Tag Archives: race report

Off down the distance

Yesterday was The Yonge St. 10K, the first of what is now two 10Ks running down the central artery of the city. The 10Ks are popular because they are fast – a net downhill (a couple of small uphills) with only a few turns. I wanted to test my 10K fitness on a certified course, but not necessarily on an aided course that would * my time and generate a PB that I would never be able to replicate, thus setting myself up for future disappoint. I have a tendency to over think races. I ran, but only because I won a free entry at another race.

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I cross the ocean for a heart of gold

Well, that went better than expected. Way better than expected. By that I mean Around the Bay 30K, edition 118. This was my 5th time running the race, so I knew what to expect. Except I wasn’t expecting a humidex reading (it is March, where’s the windchill?), or the plague (again!), or another tendonitis flare-up (back on prescription strength anti-inflammatories) … so I also wasn’t expecting a great run. Which I said, publicly.

I wasn’t sandbagging. Really. Really!

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You’re gonna bring yourself down

I kicked off my spring running season last weekend with a 5K run to a pub. Chili and beer at the finish line. Not a bad enticement for my first* 5K race.

*I suppose that’s not entirely true; I have paid to run the distance three times before, one with friends in a Santa costume, one the day before the Boston Marathon as a leg-loosener and one of those obstacle course mud runs. But I’ve never raced the distance.  Also true, I was a little intimidated to race the distance. I do not fancy myself to be a fast twitch short distance runner.

So I did what I always do. Continue reading

Racing with the wind

I secretly ran the Charleston Marathon last weekend. I said I wasn’t running a race until spring. This was not a last-minute decision. It was a 12 weeks before decision. I lied to everyone*. Continue reading

In the clearing stands a boxer

I ran my last race of the year yesterday. The Boxing Day 10-miler. It helpfully started at noon, giving a few extra hours for the turkey coma and hangover to subside. This was my first time running the race and I went into it blankly.  I knew two things: it’s an old race (this was the 91st year) and it attracts great local runners. I heard rumours it was a challenging course. I didn’t look at the route or elevation, heck ten minutes before the start I had to ask the location of the start line. Continue reading

My head is like a football, I think I’m gonna die

A week ago I ran another beer mile.  I’ve finally sobered up enough to write about it. Continue reading

This is a throwdown, a showdown, hell no I can’t slow down

I don’t usually have a race nemesis (or any kind of nemesis; I’m just not that interesting).  I’m not fast enough to care about other people.  I run against myself and the clock, okay and the odd costumed or shirtless runner, but not usually against targeted individuals.  But in my last race I had not one, but two race nemesises. Continue reading

Someday I’ll be 18 goin on 55

Another 5 Peaks trail race under my shoes. This time in Terra Cotta.

Naturally I fancied myself a Terracotta Warrior and channeled that energy into my race.

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You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

Ahh, the famed Boston Marathon. This is not a super fantastic I’m awesome and I PRed in Boston yay tailwind and sunny skies post. This is an I failed miserably and didn’t run my A, B, or C goal post. I came in somewhere between Z and DNF. And I’m feeling tremendously sorry for myself. Continue reading

Don’t let your feet get cold in the winter

In an effort to coax my reluctant body into running faster than a snail’s pace I signed up for a couple of pre-Boston race-runs.  This weekend was the Chilly 1/2 marathon.   Although it was not so much chilly as it was snowy and slushy (and windy).  The 35-40km/hr winds were not as bothersome as expected, just a little tough on the few short northbound portions.  It could have been much worse.  ATB, coming up in three weeks, is always much worse.

Now that I’m in Monster Month 21.1k isn’t enough mileage, so I also ran an easy 10k before the race, ran the 1/2, then finished with a 3k cool-down.  A little choppy, but I got in the distance.  The aim was to run the 21.1k at marathon race pace or a bit faster and Mission Accomplished.  The road this year was a slushy foot-soaking mess (near record rainfall followed by an overnight blast of snow), so I think my miles are worth an extra 10% in effort. 

This popular event is worthy of a few words.  It’s the only local (local = within 90 minutes) 1/2 marathon in the early spring, but given the location (the ‘burbs) I’ve never run this race.  I would definitely go back to run it again.   It wasn’t the stereotypical suburbs of identical houses and expensive sounding street names, but a quaint waterfront village.   The organizers are lovely (the same group puts on the Santa Shuffle – you may recall my one and only foray into costumed running) and have a reputation for well-run races.  The start line corrals were a bit broad (e.g. 1.30 to 2.00 hours) but for the most part people did an okay job of self-sorting and there were lots of pace bunnies around for folks looking for company (including this guy).  I wasn’t blockaded before kilometre three, as is the case when there is rampant over-optimisim in the starting corrals.  The aid stations were reliably spaced every 3K and the volunteers eager and at the ready.  They even had a gel station and an orange/banana station, which is rare for this distance.  The course is scenic, running almost entirely along the shores of Lake Ontario, and traffic free.  It’s also relatively flat, which I know is appealing to some.  There were some slight elevation changes to relieve the repetitive stress of flat running.  So all in all, a decent event/course and well worth the drive out of the city.  My one recommendation is same day kit pick-up for out-of-towners … it is a long drive to get the kit and then return the next day to run.  If it helps my cause, same day pick-up would be better for the environment and not just my lazy ways.

My own run was uneventful.  It usually is.  I ran like a metronome, without varying from my pace even when briefly chatting with friends on the course.  I’ve never been one for k by k breakdowns, mostly because I forget things almost as they are happening.   A few notable exceptions: I kept my record intact and finished ahead of the costumed runner (a red hot chilly pepper, of course), I narrowly missed a direct hit by a giant spit ball (the man apologized multiple times as his phlegm grazed my eyelashes), I felt sorry for one poor lady who never learned the ‘do not wear yoga pants in soggy weather because they will grow to three times their length’ lesson and by 2K she was already struggling to keep her pants up, a hyper-competitive woman with no control over her flailing arms and legs raced passed me then slowed three times -tripped me once- before falling behind never to be seen again around the 10K mark, and I sped ate a powdered doughnut at the finish line before my cooldown and ran the next 3K with bright white lips. 

Title: the Eagles – Desperado.  1973.

Lets just see what the morning brings

I think husband should go with the Marathon Moustache.  It sure worked for Reid Coolsaet, who now boasts the fastest time ever run by a Canadian on Canadian soil.  He ran six seconds under the Athletics Canada Olympic Standard (2.11.23).  It was a record breaking day.  In the same race Kenya’s Kenneth Mungara and Sharon Cherop ran the fastest men’s and women’s marathons ever on Canadian soil.  I watched.  And ran next to all of them for a brief moment as they passed by me during my long run.  I think it’s fair for my memoirs to say I ran with them. 

Reid’s play-by-play race report is rather cool, so rather than say much more I’m going to send you to his blog:  Reid’s Race Report.   For his next trick, besting the all-time Canadian Marathon record set by Jerome Drayton in 1975 (2.10.08)?  It’s just a matter of time.  Ha.  I love puns.

Speaking of broken records, last year on this day a record of people visited this blog – a record that still stands.  What were they reading about?  The worst race of my life, run on this same record setting course.  Company loves misery?

Title Reference:   Tragically Hip – Wheat Kings.  1992.

Set my eyes on a blistering sight of a vicar in tutu

I said I would do it and I did it.  Wearing a tutu, wings, and carrying a wand.  The entire 30K.  I didn’t toss my costume at an unsuspecting volunteer 3K in as I had imagined.  And I did it with almost perfect pacing.  The race was great.  Even in the stifling 100% humidity that was our Midsummer Evening.  I’m so glad I was pacing and not racing.  I gulped about 18 cups of water and various colours of Gatorade at every station and still felt dehydrated.  I am endlessly impressed by the resolve of everyone who all-out raced in that weather.  As evidence that my body will never ever adapt to hot and/or humid weather running, I ran at a take it easy pace and still threw up twice later that evening.  And then I pitifully crawled out of the bathroom leaving Husband to flush the regurgitated remains of my post-race apple, beer, and banana.  That after nearly fainting on the bus ride back to the parking lot.  And complaining the entire car ride home.  I am a gem of a wife.  All this due to heat illness.  Or water poisoning.  The google symptoms are surprisingly similar.  I may also have a brain tumour. 

Back to fairy-ing.  I told my band of merry runners we would come in within a minute under the goal time.  Well, half the pack took off at 29K for a sprint finish, as my expert pacing left them with lots of fuel in the tank at the end.   A good fairy, I resisted the finish line surge and held steady, coming in 30 seconds under the goal time.  Dave was within 10 seconds of his Pace Fairy time, but he is a very experienced bunny fairy.  This was my first time in the ears wings.  I passed the pace bunny test.  Earned my golden carrot (or, in this case, my fairy wand).  Not that I have any evidence of this achievement.  Except the sworn testimony of my followers.  My chip timer did not work and my Garmin attempted suicide during the post race flood, taking my entire run history down with it.  The truth is out there.

p.s. For those who run for the t-shirt, the swag was excellent – a zippy jacket, moon medal, and a Planet Forward stainess steel water bottle waiting at the end. 

Title: The Smiths – Vicar in a Tutu.  1986.

Your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fireproof

Ahh, the August civic holiday long weekend.  Seems like so long ago.  Sun, sand, great lakes and the always smoking hot 58th running of the Shore to Shore Road Race.  I don’t need to remind my faithful readers that I do not like warm weather running.  And by “do not like” I mean “passionately hate and want to hibernate with my running shoes until September”.  But this is a nice race.  Only $25, the earnings go to family literacy programs, and for a small race the aid stations are numerous and bus shuttle service  impressive (I don’t use it, but I’m impressed they have one) and a generous post-race fruit feast … so even though a few years ago I vowed ‘never again will I pay money to run in August’, how could I resist? 

The race runs from the shores of Lake Huron across the peninsula to the shores of Georgian Bay, a scenic 13Kish route across escarpment territory.  As the more clever among you have deduced, that’s why it’s called the Shore to Shore.  Escarpment, noun, a steep slope or long cliff that results from erosion or faulting and separates two relatively level areas of differing elevations.  So the route is a little up and down with a final downhill quadbuster in the last half kilometre.  With little shade we were lucky to run under overcast skies, although the oppressive humidity ensured there was enough torture to toughen us up.  Although the race attracts a solid field, it is collegial and supportive in that 200 personsized race kind of way.  To wit, as I passed a very nice woman from the Saugeen Track & Field Club gave me a hearty well done and offered me some of the Gatorade her on the course support crew provided.  So nice.

Husband and I ran this as leg one of a 27K long run, so we didn’t race (and I couldn’t anyway, at 95% humidity) as we needed to save our energy for 14K on the Bruce Trail that we never really found.   Instead we finished our run on lonesome country roads beside mountainous piles of bear poop and an invasion of flying insects and I had a complete run-down, but that’s a story for another day.  Or a story to repress.

Title Reference: The Drifters – Under the Boardwalk.  1964.

I’m lost in a forest

Once again I hit the dirt – not literally, this time – for another trail race.  This one was just under 12K and I finished with no blood or tears, but there was a little sweat.  On the technical scale this was much easier than my last trail race, perhaps because I didn’t try for a full flip at 9K.  

The race director sends us the most amusing updates, like this pre-race description of terrain:

In the second km you will enter the forest.  This km is a hilly, rooty, Godforsaken little patch of nature … you’re going to love it.  If you take it too aggressively or lose your focus, you WILL go to the ground.  Tripping hazards everywhere.  Brush up on your four letters words.  You may need them.

In trail running I found a key weakness in my fitness.  The inability (or reluctance) to run down hills at a pace faster than glacial.  I am endlessly concerned about tripping, a not unfounded fear as I was nearly taken out by an out-of-control downhill runner who hit a root on his downward spiral sprint.  I heard his panicked four-letter words and thumping from behind and I narrowly escaped getting caught in his rolling snowball as I leapt to the side.  He apologized and gasped out an I’m okay, so all was forgiven.  This is why I crawl down hills.

The location was lovely, although the new park facilities did not stand up to the test of a few hundred runners with nervous bladders and much flushing.  The course was a double loop, which I rather liked.  On a bad day I would find it tough to run past that finish banner for another go around, but on a normal day I like the finish line cheering and it helps me to know what to expect in the second half.  I tend to run solid negative splits on these types of course, and this was no exception with an almost three-minute win on lap two.  With the sport runners finishing after one lap, the second lap was rather quiet and I often found myself alone in the woods.  Except for the poor guy I passed in the final two kilometre who said he was “bonking bigtime”.  Hee, bigtime.  I hadn’t heard that one in a while.  I crossed the line in style, bought a celebratory hat, and went to brunch with my friends.  There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.  Although I am secretly disappointed I don’t have a story about a run-in with a giant hogweed.  Not a fatal run-in, but an amusing near-miss anecdote.  Alas, no near death experiences for me for you.  

And yes, I’ve already signed up for the final race of the series in October. 

p.s. A special shout-out to KLJ from toronotworkout.com (check our her race report) on finishing her first trail race and to two of my buddies who won group awards. 

Update: Turns out I won an age group award as well.  I knew I liked trial running!  Or maybe I just like medals.

Title Reference: The Cure: A Forest.  1980.  Title credit to Dave.

When I’m up I can’t get down

As you may recall, I recently  “trained” (and by trained I mean went on the first real trail run of my adult life) for an upcoming trail race.  A week ago I ran that race.   This report will be short because I could only type with one hand, the other one being too swollen, bruised and stiff to click keyboards.  I had hoped to finish top ten among women but narrowly missed my goal, which isn’t too bad given that around 9K my foot lodged beneath a root, sending me straight to my knees and a belly flop into the dirt, and then somehow, and I’m still not sure how, into a somersault over my right shoulder.  It was magnificent.  I call it my stop, drop, and roll.  My friend hilariously said his would be a drop, roll, and stop.   The wind was knocked out of me and I never really regained my momentum.  But I still loved every minute of it and I wear my swollen and bruised knees, shoulder, and wrist with pride.  And a whopping dose of Advil. 

The race was superbly organized (the next day the organizer emailed apologizing for a couple of small glitches that all only a few runners would have noticed and indicated that the problems would all be rectified for the next race – I didn’t notice any issues, but I think the email was first-class), the vibe collegial, I loved the branded hot-cold packs given with the race kit, the route markers were numerous and easy to follow, and the course marshals cheerful and helpful.  The post-race prizes were plentiful, alas, I failed to win any of them.  All in all an A+ event.  This explains why the races are all sell-outs.  We started in waves, which reduced the crowds but I’m still not used to running with a pack on technical terrain.  Also, I’m not used to running on technical terrain.  I surprised myself with my patience, although a few others could handle a dose or two, and if the leader of the pack decided to walk on single track I went Zen and embraced the break.  I’m not risking my fall marathon to bushwhack a few places higher.  Even with the rush of a race the runners looked out for each other and if an expletive was heard it was immediately followed by a round of “are you okays?” and a quiet pause awaiting the answer.  

Of the races in the series this one is billed as the most technical, which I like.  The challenge of the tricky sections works well with my personality.  I fair well with the fancy footwork although I’m a little too skittish on the downhills.  Surprisingly, my gymnastics move happened during one of the open (read: easy) sections of the course, which is good because I had a soft non-cuncussion landing.  I guess I got complacent for a moment.  I won’t make that mistake again.  Constant Vigilance!  My day after run was hilarious in that I moved, as Husband put it, like a robot.  I haven’t moved like a robot after a race in a long time.  Would I run this series again?  In a heartbeat …. I’m already registered for the August race.

Title Reference: Great Big Sea – When I’m Up (I Can’t Get Down). 1997.