Running Around America's Largest Backyard

This past weekend, I ran around America’s largest backyard with a group of girlfriends. The run was my second, one friend’s first, and another friend’s 16th half-marathon. The Asheville Half-Marathon, held on the Biltmore Estate, was the perfect excuse to reunite our old running crew. We used to run the streets and trails of Hattiesburg twice a week, before different career paths dispersed us around the south.

Despite a threatening forecast of pouring rain, race morning was clear and cool.

The course started out smooth, but quickly transitioned into two back-to-back hills. Training in the flatlands of Mississippi was the perfect preparation. (Not at all true). The second hill offered two continual miles of elevation gain and the onset of stomach pains. Already? Awesome. The downhill portion was just long enough to catch my breath, before needing to kick into gear to charge upwards.

The course led straight to the front doors of the Biltmore Estate, and boomeranged us back to the garden entrance. Around mile seven the course thankfully flattened out. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking and a welcome distraction – manicured gardens, rustic hills, pastures, and bodies of water.

Physically and mentally, the toughest part of the course was the last three miles. I was ready to push myself for the last 5K because “hey, I’ve run tons of these!” Unfortunately, the subtle stomach cramp that had been bothering me came on in a stronger wave. The course skirted the finish line and put us on a dirt/gravel out-and-back. These last few miles seemed to stretch on forever. It felt like my last mile was going to take over 10 minutes. My stomach cramps were not relenting. Was I going to let myself walk a few strides? I crossed paths with a tough older chick and she told me to “dig deep, keep pushing.” Clearly, pain was written on my face. Her words stuck a chord and I tried to channel my pain into determination. The never-ending out-and-back led to a gradual climb. Great. Rounding the bend I could see the clock read 1:39. What?! I could get a PR! At that critical point I kicked it into high gear and sprinted down the hill to the finish line.

After the other girls finished, we printed out our results ticket. At first, I only looked at my overall time, 1:40:39. Then I noticed, “First Place.” Amazing! I got the exact same time as my last half-marathon and placed! What the heck?!

That evening, a few of us stopped by the awards ceremony. My name was called, a smile broke across my face, and my friends cheered and took pictures. The announcer joked that I had brought my own PR crew. Ha! Well that’s appropriate since I work in public relations.

Receiving awards and scoring personal records feels amazing; I cannot lie about that. But without a doubt my favorite parts are moments like the lone woman cheering me on, the camaraderie with friends, and the collective celebration of individual triumphs.

The rest of the weekend was dedicated to eating and wandering. We hit up the following Asheville restaurants, all of which I would go back to in a heartbeat. Fresh, local ingredients and creative décor made each space feel special and unique.

First Day