Inmates on the run usually are a problem. Not this time at the state prison in Shelton

These inmates are running toward something, not away from it.

Having made bad choices that landed them at the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton, about 50 prisoners are now using running as a track to bettering themselves.

The 1000-Mile Running Group started last year with 12 inmates. There are now close to 50.

On Sunday, they’ll run a half marathon, their longest race yet.

That means 52.4 laps around a gravel track in the prison yard while wearing state-issued tennis shoes. The race starts at 8 a.m. and has to be done before 11 a.m. when state law requires inmates be fed lunch.

“They do what they can in that time,” said Emily Hammargren, a Centralia College professor who teaches GED classes at the prison and has been trying to form an inmate running group since 2013.

There were more than a few obstacles.

Finding a place and time for prisoners to train took years.

Participants couldn’t be given extra time in the yard, and they only have access to certain areas of the prison. Officials worked it out so the runners can practice on a quarter-mile track for an hour on weekends. Then they have to move to a smaller yard for the remainder of training.

In previous races, numbers had to be taped to the inmates’ shirts because safety pins aren’t allowed.

Hammargren wants to give the half-marathon runners a completion sticker to celebrate their achievement but isn’t allowed to use the number 13 because it is considered a gang number (a half marathon is 13.1 miles). She also has to be careful about the colors she uses on the stickers.

In the end, she opted to use paper to write “Half-marathon finisher” with the date, cut them out and laminate them.

As a marathon runner herself, Hammargren knows how it feels to finish a race and wants the inmates to experience the same pride. It’s why she fought to start the group in the first place.

“Long-distance running is inspiring and it makes you want to be a better person and it makes you want to do your best,” she said. “I wanted to bring that feeling to the people in prison. It can be a life-changer.”

Elisha Tabor, 28, is one inmate who said running has changed his life.

Tabor was casually running in the prison yard before 1000-Mile Running Group started, signed up and won the first 5k held on prison grounds.

A knee injury lowered his goal for Sunday’s half-marathon to just finishing the race, but he knows the rewards extend beyond the race.

Regular running helped him get off anti-depressants and gave him something to look forward to.

“I’m learning, interestingly enough, humility,” Tabor said. “I’ve never had a reason to set goals and figure out a plan to reach those goals and achieve them. Now I set goals and I reach those goals. It’s a huge gain.”

Stephen Johnson, 54, said he sees running as a way to stay in shape while behind bars.

Once Johnson started training in prison, he was able to run 103 miles over the course of three days and hopes to finish the half-marathon in under two hours.

His secret? No eating before the race and a stiff shot of coffee. Plus, a sense of camaraderie with his fellow inmate runners.

“In life, selfishness has been an issue,” Johnson said. “Being able to work with others and get along with others, I think it’s very helpful. We have a mutual respect for each other.”

To be eligible to race behind bars, inmates must fill out an application, pass a health check, attend monthly meetings and turn in the miles they log.

There’s no requirement to be good at running or finish a race.

Greg Klein, owner of South Sound Running, holds a lecture on training and provides tips so inmates can build their own training program.

After speaking to a group of about 40 prisoners this summer, he received about 30 letters from inmates telling him how important the information was in helping them succeed.

“To give those people a focus that’s constructive at the facility is hugely beneficial,” Klein said. “It’s been great as a way the store can really help people’s lives.”

Encouragement also comes from inmates at San Quentin Prison in California, which has its own 1000-Mile Running Group, and members of the local running community.

People from outside the prison are allowed to race the 5k, 10k and half-marathon at WCC if they pass a background check beforehand. In fact, race organizers wish more members of the public would come out to race.

“It’s the same running community, it’s the same goal setting and challenges on the outside track and on in the inside track,” Hammargren said. “We want them merged so when the guys get out of prison, running can be a healthy part of their life.”