AMOR PERFECT UNION: River Run Full of Charm

At 10 a.m. on Saturday, most Harvard sports fans were probably just rolling out of bed, gearing up to make their way across the river to catch another day of Crimson athletics.

Some were preparing to head over to Harvard Stadium and watch the football team continue its quest for an Ivy League title. Others planned their day around a trip to Ohiri Field, where the men’s soccer team would see its own Ivy hopes dashed, but the women would continue their winning ways behind yet another Lauren Mann shutout.

But while these late-risers prepped themselves for the best that Harvard varsity sports has to offer, they missed out on a true display of grit and determination by a group of real weekend warriors: the participants of the intramurals Fall River Run.

IM’s don’t get a lot of love in athletic circles. I remember one football game, where a teammate and I went on a search for hydration after subbing out for a drive. We came across the varsity football squad’s practice field, where a team manager had set up a table with hundreds of Dixie cups full of water on it. When asked if he could spare just two of them, he looked at us incredulously, as if he couldn’t understand how we could be complaining of thirst after running two slants and a short post route. So what if his team was on its second practice of the day in full pads under the still-scorching September sun?

But while IM athletes may not garner the same recognition as their varsity counterparts, it’s hard not to appreciate an event like the River Run. The truest platform for displaying House pride, the River Run brings together part-time athletes of various shapes, sizes, and states of hung-over to compete for the superiority of their respective residences.

This River Run did not fail to deliver excitement. Participants arrived at Newell Boat House groggy but resolute, donning official House gear and chanting the names of their beloved dormitories as they braved a steady downpour from the heavens.

Of course, no House was more widely represented than legendary Kirkland, whose shield could be seen instilling fear in River-Dwellers and Quadlings alike from its mighty perch on the backs of the K-House faithful from anywhere on the Charles.

(Full disclosure: This reporter is a proud Kirkland resident, but fails to see any inaccuracy or bias in his description of K-Force’s turnout at the River Run.)

Still, while Kirkland’s performance was predictably incredible, it was an individual showing from another House’s resident that put the biggest exclamation point on the Run.

After the men’s race finished, we staked out a spot on the corner of JFK Street and Memorial Drive to cheer on the women. But instead of seeing a group of ladies jockeying for position as they ran our way, there was only one solitary figure charging down the stretch at a seemingly impossible rate, leaving the rest of the pack choking on her dust at least 500 yards behind.

Considering this scene, I came to the only logical conclusion: one of the other houses had employed a robot to win the River Run.

But this was not a Will Smith movie nor was it NBC’s new show “Bionic Woman.” This was Lindsey Scherf, former Harvard cross-country star and Quincy House’s very own ultimate ringer.

The scariest thing about it was that the injured Scherf wasn’t running at anywhere near 100%. She decimated the field in what was basically a routine rehab session for her.

Scherf’s presence, and the general competitive spirit of all the runners involved, gave the River Run a little more credibility than your average IM sporting event. The Run will soon be forgotten as the participants return to the daily grind of problem sets and midterms, and I doubt it changed that football manager’s stance on who he hands out cups of water to, but for part of that Saturday morning, the lowest rung of Harvard athletics had the spotlight all to itself, even if no one was there to watch.

—Staff writer Loren Amor can be reached at lamor@fas.harvard.edu.