As the sun struggled to rise past the clouds and start drying out the flood waters around downtown Cincinnati on Sunday, thousands of runners wearing shorts and T-shirts stood on the streets of the city, awaiting the booming sound of the starting cannon.
Carla Craig of Alexandria, Shannon Short of Hebron, and Mike SoRelle of Independence after the Heart Mini Marathon in Cincinnati on Sunday. (Photo provided by SoRelle)
They shivered in the pre-dawn chill, but with the knowledge that once the Heart Mini Marathon began, they would warm up quickly.
Among them was Mike SoRelle of Independence, anxious because he wasn’t feeling nervous about running his second, and by far his longest, race. Nearby was Paul Seibert of Fort Mitchell, eager to turn his 499-day running streak into a 500-day streak.
Meanwhile, a few hundred miles to the south, a dozen Northern Kentucky women were prepping for 13.1 or 26.2 miles of the hills and the beautiful scenery of the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina.
A day earlier and half a state away, Eric Kavalauskas felt skittish about his first marathon, jumpy because the rains had turned the expected trail race near the Land Between the Lakes into a road race, and a fog was hiding all the decent views.
Yes, in the spring, some thoughts might turn to love, but for the runners among us, those thoughts turn to joy — racing season has begun.
It began with a bang in Cincinnati. The cannon exploded at 7:30 a.m., just as the sun was rising, and 4,644 people running a half-marathon or 15K race took off eastward on Fifth Street. Later, more than 4,000 runners would participate in other races, including a 5K and a 2K fun run.
Erin Meyer Webb of Edgewood after finishing the Asheville Marathon. (Photo provided by Webb)
For those running the longer distances, the first couple of miles are glorious. Ahead you see a scrum of people moving in the same direction, their heads and bodies slightly bouncing up and down, not in unison, but in a dissonant symphony of motion. Turn around and there’s another swarm, their faces showing the effort of moving up those hills, but all wearing slight smiles.
You keep moving, and as you race up the hills from downtown and push on through to Columbia Parkway, you are faced with a breathtaking sight: The sun rising against the Ohio River, which meanders down from the east, with the hills of Northern Kentucky as a perfect backdrop to the south. It makes the months of training worthwhile.
Mike, whose first and only other race was a 5K in December, said he found the first four miles easy going, and he was running steady if a bit fast with his 12-minute per mile pace group. But then an old hip problem arose, and he decided to back off a little. Interestingly enough, he found the solitude of running alone among massive amounts of people oddly satisfying.
“While we were all part of the same running community, they weren’t my running family,” he remembers thinking. “They were like the distant relation you see at the family reunion and kind of nod at, since you really don’t know who they are.”
Five miles later, Mike was ready for the finish line, but it kept disappearing.
“I reached the race timer denoting the ninth mile, (and) I overheard a couple of women, one encouraging her friend and letting her know it was just .3 miles, and she could make it.” he said.
Christine Lang-Boehmer of Florence, left, took second place in her age group at the Asheville Half Marathon on Sunday. (Photo proided by Lang-Boehmer)
“Silently I hoped that held true for me too… What I was unaware of then, but quickly became obvious, was in some stroke of evil genius, the race designers ended the race on an uphill sprint around a few corners. I was a zombie. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other. I think my ‘pouring it on’ was more like ‘maintaining minimal forward momentum.’ …I was vaguely aware of people shouting the finish was just around the corner, but… they had been saying that for three corners already. Eventually I was on a short straightaway, and I could see the finish line and hear the announcer. After 1 hour, 52 minutes, and 44 seconds, it was over. And there, at the finish line, was the rest of my group cheering and yelling.”
Eric, who lives in Edgewood, has had a similar transition though running. Eighteen months ago, he was overweight, out-of-shape, and fearing for his health. He started running with a Couch-to-5K group. On Saturday, he ran his first marathon — but it was a mere training run for an ultramarathon of 31 miles he plans to run in five weeks.
“Friday, my training partner and friend, Jon Minzner, drove to Grand Rivers, Kentuky, to participate in the Land Between the Lakes Marathon,” he said. “This was supposed to be a trail race, but the two feet of snow and recent rain canceled any hopes of that. The race was moved to the roads instead. It rained the entire drive down and all night.”
“Fortunately, the rain lightened considerably for the race but created considerable fog cover, which eliminated the promised views,” Eric continued. “I was anxious. I had put in all the work but still wondered if I was ready for such a distance.”
At the end, though, he was pleased with his performance.
And Minzner, by the way, drove back home to Independence so he could run Sunday in the Heart Mini Half-Marathon. Which he did, in just over two hours. The half-marathon, not the drive home. I don’t know how long that took.
Suzanne Livezey Peters of Union, Kris Payler Staverman of Erlanger, and Cheri Cornelius of Crestview Hills in front of the Biltmore House during the Asheville Half Marathon. (Photo from the Biltmore House)
For the ladies at the Biltmore Estate, the Asheville Marathon and Half-Marathon was a weekend of work, fun, dreams, and memories. But it wasn’t easy.
The first 6 and a half miles around the estate were up one hill and down the other. Five miles were on flat roads that were a mixture of dirt and hard gravel. With two miles to go, runners passed a point where they could see and hear the finishers. A tease, one runner called it.
“Being surrounded by friends helped most of us get to the finish,” said Kris Payler Staverman of Erlanger. “The finish was amazing, as every runner was announced and we received an awesome medal and embroidered blanket. And the littlest thing made the race — the volunteers opened the water bottles before handing them to you.”
A veteran marathoner on the trip, Erin Meyer Webb of Edgewood, said the Asheville Marathon was the hardest of the four she’s run. It was hilly and spread out, and sometimes so very, very quiet.
“There would be times when you would be running with just one or two people,” she said. “It was actually kind of peaceful… I saw so many animals. We ran through the vineyards. The mountains were all around us, and at one point a horse ran with us behind the fence.”
The best part of the race, said Cheri Cornelius of Crestview Hills, came about halfway through, when the course passed by the estate house. The Biltmore House, built by George Washington Vanderbilt II between 1889 and 1895, covers 178,926 square feet and remains the largest privately owned house in the United States.
Cheri said the medal, a combination of wood and silver, was fabulous. And there was the food, she said, which included doughnut holes. And Moon Pies — Moon Pies! — at the water stations.
“Even though it was a hard course, I am so happy I did it,” she said.
Paul Long, on the road (Photo by Kris Payler Staverman)
Paul Long writes weekly for the NKyTribune about running and runners. For his daily running stories, follow him at dailymile.com or on Twitter @Pogue57
