Our Super-Girls at the Flying Pig Half Marathon

The first weekend in May is always a big deal in Cincy - at least for those of us who are tired of pounding the treadmills over a long winter and are itching to head out into the sun. The Flying Pig is a run that many people take very seriously for qualifying and records and the like. Some of us take it seriously because we dread the hills but love the crowds that cheer and help us get the adrenaline rush till the end :)

This year was no different. The day was a gorgeous one, the sun rise breathtaking, the music at the start line infectiously peppy. We had been ditched by the rest of the Jovents but our enthusiasm was not deterred :P . 

We set off at a brisk pace, across the bridges, a lovely cool breeze from the Ohio, a great crowd up and about to cheer even at 7am on a Saturday! 'Hurry up, it is time for my nap' said one slogan outside the old age home as we ran by, 'Ryan Gosling is waiting at the finish line' promised another. Oh, if only!! Mile 5 and we were running through downtown, the sidewalks busy, confetti and banners everywhere. Leading up to the dreaded mile 6. The hill up Gilbert. Then the hill up Eden. The hill past the gorgeous apartment building we all envy the view of. The hill that never seemed to end. I was ready to die. 'You are running better than the government' quipped one guy, that is some high class wit and cynical cheering for you. Thank goodness for the friend I ran with who never let up the pace or the steady encouragement. Then, finally, the upward climb seemed to slow. 'Downhill in a mile!' Yelled a bystander :) Oh i could have hugged them if I hadn't been so scared that if I stopped I would never be able to start up my legs again. 

And then, finally, the promised downhill came. Madison was reached, and we caught our breaths. And then used all our downhill strategies. Down the road we flew, our legs moving with gravity that was finally on our side, recovering from the insult up the hills. 

The music got louder as we rounded onto central parkway, the cheerleading people promising all kinds of  alcohol and carbs at the finish line. A little loop as we got onto the last mile. Many people kicking their last burst for the end, all of us going along with them. And then the overhead countdown to the shiny glittery finish line, spontaneous smiles on our faces as we thought of the waffles and bacon awaiting us at the end, legs pumping, not really feeling them but just operating them at the spinal level, and the ever present crowd so excited for all the finishes. 

And we did it!! 

Limping the moment we crossed the finish, trying to stretch instead of just flinging to the ground, high fives all around. 

Cheers to us all!! 

Cannot wait for next year!!

Our results:

Sara Lazaro: 1:39:10

Kriti Puri:1:58:53

Carine Bouffi:2:06:07

A 'run' down the memory lane

Amidst all the accomplished posts, a few words about the joys of sport for a beginner. I never learned how to swim as a child, and yesterday I swam 25yards for the first time ever. And that got me thinking back to a few years ago when I could never have imagined that I would ever run long distances or how much I would grow to love and yearn to run. Growing up in the urban jungle that was my hometown, running was something one did on a treadmill, for only 15minutes at a time. My gym had many members and not enough treadmills and if we didn’t set some time limits, other people would never get a chance :)

Coming to Cincinnati, after my initial adjustment to the relatively cleaner air, the significant decrease in vehicular traffic, and the ridiculous system of temperature units, I saw the wonderful wide sidewalks and in them, an opportunity. I was also fortunate to have some excellent friends, all new to Cincinnati, all very social, and wanting to get outside in the open air – Maria, Rosalia, Mathieu to name a few.

Starting as someone who could run perhaps 2miles at a decent clip, the hills of Clifton trained me to appreciate the view from the top and that it is worth the back-breaking climb. Through several pairs of shoes, numerous knee injuries, a few thousand miles, and I have seen cities and countries like never before.

The first time I ran 13miles, preparing for my first half marathon, my father shouted incredulously down the telephone – ‘20k?? Why would you run 20k? Why would anyone run 20k?’ It only took him two phone calls, and he was back to being the person who trained me through years of competitive skating, when I called him after the race – ‘So how fast did you run? What was your time? What was the winner’s time?’

My favorite part of running has been the cities I run through. I pack my shoes, if there is even a slight chance that I will sneak out for a few quick miles. It has been such a great way to see a new place, feel the pulse of the people, how they greet and make way or grunt and frown (yes, I confess I judge and grudge and yes, I have some favorites :P), feel the ebb and flow of traffic, the different neighborhoods, the university campuses and the young out and about, all under the gorgeous sun. Well, sunny for the most, haha! So far, my favorite runs have been through Forest Park in St Louis, beautiful in its icy splendor in winters and resplendent in the bright hues of summer. And also, a recent crush - a run along Lake Pontchartrain in New Orleans. More stories from my runs for fun in different cities in coming posts!

Forest Park, Jan 2014

Forest Park, Sept 2014