When in years to come I look back on the 1998 River to River Relay, I will remember the Fly Lady, the Poop Lady, the Turtles, and C&W; music blasting on the van radio as we rolled through the hill country.
River to River is a singularly special event that brings eight-runner teams-several hundred of them--to the southern tip of Illinois for 80 miles of back-country running. The race begins on a bluff near Wolf Lake overlooking the Mississippi River and ends at the town of Golconda beside Ohio River levees.
Each runner runs three times carrying a baton, each leg lasting about three miles--although some legs are longer and some harder than others. The total for my three legs in the second position was 10.9 miles. My carries varied from a flat first leg to a rolling second leg to a third leg that featured a hill twice as high and long as infamous Heartbreak Hill in the Boston Marathon, run the same weekend in April.
River to River was in its 11th year. The event was founded by Gordon Pitz, who patterned it after the longer Hood to Coast Relay in Oregon. Pitz shares organizational duties with Keith McQuarrie and remains a visible presence with his bush hat and silvery beard. "This is a very curious race," Pitz admitted when we spoke at registration. "Wonderful things usually happen."
For many of the nearly 2,000 runners who participate in it, some year after year, River to River is more than wonderful; it is an exploration of their psyche and willingness to endure running at the edge of fatigue, not all of it caused by the running itself. In fact, almost as much energy during an event that fills a full day will be spent getting to and from the start and finish and hopping in and out of transport vans and sitting in those vans waiting to run your next leg. Add to that the need to eat and drink between carries and do what needs to be done between eating and drinking--but we'll get to the Poop Lady later.
The Poop Lady
Thus, running a multi-leg road relay is both easier and more difficult than a marathon. Mostly, it is a test, and runners love tests. This was my second time at River to River. I first ran the Relay in 1990 with a team from Northwest Indiana and might have returned more often were the event not the same weekend as the Boston Marathon. Researching and promoting a book timed for that race's 100th running kept me away. This year, when Henning Falkenstein, a professor at Valparaiso University, began recruiting at our club runs, I said yes.
But I was going to tell you about the Fly Lady and the Poop Lady and the Turtles. The Fly Lady was a woman on a team running about the same pace as ours. We kept seeing her at exchanges. She wore blue eye makeup and didn't really look like a fly, but the women on our team dubbed her that. I missed the performance of the Poop Lady who at one exchange stepped out of her van, dropped her shorts and let loose on the grass.
The Taylorville Turtles was the name of another team toiling near us that wore noxious green singlets. One of their members kicked past me at the end of my second leg and, as though in penance, the team captain offered me a plastic turtle and coffee cup with their team name on it.
Part of the fun of River to River is choosing crazy names. We were "Migrating Dunies." Other teams were named "Team Godzilla," "April Fools," and "The Cutting Edge of Insanity." My favorite team was the one that had the message on the back of their shirts: "No Walkin' Till the Van Passes."
Then there were the Silver Striders, a team of runners from Chicago, average age 71, including Dick Lamermayer, an arch-rival in my age category. We encountered each other in the early hours before dawn in the first exchange zone and exchanged quick greetings. I love seeing Dick in a race, because he motivates me to run faster. Alas, the Silver Striders led with their fastest runner, and by the time I got the baton Dick had moved out of sight. By the second exchange, my team had passed his and moved far enough ahead so he couldn't sight on me.
One of the necessary ironies of River to River is that despite nearly 2,000 runners, staggered starts spread the field so that often you run in a vacuum with nobody nearby running your pace. Thus, to run fast requires much more concentration than it might in a standard road race. I finally saw Dick finishing in Golconda. One of the traditions of River to River is that the rest of the team follows their anchor runner into the finishing chute. Although Migrating Dunies beat the Silver Striders to the line, their ages permitted them more of a time handicap, so they beat us in the standings for the handicap division.
Looking Good
But trophies is not why we had come to Southern Illinois. Most of today's fitness-oriented runners never ran in high school and never experienced the camaraderie of being part of a team, or carrying a baton in a relay where success depends as much on the skills of the slowest as on the fastest. River to River fulfills a need for bonding, so the limited field fills within days of when entry blanks appear in mailboxes.
It was a difficult day of running for me, despite cool and cloudy weather, but who said running was supposed to be easy? After dreading that final hill that I knew was higher and steeper than Heartbreak, I somehow found the will to reach the top then surprised myself by finding strength for a final sprint before handing the baton to our next runner. "You looked great!" my teammates told me. It's not how fast you run, I told myself, but how good you look doing it
Through the long day's events, I swore I'd never run this stupid race again, but cresting that final hill I already had begun to reconsider that vow. In two visits to the River to River Relay, I had run two different legs, which means six remain should I accept the challenge to return. As an aging runner, it is good that a few challenges remain in my life. God bless River to River.
Copyright © 1998 by Hal Higdon. All rights reserved.