The Finish Line Isn’t the End: Jones Beach State Park

The Jones Beach State Park I Expected

Summers have always been about the beach for me. And “the beach” always meant Jones Beach. A day at the ocean was always a perfect day.

I was sure Jones Beach State Park would be my favorite race. I’ve spent decades of my life there.

My oldest brother was a Jones Beach lifeguard, and that’s no small feat. He was a champion swimmer and somewhat of a hero to me. He was much older, but I followed him around every summer, visiting whatever field he happened to be assigned to.

I remember running up the hot sand as a little girl and across the wooden boardwalk, hoping not to get a splinter as I raced my sister to the bathroom. Years later, my sister and I made running the NYS Parks Summer Run Series an annual tradition. My brother didn’t run—he was too old. 😉

Things change, but somehow I was still expecting the course I remembered, starting and finishing on the boardwalk with the ocean waving at me.

Instead, I found myself in Field 5, facing an enormous parking lot and the mammoth Northwell at Jones Beach Theater.

No boardwalk. No ocean.

My husband and another racer seemed particularly amused as the realization slowly sank in that it had been about 20 years since I’d last run this series.

Twenty years.

I don’t know why it took all summer for that to sink in.

Twenty years is a long break from running.

A Garden I Didn’t Expect

As usual, I had arrived early, so I wandered over to explore the theater grounds.

And there I found something I hadn’t expected.

Russian sage. Sedum. Mullein. Rugosa rose. Ornamental grasses

It’s not easy for plants to thrive near the beach, exposed to salt air, wind and sun. But these were thriving.

And if I were a honey bee living around here at the end of summer, this would be a pretty good place to find.

The plants weren’t scattered around as an afterthought, either. They appeared in large repeating masses around the theater grounds—plenty of late-season forage for pollinators.

I was thinking, I really have to get some mullein for MY garden, when…

Then the Sky Changed

The announcement came.

“Due to an incoming storm, we will start the race at 7:15 instead of 7:00. Please take shelter.”

I wasn’t too upset. I had Emily Wilde’s Compendium of Lost Tales in the car with me. 😊

And then came the rain.

Thunder. Lightning. And clouds that looked like something out of a science fiction movie.

Quite a show.

The start was eventually pushed to 7:30, and the five-mile race was shortened to a 5K.

But I think we all understand why I didn’t see a single bee.

The Last Run

Finally, I made it to the starting line.

Unfortunately, the storm hadn’t done anything about the humidity that had been hanging around all day.

I was NOT feeling the joy of the final race of the series. I’ve learned that I don’t particularly like twilight running, and that 20-year realization was still rubbing at me.

The starting gun went off, and I tried to settle in.

One man was FaceTiming while running, and I found myself wishing he’d run faster just so I wouldn’t have to listen to him.

Meanwhile, three friends were holding out their phones taking running selfies together as they moved along the course. I don’t run with my phone, but I couldn’t help smiling. I bet those pictures will make some really nice memories.

I really wanted to finish this race.

And I was eternally grateful they’d shortened it to a 5K.

Gratitude helped.

I heard birds.

I saw dragonflies.

Fireflies.

And then—

Goldenrod.

My first goldenrod in bloom this year.

And if you think the 20-year realization hit me hard, this one did too.

The Other Finish Line

Goldenrod is a beautiful plant. Once you know it, you can’t miss it.

But it means something different to a beekeeper.

Goldenrod is one of our most important late-season nectar sources. Its appearance tells me that the long days of summer forage are winding down and the fall flow is beginning.

It’s beautiful.

It’s also a warning.

Fall is coming.

Suddenly, I wasn’t just thinking about the end of my Summer Run Series.

I was thinking about my bees.

I picked up my pace.

Maybe the goldenrod woke me up.

Because although I hadn’t seen a single honey bee that evening, seeing the goldenrod reminded me that thousands of bees back in my own apiaries were busy preparing for what comes next.

The bees don’t have a finish line, but they do have a deadline.

They’ll work the goldenrod, asters, autumn sedum and even invasive knotweed, gathering and storing as much nectar as they can before the first frost brings the growing season to an end.

And I’ll be working too.

Assessing colonies. Watching the fall flow. Managing mites. Making sure every colony has enough stores and is strong enough to face winter.

The goldenrod isn’t saying, We’re finished.

It’s saying:

Get ready.

Eight Parks Later

By the time I crossed the finish line at Jones Beach, I was tired—and really pleased with myself.

I had done what I set out to do.

And I owe a thank-you to the team at Elite Feats, who somehow managed eight weeks of courses, timing, logistics—and on the final night, an approaching thunderstorm that changed just about everything. The Summer Run Series gave me a reason to lace up my running shoes again, week after week, and see eight New York State Parks in a way I never had before.

But running eight New York State Parks through the eyes of a beekeeper gave me something I hadn’t expected.

I saw native plants thriving along beaches and trails. I saw places struggling with invasive species and others where enormous efforts are being made to remove them. I found pollinator gardens, restored landscapes, forests, lakes, meadows and flowers I had never noticed before.

And I learned something.

There is a tremendous amount of thoughtful work happening in our state parks that most of us probably never notice.

I certainly hadn’t.

So, to the people at New York State Parks who plant, restore, protect, maintain—and patiently hand tired runners cold drinks at the finish line—thank you.

I came to your parks this summer to run.

I left each one knowing a little more about the landscapes my bees depend upon.

My Summer Run Series is finished, but the goldenrod blooming along the course at Jones Beach reminded me that the bees’ summer is winding down too.

For a beekeeper, that doesn’t mean the work is finished.

It means it’s time to make sure they’re ready for what comes next.

Looking Ahead: Back to Walking

This article is the last part of my Summer Run Series Through the Eyes of a Beekeeper, where I’m exploring Long Island’s parks and public spaces one race at a time.

👉 The NYS Parks Summer Run Series Through the Eyes of a Beekeeper

The NYS Parks Summer Run Series is officially finished.

But apparently I’m not finished exploring New York State Parks through the eyes of a beekeeper.

I missed the one-mile run at Robert Moses State Park earlier in the series, so this weekend I went back—this time for a walk.

No starting line. No race clock. No finish line.

Just a chance to see what I could see.

Next up: A Walk With a Beekeeper at Robert Moses State Park. 🐝🏃‍♀️