Gloria McCoy is a runner from California who has travelled all over the world, to more than 200 countries and territories. She is going to tell us some amazing stories of some of the places she has run. Lauren Simmons has a great perspective to share on the past year without any races or personal best times, and what she has learned from that. And we’ll check in with Dave McGillivray, the race director of the Boston Marathon. He has run Boston more than 45 years in a row and last year, in one form or another, he did it three times.
The Chilly Half Marathon has always been one of my favourite races; held in early March, it brings out a certain kind of runner, one who has trained through the cold winds and treacherous streets of January and February. For three consecutive years, on the flat, fast, streets of Burlington, I ran Personal Best times at the Chilly Half Marathon. In March 2020, I was coming off of three years of successive marathon cycles. I knew I didn’t want to run another marathon that spring, but I had my sights set on the Around the Bay 30K at the end of March, like I always do. The Chilly Half in March 2020 was to be a stepping stone to the goal I had for Around the Bay, certainly not an unachievable one, and a goal that would be easy for many recreational runners: running 30K in under 2 hours and 30 minutes. And then, COVID-19 happened.
First, we saw races in the spring get canceled, then we watched the fall race calendar collapse, and we began to realize that racing – large groups of people travelling from afar to stand in close quarters and breathe heavily – was not a thing it was going to be happening anytime soon. When the pandemic hit, I kept running. I dropped my long run mileage considerably, with no long races to train for, but I kept my weekly mileage in a range which, while comfortable, was still a lot for me to take on without the break I’d normally take after a race. For March and April, I was running six days a week, whereas before the pandemic I ran five days a week, taking one day off completely, and one day to do the elliptical at the gym instead. Many runners can run everyday, but I’m not one of them. By May, I was injured.
I spent the late spring and summer on my bike. I didn’t miss running, as I had lots of other ways to stay active. I waited in line to swim laps at the city pool. I tried an HIIT app at home. I pulled my kid everywhere in a wagon. My foot pain never really went away, but with the approval of my physio, chiro, and sports doc, I resumed running in late summer.
I’ve been a runner for over a decade, but I’ve only been improving steadily in the last five years, since the birth of my daughter. With more consistent training, higher mileage (certainly not high mileage by many runners’ standards), focused workouts, dedication to physio and body work, and staying injury free, I successfully took on the distance of the marathon for the first time in 2017, again in 2018, and twice in 2019. I had my sights on another marathon in fall 2020, as my times kept improving, and I wanted to see how fast I could get. Most recreational runners will tell you that when they take on a training cycle, their goal is to achieve a Personal Best. And for five years, I had been doing just that.
So what does one do with it in a year without a Personal Best? What does it mean for someone who has been chasing improvement to suddenly have those chances for improvement taken away? As a year of COVID-19 has taught me, putting all my eggs in the basket of improving my running had provided me with a talisman for my adult life after the birth of my daughter. And in a year without the possibility of another Personal Best, I found myself searching for new meaning. I didn’t feel sad when I took two months off running, but I realized that I had spent most of the last five years coupling my own value as a human with my ability to make my body run faster. When that possibility disappeared, my sense of who I was dissipated too.
In my year without a Personal Best, I interviewed for a new job, and was promoted to an important position in my school with a portfolio including Equity, an extremely important area of work in our time. I taught a new course I had never taught before, designing it from scratch to meet the needs of my students, who, from most reports, loved the class. I pivoted to teaching music in a hybrid model, without my students being able to play instruments in class.
I parented my own kindergartener through the upheaval of her formative first school years, doing countless crafts, scavenger hunts, and park outings in all seasons, then later sitting with her through SK classes on Zoom while also running my own classes on a different device. In my year without a Personal Best I supported local businesses by ordering takeout and books and toys and comfy clothes. I did trivia over Zoom and shared Saturday night drinks online with groups of friends, all of us just trying to get through another week. I read a lot. I cried a lot. I drank a moderate amount of craft beer. I biked, I swam, and I ran, but I didn’t run faster or farther than I needed to.
Now that we’re approaching the one-year anniversary of that last race, and of the start of the pandemic, I’m forced to ask myself what I did with this year. While I may not have run a personal best, or even close, I extricated my sense of self-worth from running altogether. And while running will always be where I go to find myself, I now know there are other places to look, too.
Why is it that so many people stop running after 60? We’ll talk to author Byron Jenkins about how he has managed to keep going. We’ll talk to a runner who’s tackling the new 50k ultramarathon at Ottawa Race Weekend. And a woman in British Columbia who has found joy on the trails, even in the middle of winter.
We’ll talk to Dan Pak. A couple of years ago he was being treated for a heart condition. Now he’s training for an ultramarathon. Jen Dingle is getting ready to take on a new challenge at the Around the Bay event. And a wonderful story from Robyn Michaud-Turgeon, who has run 19 marathons and is chasing down all of the World Marathon Majors.
Running during the winter can sometimes feel awkward. Depending on how deep the snow is, it’s kind of like running on the beach, minus the tide rolling in, palm trees, warm sun on your back, okay maybe not at all like the beach. Regardless, with many outdoor activities and recreational sports on hold this season it’s probably no surprise that snowshoes have recently increase in popularity. Add in the fact that many ski resorts are still maintaining snowshoeing and cross-country ski trails (despite hills being temporarily closed) which means that if you’ve always wanted to hit the trials in winter, this is the best season for getting to it.
With the racing season still in limbo, runners looking for a new challenge this winter might want to consider snowshoe running. Here’s what you need to know about this sport which has gained popularity among trail runners in recent years.
Hitting the Trails
Ottawa runner Stephen Bierbrier says he fell into snowshoe running because of his love of trail running. After attending a Bushtukah Stittsville winter trail running event where everyone was giddy to run in their snowshoes, Bierbrier wanted in on the fun. “I saw the joy in their faces as they went on their snowshoe run and had to get in on that,” he said. The next weekend he grabbed his old-school snowshoes and got out there with everyone else. “It was so hard, but I saw everyone was struggling,” says Bierbrier. “Snowshoes on runners IS the great equalizer between the elites and the newbies.” For Anne Champagne a runner in Lanaudiere, Quebec a desire to keep running all winter that got her hooked on using snowshoes four years ago. “I love to use snowshoes because it doesn’t keep me from running in the mountains during the winter, I can do specific training whatever the weather forecast.” Take Small Steps
When it comes to getting started Champagne recommends runners start by trying shorter distances. “You have to adapt to the snow shoes so start on less technical trails and progress,” says Champagne. “After that, just enjoy, explore and discover.” With snowshoe running there are so many different factors that it doesn’t make sense to stress over the distance or your pace, especially when you’re getting started. With most trails being packed down running in snowshoes really just takes some getting used to. “For every 2km you run on road, you’ll be able to run 1k on snowshoes,” says Bierbriar. “Remember the first time you’ve ever run, pace yourself because you are now into resistance running.”
Get Equipped
Before you go out and spend money on snowshoes, it’s a good idea to try out a pair first. Not unlike running shoes, you need to find the right fit for you. And while the style and length does carry, runners will want to look for a pair that is light-weight and shorter. “You want the least resistance and the best fit,” says Bierbrier. “Snowshoe running is still going to be challenging, but you really don’t want to create extra hurdles for you on the trails.”
Go Discover & Explore
Strapping on snowshoes means that there is no limit to where you can explore. “The running technique and efficiency is better. You can go wherever you want with snowshoes,” says Champagne. For both Champagne and Bierbrier, this is a chance to enjoy winter from the trails to the mountains, no matter the conditions. And if you prefer the solitary pursuit of running, like Champagne, then she suggests running on the National Trail particularly Parc Regional de la Foret Ouareau as a favourite spot. For Bierbrier Gatineau Park has become his favourite spot in every season and Wolf Trail a top option for snowshoeing. Bierbrier also recommends Pinhery Forest Pine Grove Forest and the City of Ottawa’s South March Highlands Conservation Forest.
Between the exploration of new trails and enjoyment of nature, the unique challenge of snowshoe running is one more way runners can really make the most of these snow days ahead.
Anna Lee Boschetto is a regular iRun contributor. This winter she began snowshoeing and snowshoe running much shorter distances on the trails in and around York, Peel and Halton regions.
I recently celebrated my ten-year “run-aversary,” reflecting mischievously on how in the formative stage, I would sneak downstairs to the poorly lit basement in the family home to alternate between walking and running on my older brother’s treadmill. In those early months, my motivation was a mix between rebuilding strength from an undiagnosed illness and a desire to push myself, to see if I—a non-runner—could learn how to run.
You may guess the ending to this flashback is a whopping, Yes, she can run, and I would playfully jest that fits more as the rising action in this narrative. You see, in these ten years as a runner, my weekly mileage fluctuates as the seasons of life also change—the busy-ness of work, the onset of injuries or illnesses, and the discovery of new hobbies impact my commitment levels beyond that skeletal framework of three weekly runs.
Sheepishly, I wish I was more of an expert on how to qualify for Boston rather than rebuilding running habits cyclically. But alas, this is my truth, and serves as the entry point to this collective conversation on sharing strategies with both new runners and those looking to get back into the sport. My contribution here is a curated collection of some pointers that I have and continue to successfully employ in my efforts to rebuild and scale up my mileage. They can be grouped into three pillars: (1) goal-setting and tracking; (2) mindset; and (3) technology.
Pillar One: Goal Setting and Tracking
Experts across industries and sport often celebrate the simple act of writing down one’s goals as a key strategy to success. This holds true in running whether the goal is a Couch to 5K program, to expand mileage by 10 percent weekly, or to run a personal best (PB) at that next race (whenever this may be). The efficacy of goal setting stems from: moving a hope or intention into the realm of practicality—a written goal necessitates an action plan; serving as a mechanism of individual accountability; and providing an opportunity to undertake trend analysis to identify opportunities for modifications.
I have used multiple training journals and the Believe Training Journal has proven to be very useful in the areas of creating space to: (1) evaluate the perception of effort on any given run; and (2) rate the overall quality of the run out of ten and identify variables that may have impacted the performance (e.g., weather, emotional stressors, diet). Through this process, I have also learned how motivating it can be to revisit entries that shine a spotlight on those awesome, awe-inspiring, floating on-top-of-the-world runs to keep me forging ahead.
[Now for you:Which journal—or more broadly, goal-setting—habit have you found the most helpful? Share in the comments below.]
Pillar Two: Mindset
As someone who has previously had great amateur success in running, the most significant mindset barrier that I can fall into is the unproductive trap of comparisons to my former speedy self. Sure, if I limit my comparisons to singularly using them as a strategy to overcome the “I can’t do this” – it can be helpful to remind myself that I could do this before, and therefore I can likely do it again. Otherwise, it can quickly slip into the realm of toxicity.
A useful tip provided to me years ago is the importance of a mental mantra—a short phrase or a meaningful word that helps propel us forward when we might be tempted to give up. During different seasons, I have used the following ones – “one step forward”, “you’ve got this”, “move forward.”
[Reader, do you have mantras that you repeat to yourself while running, especially on the harder days? Tell us in the comment box below.]
And in those moments when a mantra is not proving helpful, I embrace the twenty-minute hack. I set my watch for 20 minutes and give myself permission to end the run then. Usually, by that point in the run, I have overcome the initial hurdles and will choose to keep going for another several kilometres. However, if that is all I can muster, I will still gain the cardiovascular and endorphin benefits of a sustained elevated heart rate.
Pillar Three: Technology
Like many runners, I go through cycles of being a “puritan” (i.e., free from technology) and at other times, I use all the tech gadgets I can to help keep me motivated in rebuilding habits. From a safety perspective, I will always run with lights, beginning at dusk, regardless if I’m running in the darkness of winter or in the glory of midsummer.
I find a sports watch (I currently use a Garmin Felix 5x) motivating and nearly six months later, I am still discovering new aspects of its utility, including a built-in training program. There’s that psychological nudge to keep me tying up my laces to continue a streak. However, at times, I find the “training condition” function a bit challenging in that it will rate each run based on my previous ones. Who wants confirmation that a challenging run doesn’t meet your level of fitness. For this very reason, I deliberately choose to opt of wearing a sports watch at least once a week. This provides an opportunity for me to “de-intellectualize” running and lean in to all the pleasures of the sport.
Outside of these three pillars, I am a member of a running community in Toronto where I am nurtured, championed, and challenged to continue to grow. In these spaces, my fellow runners remind me that the muscle memory of runners is strong and to be gentle on myself—and most importantly, to enjoy each run as much as possible. That is the gift of today.
It’s the type of running that anchors you in the present moment, the deep now. Eyes transfixed on the undulating terrain, meticulously manipulated by nature’s dance of the melt-freeze. Propelling myself with precarious steps along the slick, trodden path, I’m reminded of the masses of people communing with nature in an attempt to stay healthy and sane amidst the madness of the moment.
We seem to be turning back towards the truth of the forest, as much as we struggle to articulate it, we understand its healing wisdom. The bare branches of the birch forest, no longer laden with snow, stand still in the crisp morning air, the inhalation of which burns the back of my throat. My warm breath hangs thick amongst the cedar boughs, slow to evaporate, even after I’m gone.
This is winter trail running in southeastern British Columbia during an unusually cold stretch of late January’s high-pressure weather patterns. The early morning missions are quiet, with the exception of some small, spry cross-billed birds that swoop in large psychedelic formations throughout the sky. The usual trail goers aren’t ready to face the frost yet, so I have space all to myself.
As I crest the top of the trail a thin layer of ice hides under foot and catches me off guard as I strain to stay up amidst the slide. One moment of missed focus is all it takes. My inner thighs are quick to engage as my back braces and I’m able to regain composure just in the knick of time, a small celebration for the stabilizers that have been strengthened by the last few months of sprinting in the snow.
As I return to the wood-burning warmth of my winter nest, I remove the necessary layers that below zero adventures beckon. My exposed cheeks glow a rosey red as my eyes glisten with tears. My pounding heart begins to slow as I sit down next to the flickering flames and let out a deep, morning sigh. What better way to begin a winter’s day than with a wonderful run on the ice?
Some years ago I read that only two percent of Canadian runners will continue with their passion after age 65. I was 60 at the time and struggling to keep running, so this low retention rate jolted me. There was a good chance I wouldn’t make it across the age 65 finish line.
I’ve never been able to verify that two percent statistic. Part of the problem rests with arriving at a definition of what constitutes a runner. We range from elite marathoners to twice a week joggers. Still, no person I’ve asked has doubted the figure’s veracity. All agree that a very low number of Canadians will be putting in the kilometres beyond traditional retirement age.
Think of this low percentage the next time you’re at a road race (hopefully, this summer). Look at a random group of 100 competitors in the crowd. Only two will still be running in their mid-60s. This is a sobering picture considering running’s unquestioned benefits of later-life health.
Recreational running boasts the highest participation rate of any sport on the planet. Why then do so many Canadians give it up? The most common answer comes in one word: knees. Yet running is actually healthy for knee joints. Others retire due to a physical ailment, such as a bad back, or some pressing medical issue. For most of us, there is a wealth of proven solutions to help extend our running lives.
Sport physiotherapy, dynamic stretching, yoga and core strength training are a few. Ditto for wellness initiatives like weight control, improved diet and ditching alcohol. For those of us committed to it for life, running is an exercise option worth pursuing. Yet baby boomers, Canada’s largest age wave in history, are giving it a pass. Quitting at 50 leaves them 30 years to watch others enjoying it.
Some of the blame lies with running events that focus on racing, winning and personal best times. Some runners are finished with these by age 50, if not earlier. Lowering athletic expectations is difficult for competitive personalities. Adjusting to running simply for pleasure is for the majority, impossible and they quit, for good.
I enjoyed the euphoria of big races – with 50,000 others in the Vancouver SUN Run – until age 53. I expected to continue racing weekend 10Ks forever. Then came the wall, that rapid decline so many experience, in my mid-fifties. Always fit and confident, I didn’t see it coming and didn’t know how to respond.
No longer a ‘serious’ runner I slipped into being an inactive, injured and overweight one – a physical train wreck.
I turned this around by learning to embrace running’s slower cousin, jogging. For me, it delivers all of running’s best outcomes – joy, health and energy. Jogging may even be my life-saver. Running after 60 – along with the positive habits that necessarily accompany it – isn’t just recreation. It’s medicine for late-life vitality and longevity. I sometimes feel I am, literally, running for my life.
This past year six people I knew died from cancer or heart incidents. All were in their 50s or 60s and were bright, positive people with a lot of life left to give. No, running wouldn’t have saved them all. It’s not a panacea for all medical ills. But determined, daily movement belongs somewhere in the larger discussion of late life wellness and preventive medicine.
Every day this year one thousand Canadians will turn 65. We’re an aging nation. The generation that ushered in the 1970s running boom will soon become the least active demographic in Canada.
“Of course they’re the least active!” I can hear people saying. “Do you really expect pensioners to be as active as thirty-somethings?” As contrarian as it sounds, yes, I do. We largely choose not to be because inactivity is built into our culture.
My province is brilliant at facilitating sport and physical activities for youth. This despite a large elderly population and serious levels of lifestyle-induced unwellness. A Herculean effort is made for active participation for the first 20 years of our lives but next to nothing for the last 20.
Negative social attitudes don’t help. I’ve become inured to the incredulous stares, smirks and outright head-shaking disgust from people who see me jogging. Apparently what I’m doing is off the charts weird. “A walk around the block with the dog, fine,” our society seems to say, “but running? At your age? Are you crazy?”
This despite science that appears to show that more, perhaps even most of us, may be capable of running into our 70s and 80s. Ontario phenom Ed Whitlock set world records in his 80s. Mick Jagger once said he jogged 10K a day. Sir Mick is 77 and going strong. Renowned Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami runs 10K daily. He is 71.
I was winning long distance races in 1970. I no longer need organized competition. I’m a proud jogger and honoured to have met Arthur Lydiard, the man credited with single-handedly inventing the activity I embrace. Lydiard told his running charges to slow down, to jog, because they were moving for the good of their health, not to win races.
Last summer I completed several solo rural rave runs, all of them challenging, gratifying and health-inducing. Their palpable sensation of freedom and bliss made this senior feel like the happiest runner in Canada. The plan is to continue them until I’m in my 80s. For now I’ll enjoy my membership in that rare runner’s group—the Two Percent Club.
Jenkins has just finished his book Jogging Through the Graveyard, Running For My Life After 60
We’ll catch up with an old friend, the amazing adventure runner and explorer Ray Zahab. Jen Miller will share the experience of participating in a 24-hour race. And elite runner Reid Coolsaet still has Olympic dreams. He’ll join us with an update on his own running and some advice for runners.
There are many reasons participation in the oldest road race in North America is a MUST do event this year.
Find your distance and Nail it! Around the Bay has added the 2K and 10K distances for a total of five distances to choose from that include the existing 5K, 15K and 30K. Participate in The Hammer—all 5 distances—and the combined times from each event will be your Hammer Time! Participants have between March 25 to April 25 to complete any of the event distances, including The Hammer, to be included as official results. Official results can be uploaded and found here. Participants in Around the Bay are encouraged to share their accomplishments on social media using the hashtag #NailedIt.
The Hammer souvenir shirt sponsored by Hoka One One
This year, The Hammer is presented by Hoka One One, who are sponsors of the Hammer medals and souvenir tee-shirts. Stay tuned for stories of inspiration and motivation from Team Hoka: Jennifer Dingle, Charles Minor, James Kupka and Karin Femi.
Plus, now hear this: a must-add to your playlist is the event’s original theme song, Around the Bay 2021 song, written by Canadian country singer Abigaile and co-written by Zack Werrner. Originally inspired by a bay in her province of Newfoundland, she was informed by Zack about a race he participated in called Around the Bay. Together, they created a rendition of Abigaile’s song for Around the Bay that starts and finishes in Hamilton, Ontario.
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