The Eight Deadly Sins and the
RIVER TO RIVER RELAY
Why do some events achieve mythical proportions while others remain just
races? Why do some races inspire and generate a kind of magic that leads
to the irrational behavior of rising before dark and punishing your body?
Why will runners plan weddings and even births around a certain weekend in
April? Examining the River to River Relay we'll discover that this magic
is from a combination of (1) Difficulty (2) Beautiful scenery, (3) An
interesting location for the finish,(4) Challenging weather, and (5)
Friendship. For cross-country skiers out there, if this sounds a little
like the Birkie, you get the idea.
It's 4:15 a.m. and The Eight Deadly Sins are gathered in the lobby of our
motel in Marion, IL preparing to drive to the start of the 2001 River to
River Relay. As one of the seeded teams in the handicap division we have
been assigned a 6:15 a.m. start, but the team assembles at this early hour
without protesting. Doesn't it seem that races with this magic always seem
to require rising before dawn? Our challenge today is to justify our
seeding but most importantly to finish before Dream Team II, a male masters
team also from the Lake Forest/Lake Bluff running club, starting at 7:15.
There are serious bragging rights at stake here, especially since Jenny
Spangler's husband Miki Tosic is on Dream Team II.
We are one of 240 teams of 8 runners planning to run from the start, on a
high bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, to the finish in the old Ohio
River town of Golconda. At the start, we can see across the Mississippi
River to Missouri, at the finish, we are across the Ohio River from
Kentucky. The 8 runners each take turns running 3 different sections for a
total of 24 sections. It's the equivalent of running the 3 hilliest 5ks
you've ever seen, all in one day. During the entire 80 miles we will see
none of the artifacts of the modern urban environment; no fast food
restaurants, no Starbucks, no Einstein Bagels or strip malls. Most of the
route is through the beautiful Shawnee National Forest, the most scenic
part of Illinois. The map says Illinois, but the warmth, flowering trees,
southern twang of the native accent and most of all the hills say Kentucky
or Tennessee. We are, and feel like we are, a long way from the Chicago area.
It's 5 a.m. and lightning fills the sky to our west as we drive through the
soft, dark, southern Illinois night headed for our turnoff at Alto Pass.
Rain, while not welcome, will have the benefit of settling the dust on some
of the gravel roads we'll follow. The temperature is already in the upper
60's and forecast to climb into the 80's with a strong wind. The hills are
already impressive and the big van attacks them by sucking big gulps of
gasoline. The team is engaged in friendly banter. Keith Stewart is giving
Steve Wikner a hard time, telling him his reputation will be shot if he's
not the first one down the hill at the first baton exchange. We find the
turn at Alto Pass and then turn on an even smaller road. If it were light
out, from this ridge we could see the big white cross on top of Bald Knob,
one of the highest points in southern Illinois. The road drops down into a
valley where prosperity appears to be measured by the number of cars on
blocks in the yard. After checking in at McCann Springs (where last year
we discovered a flat tire on the van, but that's another story) we drive to
the start and drop off Steve, our first runner.
6:35 a.m. and Steve is 4th at the first baton exchange out of the nearly 60
teams starting at 6:15. Even though Steve focuses primarily on
cross-country skiing, the1st wave Birkie skier can still hammer. Michelle
Ralph takes the baton and lights the afterburner. By the time she hands
off to Jack Taylor, we are in second overall. Jack Taylor, who at 67 is
our oldest runner, tackles his first hill and hands off to Larry Smith near
the old vine covered barn. Larry, who has leg 4 with its endless rolling
hills, hammers his section in that loose-jointed style of his and passes
the baton to Jack Zordan. Jack, race director for our Lake Forest/Lake
Bluff running club, who has a tough section with a big hill at the entrance
to Cobden, hands off to Jenny Spangler in Cobden at the intersection where
the church ladies prepare coffee and other goodies for the runners. By the
time we climb in the van and pass Jenny, she has nearly crested the top of
the big hill leaving Cobden. Jenny in turn hands off to Keith Stewart.
Keith's first leg is brutal, and although he's been injured and has run
very little the past few months, he hammers his leg and hands off to Jerry
Chapmon. Jerry has leg 8, the toughest and longest, in recognition of his
strong running these past several months, and he proves up to the challenge.
And so it goes. All day we pass locations that bring back the memories
from earlier races. The spot where we changed a flat tire last year, the
exchange run by the bikers (Harleys not Colnagos) for Christ, the water
jumps (dry this year), the exchange where we saw the snakes copulating, the
barn where Steve spotted a 6 ft. bull snake, the exchange where Keith
mistakenly told Steve (in a porta-potty at the time) that our next runner
was coming. This year we add more stories to the legend of River to River.
Jenny, ponytail bouncing, passing runners (road kill in our language) on
the last, long hill on leg 6, Michelle, blowing by two runners in the
first 100 yards of her leg. But most importantly, friendships made years
ago are reinforced and new ones are made.
At a little past 3 PM that afternoon, the church bell rings announcing
another runner. Jerry rounds the corner of the main street in Golconda and
the rest of us accompany him across the finish line. We finish in 8:54:24,
good for 3rd place out of 60 teams in the handicap division and 24th out of
223 finishing teams, an excellent performance for a team with an average
age of over 47. A few minutes later Dream Team II finishes. They have run
well and win 5th place in the Male Masters Division. The No Whiners, also
from the Lake Forest/Lake Bluff running club, run hard and finish in the
top half of the handicap division. After the finish it's the traditional
team picture on the levee with the Ohio River and Kentucky in the background.
Golconda is a great place to hang around after the finish. It reminds me of
Hayward and the Birkie, but 800 miles south and with some notable
contrasts. Instead of brats at the Anglers bar, there's peach and cherry
cobbler on the courthouse lawn. Instead of zero degrees, snow and ice,
it's 75 degrees and flowering Magnolias and Dogwood. Instead of polypro,
lycra and down, it's shorts, t-shirts and skin. But it's the same mix of
fatigue, sense of accomplishment and the companionship that can only come
from sharing a tough race and good friends.
So, until next year, its good-bye to River to River. Good-bye to the
hills, to the predawn start, to the jokes, to feeling good hanging around
Golconda. But the stories and memories and friendships remain and energize
me for next year.