When accomplished Carmel native Brian J. Love died as a result of a tragic 2005 snowboarding accident in Virginia at age 22, his mother, Susan, found out he had been secretly training to run his first marathon as a special surprise just for her. She had already run more than 30 marathons by that time.
His ambition didn’t surprise her. At the time of his death, Brian was a few months from graduating with honors from the University of Virginia. He was the top snowboarder in the Southeastern Conference, a talented musician, a published poet and photographer and a community volunteer.
To honor his memory, Brian’s friends launched a 5K race they dubbed Run in the Name of Love, with proceeds going to a nonprofit for whom he volunteered. Susan Love flew out every year for five years to lead the students. (She also ran the Big Sur International Marathon in honor of Brian every year during that same period. She won her division every time.)
In 2011, she brought the race to Carmel, Brian’s hometown. The race now takes place every year on Father’s Day to give others a chance to walk or run for in honor of their loved ones. It’s also a fundraiser for Just Run, a youth fitness program part of the Big Sur Marathon. Susan serves as Just Run’s program director.
The race includes a 2K run/walk and competitive 5K. Being Carmel, the 2K event is dog-friendly: every dog gets a free race bandana and a dog biscuit at the finish line. It’s accessible to all ages; last year, participants ranged in age from 4 to 88. The race begins at the Sunset Center; 5K participants wind their way down San Carlos Street, past the Carmel Mission, and along Scenic Road to Ocean Avenue.
The petite blonde, with blue eyes that match the ocean along her favorite Carmel Beach route, has been running for 42 years – including 37 marathons – although she says she’s slowing down. Not when it comes to the Run in the Name of Love race, however. The Weekly caught her while organizing the event just long enough for a conversation at the Carmel Coffee and Cocoa Bar in the Carmel Plaza.
You’ve been organizing this race in Carmel for more than seven years, but I heard you say once that you almost didn’t continue after the first event.
Love: Organizing the race was a challenge. There were 19 months to get through all the rules and stipulations and organizational aspects… But what happened at the end – and this is why it’s so meaningful to me – I remember finishing that first year on the stage and looking out over all the people and the ocean. It was so beautiful and I thought, I accomplished my goal. And then a woman came up to me and she started crying uncontrollably… and she said, “I just have to tell you that my dad died in a horrific boating accident, and you have given me a way to remember him and something to look forward to on Father’s Day.” And that did it for me. I said, “That’s it, I’m in.”
What does “slowing down” look like for someone who’s been running as long as you have?
Well now it means no more marathons, no more races. It just means [running] down at the beach with my little dog and just enjoying it, and doing what I can do. I always said I’d rather wear out then rust out, and I’m definitely wearing out. (Laughs.)
Did you know your last marathon was the very last one?
No. It’s kind of a funny story. I crossed the finish line, and I needed an IV. I was really struggling, so they took me in medical and I was hooked up to two IVs… I had missed the award ceremony. I looked up and here comes my daughter and the gentleman from the Big Sur Marathon who was handing out the awards, and they walk in with flowers and my first place plaque. Normally you’d like to be standing up on the stage, but here I am in medical in the tent, hooked up. It was a paradox.
Did you have any favorite music you listened to while training?
Never. My greatest thoughts – I like to think I had a few – came to me while I was running. It was just a time for me to think and plan and plot and put life into perspective. It was always a time of reflectiveness and tranquility for me and just to think about things. I always felt better no matter what. I never finished a run and said “Oh darn, I wish I hadn’t done that.”