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About those Merrell shoes you can win. . .

Hopefully by now everyone knows that iRun produced a gear and gift guide for the Boston Marathon. Here’s a link to it if you haven’t seen it yet. As part of the fun, we produced an alphabets worth of stuff we love, and got elite runners to do the same. Merrell makes arguably the world’s best trail shoes and they’re M in our listings. What’s your favourite thing that we mention? Tell us in the comments section or on Twitter or Facebook and you can win the shoes that Alex Flint and his partner Anna Kobb write about down below. Want great trail shoes? Read the issue. Read this review. Tell us what’s Your Favourite Thing. 

Anna Kobb on the Merrell Bare Access Flex Knit

When I first started trail running, I wore the road shoes I already had. This worked to get started, but as I grew as a trail runner the shoes felt clumsy, and I eventually purchased trail shoes. I’ve since tried many different brands and found what works for me, and what doesn’t. This week I got to try the Merrell Bare Access Flex Knit, and have found them to be a rare shoe that offers a lot more than you might expect.

The first thing that I noticed was the versatility of this shoe. It’s responsive and lightweight enough for trails, but offers enough support and padding for the roads too. It has a flexible 3D Knit upper body, a locking lacing system, and reinforced heel security. The flexible knit upper is soft and hugs your foot more like a sock that a shoe and the lacing system makes it easy to tighten and loosen the shoe in a flash, and is integrated into the sidewall of the shoe, to keep your foot in place. The reinforced heel band wraps around the back of your foot, offering additional support.

The Bare Access Flex Knit also has all the other features I like to see in a shoe: zero drop, a wide toe box, vegan friendly, both pretty (aqua) and practical (black) colours, and perhaps most importantly—a tread that grips the ground as you run.

Overall this shoe performed great, both on the trail and the road. A word to the wise, they fit big, so you may need to size down a half or full size. I recommend trying them on if you can. The Bare Access Flex Knit are an excellent choice if you want style and comfort in a shoe you can take anywhere.

Alex Flint on the Merrell Bare Access Flex Knit

If you run on roads and trails of every type, from sidewalks to muddy single track, it can be challenging to have the right shoe for every occasion without breaking the bank and your shoe rack. This week I’ve been testing the new Merrell Bare Access Flex Knit and it might just be the solution.

Merrell’s new Knit line might stir up comparisons to another brand of knit shoes that swooshed onto the market in recent years, but these are very different shoes with a very different heritage.

The Bare Access Flex Knit—and the Trail Glove 4 Knit, which I haven’t yet tested—are both vegan friendly and zero drop runners with a 3D knit upper. They share a lacing system similar to some triathlon shoes, which makes them easy to slip on and tighten, even while wearing gloves. The upper is a soft and flexible mesh that flexes and breathes really well.

One challenge I’ve had with lightweight shoes in the past is the heels not hugging my foot tightly enough. Merrell has addressed that with what they’re calling Hyperlock, a TPU band around the back of the shoe that grips your heel. It keeps your foot from sliding around too much, and is durable enough for you to slip them on and off without breaking down. The shoes do tend to fit big though, so you might wear a size smaller than usual. I recommend trying them on before you buy, or buying from a store with a generous exchange policy.

The sole of the Bare Access Flex Knit is Merrell’s M-Select Grip, whereas the Trail Glove 4 Knit uses a Vibram sole. The M-Select Grip is stiffer in my experience, but that could result in a longer lasting sole, and more protection for your feet from sharp rocks and roots.

Running on both trails and roads, the Bare Access were responsive, comfortable and gripped well. Their tread is aggressive enough for damp, leaf covered trails, but didn’t make running on pavement feel uneven or uncomfortable. It’s a perfect balance that makes these shoes a great choice if you want a flexible shoe, both physically and in use.

Clive Whitlock remembers his dad on the eve of the Ed Whitlock Waterloo Half Marathon

The St. John Ambulance Waterloo Marathon is April 29 in Waterloo, Ontario and it has events in the marathon and half marathon. This year, the half marathon has been christened the Ed Whitlock half marathon, in recognition of Ed’s 36 world records, contributions to our sport, and numerous runs on this gorgeous course. iRun will be there, as will Clive Whitlock, who ran with his dad at 14 in Montreal when Ed first attempted the 42.2K distance. We caught up with Clive and asked him about his dad, racing, and Ed’s legacy.

iRun: What does it mean to you to have the half marathon in Waterloo named after your dad?

Clive: I feel honoured that they would do that for my Dad. 

iRun: After everything in October about Ed at STWM, how does it make you feel, the outpouring of affection for him and what is it about your dad that you think affected so many people?

Clive: Alan Brookes mentioned that the number of participants in the Scotiabank Waterfront Marathon grew by leaps and bounds over the years, and he attributed some of that to my Dad serving as an inspiration to people of all ages—that it’s never too late to participate in events such as this.

iRun: I miss his smile and wry comments. He once told me that if you want to know if someone has potential to become a great marathon runner, shine a light through his ear and if you can see the light out of the other side, odds are you’ve got a good prospect. What do you miss? Can you describe him a little bit, outside of his running shoes?

Clive: I guess that’s my Dad’s wry sense of humour. I think that long distance runners are probably among the most ambitious, educated, affluent demographic out there.

iRun: I’m glad to hear you recently ran the Robbie Burns race. Is it true that it was your marathon that started your dad on his marathon quest? How old were you when you ran your first marathon in Ottawa and what do you remember about that race?

Clive: The first marathon my Dad and I ran together was the 1976 Montreal Marathon, which was two months prior to the first Ottawa Marathon we ran together. I was 14 and my Dad just turned 45. We finished together. Our time was 3.09.30. The race was in March, which in Montreal is downright cold to be running a marathon. It was a four-lap race on Montreal’s north shore. We were running a great pace for the first three laps and were well on pace to run a sub 3-hour marathon, but I hit the wall about half way through the last lap and struggled to finish. I know I was slowing my Dad down, but he stayed with me, to give me the incentive to finish the race.

iRun: It’s good to have you on record to sort out some of the history. I always thought it was Ottawa where you first raced. 

Clive: Regarding the marathons my Dad and I ran in Ottawa, the first one was in May 1976 when I was still 14 and my Dad 45, just two months after the Montreal Marathon, which was our first marathon. We ran the first Ottawa one in 2.58.26. Although this was a slower time than what I ran the following year, it was the easiest marathon I’ve ever ran—running a perfectly paced race and feeling as though I could have ran another five miles after finishing. 

We ran the Ottawa again in 1977, we I was 15 and my Dad 46. We ran a 2.52.13. I remember we were overtaking a lot of runners in the latter stages of the race between Parliament Hill and Carleton, but once again, I started to run out of gas about two miles from the finish and that slowed our time down.

iRun: What do you remember most about those races?

Clive: Obviously, in all the times my Dad ran marathons with me, he was doing it for me, not himself. He could have ran far better times on his own.

iRun: Ahead of this great event in Waterloo, could you have had any idea, at the time, that a marathoning legend was being born?

Clive: No, even though I was fully aware that I was slowing my Dad down during the times that I ran marathons with him. I always thought that at that particular time in the 1970’s, he preferred to run the shorter distances on the track (i.e 800-10,000 metres etc). I think he really started to get into the marathons in his late 60’s when he realized that no one over the age of 70 had ever ran a marathon in under 3 hours.

iRun: What did he think about that? 

Clive: He thought that was an attainable goal.

Krista DuChene on her historic Boston Marathon finish

You know when you create this crazy story in your mind that race conditions will be so bad that it will work to your favour and you will get a podium finish at the Boston Marathon?

The manager/agent. I woke up around 4:25 am, just 5 min before my alarm and headed down to the dining room of the Fairmount Copley to have my usual marathon breakfast of a toasted bagel with honey and coffee. Jonathan was a good sport to join me that early. His jokes about being my manager/agent kept me laughing all weekend and I really enjoyed his company. After all, he helped prepare my bottles, decide on appropriate apparel for the cold and rainy forecast, and pass the time watching a string of Ben Stiller movies. In the evening he headed out to watch sports with his new friend, Bernie Chisolm, Eric Gillis’ St. F. X. coach, while I tucked into bed. One night was a trip to the stadium for a Red Sox game, thanks to the incredibly generous and caring elite coordinator, Mary Kate. He had it pretty rough.

The start. Around 7 a.m. we waved goodbye, the amazing volunteers had accounted for each and every athletes’ race number and shoes, and we were warmly sent off with towels around our shoulders to board the bus to Hopkinton. After a very short walk to the bus, my feet were already cold and wet. I vowed to keep them warm and dry so put on a new pair of socks and used the heat vent on the bus to dry my first pair. I did this again after walking into the church upon arrival, and yet again after my warm up. It was one of those days where you definitely erred on the side of caution, not going for typical race fashion. I wore what I had planned to be a throw away shirt over my singlet and arm warmers, my longer shorts, and long compression socks. On my head I had a beanie hat because of the cold, which I wore under my cap because of the rain, which held my clear lens sunglasses I might use because of the wind. Lastly, I had two pairs of gloves on my hands, one which I threw away. We lined up for the 9:32 a.m. elite women’s start and were greeted by what may possibly have been hail. I was ready for it.

The execution. After the gun we were in one massive group, jogging our first kilometre in over 4 minutes. I can’t remember exactly when but at some point I backed off from what became a decent-sized lead pack. I knew I didn’t want to get carried away in what can too easily and regrettably be the fastest part of the race due to the downhill. At 5 km I grabbed my Eload fluid and Endurance Tap gel, and at every one after that, aside from the gel at 30 km and both the gel and bottle at 40 km. Fuel and fluid plan complete.

The pace. My plan for the race was to stay controlled, consider the “real” start at 25 km with the hills, and begin picking off the competition in the later parts of the race if I could. I knew the conditions could be favourable to me, and not so to others. I trained in yet another snowy Canadian winter with a colder than normal spring, and was conditioned far more for strength than speed. On a good day I knew I couldn’t go under 2:30 but hoped to stay under 2:40. My text book training build of eight 35-40+ km long runs, nine training weeks of ~160 km, one complete rest day/week, countless hills, and zero illnesses/injuries had me feeling confident as I chipped away at the kilometres. Coach Dave had me prepared. Although I was likely running around the same pace as my 2:46 in Hamilton in 2009, the fuel stations seemed to be one right after the other. Today was not about time. It never was.

The possibility. I could see the lead pack a ways ahead and at one point I got fairly close but it didn’t last long. I kept running by feel, hoping the pack would disperse and I’d possibly make the top 15. My ultimate goal was top 3 in the masters and I wasn’t going to risk that. I can’t remember exactly but somewhere around 37 km, when I thought I was running solo, I was suddenly passed by two unfamiliar American women. I had recently passed a few other women and saw one drop out. I was still feeling good and it occurred to me that I had more to give and should keep up for a potential top 10 placing. The cheering got as intense as the weather and I just kept rolling. It was the first time I felt like it was some sort of an out of body experience in a 42.2 km race. It was odd. And that’s a lot to be said after already completing 14.

The crazy. Then that story began to enfold. The two women just ahead were throwing fist pumps and I wondered why they seemed to doing what looked like celebrating. Then I passed Molly. I heard someone say Shalane was ahead. I passed her and Edna and another African. I was so confused, like something had gone wrong in the race. The media trucks and motorcycles were approaching as the lead man was living what he later described to be a similar story; he only knew his place because of the way he was directed to cross the line—to break the tape!

The sirens, the cheering, the horns. The wind, the rain, the nearly approaching Boylston. It was crazy. In the last few kolimetres I had no idea how many I passed. I lastly caught one of the two American women who had passed me, and didn’t see any other women around me so felt it was safe to celebrate by throwing a few fists pumps of my own into the air. I was immediately cared for and chaperoned by a male volunteer and female doping control escort. Then I asked the volunteer for the first of many times, about my placement. His phone wasn’t getting a signal, but he thought 3rd or 4th. I had to rephrase the question, “No, not the masters, overall what did I place?” Again, he said he thought 3rd or 4th, but wasn’t sure. But then there wasn’t anyone else in the recovery area. And everyone I saw was congratulating me. Jonathan then appeared, who too didn’t know how I placed and I said, “They’re telling me I was third” like it was some sort of joke. He kinda shrugged his shoulders and began assisting the medical staff with getting me warm so I could stop shaking and shivering. Hard to believe I felt good running in that cold, wet and windy weather until I stopped, walked, and returned indoors. I was in shock and disbelief and all I could think about was when I was shaking during the birth of our third child whom I refused to believe was a girl, after having had two boys.

Someone had pointed out my written name as third on the board, but it wasn’t until I was cleared from recovery and saw it in writing on agent Dan Lilot’s phone that I in fact had placed third at the 2018 Boston Marathon.

Telling the (crazy) story. I proceeded to the press conference with 2nd place finisher Sarah Sellers and answered questions while alternating between shaking my head in disbelief, smiling with elation, and choking up with tears. Canada’s amazing Alan Brookes then conducted his own interview with me, as did several other media personnel both before and after my time with the USADA for anti-doping. Jonathan and I had some lunch then finally made our way back to the room where I then looked at the hundreds of message on my phone. A hot shower and chocolate brownie, which I had saved from dinner a few nights ago, was savoured before a few more interviews and making our way to the post-race party at the Red Lantern, a few streets over. We joined our Canadian contingency of Eric Gillis, Coach Bernie, and 9th place finisher Reid Coolsaet with his wife Marie and son, Louis.

Jonathan and I continued to talk about the excitement of the day as we packed our luggage in preparation for our morning flight home to see our three children. There’s much more I could write and there are so many to thank, but it’s now the middle of the night and I should at least try to get some sleep. Until then, I’ll sign off on this story, leaving you with the picture that captures the way it started.

Photograph by Ryan McBride/AFP/Getty Images; author pictures from Krista DuChene.

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Dick Hoyt and the True Definition of Boston Strong

The Sheraton Hotel in Boston is packed with runners and everywhere you look people are wearing yellow shoes. One runner, however, stands above the crowd, or somehow stands apart—even though he’s as humble and salt of the earth as anyone you’ll meet. Dick Hoyt, 77, is from Holland, Massachusetts and he pushed his son Rick in the Boston Marathon thirty-two times. Tomorrow, Rick, now 55, will be pushed by another member of Team Hoyt. Together, they’ve raised a million-dollars for Easter Seals. (Rick graduated from college and has his own apartment even though, when he was born, his parents were told to give him up, that he’d never be more than a “vegetable.”)

Meeting back up at the Sheraton, where the Hoyts were taken in 2013—when they were stopped on their last Boston one mile before the bombs exploded—Dick Hoyt told iRun about his life, about his plans, about his son, about Boston, and helped reinforce the true meaning of Boston Strong.

iRun: I know you just had back surgery and Brian from Team Hoyt will be pushing Rick tomorrow. But how do you feel? Will you return? 

Hoyt: It’s the fourth Boston tomorrow for Brian with Rick and I’ve had some back problems and haven’t been able to run it. Two weeks before Christmas I had back surgery. But I’m feeling good. I’m feeling strong. I hope to be back next year.

iRun: Everything you’ve done has been incredible. But I can’t believe you took Rick in a boat in the water for 270 triathlons. That doesn’t even seem possible. How? 

Hoyt: Rick and I were running and Dave, the Boston Marathon race director, said I looked like a triathlete. I don’t know how to swim, but I said, OK. I like Dave. I’ll give it a try. And I’ll never forget the first time I jumped in the lake, I sunk. I couldn’t swim. But that winter I joined the YMCA and I did it in Bedford, Massachusetts. The swim wasn’t too bad, I was surprised. I went out there and didn’t use my legs at all, it was all upper body.

iRun: What characteristics have defined your life? 

Hoyt: It all comes down to when Rick asked me to run in that very first race. Rick was at school and a teacher gave a talk about a lacrosse player that was in an accident, he was paralyzed. And there was going to be a road race to raise money. Rick said, ‘Dad, I have to do something for him. I have to show him that life goes on. I want to run in the race.’ At the time, I wasn’t a runner. Rick was 18.

iRun: He wanted to help someone else? 

Hoyt: Yeah, and everybody thought we’d go to the corner and turn around and come back, but we didn’t. We finished the whole thing and everyone thought we’d come in last, but we didn’t. We came in next to last. We’ve never been last in a race.

iRun: Running appealed to you? Appealed to Rick? 

Hoyt: When we got home that night, he wrote on his computer: ‘Dad, when I’m running, it feels like my disability disappears.’

iRun: Wow. 

Hoyt: It was a very powerful message to me. Somebody in a wheelchair can’t talk, can’t use his arms or legs, and now he’s running? He called himself “Freebird,” because now he was able to compete and run with everyone else.

iRun: The idea of going from victim and powerless to reframing it, I am powerful. I am free. It’s incredibly moving. 

Hoyt: Because of him I made myself stronger. Our message is: Yes, You Can. There isn’t anything you can’t do. There’s no such word as no. And that’s what Rick and I have lived by.

iRun: Always?

Hoyt: When Rick was born they said ‘Forget Rick, put him away. He’s going to be nothing but a vegetable for the rest of his life.’ My wife and I, she was 19 and I was 20, we said, ‘No.’ We’re not going to put him away. We’re going to bring him up like any other child. And that’s what we’ve done.

iRun: Was that a tough choice? 

Hoyt: Never a question. He was my son.

iRun: And then he graduated from Boston University. 

Hoyt: I think the hardest day of my life was driving him in and leaving him in the city of Boston with people we hardly knew. It took him nine years but he graduated, and he did it on his own.

iRun: What’s your relationship like after all these years? 

Hoyt: I don’t think there’s any father-son that’s any closer.

iRun: The two of you biked across the United States? 

Hoyt: That was in 1992. And we went to the Santa Monica Pier— 3,735 miles in 45 straight days without a day off. Everyone thought there’s no way he can go up the mountains in Denver, Colorado, but we finished in 45 days and arrived in Boston on Thursday night and Friday night, the Sox were playing, and we ran into Fenway Park and out to the Green Monster. We stayed and watched the game. The Red Sox won. And we got up the next morning, went to Vermont and did a triathlon.

iRun: Do you see yourself as extraordinary? 

Hoyt: The only thing special about me is that I had a son like Rick. Rick made me. I’m from a family of ten. I don’t know there’s anything special about me. It’s Rick. He’s the one.

iRun Radio – April 15th, 2018

iRun Radio

As so many are, iRun’s Mark Sutcliffe and Ben Kaplan are gearing up to run Boston. On this week’s show an Ottawa runner shares how she progressed to running marathons and she will run her ninth Boston Marathon tomorrow. Then, an Iranian Canadian who didn’t know if he would be able to travel to run this year’s Boston Marathon is proudly Boston bound. Plus, Toronto runner Ben Brathwaite shares how he used running as a method of major weight loss and is now a part of the Ottawa Marathon’s Team Awesome.

Krista, Reid and Eric before the Boston Marathon

Huddled at their hotel three days out from Boston Marathon race day, Canadian race royalty Krista DuChene, Eric Gillis and Reid Coolsaet, Olympians, are cool and collected. Far from unapproachable, they ask me about my race, are generous with their time, seem happy. What can we learn about racing from three legends who’ve arguably done more for the sport of marathon running in Canada than anyone else for the longest time, at least in recent memory? Krista and Reid, respectively, have the second fastest male and female marathon times in Canadian history; Gillis ran the Olympics three times, finishing tenth in 2016—the best Canadian finish since 1976.

They’re all parents. They all live in Canada. DuChene is a nutritionist; Gillis and Coolsaet, racing his first marathon in 16 months, both coach. The thought of any of the three of them involved in a doping scandal is absurd. It’s their sportsmanship, on top of their accomplishments, that make them true stars. Here’s what they had to say about Boston, about competition, about hydration, doping; about marathon running, experience, and about a life spent in and out of their racing shoes.

iRun: How big is the Boston Marathon?

Reid: It’s a big deal for a lot of people. I mean, the Olympics are a big deal for 150 people but this is exciting for everyone. Also, Boston’s not a paced race. If some athlete wants to go out hard, it might be a fast pace. Or if the weather’s crappy, we might hold back. You don’t know what’s going to happen.

Krista: Doing Boston is something I’m glad I’ve done and every marathoner wants to check off their list. There’s nothing like it, the amount of people who cheer from beginning to end, there’s nothing like it.

iRun: Can you hear the crowd? 

Krista: You hear it, but when you’re running for so long you can’t let it excite you too early.

Reid: You use the energy of the crowds. That’s what’s nice about racing in front of a home crowd, you hear your name more, but if the crowds are big enough, like at the Olympics, the energy and overall people yelling will spur you on and give you energy, but you have to bottle and channel the energy.

iRun: Are you training as much now as in the past? 

Gillis: I wouldn’t say I’m training as much, no.

iRun: Could that be an advantage, a little rest on your joints and knees?

Gillis: I’m healthy. I’ve never got this far in the marathon build up to Boston. I’ve never been here before. I got my training in and I’m healthy, but I’d say maybe less recovery—not as many naps.

Reid: Is this your third time on the start list?

Gillis: Yeah, 2013 and last year.

iRun: So is it true that it’s your destiny since third time’s a charm to win the whole thing Monday?

Reid: Third time’s a charm. . .

iRun: How do you deal with the nerves? 

Reid: Every time you race you’re going to feel them, once you know it’s inevitable, you don’t worry about it. It’s one part of racing that’s going to happen. You have to use that nervousness and channel it into energy.

Gillis: You have to set it before you come here. You have to have the attitude before you come, you can’t fix it here. Don’t get on the plane unless you’re mentally there.

Krista: I think it’s more significant back at home than here. Here, you get here and we’re those three Canadians, at home everyone knows you where as here, it’s just. . . different.

iRun: How detailed is your race plan for the Boston Marathon?

Reid: Mine’s not set at all. There’s no pacers here so you don’t really know what the pack is going to do. I would love to run with the front pack but if the front pack goes out at a really fast pace, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to play it by ear and feel what’s sustainable.

Gillis: Pick it up when you see, Louie. [ed note: Louis’s the name of Reid’s son, asleep in the stroller with Marie, his wife, standing behind the crew during the interview, at least for a bit].

Krista: I have a nice big window. I can’t go under 2:30 but I want to go under 2:40. 10 minutes is pretty comfortable.

Reid: I have zero time in my head. I don’t care. Especially with head winds and rain.

Gillis: Ten minutes is pretty much no time.

Reid: Right, if I said between 2:10 and 2:20. . .

iRun: Is that freeing? 

Reid: It’s nice. It’s a change from city marathons where we’ve looked at the Canadian record or to qualify for the Olympics and every workout is about pace to hit goals, whereas this is more free flowing and that free feel right up to the race is freeing from the pressure to hit your splits.

Krista: That’s what appealed to me. Not having to be a slave to my watch for Standards and proving fitness and with the way the course is with the hills, it wasn’t a speed focus, but more being able to handle the hills at the end.

iRun: A lot of attention is on the stacked women’s field, including Shalane Flanagan. Is she the competition?

Krista: Oh God no. I’m hoping to be top two masters, well hey, Deena Kastor.

Gillis: 2:19?

Krista: And well, for Deena, I mean—when you’re this age what does your PB even mean anymore?

Gillis: When do you turn Masters?

Krista: 40 on race day.

Gillis: Two years for me. . . Oh my God I’m old!

Krista: I don’t even know of any others so for me to say second might be a joke. You do your best, but I would never start with Shalane and Des, they’re way beyond me.

iRun: Do they know you?

Krista: Oh yeah, you sort of do the awkward head nod, but I don’t sit and talk with them at length. There’s more on the line for them so they sort of keep on their own. It’s a pretty big deal, especially for the four of them that are going for it.

Reid: I’m not really thinking I’m going to win this race, but I also don’t want to be intimidated by 25 guys, because I’d like to beat most of them. I’ll look at their stats but come race day a lot of stuff can happen.

iRun: How interested are you in the history of the Boston Marathon? 

Reid: It’s cool for sure. You see Bill Rodgers walking around, Greg Meyer, Meb. A bunch of American guys who’ve won, Amby Burfoot is here. It’s cool to read about their stories, what it was like back then: flat Coke or nothing.

Krista: Cotton socks, cardboard shoes. . .

iRun: Reid and Eric, you guys trained for years and now are apart, with Eric coaching at St. Francis—I feel like you guys are like the kids in Superbad. Do you miss each other?

Eric: Yeah.

Reid: We did a workout together and it was our first time running since the National Cross Country Championships, our first workout. From 2002 – 2017, we had a lot of chunks of time where for a month we might run half those days together.

iRun: Sucks losing your running partner. 

Krista: They’re dads now.

Reid: Eric and I trained together for 15 years and our PBS are within a second-a-kilometre splits and you don’t get that too often in North America. There’s not a ton of guys running 2:12, and to have two guys on the same level and same path and have the same goal, it’s rare and it’s been great. Today we did 4 x 2 minutes, which was a reminder of what it’s like—stride for stride.

iRun: You still neck and neck? 

Reid: Yeah.

Gillis: Those things don’t change unless one of us stops training. We could do a full marathon build together and not have the same race plan, you race the marathon, not each other.

Reid: Eric is more efficient than I am. Look at the 5K and 10K, I’ve beaten Eric more than he beat me, but in the marathon, we’re more evenly matched. My strengths of speed and power even out because my stride isn’t as efficient. Watch him run and it doesn’t look like he’s using as much energy as I am, but listen to our breathing, it seems like he’s working harder. It all works out in the marathon. But heat and stomach, he’s way ahead.

Krista: You have the smaller bladder, right? I’ve heard that.

Gillis: I can’t drive to the airport in Halifax without stopping.

Krista: I couldn’t go that long either.

Reid: I can go four hours, easy.

Gillis: Wow.

iRun: Drug testing and Salazar are all over the news this race, with two of his athletes racing on Monday. What’s doping mean to you? 

Reid: As runners, we talk about it all the time in warm up and cool down, the stuff you read on LetsRun. But as far as having someone offer it, never. I think if you wanted to cheat, you’d have to seek it out. It’s never in your face. How I deal with it, I read about it, but when I go into competition, I can’t think about it. That gives them a one-up on you. I put it out of my head when I toe the line.

iRun: Were you ever tempted? You’re so close to breaking Drayton’s record for so long. . . 

Reid: The risk and reward is just not there. I have done everything clean and can look back on my career and be happy, there’s a million reasons why I wouldn’t cheat but one is it would ruin my whole reputation.

Gillis: He’d ruin my reputation. That’s mostly why.

Krista: I wouldn’t know how to.  

iRun: Whats the pre-race routine before the Boston Marathon?

Gillis: It is pretty chilled. Watch a show, relax. I know I have lots of work the next day.

Reid: I eat a lot of carbs, rice, potatoes, pasta, whatever’s available. I’m not that picky.

Gillis: What time’s the race?

iRun: Wow, you are super chilled. 

Krista: There’s no secrets. We’re eating carbs, hydrating, resting, going to the washroom, and that’s about it. 

Reid: It’s easier for us because getting to the start line we just get on a bus and we’re corralled. We don’t have to think about anything, it’s dummy-proof.

Gillis: The biggest thing is if it’s wet or snowing, ball cap or hat.

Krista: You don’t want rain on your face.

Reid: Relax your face a bit more.

iRun: You’re all going to wear hats if it rains? 

Reid: I’ll probably end up chucking it halfway through, but I’ll wear it.

Krista: Is there a headwind?

Reid: Apparently its 20 miles an hour, 33K an hour.

Krista: That’s enough. Anything over 30 I think is significant.

iRun: Do you guys feel since you’re no longer young pups that this race is extra significant? Do you wonder how many more times realistically you can suit up to compete? 

Reid: That’s one of the reasons I’m doing Boston now. I’ve put it off to run a fast course, but I want to run Boston while I’m still competitive. I thought about that, and I’m running it now, but I won’t think about that on race day.

Gillis: Same with me.

Krista: I’ve been here before and it’s neat to come back as an elite, that’s pretty cool. Also: the prize purse is decent for masters, so there’s that to consider. But even that’s a tough one. Even though you turn 40, it’s still as much work. This cycle I took one full rest day per week and I’ve never felt as good. That’s really helped.

Reid: For a lot of people getting used to the marathon, getting used to how relaxed you have to be in the beginning, getting used to fuelling. There’s a learning curve in the marathon. The Kenyans have a good approach.

iRun: How is it to be the Canadian elite squad? 

Reid: People from Canada would like to see us do well. When they look at results, they can see that there’s Canadians in the top whatever. It’s something to talk about, and they can relate to it a little more. Like, that person ran the Chilly Half. That person ran in Kingston. People message me, “Go, Canada!”

Krista: It’s nice to represent our country. That always feels good.

iRun: Do the three of you feel a comradery, a certain shared world and race view? 

Krista: We’re grounded. We’ve got kids. Not to say that other people aren’t in the same boat as us.

Reid: I barely just joined the club, I was an outcast to the two of them.

Krista: You now joined the club, you’re one of the “mature” racers.

Reid: We saw CPT [Charles Philibert-Thiboutot] in the lobby and Nicole Sifuentes, for sure, instant conversation. The Canadians, anywhere you go, there’s a connection right away. There’s a lot of people racing in Canada, but there’s not a lot of elites doing it internationally. You find each other pretty quickly.

Gillis: We grew up in a small town. You’ve got to be nice.

iRun: Last words for your fans before Monday’s race, and good luck and thanks for your time. 

Reid: When I did the Chilly Half, usually after a half I feel a little beat up, but after that, I didn’t feel beat up at all. Going into a marathon, you don’t want any aches and pains. I’m feeling good.

Gillis: I ran the course 13 months ago, I’m feeling pretty solid.

Krista: It’s going to be a great day no matter what happens. We’re happy to be here, happy to be racing and I hope this is the same for everyone: we’re having fun.

Five tips for tuning up before race day

25,000 runners took to the start line at the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon in 2017.

Spencer White runs Saucony’s Human Performance & Innovation Lab outside of Boston and knows practically everything about gait and stride and how to run. What he knows can fill a book and drives a company, but, in the name of expediency, we boiled all of that down into five tips, you can try now, to get tuned up for your race day, whenever that is. Without further ado, White’s five tips for maximizing your next run.

5. Less out front, more out back. This means the power in your stride isn’t coming from your arms out in front of your chest or an extended leg kick, energy return happens behinds you. Both from the Achille’s tendon, and the swing in your arm.

4. You probably don’t need yoga. Yoga is terrific, arguably, but you most likely have enough mobility for running from running. Good hip flexibility is important, and that can be done by stretching. Yoga is fine. But think about your hips.

3. Stretch your hips everyday. Kneel down and slide your leg back and rotate your pelvis forward, and hold each pose for three minutes on each leg. Slow everything down and spend time in each position. If you rush the stretch, it won’t work.

2. Practice your balance. A runner should be able to stand on one leg, twist, and not fall over. And you should be able to do this on both legs. Work on this, practice, and gain control of your hips. Balancing exercises can also be done everyday.

1. Relax about foot strike. With the minimal shoe trend basically over, people have eased up on their insistence to land on your toes. After all, 85-90% of the population are heel strikers and, guess what? That’s fine. Just pay attention to landing with your lower leg vertical—keep your ankle under your knee when landing, and wear Saucony.

An American Ed? 70 Year Old Gene Dykes Goes Sub-3:00 in Rotterdam

Is there an American Ed Whitlock floating (or running) around? It seems so. A message from Neil Whitlock, son of the man himself, informed us that 70 year old Gene Dykes of Philadelphia posted an incredibly impressive 2:57:43 at last weekend’s Rotterdam Marathon.

Dykes is a few minutes off of Ed’s 70-74 record of 2:54:48, which he ran at the age of 73 at the 2004 Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon. Ed also still holds the distinction of being the oldest man to break three hours, running a 2:58:40 at age 74, once again at the Toronto Waterfront Marathon.

At least for this blogger, news of Dykes’ performance in Amsterdam wasn’t visible this week. Perhaps anything short of a record just isn’t news these days, but it’s great to see that Ed’s declaration that his own accomplishments shouldn’t be unusual or singular appears to have some truth in it.

A quick and dirty Google search does tell us a few things about Dykes. An athlete profile indicates a blistering race schedule for a runner of any age. According to Athlinks, Dykes has already completed a 100 mile trail run in 2018 and recorded a 30:48 at the USATF Masters 8K Championships in March of this year.

In an interview from 2015, Dykes stated that he planned to run both the London and Philadelphia Marathon that year in addition to multiple ultras.

As mentioned, I was completely unaware of Gene Dykes. If you have any knowledge of the 70 year old wonder, let us know!

 

How to Lose the Boston Marathon

The easiest thing in the world is to lose a race that you’re well trained for. It’s simple. While tapering, get nervous, and keep training, hard, right up until the starting line. Or: deal with your nerves by not watching your diet. Anxiety eat, and don’t even pay attention to what you’re anxiety-eating, binge on crackers, and candy, and don’t forget alcohol and beer.

Obsess about your time if you want to lose your race. Don’t stop thinking about what pace, down to the millisecond, you’re supposed to run your race. Think about it constantly and then, while you’re racing, stare at your watch the entire time, willing it to be exactly right, and not running by feel.

Do not smile, and do not talk about anything other than your race, if you want to be certain to fail. Squeeze the joy out of the thing, and don’t take in your surroundings. When the gun goes off, go out fast, fearing that you might miss your time. Go out too fast, because you don’t want to miss your time, and try and hold on, even though you’re overtrained and showing up at the start line tired.

It’s easy to lose the Boston Marathon, I know because I did all of those things in 2012, when I raced it for the first time. I’d never walked in a marathon, before Boston, never cried. (I have since, though “cry” is a strong word for it, more like, I don’t know, whimper. I think I’ve now done that at STWM twice). Everything about Boston got the best of me. I made it my own personal Olympics and set a goal for a PB, ignored the weather conditions, went out too fast, showed up at the starting line tired, thought about it so much that I was mentally exhausted before the whole thing started, and basically stomped on the celebration as if my race shoes were combat boots and that world-famous course had said something bad about my mom.

Boston is a big deal for the people running it. Whatever race you’re training for, participating in, thinking about, is a big deal. But don’t make it into a big deal in a bad way. Make it a big deal in a good way. Enjoy the celebration. Enjoy the race. Enjoy the ride. I didn’t do that when I ran Boston last time. I was so jazzed up and excited, so freaking out and tight, that I could walk under a tree and the birds would fall out of the branches. My vibes were deadly. Not this year, my friends. Not this time.

I have a great friend preparing for the Sporting Life 10K in Toronto on Mother’s Day and that race, for her, like many, is loaded with emotion. The race benefits Camp Ooch, which supports kids with cancer. We all know there are things in life more important than our next half marathon, our first 10K, qualifying for Boston or even the Mt. Olympus of racing for a lot of us, the Boston Marathon.

I’m going to keep perspective. I’m going to continue my taper, continue sipping Perrier and eating mixed nuts. Continue jogging slowly in preparation and continue listening to Tom Petty. I know how to lose the Boston Marathon. We all do. But it’s a choice we make and a path, however tempting, we don’t have to go down. Good luck to everyone racing. Remember, by showing up and participating, we already win.

Photograph of author Ben Kaplan at the Race Roster Spring Run Off courtesy of Canada Running Series.