On the Road to Boston with Krista DuChene

February 28, 2018

Photos: Edison Yao

We are seven weeks out from the 2018 Boston Marathon and everything seems to be running smoothly, so to speak. Four weeks ago I took to the start line of the Robbie Burns 8 km in Burlington for my first race of the year. The Robbie Burns Run is a popular race for the local runners to test fitness when starting a spring marathon build. True to Krista DuChene form, I managed close to marathon pace, feeling the same in both the first and last kilometre. I was hoping I might beat the CDN Masters 40 record of 27:50 but both speedster Mary Unsworth and I came up short. She had recently set a Masters indoors 5,000 m record of 17:07, and finished ahead of me with 27:55 while I was 28:03. Fellow Saucony runner, Victoria Coates took the win with 27:29. She will be running in the World Half Marathon Championships at the end of March. Much more greatness to come from this woman!

I was looking forward to February as it was going to be a month of staying put, just hitting the kilometres and workouts without any races. I had opted out of the February Re-Fridgee-Eighter (8 miles) because we planned three races so close together: Chilly Half, Around the Bay, and Boston. I have really been enjoying the training for this build, more so than any marathon I can remember. Coach DST’s plan is thorough and I continue to learn more about this marathon thing, even though I’ve been at it for almost 16 years! If interested in learning more about my involvement with Speed River and what else is new, tune into Michael Rochus’s The Terminal Mile on Something in the Water – The Marathoners.

My easy 25 km run with the Manulife John Hancock Boston Marathon group yesterday morning in Toronto rounded out a second week of 177 km. Last week I completed my first 40 km run. This week I had to split my long run in two because of my daughter’s hockey tournament. I managed to get 32 km in between her 8 am and 12 pm games but needed a bit more so added an easy 13 km later that afternoon. The weather has been quite mild lately, which has made building the mileage a bit easier compared to the constant grind of snowy or -30 runs earlier this winter.

After four weeks of building since Robbie Burns I’ll now take a down week with the Chilly Half Marathon on Sunday, March 4. The weather is looking favourable and I’m trusting the legs will feel fresh after this recovery week.

This morning I did a shorter workout of 3 x 12 minutes on a hilly road with some decent wind. If there’s one thing that was reinforced by 2:09:00 1983 Boston Marathon Champion, Greg Meyer at yesterday’s Manulife event it was to respect the hills. I will admit that hills have definitely been on my mind in preparation for this year’s Boston Marathon. The only distinct memory I have from 2005 is the deafening crowd at Wellesley College, and almost completing Heartbreak Hill before I knew I was even on it. It’d be wonderful to experience that again. But I think I had been routinely doing more hilly routes then. When racing the hilly 2016 Around the Bay 30 km I found the hills a challenge as it was the first season without pushing kids up and down in a stroller. Hills are one thing. Speed is one thing. Hill AND speed is entirely different. The bottom line is that I must stay on them.

In other events, I’ve been keeping busy with various public speaking engagements, my work as a Registered Dietitian, and our kids’ activities. We’ve skied a few times, enjoyed numerous hockey games and swim meets, and are in the midst of birthday season with four out of five birthdays between February and March. Our March Madness is about to begin yet again. With my training and racing, the kids’ playoffs and competitions, March break, planning for spring sports, and celebrating birthdays it’s definitely one of my busiest yet most enjoyable months of the year. Away, we go!

Running every day for 39 years, 2 months, and 17 days

Ben Kaplan

February 27, 2018

Richard Rayman has run every day for 39 years, two months and 17 days, beginning December 10, 1978. 71 years old, Rayman is a former dentist and full-time member of the University of Toronto’s Faculty of Dentistry, still working 9-5 five days-a-week.

“I realized I was on a streak and I just kept running,” says Rayman, a veteran of 353 marathons. “Running, as much as anything else, like brushing my teeth, is just something I do.”

iRun General Manager Ben Kaplan caught up with Rayman and asked him what he’s learned from so many days on the road.

iRun: Why running?

Rayman: It’s the simplest thing in the world to do. Put on your running shoes and go outside. You don’t need to spend money. You don’t need to do anything. But you have to go outside.

iRun: 39 years, two months and 17 days of running and never once on a treadmill?

Rayman: I’ve never run on a treadmill in my life.

iRun: Has that much running interfered with your life? Do you have family, friends?

Rayman: I do, yes. I’m married and have two kids and my kids are both married and they each have kids. I have five grandchildren. A normal, happy life.

iRun: Does you wife run?

Rayman: She doesn’t run, but I’ve run 353 marathons and she’s been at the finish line for over 300 of them.

iRun: That’s love.

Rayman: She knows more about marathon running than most people running marathons.

iRun: So many marathons, so much practice. What do you like better, race day or rehearsal?

Rayman: The way I’m running now, they’re about the same.

iRun: How’s that?

Rayman: I’m just running so much slower now, but the truth is: I still love being at a marathon. I love the running culture. I love being around runners. And I love finishing a marathon.

iRun: 353, and it hasn’t lost its lustre?

Rayman: It’s still nice getting a medal.

iRun: What’s your fastest marathon time?

Rayman: In a different lifetime I ran 2:47:43, in the early 80s. I did that twice; in a marathon outside Rochester and a second slower at the Calgary Marathon. I used to say I could run a sub-three marathon with my eyes closed.

iRun: And now?

Rayman: I say never say that because it comes back to bite you. In January, at my marathon in Miami, it took me 2:47 to get to the half.

iRun: What’s your typical finish like now?

Rayman: Between five and a half and over six hours, depending.

iRun: As such a competitive person, does that square with you?

Rayman: There’s a guy named Mark who works with John Stanton and he saw me at the Scotiabank Waterfront marathon and told me that I have nothing to prove anymore. Since then, it kind of stuck. I’d love to have a good day, but it’s getting harder.

iRun: What are your current goals?

Rayman: If I can start and finish, I’m happy.

iRun: Are you currently in physical pain when you run?

Rayman: It hurts. Years ago when it hurt, well, it always hurt. We all get tired. But years ago I’d fight through it, now I just want to finish so if I have to walk, I walk. In Miami, I walked the last eight miles. I’ll tell you what, though.

iRun: What?

Rayman: It still felt good. I finished.

iRun: Of the 353 marathons, what’s your favourite?

Rayman: I have three, no—four. I love New York. New York is a marathon like no other, it’s unbelievable. And truthfully, I love Scotiabank Toronto. I love running in Toronto. And Canada Running Series is good to me and pro-runner. That’s in my top four. Elsewhere, Glass City in Toledo and I’ve done one in North Carolina called Grandfather Mountain ten times. It’s a cult marathon, 300 runners with a 4,300-foot elevation gain. I haven’t done that in four years, but I’ve done it ten times.

iRun: What’s your secret for not getting hurt?

Rayman: I’ve been hurt. I’ve run through a torn medial meniscus. I’ve run through Achille’s problems. But when I was running fast, 75 to 90 miles a week, I knew three or four days a week to run slow and let my body recover.

iRun: All that time alone to think. What have you learned?

Rayman: Running has to be fun. Sounds corny, but you put one foot in front of the other. You don’t have to devote your whole life to running. Enjoy it. When I started to slow down I accepted it.

iRun: How so?

Rayman: I used to say, ‘When I can’t break three hours, I’d quit.’ Then I said, ‘When I can’t break four, I’ll retire from running.’ I said it at five, too. Now I don’t care.

iRun: What was the closest you came to missing a day?

Rayman: Two years ago, that torn meniscus. I could hardly walk and I said, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ But I was already dressed and my wife said, ‘You’ve done it before, do it again.’ And I drove to a church parking lot near my house and ran for 30 minutes. Or limped for 30 minutes. That’s my minimum.

iRun: You feel better the next day?

Rayman: No. But the next day I did the same run, and the next day, and by the time I got my MRI results, my meniscus was healing. The surgeon said keep running!

iRun: Incredible.

Rayman: Ever listen to Jimmy Buffet?

iRun: Some.

Rayman: Breathe in, breathe out—and move on.

iRun: Is it healthy what you do?

Rayman: No.

iRun: But you’ve done it for nearly 40 years!

Rayman: I’m going to keep on doing it.

iRun: What are the next marathons you have lined up?

Rayman: Starting April 22, Glass City in Toledo. The following weekend, Waterloo Marathon for St. John’s Ambulance. They’re great over there, I actually race with bib #1 (last year I wore number one and came in last). The following week is Goodlife Toronto. Then the Mudcat in Dunnville; the week after that is Ann Arbor, and the last of the six is Buffalo.

iRun: My God.

Rayman: I mean, as long as I don’t get too badly injured.

iRun: And you’ve really run every day. The day your first kid was born; the day your, I don’t, the birth of your grandson?

Rayman: Yes. I ran the days both my kids were born; ran the day my father passed away, the day my mother passed away. It’s part of my life. It’s like putting on shoes. I don’t think twice, I do it.

iRun: Would you say you have an addictive personality?

Rayman: Very.

Cabbage and Carrot Crunch Salad

Nutrition

February 25, 2018

Combining the crunch of red cabbage, carrots, succulent romaine hearts, crispy apples, and almonds—all complemented by sweet-tart dried cranberries and an agave-Dijon vinaigrette. You can make this salad any time of year, but it’s a highly nutritious, and colourful winter salad option, especially when the rest of produce selection is subpar.

Cabbage and Carrot Crunch Salad
Serves 6

Ingredients:

Agave -Dijon Vinaigrette

½ cup/120 ml extra-virgin olive oil
3 tbsp plus 1 tsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp agave nectar
1 ½ tsp Dijon mustard
¼ tsp salt
Pinch of freshly ground black pepper

Salad

1 large romaine heart, cut or torn into bite-size pieces
2 cups/140 g shredded red cabbage
2 large carrots, coarsely grated
1 large sweet-tart apple (such as Honey Crisp or Fuji), medium dice
½ cup/75 g raw, unsalted almonds, toasted and chopped
½ cup/60 g dried cranberries, coarsely chopped
1 tbsp plus 1 tsp finely chopped fresh spearmint (optional)

Directions:

ONE: To make the vinaigrette: Combine the oil, vinegar, agave, mustard, salt, and pepper in a small jar. Seal the lid tightly and shake vigorously to emulsify. Set aside at room temperature.

TWO: To make the salad: Combine the romaine, cabbage, and carrots in a large bowl. Reserve 2 tablespoons of the vinaigrette. Add ½ cup/120 ml of the vinaigrette (or more as desired) to the vegetables, and toss to combine. Divide the salad among six plates or bowls.

THREE: Toss the apples with the 2 tbsp reserved vinaigrette and divide it among the individual salads. Top each salad with equal amounts of almonds, cranberries, and spearmint (if using). Serve immediately.

Reproduced with permission from Straight from the Earth: Irresistible Vegan Recipes for Everyone (Chronicle Books) by Myra and Marea Goodman.

iRun Radio – February 25th, 2018

Why I Run

February 25, 2018

With the Boston Marathon coming up, one Iranian runner living in Toronto delves into how Trump’s travel ban will impact him and many others who qualified to run Boston this year. After completing a total of 63 marathons, find out why Terry Sancartier is on a quest to complete 100 marathons, along with some of the incredible races he has participated in. Plus, an Alberta runner who overcame lung disease to qualifying and running the Boston Marathon.

In Praise of the Run Club Leader

Ben Kaplan

February 22, 2018

In the middle of February it takes something extra to carry on with our running. It’s cold. Dark. Time for Netflix and empty calories and too many drinks on the couch. Except, that’s not what any of us wants. That’s not why we buy sneakers and make big spring goals and are known to our friends as “runners.”

Last night that something extra was provided by Mike and Maya Anderson, the owners of Black Toe Running, the shop from which I’ve been running through the winter and the muck. We had an “Equalizer” race along the waterfront in which the entire club reported their 8K time and were then released in waves, the idea being that everyone finished together. There must have been 40 people racing hard on a dreary Wednesday night, a dreary Wednesday night coming after so many other dreary Wednesday nights of cold and grey. But here’s the thing: all of us were smiling.

I know Mike and Maya aren’t the only ones. I know Peter in Vancouver and Bert in Montreal and Ray outside Ottawa and Noel in Calgary are constantly doing things to shake things up for their people, for their friends. Things need shaking up for most runners. I run a lot. Run marathons. And it’s hard to get out of the house after working all day, picking up the kids, and then taking what feels like my first breath at 6:30 p.m. The wine is right there! Things like The Equalizer keep me—keep us—on the road, where we want to be. It’s just sometimes, times like now, we can use a little push. Thank you to everyone encouraging the rest of us not to give in, not to give up.

All of you probably have that person in your running life who goes beyond the pale and improves the quality of your relationship with your sport, your passion. It’s like that friend who helps shape you into the person who you want to be. Yeah, I’d be running without Black Toe. But I wouldn’t have been laughing my head off at 7:45 in the cold as I screamed out in the dark and hustled like Reid Coolsaet to catch that frisky Chris Rivera, who consistently beats me in all of our practice runs, and will probably push me to a new PB. It’s not the PB I’m chasing. It’s the laugh in the night that reminds me I’m alive.

Who helps you make it through winter? Who in your running life gives more than they take? Here’s your chance to acknowledge the good guys—tell us who you want to thank and include their picture and we’ll make a little Canadian Good Runner hall of fame. Here’s to the person who picks up the race bibs. Here’s to the one who messages you to get out of the house Sunday morning and do your long run.

Running is amazing on its own and we all know the reasons. But it means so much more when you have a leader paving the way. To you, we say cheers.

Kate Van Buskirk on the Mind, Body and Spirit of Running

Why I Run

February 19, 2018

Kate Van Buskirk has pushed through her darkest moments. The Canadian middle distance runner has long since been open about her struggles with depression and anxiety, plus some pretty rough times battling physical injuries that took a toll. Now Van Buskirk is happy, healthy and back on track. We spoke with her about the mind-body connection of running, along with how she keeps running fun, even when she’s not feeling it.

iRun: How important is the mental connection, and even the whole spirit connection for you as a runner?

Kate Van BuskirK: I can’t separate the physical from the mental when it comes to running. When I’m out for an easy recovery run, on a beautiful day, feeling well-rested, strong and happy, running augments everything positive for me. On days when I’m struggling, feeling low, or overwhelmed, running serves as a chance for meditation, reflection and a well-needed dose of feel-good endorphins. I find that my thinking is clearer, and I’m more honest with myself about my emotions when I’m out for a run, and this clarity and openness helps me tremendously when trying to navigate a challenge or set-back. There’s also something about being outside, particularly in nature, that is invigorating, so going for a run offers a feeling of connection that is hard to replicate.

iRun: What are your tricks for pushing past the days when you just don’t feel like training? Or do you push past?

KV: Because I am a professional runner, I do have to push through certain days when I’m lacking motivation to run. However, if I’m feeling especially tired, fighting an illness, or dealing with an injury concern, I have learned that it is usually best to listen to my body and take a rest day. When it comes to mustering motivation on the days when I don’t feel like going for my run, I find that the hardest part is usually just getting out the door. Once I’m moving and the endorphins kick in, I generally end up really enjoying it. As the saying goes, “’I really regret going for that run’ said no one ever”. I turn to various forms of inspiration to get my shoes laced up, like watching race videos of runners I admire, visiting some of my favourite running publications like iRun, or writing down some of my athletic goals to remind myself what I’m working towards.

iRun: For many runners, especially women, running can really help free their mind, can you share a bit as to what you think about, where your mind goes when you’re training or even just out for a “fun run”?

KV: When I’m in the middle of a hard workout or long run, I am usually fairly focused on the task at hand. I think a lot about my body in these moments, and get into a sort of mantra where I repeat various physical cues for staying loose and relaxed while working through discomfort. I find that focusing on these cues has a calming effect that keeps me “in the zone”, and helps distract me from the pain of my exertion. When I’m out for an easy run, however, I usually experience a combination of letting my mind wander to other things going on in my life, while also trying to stay present, and notice and appreciate the world around me. I tend to stay away from city streets when I run in Toronto, so my runs along the lake front or various ravines provide great opportunities to take in the natural beauty around me.

iRun: With that idea of running for fun in mind, are you able to do that as an elite runner, just enjoy the act of running? What are your tricks for making it fun again?

KV: Running has always been fun for me, with the exception of when I’ve been dealing with long periods of injury. Although I have to maintain a significant level of discipline in my sport, I have never seen it as solely a job; in fact, I’ve always thought that as soon as I stop genuinely loving running, I will retire from the sport regardless of my level of success. I love the purity of running; that all you need is a pair of running shoes and a healthy sense of adventure and you can run pretty much anywhere. Getting as much variety as possible in my running routes is one way that I keep running fun and interesting. I love exploring a place on foot, and try to run in new places whenever I get the opportunity. I also run as much as I can with others, as I derive a lot of pleasure from sharing that experience with fellow athletes.

iRun: Beyond running, what activities do you do that have helped you maintain a healthy mind-body connection?

KV: I write a fair amount for myself. I keep a gratitude journal that I try to contribute to every day, even with some small reason to be appreciative. I try to nourish my mind and body as much as I can in times when I feel that I’m struggling, rather than engaging in judgement. I also work with a great therapist on a regular basis, and find that having this resource has a tremendously positive impact on my mental health.

iRun: Any additional advice for women getting started in running, who maybe want to use running as a way to improve their mental fitness?

KV: Start easy and be gentle on your mind and body. Find running buddies who will support and inspire you; write down—but be flexible with—your goals; be open to discovering through trial and error what makes running enjoyable for you; challenge yourself without engaging in self-judgement. Just get out the door!

iRun Radio – February 18th, 2018

Why I Run

February 17, 2018

Running can take you farther than you know and on this week’s show, three runners prove it. Taking your running from your first 5K race to a 50K ultra marathon isn’t easy and to think Jenny Pham began running 5 years ago and she didn’t think she’d ever run a full marathon!. Then an Ottawa teacher, shares his experience exploring the neighbourhoods in Thailand. Plus, Kate MacKenzie talks about The Secret Marathon 3K, an even that aims at making running the streets at any hour of the day or night, safer for everyone.

Catching Up with Corey Bellemore Beer Mile World Record holder

AttheRaces

February 16, 2018

By Noel Paine
Photo Credits: Milos Savic and Ekaternia Moysov

The mile is four laps of an outdoor track. Most runners will struggle to get near to a 6-minute mile. Windsor Ontario’s Corey Bellemore recently broke the 4-minute barrier for the mile; a mark many thought humanly impossible until Roger Bannister broke it in 1954. As fast and impressive as blistering up the track to run under 4-minutes, he has also run the fastest Beer Mile ever (4:33.6) – a feat that involves running the distance and consuming a beer each lap.

The miler (23) was born, raised and learn to run in Windsor, Ontario and is currently only 20-minutes away from home studying at the University of Windsor. He is close to family and he says they, along with the support of his sponsors are what enables him to train without added stress. With his running successes Corey has garnered sponsorship form those such as Adidas Canada and a local brewing company, Flying Monkeys Brewery.

I caught up with the young Canadian runner and found our how he started, how his grandmother inspired his competitive spirit and whether or not he believes he can best his current world record.

iRun: Tell us how did you develop a passion for running.

Corey Bellemore: I loved running from a young age mainly because my parents enjoyed running and I would often bike next to them on their runs. I remember my dad picking my siblings and I up after school and I would always see the cross country team doing laps in the back field of the school. I always thought to myself, I wonder if I can do that…that thought never left. First race ever was in grade 2 where I was too young to be on the actual cross country team but they added a special race at the first meet to allow a few of us to race. Our “rabbit” was a guy on a dirt bike that I anxiously wanted to sprint after. My mom always told me growing up that her mom (my grandma) would tell her to run like there was a tiger chasing her. That’s part of where my competitive running mentality stemmed from. That quote stuck with me.

Bellomere’s Best: PB – 800m – 1:47.6, PB – Mile – 3:57.2 (indoors), PB – Beer Mile 4:33.6

iRun: How did it feel to go under the magical sub 4-minute barrier for the mile?

CB: Running under the 4min barrier for the mile was always a big goal of mine so to actually do it felt satisfying. With that being said, that satisfaction only lasted so long before I realized I want a lot more than that. It’s definitely a step in the right direction and something that alludes to the hard work I’ve been putting in with my coach, Dennis Fairall.

What are your running plans for 2018?

“My running plans in 2018 are to take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way. It’s a time in my life that I need to enjoy what I have while I have it. I realize running isn’t going to be around forever so while I am young I plan on putting a big effort into seeing where I can go. I really want to continue training the way I am and get into a fast 1500m race where I can show what I am capable of.”

iRun: Do you think your increasing speed will mean a faster beer mile – if you go after again?

CB: I am sure I can run a faster beer mile and I’ll do another at the end of my summer track season at the Beer Mile a World Classic which will take place in Burnaby, BC in August.

iRun: What keeps you pushing yourself and how do you keep the passion for running?

CB: My passion for running will never go away because no matter how hard life gets, it’s going to be there for me to take my mind off things. It’s something I can put all my energy into and control everything about it: my mind, my pain tolerance, my breathing, etc. It’s a therapeutic activity for me that makes life seem a little less busy and a little more simple. I’m appreciative of how many great people I’ve met through running and love hearing different reasons about why people run or how they got into it.

At 23-years old Corey Bellemore has many more years of running to come – keep an eye out for this young Canadian runner.

Noel Paine is a communications professional, running coach, and father based in Ottawa. Paine is a regular iRun contributor and you can also follow his journey on Twitter @NoelPaine.

The American travel ban, revolt, and Canadians running Boston

Ben Kaplan

February 16, 2018

The thought came from deep within the cloud of confusion that now enveloped my brain as I ran: Soroush might be trying to kill me.

I was a kilometre from the finish line of the 2017 Toronto Marathon, exhausted, sore, and losing speed. My friend, who moments before had been standing at the side of the road with the other spectators, was now on the course, a few metres ahead, turning back regularly to yell at me to run faster. My heart felt as though it might burst. As Soroush yelled, he urged me forward, toward him, with short sweeps of his hand.

To my disbelief, I found a reserve of energy, and my stride quickened to a sprint. My friend jumped back to the sidelines before I approached the chute, and I crossed the finish line in under three hours—a big PB and a Boston qualifier. As I slowed to a stop and tried to get my breathing under control, I tried also to grasp the meaning of his gesture.

Soroush Hatami and I had met just less than a year prior, as members of Marathon Dynamics, a running group in Toronto. Evenly matched, we kept pace with each other during the group’s Wednesday night speedwork sessions and on Sunday-morning long-runs too. Neither of us had ever run the Boston Marathon, and we made it our goal to do it together in 2018. But less than a month after Soroush qualified, at the 2016 Toronto Waterfront Marathon, Donald Trump was elected president of the United States, a result that soon threatened to spoil our Boston plans.

Over the course of the following year, to make good on a campaign-trail promise, Trump attempted several times to ban citizens of select, primarily Muslim, countries from entering the United States. These controversial policies were immediately challenged in court, but one was ultimately allowed to remain in place while it was litigated. Among other things, this meant that Soroush—a permanent resident in Canada with an Iranian passport—would likely be turned back at the border on our way to the race in April.

Amid this uncertainty, we submitted our times to the Boston Athletic Association, were registered for the race, and paid our entry fees. We began training. We began fundraising too, for Muslim Advocates and the International Refugee Assistance Project—two American organizations that have opposed the travel ban with ferocious legal action. We set a target of $1,000 US for every mile of the marathon—$26,200 in total. Soroush also applied to become a Canadian citizen, and his case is moving quickly. He’s passed his citizenship test and is now waiting to be invited to take his oath, after which he can apply for a passport. The marathon is still two months away.

Our fundraising continues regardless. The money we collect will not help Soroush get to Boston, but our hope is that it will benefit others who have suffered far worse than he has because of the travel ban: U.S. residents who are afraid to leave the country, because they might not be allowed back in; families that have been broken apart; refugees unable to escape war.

When I eventually caught my breath after Soroush had guided me down the home stretch of my race, I hobbled to the food tent and collected my thoughts. In a moment of clarity, I understood the lesson in what he had done for me—you don’t leave other people behind when they need your help.

This is the link for more information.

This is the link for donations.

A Runner’s Valentine and a Cure for the Broken Hearted

Ben Kaplan

February 14, 2018

2017 broke my heart twice. First, amid the raucous din of Boylston Street, in the finisher’s chute of the Boston Marathon, a malfunctioning Garmin beeping manically on my wrist. And again, not long after that, on the corner of a quiet residential street in Toronto, orange street lamps illuminating the last page in a bittersweet love story.

Athletes are supposed to be good at heartbreak, and marathoners especially so. Ours is a sport that demands months upon months of gruelling, thankless preparation. Even then, there’s no guarantee that the gods of illness, injury or fair weather will be on your side come race day.

That’s why resilience, for a distance runner, is utterly essential; in the marathon, as in love, you can do everything right and still get burned. But in 2017, in the wake of an epic heartbreak double-feature, I felt my characteristic marathoner resilience start to falter.

Redemption stories have always captivated me. When you look below the surface, it’s incredible how many dazzling accomplishments owe themselves to a doggedness born out of heartbreak and failure. Perhaps nothing in recent memory comes close to Shalane Flanagan’s historic New York City Marathon win this past November, less than a year after a stress fracture forced her to withdraw from Boston — an epic, untouchable moment of redemption, bought with the pain of an unfortunate setback.

When we talk about heartbreak, this is often how we frame it. We’re a culture that’s comfortable with failure in the narrowest possible sense of the word. Failure is a trope, an origin story. It’s the thing that happens during the opening credits of the movie, the inciting incident setting our hero up for a greater triumph yet to come. There’s precious little room in that narrative for the reality of what heartbreak so often brings — for the paralysis that grows out of self-doubt, for sadness or anger, frustration or fear.

Embrace your setbacks, people tell us; use them as fuel and come back stronger. But what happens when what doesn’t kill you doesn’t really make you stronger?

What happens when failure is just failure?

It’s a question I’ve wrestled with a lot this year, while struggling to unpack the subtle, quiet, simultaneous collapse of both my relationship and my race in Boston. It’s a question that’s dogged my road-weary steps through innumerable false starts and first dates, through Netflix binges and missed workouts and halfhearted pledges to “get back at it.”

What does it mean when you can’t find the silver lining?

For the better part of a year, my running devolved from competitive training into what can only described (shudderingly so, I should add) as “jogging”. Out of shape and out of excuses, I eschewed racing in favour of long, contemplative runs through the city at night. I fixated endlessly on the contours of my own heartbreak, struggling to shape them into something redemptive, something that might pass for inspiration.

Resisting the urge to rationalize my failures as part of some bigger plan, I was forced to look at them for what they really were: the end result of a series of random, mostly arbitrary events outside of my control. Boston wasn’t great, but it wasn’t for lack of training. My relationship ended, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Give me clear sinuses, cooler weather and (let’s face it) slightly better taste in men, and both outcomes might have been entirely different.

Sometimes, the tipping point between success and failure has little or nothing to do with you. In a way, that’s a profoundly scary thought, because if our failures ultimately hinge on chance and luck, that means our accomplishments might, too. And so we plumb our heartbreaks for lessons that aren’t there, instead of celebrating the nobility the attempt. But in the end, we’re all at the mercy of the whims of luck.

And so, if you’re like me, and you’ve had a profoundly unlucky year, I’d like to take this moment to celebrate that: to celebrate every dream job you didn’t get, every PB you didn’t set, every meet-cute that never happened, every spark that failed to fly.

Here’s to quitting (at least you started). Here’s to heartbreak (at least you cared). Here’s to failure (at least you tried). Here’s to you — not your potential, not your goals, not your (still-pending) comeback. Here’s to you, right now, exactly as you are: defeated or down-and-out, injured or just plain cynical.

Here’s to 2017: the year I fell in love (with the wrong guy), the year I ran the Boston Marathon (way off pace). Here’s to the year that broke my heart twice. Here’s to the year that didn’t break me.

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