to run the circular driveway of the common, as I would when I did my ten mile runs. My long runs were slow, but always rewarding. Just another goal to be set and accomplished for a runner. Today there was a wedding on the common.

The wedding party was covered with men's coats to protect them from the cold, that is until the photo that would be shown to the world, was taken. I wondered if Scott had married. Hmm. He must be 32 years old now. I hadn't seen him since he was six! I decided to see if his name was in the phone book.

We added math facts to our game board, but I taught Scott a strategy. I taught him how to start at one number and count on from there. He wouldn't be able to say his facts fast enough for his teacher...not yet, but at least he had the means to be accurate. Another goal accomplished for a young student. Scott decided that he liked numbers. And if Scott could learn to count quickly enough, he would have a trick that would never need to be shown to the world.

Another isolated road. My town is more country than city, but country is beautiful to a runner. I loved passing the farm and hoped that the horses were in view. It was a quiet day for the horses. They were too still. I wondered if they'd like to come running along with me. I'm sure that they would.

Scott needed to learn to spell. We practiced listening to the sounds in words and making the letters in order. It was slow and tedious work but we worked step-by-step until he could write a few words and had some confidence. We didn't write the stories that my first graders write now.

If we did, we would have worked even more diligently for I would have wanted to read a story, written by Scott from our Run the Seasons story starters... perhaps the one about seeing a wild animal when out on a run and pretending that it runs along with you.

But even if we did have this fun and motivating program, Scott, more than others, would have needed this basic skill work first because keeping words in order and formulating ideas in writing would be too much for this child without more of a foundation in word and sentence writing than the average child.

Bridges and rivers intrigue me. It started to rain. This little road was often closed with too much rain, but a runner could get through. Runners can go so many places that cars can't. You just sometimes take a different path as a runner to get to the same destination.

I worked with Scott for one year and he could read. You just sometimes take a different path with a learning disability to reach the same destination.

My planned route ended at the home Scott grew up in.

The Home/Click to Enlarge

Then I carried on, wondering what I'd find at the a little farther down the road and I heard some playful laughter; a child's squeal of delight and in the parking lot I found a young father involved in running 'play' with his child. Does it have anything to do with this story? Maybe not, but, this scene, like the country during a long pensive run, was a delight to my eyes.

Running is Kids' Play/Click to Enlarge

We would love to know if you have done a charity run for something dear to your heart. I would like to dedicate this piece to Mrs. Alice Garside who once believed in me and filled me with confidence.
I'd also like to dedicate this to any teacher who has worked with learning disabled children and found a way to make them read with confidence. Please email rwedit@rodale.com with your story.