Running Round-up: Catching Up On the Blog While Tapering Edition

Race weekend is nearly here! Here's what I've been up to, or what I've wanted to write about but have been procrastinating instead, all week long.

Hoping there's no "kneed" to worry
Tapering is great. It feels like a nice break after so much hard work. The advice for tapering is generally: back off the mileage, but keep running i.e. don't just stop running altogether. 

Love these banners. Pic cred: @broadwayrunclub

So last weekend, I did a 6 km run with my husband, which was a nice little treat as we don't run together that often. After the run, however, I noticed one of my knees was quite sore - but no big, sometimes that happens; my knees have always been a little crunchy. 

But then... my knee was sore the next day, and the day after that. I'd been icing and foam rolling, and I'd stayed off it i.e. no running whatsoever. So when I woke up Wednesday morning and it was still sore with seemingly no improvement, I started to panic a little bit...  along the lines of, "WTF is wrong with this knee [because I really had no idea]? Am I seriously not going to being able to run on Sunday??" (Cue fainting and then waking up immediately followed by uncontrollable sobbing. If that were the case.) 

Fortunately, my knee finally felt like it had started to loosen up today. Luckily, with some more ice and rest and a bit of targeted massage, it'll feel nice and normal and ready to go by this weekend. Fingers, toes and knees crossed!

Running for depressives
I recently read Matt Haig's book, Reasons to Stay Alive. I'm not one much for reading self-help books, but it had been rated highly and was touted as part memoir, so I thought I'd give it a go.

Rather than this be a proper book review, I'll simply say: I liked it. And: it's worth reading. Also, I wanted to share an excerpt from his book (which I hope the author won't mind) as in it, he writes about how running helped him manage his depression. As someone who too, has suffered with this, I could totally relate. Figured this would also be timely, given the recent work done by Heads Together at the London Marathon to tackle stigma surrounding mental health. 

Thanks for your words, Matt.

  Running is a commonly cited alleviator of depression and anxiety. It certainly worked for me. When I started running I was still getting very bad panic attacks. The thing I liked about it was that many of the physical symptoms of panic - the racing heart, the problematic breathing, the sweating - are matched by running. So while I was running I wouldn't be worried about my racing heart because it had a reason to be racing.

  Also, it gave me something to think about. I was never exactly the fittest person in the world, so running was quite difficult. It hurt. But that effort and discomfort was a great focuser. And so I convinced myself that through training my body I was also training my mind. It was a kind of active meditation.

  It also, of course, gets you fit. And getting fit is pretty much good for everything. When I became ill I had been drinking and smoking heavily, but now I was trying to undo that damage.

  So every day I would go running, or do an equivalent type of cardiovascular exercise. Like Haruki Murakami - whose excellent book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running I would later read - I found running to be a way of clearing the fog. ('Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running,' Murakami also said, which is something I've come to believe too, and is one of the reasons I believe it helps the mind.)

   I would come back from a run and stretch and have a shower and feel a gentle sense of release, as though depression and anxiety were slowly evaporating from inside me. It was a wonderful feeling. Also, that kind of monotony that running generates - the one soundtracked by heavy breathing and the steady rhythm of feet on pavements - became a kind of metaphor for depression. To go on a run every day is to have a kind of battle with yourself. Just getting out on a cold February morning gives you a sense of achievement. But that voiceless debate you have with yourself - 'I want to stop! No, keep going! I can't, I can hardly breathe! There's only a mile to go! I just need to lie down! You can't!' - is the debate of depression, but on a smaller and less serious scale. So for me, each time I forced myself out there in the cold grey damp of a West Yorkshire morning, and pushed myself to run for an hour, it gave me a little bit of depression-beating power. A little bit of that 'you'd better be careful with who you are messing with' spirit.

  It helped, sometimes. Not always. It wasn't foolproof. I wasn't Zeus. There were no magic thunderbolts at my disposal. But it is nice to build up, over the years, things that you know do - on occasion - work. Weapons for the war that subsides but that can always ignite again. And so writing, reading, talking, travelling, yoga, meditation and running were some of mine.

My dad is my trainer
These past four months training for number five, I've faced a whole gauntlet of emotion: joy, elation, anxiety, fear, uncertainty, sadness, overwhelm, anger. Running, for me, has always had the ability to bring out all of these feelings and put them right at the forefront - at a place where one is forced to face them all, versus putting them aside or trying to ignore them.

Me and my dad, then and (almost) now

That was even more telling, this time around in training, doing all this for my dad. On those days when the runs were hard, and all I wanted to do was quit, thinking about my dad kept me going. I have this memory from when I was a kid and he was teaching me how to ride a bike. I was terrible at it. I was scared. So scared, in fact, I didn't want him to let go. 

And - you know something? He didn't. He ran so much trying to get me to learn how to ride that stupid bike. 

When I think about it now, it makes me laugh... seeing him in my mind's eye, hanging onto the back of my bike, me crying about not being able to do it, him not letting go because I didn't want him to. 

Of course, he eventually let go and I discovered I was able to do something I felt I'd never be able to do. 

I guess that's still what it's like today. He may not be here anymore but he had my back then, and he certainly still does now. Those hard days during training, I conjured up his memory - and there he was, supporting me, urging me to keep going, encouraging me to not give up. 

And I didn't. I completed all those long runs. I made it to the end of every route I'd planned. Hopefully that will be the case on Sunday as well. 

Come hang out with me on the course!
There is a very handy feature on the BMO Vancouver Marathon website, whereby you can look up my bib number and then "watch" me as I'm running... so a little creepy, but mostly cool, right?

The system updates each time runners cross the following marked distances on the course: 8.5 km, 10 km, 12 km, 15 km, 21.1 km (halfway!), 24 km, 29 km, 35 km, 40 km and, of course, 42.2 km a.k.a. the finish line. Plus, the weather looks like it's going to be great. Definitely hoping that the forecast holds out!

If you come out on Sunday, be sure to find me and say hi... especially if you donated, so that I can give you a big sweaty hug and thank you in person. 

© Vancouver International Marathon Society

Friday Fun Run

Happy Friday, friends! 

For once, we experienced bonafide, grade A sunshine in Vancouver today. Yippee! Unfortunately, it's back to rain tomorrow. Sad face! 

Wowza, if I do say so myself. Look at this daaaayy!

Knowing this, I went out for a random little run this afternoon - in shorts! - to soak up some vitamin D. I also decided to skip the regular routes and run just for fun. The result: a view I don't normally see from on foot, which always helps to keep the running fresh. After nearly four months of running largely the same routes from week to week, anything new and interesting at this stage is a welcome change.

Journal entry 
Today's run: 7 km. Weather: sunny. Beautiful. Glorious. Feeling: pretty darn good. Glad for the change of scenery. 

Good luck to everyone taking part in races this weekend, including the Vancouver Sun Run and London Marathon. Have fun out there!

Running with Lady Cramps: A Special Kind of Hell

Preamble: I've hesitated to post anything too female-specific on this site, but seeing as more than half the population is made up of women, and all women have similar issues on this front - and betting that the majority of my readers are female - here we are.

Dudes: this post may be TMI (too much information) for you, depending on your comfort level with lady-specific issues. Proceed with caution. 

Menstrual cramps = the worst. Am I right, girls?

I've always thought it grossly unfair that women should have to endure such discomfort month after month: cramps, headaches, mood swings, nausea, bloating. Need I say more? (Stupid men.)

© Getty Images

In actuality, the menstrual cycle causes variations in hormonal levels throughout the month, with high levels of estrogen pumping through our systems right before ovulation but dropping really low during premenstruation - causing all sorts of great symptoms like many of the ones aforementioned, as well as sluggishness and fatigue. However, once menstruation starts up again, estrogen levels go back on the rise, resulting in energy going up as well (Kowalchik, 1999). 

About running while on a period... as running author Claire Kowalchik puts it, "Even if I'm feeling like I really don't want to run--the running seems effortless once I get going. In fact, I ran my fastest and easiest marathon on the first day of my period one year" (Kowalchik, 1999, p.140). 

At the risk of even more TMI, I've got my period right now. In the past, I've suffered debilitating cramps and menstrual headaches which would put me out for days, if not longer. So, this morning, and in the interest of deciding whether or not to give today's long run a try, I pulled Kowalchik's book off the shelf, flipped through her chapter on "Special Concerns as a Woman: Menstruation" and (re-)read her quote above. Buoyed by her experience, I decided to head out there... and also because I knew the alternative would be sitting on the couch, wondering if I should've at least given it a try. 

Long story short: SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

I deliberately chose a route that would keep me close to where I could bail and call a cab if things got really bad. While escape-by-cabbie did not end up happening, I came so close to doing so on multiple occasions. 

The first 40 minutes or so I thought - initially - were the worst. The menstrual cramping was bad, and so I just focused on breathing and throwing my feet out in front of me, one step at a time. Eventually, the cramps subsided... but then they came back... and then they subsided... and then came back. 

There seemed to be no pattern to it; they just came and went, seemingly as they pleased. And each time they came back, things got a little worse because I was getting longer into the run and more tired as the morning went on. 

At some point I realized there was nothing more important than focusing on running through the pain of my menstrual cramps. Pace, heart rate, gait... basically, all the things one should be concerned about while running... none of these things mattered more than just getting through this current cramp.

And then - it started to rain. And I cried. I couldn't help it. I was tired, uncomfortable and barely keeping my shit together as it was. So when the rain started, it kinda broke me a little.

But then I got over it - and lucky too as, soon after, I bumped into a friend who was also out for her run. Last thing I'd want while out running is to see someone I know, while bawling my eyes out. That's not good for anyone. 

Fortunately, after my mini-breakdown and bumping into my friend, I was about 6 km from home and towards the end of my run - just a bridge and a very familiar route left. 

But then, with about 3 km to go, the oddest thing happened. 

I realized I was going to be short on my run - by about 1/2 a km - and instead of living with it, I decided to stay out a little longer to make the distance for today. 

Fortitude. Who knew? It shocked the hell out of me to discover I had some left. 

Post-run was all about the protein and painkillers. And now - I sit, eat and will generally do nothing the rest of the day after publishing this blog post. I believe I've earned it.

Any of you ladies ever run while on your period? What was your experience? Hope it was better than mine. 

Journal entry for today
Today's run: 26 km. The schedule actually called for 29 km, but I decided to compromise given Aunt Flo was in town. My typical 29 km route would have taken me out to places where I couldn't call a cab if things went bad, so I opted for my 26 km route instead so I could have the option to abort if need be. Weather: the forecast called for partly sunny and no showers. Guess they got that one wrong. Feeling: glad to have done my run and finished so well, but I'll probably never run while on my period ever again. Strangely enough, even with all the menstrual cramps and negotiating with myself on whether to stay out there, I still felt better about this run than last week's 23 km run... the bad mood of which, I realize now, may have been due to depleted estrogen stores in addition to the massive hangover. Live and learn.

Source
Kowalchik, C. (1999). The Complete Book of Running for Women.

Looking Into the LSD

LSD. No, not that, or even "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". I'm talking about the long slow distance run, like the one I did today. I've always wondered why marathon training programs typically top out at 32 km, so I looked into it. Here's what I found out.

Why 32 km?
The training program I've referenced for all of my marathons comes from the Running Room and, like many other programs, the longest distance to run in training is 32 km (20 mi). But why this distance, specifically, and not something closer to actual marathon distance of 42.2 km? According to the interwebs (Matz, 2014; Runner's World, 2014), the general theory is: anything longer can increase the risk of injury. Recovery also takes longer with any runs over 32 km. 

Hanson’s marathon training method (Humphrey, 2011) also outlines that running for more than three hours means diminishing returns for runners, doing more harm than good by damaging muscles, compromising recovery time, and depleting glycogen stores significantly (Matz, 2014).

At least I'm consistent.

Best to ignore that though, right?
The above, however, I believe does not apply to me. According to a trainer I worked with when I first ran with Diabetes Canada in 2009, the long run pace for those looking "to complete" i.e. no specific finish time goals should be "between 8:30 to 9:30 minutes per kilometer...if you are going faster you stressing [sic] your body to the point that it can not [sic] recover by the next quality workout" (email from Team Diabetes Trainer, 2009). Doing the math, this works out to what is my typical finish time for these long runs which is around four and a half hours.

So... I dunno
In summary, looking at all the information as a whole: I dunno what the right answer is. What I do know is that, until I got the above information from a trainer, I had been running too fast (for me) on my long runs and was well on my way to injury and burnout. Her advice saved me in training for my first marathon, and I successfully finished that marathon without getting hurt. And - looking at my data over the years and having finished three more marathons since then, I'd say that advice has served me well over the years.

If anyone else is slower, I sure haven't seen them
Logically, I know there are slower runners than me out there; finisher information from all of my races has told me that. But where they are? I sure as hell don't know. I don't pass anyone when I'm out there; I am definitely the one getting passed. Sometimes this bothers me, but then I remind myself of the distance I'm running and I usually get over it. 

...but then, what if they're running the same distance, only a lot faster than me? In those instances, I'm gonna guess that advice like Hanson's is for them. 

In conclusion...
With six more weeks of training to go, I'm gonna stick with what I know works. That means, slow long runs, soaking my legs in cold water, foam rolling, rest and shorter runs throughout the week. This way, I know that I can recover adequately from week to week. No pushing past what is realistic for me. No comparing myself to others and what I'm reading on the internet (even though that can be really hard to do). And - if I could - I would run this marathon tomorrow, mainly because I'm sick of training. But since that's not possible, all I can do is stay vigilant, and hope for nice weather and strong runs based on my current fitness level. 

Journal entry for today
Today's run: 32 km. Weather: started out damp, but turned out to be partly sunny (thank you, Mother Nature!). Feeling: good. Confident. Which is freaking me out, a little. Not sure if I should embrace it, or wait for the other shoe to drop. Gonna try to let it go.

No rain looks good on you, Vancouver.

Sources
Humphrey, L. (2011). Hanson’s Marathon Method: The 16 Miler. Hansons Running.
Matz, J. (2014). How long should your longest run of marathon training be? WalkJogRun.
Runner's World (2014). Forums Topic: Marathon training plans stopping at 32K.

Don't Think About It

Okay guys, I'm kind of freaking out a little. My long run this weekend is scheduled at 29 km. Like, 29 freaking km. 

Normally, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make sure I get my long runs in - for example, prep my gear the night before, make sure my Garmin is charged up and ready to go, check the weather forecast for no mental surprises. My favourite and surefire tactic is to leave first thing in the morning before thinking about it too much. By the time my brain has caught up, I'm usually 20 or 30 minutes into the run which generally means: no turning back now.

Sensible messages ought to be repeated. 

However, the problem with not having run these really long distances in so long is that I really don't know if I can do them anymore. Sure, I've been doing a fairly good job at sticking to the training schedule and yes, I've already done 26 km... so what's 3 km more on top of that, right? 

Right??  

I'm nervous and scared, that's for sure. But I'm excited, too - excited to see if I can do it, excited to try, excited to prove to myself that I can. 

But, yeah. Mostly, I'm just trying to not think about it too much lest I freak the fuck out and end up immobile.

Here's to my first 29 km long run in three years! Wish me luck. I may need it.

A Love Affair

I moved to the Canadian west coast 13 years ago and haven't looked back since.

The city has its faults: stark class divides, gentrification - displacing and further marginalizing some of the city's most vulnerable, skyrocketing real estate prices. But its natural beauty is unparalleled.

I've been running long distances here now for the better part of a decade. I've spent hours on trails, on the seawall and along the beaches and, each time, I marvel at the splendour this place has to offer. I'm so grateful for taking the chance to move here. That decision changed my life, in more ways than I can say.

False Creek sunrise

I'm sure I've written about my love affair with this city before, but it definitely bears repeating. Vancouver: I love you.

Inukshuk at English Bay

Small Inukshuks and other assorted "rock art"

Today is a rest day but yesterday's run: 8 km. Weather: still cold for Vancouver but, with the incredible sunrises we've been having, who cares? Feeling: okay. Calves are not great, for some reason. Probably in need of a little stretching and massage. 

Stay tuned for future posts, where I plan to actually write about running (go figure!). I'm working up some material on new and old gear, and what it takes to train for a marathon.

Running Round-Up: Arctic Outflow Edition

Hello friends! And merry (early) holidays to you all. My apologies for being MIA: insert usual school and end of term excuses here. Let's get to it, shall we?

Baby, It's Cold Outside
Canada is in a deep freeze right now courtesy of some cold Arctic air that's been pushing into the region. Unlike our prairie neighbours to the east, the west coast is thankfully not experiencing wind chill values below -40°C, although -14°C with wind chill is certainly much colder than us fair-weather Vancouverites are accustomed to. The one good thing about all this? Clear, sunny skies, and brisk running. Check out these gorgeous shots I captured on this morning's 5 km run (all unfiltered).

Science World and downtown Vancouver

Looking northward on the Cambie Street bridge

False Creek, downtown and mountains

Really? Really?
Whoever is writing the status updates on John Stanton's Facebook page has been a little preachy as of late when it comes to food and, quite frankly, it's getting annoying. For example:

• As a runner your food is your fuel…select your choices wisely
• Reward yourself with a run…rather than with food
• Think of your food as fuel for your performance …make your choices wisely
• As a runner you eat for performance … a non athletic person eats for pleasure …make your choices wisely

Don't get me wrong. I understand how important it is to make smart and healthy food decisions. But everything in moderation, right? Perhaps that includes reading these Facebook updates as well.

Announcement: Number 5!
I am officially registered for marathon #5 and I'm super excited! On Sunday, May 4, I will be alongside thousands of other walkers and runners at the BMO Vancouver Marathon as I endeavour to complete this "marathon" journey (ha, get it?). It's the marathon I've always wanted to run, in the best city on earth, in my own backyard. I cannot wait.

I'm planning to be on the blog more in the next few weeks, once I'm finished with everything for term. If you're in town and want to join me on a run, followed by a delicious, rewarding and satisfying meal of our own choosing (take that, Stanton), hit me up! 

Sore Feet, Soul Intact

Here's the general formula: run 32 km. Instantly feel better about yourself and life in general.

Of course, this doesn't happen every time (see Long Distance Do-Over: Update or The Yin and Yang Of Running). And more often than not, it happens when I least expect it. Here's the shakedown on what happened this weekend...

With gal pal The BB Creative in town, who I haven't seen in a very long time, we set out on the town on Friday night ready to par-tay. Which we did. And which I paid for on Saturday, which ended up being a total bust of a day. Clearly, I'm getting too old to keep up with the young'uns.

So, surprise surprise, after I slept in today, after spending all day yesterday in Hangover City trying to rehydrate and basically just keep food down, and after having neither picked a route for my long run, nor organized all my supplies the night before (as is my regular routine), I woke up less than enthused about having to run for many hours. 

© BMO Vancouver Marathon

But perhaps I was destined to have read this great article by Jeff Gaudette yesterday, in which he writes about the importance of learning how to pace properly and running by feel. Because when I set out late in the morning having no mental preparation for today's run, those tips kept going through my mind. So I told myself, "Okay. Just relax. It doesn't matter how long this run takes, so long as you don't kill yourself trying to finish." And then things turned out spectacularly! I love it when a non-plan comes together.

Today's run: 32 km. Weather: cloudy and cool, with some light, and wonderfully refreshing, intermittent showers. Feeling: sore legs and feet, but pretty darn happy.

I Live in Utopia

You all know how much I love the west coast. I find it brilliant and beautiful - in the rain, and in the sun. 

Running has created an opportunity to truly appreciate this wonderful city I call home. As I'm sure all you runners would agree: there's no better way to experience a place than by foot. 

Long distance running provides even more occasion to be connected with my city's beautiful surroundings. Getting up to over 20 km on these long runs gives me the opportunity to really get out of my familiar neighbourhoods and out to places I never normally run. 

For example, I was out today on a route I haven't run in more than a year and it was spectacular to see the scenery once again. While I went past million dollar houses, yacht and tennis clubs (yes - plural, if you can believe it) there was also opportunity to find private beaches and quiet spaces. I was able to see the city from not-so-familiar vantage points. I saw stand-up paddlers and kayakers push off for their early morning work outs. I ran along the beach front and on gravel paths - not a customary practice on my regular routes. I ran past not one, but two, groups of tai chi practitioners. I even shared a brief moment with a cute, wild bunny rabbit who probably wouldn't have been caught dead closer to the main areas of the city.

And of course, I didn't have my camera! But here are some lovely snaps taken by others who have also found the beauty in this wondrous place I am privileged, happy and thankful to call home.

Today's run: 26 km. Weather: warm and sunny. Feeling: tired but amazing.

Path to Kitsilano Beach.
© Stephen Rees

Point Grey foreshore.
© Susan Smith

View of Vancouver from Jericho Beach.
© Dawn Coyote

Running Round-Up: Not-for-the-Weak Edition

Happy long run Sunday! Here's a round-up of what happened on my runs this week.

Why are so many freak-outs named after animals?
Here's a story. I was out on Thursday morning, about rush hour. I was crossing the street at an intersection and my light had just started flashing when I stepped off the curb to jog across. I was looking for turning vehicles (you're supposed to try and make eye contact for safety's sake, right?). A driver was turning left onto a two-way from a one-way street but he didn't really see me so had to brake abruptly. And then he honked at me.

I will concede that, since my light had indeed started flashing, perhaps I should have waited to cross. But honestly... dude can't wait three seconds for a person to cross the street? I'm sorry, but if you're late and in a hurry or think you can push some pedestrian around because you drive a Beemer and are late for work, that's not my problem. It's still my right of way, after all.

So what did I do? Without hesitation, mid-stride, I swung around - and totally gave him the finger. 

... and with conviction, as well. Clearly, not my most gracious moment. 

And then he honked at me again. Big surprise.

Am I proud? Hmm. Does it make me a bad person if I answer that question with a yes? 

I know, I know. Love thy neighbour, do unto others, yadda yadda. But let me tell you something: this isn't really me. I'm one of those people who, in an argument, is unable to think of the comeback or witty, smart ass retort until days later. I'll fret over not being able to think on my feet and even when I do think of what I could have said, it bothers me that I didn't think of it sooner. 

So for this to have happened? So quickly, and naturally, and without pause? I dunno - but what I can tell you is that I laughed about it the rest of my run. Hell, I'm even smiling just thinking back on it now.

I chalk it up to this: he had a cow, so I gave him the bird. End of story.

Introducing: My Self
Having run three marathons and now training for my fourth, upon looking back I can almost attach themes to each round of training. The first was definitely Motivated by Fear. The second was probably something along the lines of Marathons are Great! Let's Do Another, as I remember feeling so inspired after finishing the first. And the third was Coming Back from Injury.

Up until this week, training had been such a slog. I'd missed a couple of shorter runs toward the end of last week and over the weekend. I knew that if I missed my 13 km run I was going to have real trouble making up the distance but I did not want to go out there. Somehow I did - and my Self battled against me the whole time.

Normally if I'm not feeling very motivated, I can almost "trick" myself into just running anyway. It might be heading out the door at some ungodly hour before my brain realizes what's happening. Or maybe getting dressed to run a shorter distance and then ending up running for longer. Or sometimes it's even just plain old guilt - always a good standby option.

But this version of my Self is interesting. It fought me tooth and nail to turn around, almost goading me to immediately stop what I was doing and go back. Somehow - maybe it was instinct, or who knows what - I kept running. It wasn't until about 11 or 12 km in that my Self finally gave in and said, "Fine. Let's just finish this damn run then. But so help me if you decide to run any further... !"

After finishing that day, I'd thought that having to fight with my Self to get out there on long runs was going to be the norm - the theme for this marathon. But surprisingly, the rest of this week's running has been incredible: fast (for me), fluid and fun. It's been an absolute joy to be out there.

I can only assume that my Self has given in to the inevitability that, yes, this is happening again. Another marathon is coming. Hopefully, it will stay away - but if not, it's nice to know that I'm able to work past it.

Captain's Log, Stardate 6.23.2013
Today's run: 16 km. Weather: overcast and a little muggy, some slight drizzle toward the end. Feeling: pretty great.

There's a lot happening running-wise around town these days, with spring races and so many runners beginning training for fall events. I had the pleasure of indirectly experiencing today's Scotiabank Half Marathon, as I inadvertently ended up on the course for certain sections of my run. I cheered on a few people who were at their 18 km mark and almost three hours in (yowza) before turning off to go my own way. 

Great job!
Props to everyone who finished the Scotiabank and MEC events today, as well as all of the Tough Mudders out in Whistler (you crazy bastards know who you are)!

Number 3 ... Check!

I ran a marathon last weekend! 

Since my injury put me out of the game for most of the spring, I was hesitant to sign up to run a full before the end of August. But in the last few weeks, my leg was feeling really good so I decided to give it a try. 

It wasn't the race I originally intended to run, and it wasn't located in British Columbia, but it was one to complete before the end of the summer and it was a racing experience like no other I've ever had.

© Ben's Smart Marathon by the Sea

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: the Marathon by the Sea. 

A bit of background
Located in Saint John, New Brunswick, organizers describe the race as such: "Canada's first incorporated city plays host to the Ben's Smart Marathon by the Sea event in a festive atmosphere of down home maritime hospitality." Can't argue with the history - and certainly cannot argue with the hospitality. 

Getting to know the locals 
The whole race weekend really presented us with a flavour for the local community. While wandering around the city, my husband and I were warmly welcomed by many residents who talked to us about the big race. One even chatted to us about her aid station volunteer duties ("I'll see you tomorrow!"), and how her family members were helping with the pasta dinner. 

Carb-loading dinners tend to be standard fare at these kinds of events and always take place the night before race day. While we've previously been to ones that have been hosted in big hotels, this one was held by the Boys & Girls Club of Saint John, where runners were served home-cooked portions of spaghetti and meatballs for free; guests had to pay a small charge. A local musician entertained folks while they ate, and race organizers introduced themselves to the different runners. I even had the opportunity to have a conversation with one of the organizers about my injury and how we had traveled from British Columbia ("You came out all this way for the race? That's great!"). All proceeds from the dinner went to the Boys & Girls Club as well.

On race day, I posed with a mascot who looked like a giant piece of bread. Never done that before. And the start gun? Well, I don't know exactly what it's called, but it had been brought in by the military and gave off a really loud BANG.

The Ben's Smart mascot all ready
to pull the trigger. Ready, set ...

GO!

Small event with a lot of heart
Here's a note on scale. There were 58 people registered for the full marathon. Compare this with the 2,619 participants from Victoria in 2009 and the 453 full marathoners who ran Kelowna in 2010 and you start to realize just how small this event really is.

But even though this was an event on a small scale, I was extremely impressed by the level of support on the course and before and after the race. Package pick up was a breeze. There were plenty of aid stations on race day, all manned by enthusiastic and energetic volunteers (the very first one was being manned by the Saint John Fire Department - hello, firefighters). Washroom stations could easily be found along the course. And even though the route was open to regular vehicular traffic, policemen were stationed at each of the route's intersections to direct and stop traffic as runners were passing by. 

The awards ceremony was not limited to just event winners; first, second and third place finishers from each category in each race, as well as exemplary volunteers and aid stations, were recognized as well. How often do you see that? Not to mention all of the door prizes they gave away. I didn't win anything, but it was nice to know I had just as much chance as everyone else in the room!

So for the race itself ...

The forecast was 100% humidity. For reals.

The course was an out and back route. It was incredibly foggy, and I could barely see three feet in front of my face. But the course was well-marked and with a good number of volunteers at key turn-offs to point runners in the right direction. 

My race started out great. I'd paced a little faster than normal, but was feeling good and like I could sustain that pace for the entire duration ... boy, was I wrong. 

I definitely hadn't prepared well enough in terms of my intended finish and how fast I should be running throughout. I blew it all in the first half and ended up having to slog my way through the second. The turnaround point was also further away than I thought it would be, which really challenged me mentally; if I had simply studied the route a little better the day before, this slip could have been avoided completely. It also didn't help that I got passed at the turnaround by a woman I had flew past much earlier in the route. That's what I get for going out too fast.

My pace slowed considerably after that and I started to get discouraged. About three-quarters of the way through, I saw a mile marker sign that went something like this:

"There will be days when you feel like you can't run a marathon. 

But there will be a lifetime of knowing that you have."

And then I started to cry. So I knew at that point, I'd completely lost it. But it did give me a bit of a boost to keep going.

Towards the end, my legs did not want to work anymore. I ended up walking much more than I ever have in a race. And then I got passed again which is always so good for the self-esteem. Thankfully, I got some encouragement from one of the traffic police and volunteers with about three km to go:

Me (walking up a big hill towards the intersection with the policeman and volunteer): "Hi! My legs refuse to run up this hill."

Policeman (laughing): "But you're still moving! That's the important thing. And - you're not last!"

Loved him. And that gave me another little boost. 

Crossing the finish line.
Photo credit: flickr.com/people/mbtsfinishlinephotos

As I neared the finish line, I saw my husband along with plenty of other supporters still there, cheering for the back-of-the-packers. It was then that I heard the shout-out from the announcer who called me a "beautiful lady. Let's give her a hand, folks! She's been on her feet this whole time and she's in town all the way from Vancouver, British Columbia!" 

And then I crossed the finish line and immediately burst into tears. I swear, I hiccuped and ugly-cried for at least five minutes. I was so relieved it was over!

The final wrap-up
Out of 58 full marathoners, I finished 53rd, sixth out of six in the female 30-39 division and came in with a chip time of 5:08:48. It's not my best time, but it's also not my worst. And like I've always said: any finish is a good finish!  

Even though I didn't run a smart race, there was plenty to love about this event: the locals, the volunteers, and it was the first time in any race that I have ever been given a call-out at a finish line. 

And to think ... I seriously considered not attempting this race. 

Thank you, Saint John and the Marathon by the Sea! You have a wonderful event. I'm so glad to have been part of it.

Five by 35. Three down. Two to go.

I Am ...

A runner. 

A person who feels so much better about myself and life in general when I've been running.

Much less likely to freak out about the little things when I keep up with a running schedule. 

Annoyed by inconsiderate ignoramuses who are allowed to frequent my regular running routes. This includes, but is not limited to, oblivious dog walkers, full-of-it cyclists and parents who can't be bothered to parent their own children.

Easily frustrated when I've realized how far I've been set back by an injury or a lapse in my training.

A girl who really needs a specific goal to stay motivated. (Case in point: 2011. No races. No running.)

Incredibly disappointed that I wasn't able to run the race I'd trained for all spring. It still bothers me. There's no sense in denying it.

Aware that I need to move on from not being able to run the race I'd trained for all spring.

Going back to school in the fall and would like to complete a full marathon before then because I really thought I'd have #3 in the bag by now.

Aiming to complete a marathon this summer, as a result. On the horizon: the Marathon by the Sea in Saint John, New Brunswick. Date: August 12, 2012.

Unsure if trying to run a marathon by the end of the summer is realistic, but I'm willing to use it as something to work towards if, for nothing else, to keep me motivated for the next few months.

Confident that, if I am unsure about the performance of my leg in any way, that I would not do anything to risk re-injury or jeopardize my ability to finish Five by 35. I've got plenty of time and really don't need to rush things.

Still working on my biomechanics (gotta love physio!) and realizing that there will always be room to improve when it comes to this. 

Happy to be where I am, despite everything. Each experience in running has taught me something new.

Amazed at how much I've learned about myself, and how much more I have yet to learn, just by running.  

Thankful that I am able to run.

I am ... not really into heels. These are more my speed. 
More on my most recent purchase to come.