By CHRIS POMORSKI
Beneath an autumn sky brimming with light, Haddonfield resident Alison Kehner completed the ING New York City Marathon earlier this month in a cathartic culmination of training that since June had served as a form of therapy and mourning, as well as preparation.
In May, Alison, the mother of three and a law professor at Widener University, lost her closest friend, Jennifer Forsa, to sudden cardiac failure at age 38, and she found her runs through Haddonfield’s parks and along its quiet avenues the only effective solace. A long-time jogger with one whole and several half-marathons to her name, the athletic 39-year-old had always valued the mental release she derived from distance running. In the wake of Jennifer’s death, however, her weekly 15 miles became more than head clearing, more than mere fitness.
“The only thing that made me feel better was going out for a run,” Alison said of those first difficult weeks. It was on such a run that she resolved to enter the marathon, thereby achieving a long-held goal to reprise the classic 26.2-mile discipline. Jennifer’s sudden passing, Alison says, impressed on her the need to “seize today, because there might not be a tomorrow.”
To join her in the race, Alison enlisted Suzanne Dia, a friend and Montclair resident with whom she and Jennifer had formed a close-knit trio since their sorority days at the University of Delaware. In honor of Jennifer, who suffered from a heart defect, the two scrambled for and secured the last openings on the American Heart Association’s team, and like thousands of others running with a charitable group, committed to raising money for their chosen cause.
“New York was her city,” Alison said of Manhattan, where Jennifer worked for many years in human resources at the Colgate-Palmolive Company in midtown. In crossing the Central Park finish line, she hoped to “be with Jen in a moment in time,” in a place she associates closely with her friend.
“I know I’ll finish it,” Alison said. “When I do, I will have done it for her.”
Distance necessitated that Alison train solo. With help from a Runner’s World guide, she set about a program that drastically augmented her usual jogging routine and enforced a strict yoga hiatus — charting routes that sometimes reached 20 miles and nearly always took her up and over a perennial bane of local cross-country teams — the Centre Street Hill.
At the bottom of that steep grade, and elsewhere in town — on Hickory and Hinchman, on Washington Avenue — Alison often found containers of water left for her in driveways and on front steps beside words of encouragement, chalked on pavement in colorful scrawl by friends and their children.
“People in town have been great,” Alison said of her neighbors, who during her training volunteered to watch seven-year-old twins Katie and Samantha, and four-year-old Maddie; some even joined her on the road — five miles here, seven or eight there — before heading back as she pushed on.
Alison’s greatest support, however, came from inside her Maple Avenue home, where husband George Kehner shouldered extra duties to accommodate her lengthy runs.
“George has been phenomenal,” she said. “He wants to help me work through this loss.”
Family proved crucial on Sunday around mile 23, when in the midst of pain and nausea, Alison spotted her children’s “Go Mommy” sign held aloft.
“I was feeling pretty badly,” she said. “It was so motivational to see them.”
Not everything had gone according to plan. A too-large Heart Association jersey had been discarded in favor of a pink one labeled, “Alison,” and a bus responsible for transporting Alison and Suzanne to the starting line failed to get them there and they had walked the remaining distance. Socks bought specifically for the marathon contributed an enormous blood blister to the cause.
Nevertheless, the gratitude Alison felt when she woke Sunday in early morning darkness for her chance to participate in the run had not abated, and still has not. “I’m lucky to have lived it,” she said.
A mile past the children and their signs, Suzanne turned to Alison, flagging but determined in the race’s final stretch. “These last two are for Jen,” she said.
Propelled by memory and adrenaline, the two women crossed the finish line some 25 minutes later, having run for a total of four hours and 57 minutes.
“Suzi said it best,” Alison decided Monday afternoon, “yesterday was a celebration of life.”
“I feel that Jen was with us,” she added, “and proud of us.”
