This Hostess City has a lot more to offer than just grits and greens. So lace up and let’s go.
By Andrea Goto
I used to run in 35-degree weather, with every insulated base and outer-layer REI could offer. I used to run in the snow, with a North Eastern wind biting my Vaseline-layered cheeks. I used to run in the rain. Lots and lots and lots of rain.
I used to live in the Pacific Northwest.
My first favorite thing about moving to Savannah 16 years ago, was the sun. I remember waking our first morning here, shielding my eyes.
“Turn out the light!” I demanded to my husband.
“It’s the sun,” he replied. “I don’t have that kind of power.”
The what? It had been so long since I’d seen her, I barely recognized her in all her sensational soleil-ness. She wasn’t the timid girl I grew up with who hid behind blankets of gray. No, this girl was loud, proud and hard to ignore—she was like solar version of Richard Simmons.
“Let’s do this!” she seemed to scream out to me with arms extended wide.
Do what?
Why, run of course.
Maybe it’s my cloud-covered childhood, but the sun inspires me to be active, which makes Savannah an ideal place for a runner. But it’s not only that we average 214 days of sun each year, it’s also the fact that Savannah has a surprisingly strong and supportive running community.
I say “surprising” because unlike an Austin, Portland or Denver, Savannah is better known for its mac ‘n’ cheese and sweet tea than marathoners and sprinters. But if you step away from the buffet (but not too long because runners need their carbs too), you’ll see that Savannah’s running community reflects the hospitality the South is known for.
Savannah's largest running club, the Savannah Striders Track Club, boasts about 500 members and continues to grow. They organize weekly runs, train runners of all abilities and lend support to local races. I reluctantly began running with the Striders three years ago when I was training for my first marathon because I wanted to run with others on long, supported routes. I was intimidated at first, which has far more to do with me than them. I thought running groups were for “real runners.” Turns out, they are. And as I discovered, “real runners” are people who put one foot in front of the other for a series of quick steps. How many and how quick depends on the runner.
The Striders turned out to be the most welcoming and diverse group. Some walk. Some run. Some just come for the coffee at the deli afterwards. Most are members, but others are visitors just passing through, looking for someone to run with on two of the city’s most scenic tracks. On Saturday mornings, the Striders run along the historic Bluff Drive in the quiet and quaint Isle of Hope. And on Sunday, they have special permission to cross the Everest of Savannah—and our only real elevation—the Talmadge Bridge, providing epic views of notable architecture and oak-filled squares.
And racers beware—there’s a race nearly every weekend and sometimes two, the most popular being the rambunctious Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon in November, the breathtaking (literally) Bridge Run in December, the trying Tybee Run Fest in February, and the popular Publix Women’s Half and 5K in April.
This city has transformed me into a compulsive runner and racer. I run in 75-degree weather and 100% humidity in the fewest and lightest moisture-wicking clothing the law will allow. I slather myself in SPF and bake in the warm rays. I run in the sun. Lot and lots and lots of sun.
