Running Wild

Mississauga marathon exhilirating even from spectator stand

One of the big race weekends happened in Mississauga yesterday.
The Mississauga Marathon and half marathon took place, amid what was a fairly perfect day for a run. Minus the wind of course.
I didn’t run, but was there at the halfway point for the runners in my group many of whom were running their first full marathon.
I have to say despite being a little chilled it was one of the most fun spectating experiences I ever had.
A full marathon is a big deal and when you’re surrounded by marathoners, you sometimes lose sight of that fact.
Well I was reminded of that yesterday when several of my counterparts ran their first one.
You never get that feeling back.
The one that comes with the first one.
That feeling that you have for one or two weeks after.
“I can run the world, I just ran a marathon.” It stays for quite a while from what I remember.
Remarkably everyone did well.
I say remarkably, because when you run that long and that far, sometimes things happen that you didn’t see coming, whether it be an injury or just an off day.
I was airborne a lot yesterday as each one of them came through the half way point, where me Paul and Lori had their extra supplies stashed.
Our fearless leader was first and had a great run to finish his umpteenth marathon.
The first newbie followed right behind.
Ed was one of the newbies to join the marathon clinic this year.
All through the training, there were sparks of this unbelievable speed.
We all saw it but I don’t think anyone was prepared for his first ever marathon.
He came through the mid-way point looking strong.
But you never know how the rest of the race will go, so as our last runners came through the halfway point we headed up to the finish to see people come in.
I think the three of us were near hysterical when he flew by us still in mint condition, well ahead of the four-hour bunny. He finished with a 3:53:58.
We were screaming and yelling and jumping.
He didn’t even notice.
It was pure focus.
More than impressive and continuing to earn his nickname “Fast Eddy”.
Lesley, another newbie, blew our socks off.
An energetic person by nature, she was out of control when she came through the half way point, much sooner than any of us had expected.
I thought to myself we should bottle her enthusiasm and energy and bottle that to sell at future race expos.
Again, I internally worried that the marathon would be unkind in the second half.
Not on this day.
She sailed passed us at the finish and finished super strong, I believe somewhere in the time area of 4:41 and still with a smile and that energy.
In the end, the stories at the finish were fun as they tried to characterize that feeling your body gets that happens in the marathon.
“It’s like your limbs, everything in your body just goes (insert expletive in here).”
Another quote was “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
More expletives followed that.
In the end, it was a good day for all, even those who struggled, making it to the finish line in one piece.
Kudos to all of you on a job well done.
As for me, people want to know what’s going on next. I have a fun 10k in Ottawa in two weeks and then it’s the first-ever all women’s half marathon May 31.
Bring on the firefighters and chocolate.
Fall may bring a marathon surprise, if my name gets pulled in the New York City Marathon lottery.
What will the running Gods decide?
Until then Happy Trails.

Tough run, determined finish at Flying Pig

Up up and away.
The 2009 Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon is in the history books now and my legs haven’t forgiven me yet.
I still groan as I get up, but the more I groan the better I feel because it means I worked hard Sunday.
I won’t keep anyone in suspense. My time goal was 4:15 and I ended up running a 4:21. It’s a new personal best in a marathon for me so I can’t be too upset about it, considering I earned my stripes in this one.
Particularly given the chain of events and the course.
I am a creature of habit before every race, down to how long I spend at the start line and where I fold my race clothes the night before.
I’m not one of those people who likes to spend more than 15 minutes huddled at the start. I like to get  there wait a few minutes soak up the scenery and wait for the gun to go off.
Keeping that in mind, I gave myself enough time to walk over a bridge, spanning the Ohio River, into Cincinnati and head to the start.
As I was walking over I was sweating, but figured I was just a little nervous.
I didn’t clue in to how humid it actually was.
As I got closer to the start I looked at my watch and realized I was cutting it a little close.
I was still standing at the top of the Paul Brown stadium when I heard the national anthem play. The pre-race Zen I was feeling came to a screeching halt.
I quickly stripped my outer layers off while walking. (In hindsight this probably wasn’t a good idea) and I tore down the stadium stairs, inserted myself in the only available space in the sea of more than 16,000 participants.
I felt panicked.
I looked around and nobody was wearing a marathon a bib, except for one poor guy who was trying to move in the crowd beside me. As we tried to edge closer to the front, I could see the sign for the 4:45 minutes pace bunny way up ahead.
At this point I was a little distraught.
I tried not to panic, but it took me about five miles to settle down. Just as I started to find my rhythm the monster hills at Mile 6 started.
Normally someone who looks for flat races, I had limited experience with a hilly 42.2 kilometre route.
It takes a lot of guts to run a challenging course and I managed to find some somewhere.
I trudged up them drinking water and wondering if my pace was too fast because I was feeling as if I was really pushing hard.
When I saw the clock at the halfway mark, I was very confused.
I was behind the time I wanted, but felt as if I was working hard.
So being that I was in the United States and trying convert my pace from miles to kilometres, I gave up and just ran.
It turns out while there were some speckles of rain, it was very humid out there.
I let it go and kept running enjoying the amazing crowd support along the route. Fresh orange slices awaited us at several mile markers and the spectators were really into it.
I was having a mediocre race, but they kept me going, including the state trooper in the last two miles who said, “I see you!, C’mon”
Cincinnati really embraces the weekend and treats the runners so well. I’m still sporting my temporary flying pig  tattoo on my leg with pride.
At Mile 20, my fiancée met me on his rollerblades and as he replenished my Gatorade supply the 4:30 bunny ran past me.
As my eyes welled up in frustration, he looked at me and said, “There’s no crying in the marathon. Don’t get upset, just go.”
And go I did. I was not letting that 4:30 pace bunny out of my sight.
I channelled my frustration into the back of that pace bunny’s head.
I wanted a personal best if it killed me even if it was only by a couple of minutes and even if I had to trip him on the way in. So I ran and ran and ran.
My worst fear is that he would surge ahead of me in the last couple of miles, kicking me in the guts.
It was enough to propel me to work even harder than I already was.
I didn’t feel as bad in those last six miles as I did in the rest of the race.
It was a new feeling for me as the last six miles are usually the hardest. But as I left the 20 mile marker I pretended the race was starting again.
I got in front of that bunny and made sure he was well behind me as I crossed the Finish Swine — a Cincinnati trademark.
As I came running down Pete Rose Way, I could feel the adrenalin pumping. I was hauling at this point.
It was proof to me what many before me said.
The last six miles is all guts.
In the end I beat my personal best by nine minutes and the great part about the race is it left me wanting more.
This marathoner is just getting started.

Cheese burgers can be great motivator

I was driving to work this morning and I was visualizing.
Visualizing the race and the finish line in Cincinnati.
I do this before every big race and it helps.
It sounds a little silly, but I’ve been doing it for years. And, on a training run, I will picture my friends waiting for me on the sidelines as I run by.
I picture meeting my goal. I picture running a personal best. I picture looking around and feeling the exhilaration of race day.
Sometimes I picture cheese burgers.
Actually, I picture cheese burgers and nachos a lot.
They’re my post race favourites.
I do this while I drive, while I sit at my desk and before I go to sleep.
It helps motivate me.
Another thing that helps motivate me is the group of runners around me who wished me well Wednesday night.
We’ve trained together through the winter months and through the rain and will definitely come to mind when I’m struggling.
Last night, as we sat around a table having our usual post run coffee, I suddenly felt as if I was on the Price is Right.
I’ve held my time goal close to my chest this time for fear of not being able to make it.
As usual I have an A goal, B goal and C goal.
I always tell people to do this, so that if you happen to wake up and have a bad run, you still have a goal you can meet.
All I will divulge is that my C goal is a personal best.
So the bids started, 4:15, 4:09: 4:00.
They started saying times, figuring I’d buckle.
I have a good poker face.
Rest assured I will tell you after what I was aiming for and if I got it.
I only told one person about two weeks ago and he will not tell a soul.
This is, after all, the reason we train.
It’s race weekend and as I frantically check the forecast and make sure I have all my race gels lined up, I’m also figuring out slogans for my bib and my arm.
What goes on the arm is for when I hit the wall.
The wall comes in various forms and for me it means feeling as if my legs are moving fast when they’re really not. This usually happens around 36 or 37K.
I’ve had great training and great races preceding this run, so I have high hopes.
I’m looking forward to seeing all the volunteers and spectators cheering us on.
So oink, oink, by the time you read this I will be well on my way to the Flying Pig Marathon down in Cincinnati, as giddy as can be.
Thanks to all of you have supported me the whole way through.

Race officiating provides different perspective to run

Rain seems to be the prescription for a lot of big races this year.
We’ve had an unusually wet, spring.
I had the pleasure of volunteering as a route marshal at the Hartwell Challenge in Aurora last Sunday and what a great experience it was despite the weather challenge.
A route marshal essentially makes sure that the runners are obeying the road rules and staying on the race course.
We are also charged with keeping an eye on things in general, overseeing our part of the race course.
There’s no other place I would rather be than on the course when I’m not running.
You get to encourage participants see the speedsters and be a part of things.
In a turn from the hot, sunny day Saturday, we woke up Sunday morning at 5:30 a.m. to windy, rainy weather.
Not exactly for runners and walkers, but it could have been worse, believe me.
Despite the couple of serious downpours, there were some stellar times in all events and some newly marked first time goals completed successfully.
Being stationed as a marshal at the 19K mark of the half marathon and at the 2.5K turnaround for the 5K walk and run was a lot fun, mostly because I always like watching and I loved the enthusiasm of the volunteers from Aurora High School who were working the water station beside me.
I can’t think of something less appealing than sitting out in the pouring rain without an umbrella holding water for roughly three hours.
These Grade 10 students came out and did it with an enthusiasm that surprised me.
As soon as they saw how invaluable they were to both the runners and walkers, they carefully planned out where to stand on the route to make sure they were accessible with their cups of Gatorade and water.
They could have just stood there with a sullen expression on their face wracking up their community volunteer hours and itching to get out of there.
On the contrary they took their jobs seriously and even cheered the runners in as they came in for their last two kilometres.
Without volunteers such as these students, these races would not be successful.
When I ran the Niagara Marathon, it was high school students who kept me upbeat until I got to the end.
They cheered and encouraged me all the way and these volunteers did the same on Sunday.
Congratulations to all the runners and walkers who accomplished their goals last weekend.

No obstacle too great for Ball

Some people give you enough inspiration to last a lifetime.
Rick Ball is that type of guy.
I’ve written about Rick before, but in case you didn’t read those posts, Rick lost his leg in a motorcycle accident years ago.
About a year and a half ago, he took up running.
But he didn’t only take up running.
He has broken through any barrier set before him.
He ran his first marathon in 3:17:38.
For those of you who don’t know, that is an amazing time by anyone’s standard one leg or two.
If that wasn’t impressive enough he ran his second marathon in 3:10:11.
When he dropped by Thornhill in February to speak about his running with my marathon clinic, he said he was chasing the world record for a marathon run by an amputee.
The record was 3:04:16 held by multiple record holder Amy Palmiero-Winters who ran that in the Chicago Marathon in 2006.
When he spoke I have to admit I can be a bit of a sceptic, but something about how relaxed he was made me believe him.
In fact, I would have been surprised if he didn’t do it.
He was on my mind during the day, as I was wondered how he was doing.
The Boston Marathon is the most prestigious marathons you can run in. It’s the only one you need to qualify with a certain time to get into and when you get there its not an easy marathon route.
The best of the best go there and Rick joined them for the first time on Monday.
And of course he broke the world record with an amazing run at 3:01:50.
To give you an idea about the kind of guy Rick is, he dropped me an e-mail after someone found the first blog I wrote about him.
He thanked me for writing about him.
He values everyone’s kind words, almost a little surprised at how inspiring he is to all of us.
The thing about Rick is that he is real. He didn’t candy coat the race. He was suffering with cramps, he was dizzy and he ended up in a wheel chair where he almost passed out.
He admitted it was the hardest thing he’s ever done.
He left it all out there on the roads in Boston.
It’s something to be admired. How could you not be inspired after seeing that effort?
I heard him on the radio this morning being interviewed and typically as each goal he sets, he meets, he’s already got another.
He wants to go to compete at the Olympic level in London, England in 2012.
He also wants to break the three hour mark in his next marathon.
I couldn’t think of better goals to aim for than that.
In case you’re reading Rick, congrats on a race result well deserved.

Male runners help set pace

I’m almost through my marathon training now and, for the past few weeks, there’s been something different about my training.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I figured it out a few weeks back.
I’ve been running with guys.
Now, there are plenty of men and women in my marathon clinic; in fact, if I were to guess at a raw number, I think it’s probably close to an even split.
But as with any group of runners we inevitably split up into groups that match our paces.
A few weeks back, I looked around on one of our Sunday long runs and I thought, hey where are all the girls?
Usually, there are a couple of us, but as the training wore on it became me and the guys as a fixture.
I have to say there’s a pretty big difference, I’ve noticed.
Among my girlfriends when I run, there’s usually one level-headed person who says, “hey our pace is a little fast for a training run”.
There are flashes of rational thinking among this group of guys, but it is faint and definitely not the norm.
There’s an undercurrent of competitiveness.
But I have to admit I like it.
It’s actually kind of motivating.
It’s like running with a bunch of big brothers.
And there’s a certain sense of satisfaction at being able to hold my own with this group.
There are all kinds of statistics about how much stronger men are then women due to their physical make up.
I won’t lie.
At the outset of training, I didn’t think I would still be hanging around during the long distances.
I thought once it got into 25k and up I’d be too tired to keep up, but I’m still here.
It’s funny when you run for this many weeks with a group you start to notice patterns.
Paul is our pacer, depending on what mood he’s in, sometimes he’ll push us other times he’ll keep us steady.
Lee stays behind to start and then ramps it up at about 10 or 12k into the run. When he’s in ramp mode he’s miles ahead.
Hassan is forever disappearing, taking a short cut and then reappearing somewhere else on the route.
Tony is strong and steady and the silent pace setter of the group.
He’ll argue otherwise of course. He’ll blame me for whatever speed we’re going.
Tony is strong and steady and the silent pace setter of the group.
He’ll argue otherwise of course. He’ll blame me for whatever speed we’re going.
 John Lang our fearless leader comes with a smile and pleasant demeanour but always manages to ramp up the pace without anyone noticing.
And then there’s the other John, steady as ever rounding out the group always the conversationalist even when we’re having a tough run.
These little habits have become my Sunday norm.

Pre-race jitters starting early

It’s happening.
The paranoia that often sets in a few weeks before any of my marathons, is starting early this year.
Sometimes, it strikes me two weeks out, other times three weeks out, mostly it’s just the last week or so, that I start thinking that every time I walk there’s a pain in my foot, or an ache in my back.
Many of these symptoms are psychosomatic. I’ve grown to realize this as have those around me, who know it’s just me talking out loud wondering if that little pinch in my calve really means anything.
It starts to creep up on you. All those Sundays when everyone is having a nice quiet breakfast as the wind howls outside and you put on running shoes regardless of the weather because you have to get in your training.
You see it in the faces of the drivers who go past you on those January mornings when only those walking their beloved pets are out there.
It’s the feeling of having trudged through winter unhindered, training like there was no tomorrow and the simple realization that all the work was coming down to a few hours a few days from now.
I’m forever in fear of hot weather.
Whenever someone says, “What a beautiful day out here,” I’m always the one who says, “I wish it was a touch cooler.”
Perhaps this comes partially from being traumatized at the 2007 Chicago Marathon where it was canceled due to heat or maybe it’s because my body doesn’t react well to the heat.
So, this morning, I thought I would check the weather forecast in Cincinnati and I almost had a heart attack.
By the end of the week, the high is going to be around 21 degrees.
Checking the weather is the worst thing I could have done.
I promptly went to the website to see photographs from last year to check out what people were wearing.
Of course, it was shorts and tank tops.
Shorts and tank tops are my greatest fear.
That means hot weather.
So I’m trying to make myself feel better by thinking about the nice early 6:30 a.m. start that should give me at least a couple of hours of cool time before the heat starts up.
I’m just plain ignoring the heat illness survey on the race website.
So I guess it’s safe to say the race paranoia has set in roughly about 19 days, 17 hours, 28 minutes and one second before race day.

Always listen to your body when competing

I feel it’s my duty to post a link up here to a story that ran in the Toronto Star this week.
http://www.thestar.com/article/610631
I always read the stories related to the health risks of doing marathons or triathlons. I always read them because there is always a good tip or two on something to look out for.
I agree with some of what this article says in that the popularity of running and doing triathlons has grown rapidly in the past 10 years, with all types of people trying.
While the statistics may seem alarming,  I’m a big advocate of everybody trying these sports out, provided they are healthy enough to do so.
I also take a lot of studies with a grain of salt, as everybody is different and the effects of a race are often left in your control.
For example, if you aren’t feeling well during a race, it is your responsibility to ensure that you slow down and take stock of what you’re feeling.
Despite that,  I thought I would post this just as information for any of you wannabe or continuing triathletes out there.
Have a good weekend.
Happy trains.
Good luck to Paul who is in Dearborn, Mich. running the Martian Marathon Sunday.

Singing in the rain, I'm singing in the rain

Remember when you were young and you loved to run and play in the rain?
Well, the adult version of that childhood memory happened this weekend at the Around the Bay road race in Hamilton.
In the days leading up the to the race, I monitored the weather forecast diligently, hoping that maybe for once technology wasn’t spot on with predictions.
When I woke up Sunday morning and saw the rain and heard the wind howling, I wasn’t thrilled.
OK, I admit, I was cursing.
In all my years of running, I’ve never had to endure constant rain. Well once, many moons ago at the first-ever Toronto Zoo race.
That wasn’t really a good gauge though, because it was only 10K.
Around the Bay is 30K and I have to say I was a little concerned about chafing with the wet weather promising to be brutal. Trying to figure out what to wear was a challenge, but I knew to stay away form overdressing.
I still have nightmares of that first 10K partially because it was before I discovered dry fit.
Anyway, I have to say I look forward to this race every year. There’s a sense of accomplishment finishing this race that I haven’t really felt in other races other than marathons.
Designed to kill you at the end, the first 19K is flat and then the rolling hills start and as you hit the 26K mark there is one unsightly hill you have to climb up.
This was the third year I ran the race and this year I will admit was the first time I walked up parts of that hill.
My planning for the race was a little less than stellar this year.
OK, it was downright unorganized.
I wanted my running mate, Paul, to pace me to just beat the three-hour mark.
He has paced us on our long runs and has done a great job, keeping us in check when we need it and pushing us when he wants to challenge us.
Well, I didn’t think to get his phone number so that we could meet up before the race.
This will be important later.
As we drove there, the rain pelted down on the car and, inside, I was miserable at the prospect of running for that long in the rain. I was picturing the welts and cuts I would endure in the shower later if my clothes rubbed me the wrong way.
On the outside, I was a picture of positivity as I was riding there with two first time Around the Bay racers. I wanted them to be as positive as ever as they took to the start line.
So, we hid in Copps Coliseum still watching the rain pelt down.
We hid as long as we could and then got down to the start line with two minutes to the start gun.
When I realized the time, I freaked out ran up the line hoping to catch a glimpse of the red and black jacket that Paul wears, but with thousands of runners, this was an impossible feat.
So I found a part of the crowd where I saw some familiar if not very fast faces and made a snap decision.
With no watch, and no Paul I decided to take the words of advice my friend Les had for me at the start line.
“Just relax and run. You’ll probably have your best race.”
Little did I know that Les was clairvoyant too.
I ran and ran and ran. I stepped in puddles, my arms were freezing, my cotton gloves were wet and I was chilled to the point of shivering at times.
But I love that race.
Love it.
It is a well organized and a historic race, older than the prestigious Boston Marathon.
I figured this year there would be less crowd support, but there was still a really strong showing, even a lady with a Kleenex box for our runny noses.
In the end, I finished with a personal best by 12 minutes and was thrilled when I saw the clock. With a quick fist pump I crossed the finished and hugged my running mate Tony, who also ran a PB.
If you’re on the fence about running Around the Bay, don’t be.
I don’t have a bad thing to say about it.
They just need a  weather machine next year.

Goals can make difference

When Silvia Ruegger was young and wanted to go for an early morning run, her mother would follow her in the car so her way would be lit.
Running on the dark country roads of Newtonville,  became a way of life for the future Olympian.
She still remembers that vividly now.
Silvia came to speak to my marathon group last week and her talk was so inspiring I think everyone wanted to go and write their goals down and try to accomplish them.
First, I must start, for those of you who don’t know, Silvia still holds the record for the fastest women’s marathon run at 2:28:36.
It has been the record for almost 25 years.
The time is obviously incredible and more astonishing given she didn’t have the technology of electrolyte drinks and energy gels we have.
She ran on pure water.
She ran in the first-ever women’s Olympic marathon in 1984 in Los Angeles.
Once you get over the shock that women only started running the Olympic marathon in 1984, her participation in that historic event becomes even more amazing.
Whenever a decorated athlete — particularly an Olympian — comes for a talk, I find myself studying their every move, the way they walk and talk, to see what’s different.
What makes them special?
Is it something you can notice by just watching them?
I can never find one thing in common other than this drive, from the inside that keeps them striving for the top.
With Silvia, even though her historic marathon was nearly 25 years ago, she could recount everything as if it happened yesterday. Her dedication and drive echoed through the room and every one of us was fixated on what she was saying.
At the beginning of her talk, Silvia said, “Some people wonder what they might have in common with me, but there’s a lot.”
She came armed with something I thought was really special and it allowed me to see what I have in common with her.
When she was 15 and watching the 1976 Montreal Olympics, she was so inspired she took a scrap of paper wrote down a goal, to represent Canada at the Olympic games in 1980.
She then folded it and slid it between the two floor boards in her bedroom. She covered the crack with masking tape and coloured the tape grey to match the floor.
She kept it a secret.
Well, in a frame alongside her Olympic bib, is the note that she eventually went back and took back from beneath the floor.
I rubbed the bib for luck as did many of the others there.
She achieved her goal in 1984 and told us that just because you don’t make your goal on the schedule you set for yourself, doesn’t mean you should stop trying.
Good advice.
I went home that night and wrote something on a piece of paper with the date.
She inspired me.
I hid it and didn’t tell anyone.
I always write goals down on paper, ones that are important. I was recently at my parents’ house in my old room.
And while I’d been there many times, since I had moved out, I forgot about the two goals I had stuck to my mirror.
One was a half marathon time I wanted to beat and the other a marathon time I wanted to beat. I wrote those well before marathons were even on my radar.
I’m pleased to say, both goals were met and then some.
Aside from goal-setting, I think one of the most important points Silvia shared with us, was her story about having to fight injuries and the not so smooth path to her goal.
This is the time where our body is good to us or bad to us.
It is the time when we fear injuries and that our body is fatigued.
We’re well into our training and there’s only a few weeks left before our goal races. 
Silvia was excelling at her sport when she injured her Achilles tendon.
The injury forced her to take two and a half years off from training, but instead of being upset she took to the pool for water running and pedalling on stationary bikes to keep her cardio up.
In the end she made it to Los Angeles as the youngest competitor in her field finishing an amazing eighth place.
Her talk was inspirational and I believe everyone of us could relate to her on one level or another.
It was the perfect inspiration for the Around the Bay road race this weekend.
I will post about that tomorrow.