One more post about the Hamilton Marathon, then I promise to shut up about it.  My reflections so far have all been about external factors -the crowd, the course, my new friend – so this last one is all about me.

The week before the race I was more nervous than I’d ever been before a race, probably because I was putting a lot of pressure on myself.  I had decided that I was finally due for the perfect race, and was deciding whether to commit to my super-secret whisper goal known only to me and a small handful of others.  So early in the week I was actually losing sleep over it, playing my race plan over and over in my head, running the numbers repeatedly to decide if it was actually possible or if I was just setting myself up for bitter disappointment.  Fortunately the nerves peaked around Tuesday and when I finally committed my mind to the goal, I moved into a state of calm that was kind of alien to me.

My biggest fear was mental toughness:  all of my training predicted that I had selected a challenging but reasonable goal, but I was afraid that I wasn’t tough enough to handle the discomfort needed to achieve it.  I feared that when it came right down to it, I would let up in the name of immediate gratification.  I threw it out there on Running Mania, and fortunately my fellow Maniacs came through with some good tips; including what I used as my mantra: “this hurts now but I will love this memory.”

I am happy to say all the fretting was for nothing.  It helped that I had stayed on pace to meet my goal for at least the first 34K – maybe all the way to 36, but my ability to do math was seriously depleted by then so I can’t say for sure – knowing it was still a possibility was probably a huge factor in my pain tolerance.

After that, I began to bleed time.  I don’t blame myself really – I was still pushing with every ounce of my being, so what happened to my pace was somewhat outside of my control.  What a strange sensation: my brain fired a neuron to my legs that said something like “Giddy up!” and my legs said “Captain, I’m givin’er all she’s got!”  My effort level increased, my legs burned even more, and my breathing got ever harder –  but my pace just didn’t budge.  Then I knew I had executed my plan to use it all up out there without blowing up.

Even though I missed my super-secret whisper goal by 1 minute and 39 seconds, I have no regrets.  I ponied up where it counted and proved to myself that I am tougher than I had thought.

Related Posts:

Marathon Reflections
Reflections on the course
Reflections on the crowd
Reflections on teamwork

Prior to the Hamilton Marathon, I had never brought a music player to a race before.  But given the course logistics and the size of the field, I figured I might be spending a good percentage of the time alone with nothing but my own footfalls and breathing to keep me company.  So after a lot of personal debate, I decided to bring it along just in case I needed a boost.  It was cold at the start of the race and I didn’t want to fuss with my gloves, so I even put in one ear bud, ready to hit “play” if necessary.  I ran almost the entire race wired for sound, but never once used it.

You don’t need it so much at the start of the race – there’s a lot going on and you’re still surrounded by people for the first little while!  Shortly after the start, I became conscious of a person a few feet away but directly beside me who was keeping perfect time with me.  I kept an eye on her using my peripheral vision – she looked kind of serious and had her own earphones in, so I wasn’t sure if it was a coincidence.  As the pack thinned out, I was fairly sure it was not, so I looked over at her.  As if relieved that I finally acknowledged her, she immediately introduced herself as Darlene.  She asked me my name, my goal, and if she could stay with me for a bit.

Well “a bit” turned into nearly the whole race, and I have to say, it was great.  We both did the majority of our training alone, so it was nice to have someone there.  Even though we didn’t talk the whole time – we were both expending a lot of effort you see! – it was nice just to know someone was there.  Someone who had family on the course who would cheer for both of us, and would benefit from my family’s cheers – thus effectively doubling our personal crowd support. Someone to reassure me if I blurted out my doubts.  Someone who had a couple of doubts of her own, allowing me to reassure her, and by extension, reassure myself.  Someone who might keep running and leave me behind if I gave in to the desire to walk.

I lost track of Darlene immediately after the finish line as each of our personal crowds engulfed us – and, quite frankly, as I went looking for a place to sit down – but thanks to the miracles of online race results and Facebook, we did manage to find each other so we could share pictures.  I may never see her again, but I guess it doesn’t matter – that day we were a perfect team.

Related Posts:

Marathon reflections
Reflections on the course
Reflections on teamwork
Reflections on a race well run

If you’ve ever been at a finish line and you like to people-watch, I am sure you’ve seen them:  the people who finish, stretch, eat something, then wander off to a car – all by themselves.  I know I am totally projecting my own perspective when I feel bad – some people couldn’t care less if no one they know is there; some people don’t even tell people they are racing because they don’t want anyone to come out.

But personally, I am so grateful for my family and friends.  I feel so lucky that my husband will, without a single complaint, drag himself out of bed at OMG-o’clock on a Sunday morning and put up with my pre-race jitters (read: criticizing his choice of route around the road closures and asking him 97 times whether I will be warm enough in what I am wearing) to drive me to the start line.  I am fortunate that he happily brings along the good camera to try to capture the day – he takes shots of me running, as well as the leaders, the scenery, and anything else he thinks I might want to look at later.  It’s great that he emails maps of where he plans to cheer to everyone else who plans to meet up with him, and hands out his cell phone number so he can give directions and last minute detours.

I am also lucky that there are other people who want to call him and find him and join him on the course.  My parents, my close friends Kirk and Tanya – heck, even Tanya’s parents!  They cheerily drive from all over the place, as if they have nothing better to do, wave their cowbells wildly and provide high-fives for 30 seconds as I run by, before packing up and taking off for the next cheering point.  Tanya even jumped in a few times to provide a little boost for a few hundred metres.  They tease me that they do it for the breakfast buffet that they found just after the start, but I know better.

And let’s not forget the volunteers!  What a long day for them, and yet, I don’t think I have ever seen such enthusiastic course marshalling or water stations.  Even the police seemed happy to be there! Special hello to the final water station – McNab High School? – you were great with your cheers, high-fives, and big signs, right where they were really needed.

Then there are the strangers.  The crowds that line the course at various places, the people walking in the opposite direction on the trail – they cheer for all of the runners as though we are rock stars.  I can remember running towards the finish line in a semi-fog, and I never heard my name over the loud speaker, but I tuned in as I heard the announcer say, “…from Fergus…” and this small contingent leaning over the barricade erupted into a loud roar of “YEAH FERGUS!!!”   I placed 1,064^th out of 1,121, dead last in my age category, but I might as well have broken a world record – the crowd was great.

I feel so very fortunate that all of these people were a part of my day – I might be gushing a little, but I don’t care – thank you everyone.

Related Posts:

Marathon reflections
Reflections on the course
Reflections on teamwork
Reflections on a race well run

It must be a challenge to design a 42.2 kilometre race course.  Runners are a rather picky bunch with preferences about terrain, elevation, scenery, and about a thousand other possible variables.  Personally, I thought the Road2Hope Hamilton Marathon had a pretty good course, despite the re-routing to avoid construction.

I do a lot of my training on country roads, so the first half of the course was like home to me.  Starting in Stoney Creek, we ran around the outside of the city through some beautiful areas.  Some highlights for me included:

• A giant statue of the laughing Buddha, arms raised over his head – he seriously looked like he was cheering for us
• Some beautiful countryside including fields, trees, and lovely homes
• An out-and-back section; call me crazy, but as a back-of-packer, I like the chance to actually see the pack!

After exiting the parkway we came to a rather questionable part of the course – a road that was under construction with slightly treacherous terrain, not to mention a train-crossing that saw several runners waiting for the train.  I was fortunate not be delayed at that spot, and I think I would be annoyed if that was me if for no other reason than I would probably cramp up and fall off pace for the rest of the race!

Then we headed off along a residential street that looked familiar somehow, and I realized why when I saw the 14K marker for Around the Bay.  This stretch was lovely, but it felt so much longer as the 32-36K point in a marathon than it ever did as the 14K mark of ATB!  Honestly, it seemed like forever before we turned toward the lake and joined the waterfront trail.

The trail was also lovely, and we were very fortunate weather-wise – I could see this stretch being a heck of a challenge on a windy day.  Then I came to the point of the course that was the only point that made me say “you’ve got to be [expletive deleted] kidding me.”  Right where we were to cross the park to make the final turn around toward the finish, there was a gravel path.  No big deal, right?  I am not talking trail-friendly pea gravel here.  I am talking big, chunky back-road gravel.  The kind that challenges your stabilizing muscles with every step when you’re 41.5K into a marathon, and pokes into your feet enough that it would have hurt at the start of the race – so by the end it was like hot coals.  Even though it was a short stretch, it was too long for me.  To add insult to injury, as soon as I got back on nice, even paved trail, I looked up and saw a hill.  It’s not the steepest you’ll ever run, and it’s not that long, but again, it made some colourful words float through my fog-filled brain.  But given that they saved all of the good stuff for last, at least it couldn’t mess up much of my race plan.  Sure, it shot my final kick all to heck, but I don’t really know how much of a kick I really had left anyway!

Related Posts:

Marathon reflections
Reflections on the course
Reflections on teamwork
Reflections on a race well run

Now that I have had a week to recover from the Hamilton Marathon*, I’ve decided to share some stories.  The next few days tell the story of my nearly-perfect day:  my thoughts on the course, the crowd support, and my surprise race partner.  In the last part I will share some of what I was thinking and feeling.  If you’ve run a marathon before, you might be able to relate to some of this stuff, or if you’re sitting on the fence about whether to tackle one, you might see something that is helpful.  Of course, everyone’s experiences and the personal value they attach to the marathon are different – or as they say, YMMV – your mileage may vary!

*including: coming down with a wicked cold; trying to get some stuff done around the house; and tackling some of the more intellectual tasks that had been neglected due to my complete inability to concentrate on anything else over the week leading up to the race, such as reading the instructions on a frozen pizza box.

Related Posts:

Marathon reflections
Reflections on the course
Reflections on teamwork
Reflections on a race well run

While 45,000 people from all over the world, including our own Mark Sutcliffe, took to the streets of New York for the ING New York City Marathon yesterday, I joined more than 1,000 of my closest friends in Hamilton, Ontario for the Road2Hope Marathon.

A bit of background for you:

Marathon #1 – fall of 2008. I had an injury and didn’t finish my training but was too stubborn to stay home – so I ran a bit, walked some, then hobbled the whole second half. It was horrible, but I finished.  Moral of the story: I can do anything I put my mind to.

Marathon #2 – started to get dizzy and sick, still don’t know why. Not wanting a repeat of the Death March of 2008, I dropped out at 30K. Moral of the story: I don’t need to learn the same lesson twice.

Marathon #3 – was doing fantastic until about 23K when I had a bad asthma attack.  I ended up sitting for a while, walking for a while, and finally trotting the rest of the way, and while I finished quite strong, all things considered, I never did get back on pace.  Moral of the story: do the best I can with what I have on that day, and I will have no regrets.

Fast forward to yesterday, Marathon #4 – all I wanted was an uneventful, drama-free, downright boring day; I just wanted the gun to go off, then I would run, and then there would be the finish line and I would stop, and that would be it – please and thank you.

Well, I am happy to say that I got my wish.  Of course there is more to say than that – the weather was outstanding and the volunteers and spectators were awesome.  I ran most of the race with a woman named Darlene whom I met for the first time less than 1K in.  We saw some fun things, we got really tired and sore – after all, it is a marathon for Pete’s sake!  But that’s it.  No body parts fell off, my lungs behaved, I wasn’t abducted by aliens part way through or attacked by rabid surrealists with brightly-coloured power tools.  All in all it was an excellent day.

I got a shiny new Personal Best, but somehow it doesn’t feel right to compare it to my previous results.  I mean sure, I had finished two marathons, and yes, those victories were all mine.  In no way am I saying those results were somehow inferior.  But this time, it somehow feels different.  This time, I feel like I finally have a result that reflects my ability rather than the kind of day I had.

P.S. A big thank you to my family and friends who were there with me, either physically or in spirit!  You are the best!