New Orleans: A Marathon, Not a Sprint

By Jim Hage
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, February 6, 2006

NEW ORLEANS, Feb. 5 -- As much as any sport, marathon running pushes its competitors to their limits, exhausting their reserves of fortitude and determination. Sunday's 41st Mardi Gras Marathon -- the first major athletic event in New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina devastated the city in late August-- was emblematic of those qualities in more than just the runners.

Appropriately, a native New Orleanian, Brandan Minihan Jr., finished first over the 26.2-mile course, which weaved through the shattered landscape and eerie quiet of what were once vibrant neighborhoods. Minihan and his catch-22 teammates wore singlets that read, "New Orleans, Proud to Call It Home," and many runners spoke of how this race meant a return to normalcy despite the lingering reminders of the most harrowing moments of their lives.

"We want to let everyone know that New Orleans is still here," said Minihan, 30, a middle-school teacher in nearby Metairie. "We're working hard, and we're going to get it all back."

Nonetheless Minihan, who finished in 2 hours 35 minutes 11 seconds, was all business once the race began.

"I was focused during the race," he said. "I wasn't looking around."

The opening miles revealed a French Quarter intact but subdued and operating at less than full capacity, just as the upcoming Mardi Gras festival will be shortened and likely quieter than normal. A two-mile stretch along Esplanade Avenue showed storm damage to many of the century-old mansions, most of which were in the process of varying degrees of renovation. Heading north, the runners passed countless abandoned and looted cars and boats.

The field next entered City Park, which borders Lake Pontchartrain and was inundated by Katrina. A one-mile detour onto Mirabeau Avenue east of the Bayou St. John was a wasteland of ruined single-story homes. Occasionally, a trailer in the driveway and the noise of a generator indicated an intrepid homeowner.

But Midcity, a neighborhood of modest middle-class bungalows south of the park and on the way back to the Superdome between miles 8 and 10 provided the most startling sights for runners. Entire neighborhoods lay abandoned and rotting from flood waters that rose as high as 10 feet.

"Nobody can believe it until they see it, and the Ninth Ward makes this look like nothing," said George Owen, a running apparel store owner downtown who said the storm cost him little "but for half my customers.

"Business is starting to come back a little, but nothing's going to be the same around here."

Brandon Wingate, Minihan's training partner who finished seventh in 2:50:16, had been rescued by boat from the roof of his apartment building the day after the storm when the 17th Street Canal was breached two blocks away.

"I've really got no desire to see that area again," Wingate, 31, said a few days before the race while on a break from his job in the Winn-Dixie meat department two miles from his former apartment.

Bryan Smith, 43, also lived near the canal and has since moved to Thibodaux, La., about 50 miles away. But he meets with Minihan, Wingate and others for regular workouts along the Mississippi River levee at the city's Audubon Zoo.

"It helps to train together, we push each other," Smith said. "It's good to get a routine going; it's good to see everyone. After the storm, it took weeks to find all our buddies, to know if they were alive. I didn't run much at all."

Wingate, likewise, bemoaned his lost fitness in the wake of the hurricane.

"End of summer, I was in real good shape," he said. "But after the storm, I was moving from place to place so much and living on my own that I lost a lot of fitness."

It falls to Chuck George, executive director of the New Orleans Track Club, to encourage and promote an activity as ordinary as running in the stricken area. Since the hurricane, however, his job has grown considerably more difficult as NOTC members have scattered as if carried away by Katrina's fierce winds.

The city's population has decreased by more than half, but club membership has declined by less, from 2,200 members before the storm to 1,800 now. The Mardi Gras marathon, half marathon and 5K, with registration of 3,154 runners, was down one-third from last year but marked a major triumph for race director Bill Burke and George's NOTC.

"We've had surprisingly good attendance at some of our smaller club races over the past five months," said George, who has been a leader in the club for 25 years. "It's been gratifying to see our members rally from all over the area and participate. But there's no doubt that this is our finest hour."

Burke, at the start in the shadow of the Superdome, was equally pleased. "It couldn't have come out better. To think what was happening right here five months ago, it's just surreal how far we've come."

Certainly no one had ever run on a marathon course quite like this. A group of seven from Reston came to "spend a little money and show support for the city and her residents," according to Anna Bradford, a social worker for trauma survivors at Inova Fairfax Hospital. The group ran with yellow singlets that read, "Reston Runners Love New Orleans."

"None of us came here to race," said Bradford, president of the club. "It's just about being here."

For natives who lived through the storm, the fact the event happened at all was enough. Cathy Voelkel, 48, ran the half marathon and past her former neighborhood in Lakeview. These days, she lives in a FEMA-provided trailer in nearby Metairie. Voelkel, a native New Orleanian, rode out the storm with her sister in Shreveport, La.

"You deal with it," Voelkel said. "It's part of life. This race, this is what's important. Runners are such good people, it's good to share a day with them. It's good to be back on a routine."