At long last: my Mississauga Marathon report

It’s taken me a while to get around to this, but in case anyone is wondering, I did indeed run the Mississauga Marathon on Sunday.

While there were a lot of people complaining about the weather, I can’t say that I agree – I will take drizzle over becoming like one of those “boil in the bag” products any day.  Not only that, the headwind – which I will concede was quite strong here and there – gave me something to lean on once in a while.

Like last year, I had the benefit of my brother David’s company as a personal pace bunny; mercifully, there was no repeat of the nasty “asthma incident.”  I also had the benefit of a personal cheering station: the route went past my friend Tanya’s parents’ house, and they had quite the set up!  While I am sure everyone was happy to hear the blasting music, bells and tambourines, I was pretty chuffed that it was mainly for me.

As is often the case, the last part of the race is a bit of a blur to me now.  I may have proposed marriage to some people who were handing out bananas.  I distinctly remember insisting to a complete stranger that I was going to die – she looked appalled and ran ahead to put some distance between us (you’re welcome!).  Like the fellow in this video, I did burst into song inside my head a few times.  Strangely, I didn’t think to feel indignant when David was perfectly able to burst into song on the outside while I could barely speak – probably because the inside of my head is a better singer than he is after 4 hours of running.  Near the end, there was a cheering station where some very enthusiastic young people greeted me by chanting “KAR-EN! KAR-EN! KAR-EN!” – yes, my name was on my bib, but what a pick-me-up!

Thanks to the fact that I had to take the second half of this race easy last year, I really had no memory of how rolling the last part of the course is.  It was a fantastic reminder of the fact that when you are 34K into a race, running harder doesn’t feel harder than running slower, and actually feels better than walking.  And when David told me that my goal was still in reach, I had no choice but to dig deep.  I couldn’t bleed it away in the last little bit while I still had any trace of energy left!  In November, I missed my goal by 1 minute and 39 seconds, but I had no regrets because I knew I had used up every ounce of “giddy-up” I had – giving any less this time would have been a crime.  So despite painful obstacles like turns, manhole covers and curbs (seriously! Who puts those at the 40K point in a marathon??!), I threw everything I had into every step, clawing my way forward like some sort of desperate animal.

And you know what? It worked.  Despite feeling less prepared than I had going into my last marathon, despite the harder course and more questionable weather, despite the ache that I had felt from the waist down since about 25K, it worked.  I squeaked in under my goal by about as much as I had missed it by in November.

It’s amazing how making yourself feel so crappy can make you feel so wonderful.