2012: The year I ran Around the Bay in shorts

Seriously.

The first time I ran Around the Bay it got to about 6C by the time I was done, and it started to rain when I had 8K to go – and I was happy about the great weather.  The second time I ran ATB, it was -12C at the start, but it was sunny, the winds were minimal, and it warmed up a fair amount while I was running  – and I was happy about the great weather.

This year, it was 10C at the start, 16C by the time I finished, overcast skies with sunny breaks, and a very welcome breeze.  I started the race with arm warmers, but that was more out of paranoia than necessity – I would have been fine without them.  The weather was strange and crazy and lovely – and I wouldn’t have wanted it any warmer, that’s for sure!

I went into it undertrained for the second year in a row – or at least I felt undertrained. I got most of my distance in, though I would have liked one more long run under my belt (that plan was abandoned in favour of babying a sore spot to prevent it from getting worse – since that worked out, I can’t really complain).  I just didn’t get in the speed and strength work I had planned, thanks to the serious need for a mental break over the last couple of months.  Despite my break, however, I came off a strong season of improvements and felt strong enough on race morning.

Goal: beat my personal worst.

Strategy: shut off my brain and just run.

I went to the start and was trying to figure out where in the crowd I belonged when I found a couple of friends who run at a similar pace and lined up with them.  The start was smooth enough – crowded but I wasn’t being held up or passed so I guess I did well when I picked my place! The beginning of the course was fairly quiet, with a few families on their porches cheering, and a few people at intersections here and there.  I made it past the train tracks on Woodward Ave. (where is that, 9K or so?) without seeing a train this year, and crossed the mats at the first relay exchange point. One third done and still feeling good.

Made my way along Beach Blvd. and was quite literally nearly run over by the 3:15 pace bunny – I know he started ahead of me, but I never noticed passing him – though I noticed him passing me because he has sharp elbows.  I kept him in sight for quite a long time as a bench mark.  Despite not having a particular goal in mind, it was a good way to keep my pace fairly consistent.  I enjoyed the signs along this stretch, including signs indicating kilometres to the Boston, Chicaco, New York, Berlin and London marathons, as well as the “short cut.”

I crossed over the mats at 15K and the crowds were getting thicker; I was happy to see that the basset hound was out again this year – basset hound, if are reading this, don’t ever stop howling, okay?  Halfway done but the fun is just beginning.

Almost immediately after that I crossed the lift bridge, which is hard on the soles of your feet as it is a pokey metal grid.

The next few kilometres from halfway to the start of the rolling hills are a bit of a blur in my memory.  I think there was a road, and some other runners, but I can’t really remember much more than that.

Just before the hills began I saw a sign that said it all – something to the effect of “Dig deep, this is where the hills begin,” and for sure, this is where the fun starts.  I passed the 20K mark without incident. Two-thirds finished, single-digit countdown now.

At the 21K mark there was a massive cheering section (by Lululemon?) where there was music and enthusiastic young people in stretchy pants holding signs that said such things as, “Your feet hurt because you’re kicking so much ass!” and “We’re here because you’re here!” and “Less reading, more running!” (all quotes are approximate).

As we were running up a long steady hill (around LaSalle Park, maybe?) a woman turned to me and said “Please tell me this is ‘the’ hill…” I was a little startled as no one had been saying much, but was able to answer, “Uh no…no, not at all.” She asked, “how will I know?”  I replied “You’ll know when you don’t have to ask!” but then I answered her more seriously before she stated that she was really tired then left me in her dust.

Around the same time we passed a group of spectators who had bells and clangers – and were standing there in dead silence.  One woman smiled and said, “Thanks for coming out to cheer!”  On cue they started clanging and cheering – it was pretty funny to me in my delirious state.

Somewhere along Plains Road (I think) there is a church that always plays its bells while a bunch of people in choir gowns cheer out front with big clappers – the giant plastic hands seem rather funny in that context, but the support was appreciated nonetheless!  The sun was coming out here and there and I was feeling so tired mentally – I honestly felt that if I closed my eyes just then, I would fall asleep while still running, then fall on my face. So I made an effort not to close my eyes!  With the warmth of the sun and that strange tired feeling, I was also feeling a little woozy.

Before long I could hear “thump-thump-clap! thump-thump-clap!” As I got closer I could hear the melody of “We Will Rock You” and said “hoo boy, here we go,” to no one in particular.  You see, before you get to “the hill,” you approach it from the side and you can see its entire length from that angle; but before you see it, you can hear where “Stan the Midget,” as he is known in ATB lore, is blasting “We Will Rock You” on repeat before you turn to run down into a gully and over a bridge before the climb begins.  A stranger, who was panting rather hard, began talking to me about the hill, and the area, as he was local – and it was a nice distraction.  I gave Stan a high five, and ran down into the gully with my friend – but I took greater advantage of the downhill than he did and I lost him.  I am sure he passed me back, however, as I was still feeling woozy and decided to walk up the hill.

The hill itself is not that bad. It is roughly 500m long, but you can’t see the top from the bottom thanks to a turn in the road, so just when you think you’re almost done, you round a corner and it gets steeper – 18% grade according to lore – and all of this comes at 26K into a 30K race.  But then you’re at the top, and it’s all downhill from there.

Once I got to the top, I kicked myself back to a run and told myself “listen you, it doesn’t feel any better to walk than it does to run – run and it’s over sooner!”  So I ran.  It hurt, and I didn’t feel good and I really wanted to stop.  I reminded myself that I was supposed to have my brain turned off, so I took in my favourite view of the race – as you cross over a bridge, you can look back out over the Bay and see the bridge you crossed over on the way out – and even as the crow flies it looks so far away. And you think to yourself, “I was there, and now I am here!” And it’s amazing.

Anyway, I passed Mr. and Mrs. Reaper outside the cemetery and focussed on running.  Then I could see Copps Coliseum in the distance and I knew I was almost home – I tried not to stare at it as it feels like it’s not getting any closer.  I passed a guy with a sign that said “Free Beer! Limited quantities” and heard him say, “first 10 dozen runners only!”  I wonder how many people took him up on it.

I got right down towards the edge of Copps when, to my surprise and delight, I heard my name – I turned and saw a crowd of people from The Running Works, the running store where I work on Tuesday nights for run club, and I felt like a rock star as they cheered me on. It distracted me from the fact that I had to run past the Coliseum and around the back, before going down the (very steep when your legs are tired!) ramp. At this point, you burst into the stadium and charge for the finish – or I imagined I did, though I don’t think I had any actual giddy-up at that point. I heard my name called and gave a little fist pump before crossing the finish.

The food area is well organized but it was crowded and hot – good thing I was wearing shorts!