A few days before the race, Lil Sis’ called me and asked if I had gone running yet outdoors and it had kind of slipped my mind! When I was training (without the faintest idea of a structured program) for my first half-marathon back in 2004, I nearly didn’t do any outdoor running but did squeeze a couple in and was grateful for them. I’ve been working out in my condo gym at the convenient time of 11 p.m. and I wouldn’t fathom going outdoors at that hour in a neighbourhood still largely unfamiliar to me. I was just a little worried about how I would fare on pavement with fresh air to breathe. Otherwise, I felt like I had trained quite well against the program I had adopted from a Sun Run communication because in addition to running workouts, I would interweave Stairmaster+stepper workouts for my “off days”.

After work on Friday, I wended my way through the PATH to the Sheraton Centre where the packet pick-up and Mini Expo were being held. Mini Expo indeed. There was no fanfare. I rudely declined the one samples booth that was in place–raspberry chews or chocolate energy balls by PowerBar. Couldn’t justify the calories. I also snarked that the new-fangled chip-in-bib better work on race day because I had to pass my chip over the testing mat to get it to read my name. It had been a long and stressful week. For having a better expo: +1 Vancouver. For having just a slightly more expensive 10K but the race t-shirt is a technical one (albeit from RaceMerchandise.com) and there are finisher medals, +1 for Toronto.

Lil Sis’ drove and parked downtown near me and we planned to take the subway from Union Station to Eglinton, midtown. As we entered the station and dropped our tokens in the slot, a scratchy announcement was made over the speaker and Lil Sis’ asked if it was directed at us. Why would it be? And so we head downstairs to the platform while the thought entered my mind that the subway was not running. An impossibility, I thought, at 8 a.m. on a Sunday!! But the platform was deserted and the screens did not show the trains were not running and I lead us, running back up the stairs. Only then did I notice there was an operator in the booth and he spoke to us over the microphone. “The subway is not running until 9 a.m.” I squawked because I’m completely incredulous because it is 8 a.m., not 7 a.m. “But we need to get to Eglinton!!” “Then you better start running!” He laughed. It’s like 6 kilometers away. Seriously, he told us to go a street over to Yonge and pick up the bus which was still the “Night bus”. I was bitter and complaining and anxious the entire way. -1 Toronto TTC for not running; -1 Toronto Yonge Street 10K newsletter for not mentioning it.

The bus actually drove up Avenue most of the way, diverted from its Yonge route because of the race, and we walked from Lawrence and Yonge down to the start line about a kilometer away but you couldn’t see the start line from the stop. It felt very unideal. We went into the Starbucks at Yonge and Craighurst and queued up behind 15 runners to use their bathrooms and left because 9:00, gun time, rolled around and the queue hadn’t budged. We left the queue in the assumption that once you start running, your feeling of needing to pee diminishes. (I wasn’t queuing for myself, didn’t have any liquids except for what made my oats congee.) On our way to the start line, we went into a Second Cup with no queue and Lil Sis was henceforce relieved.

From a distance even we could see the crowds at the start line banner had shrunk and we approached from behind the patrol car that tails the race and noticed that everyone left behind the start line had a “Walker” bib. Okay, we’d run ahead of them when their wave started. But the announced on the megaphone was saying how everyone had to tread in such a way that not both feet left the ground at the same time (i.e., speed walking). Would Lil Sis and I get disqualified, turned around, if we sprinted over the start line?! A volunteer noticed my bewilderment and told us to start running so we did sprint across the mat and Lil Sis implored that we did not go too fast. We were the last runners to cross the start line, or so it seemed to us. Too late, I lost my breath. The horrible combination of sprinting out of the gate, the hardness of asphalt, and fresh and cold air flooding my lungs meant I was gasping for breath for the first four songs (or about 16 minutes). I only started to get my breath again when my music slowed down to Sweetbox’s Everything’s Gonna Be Alright. Lil Sis was ahead of me from 10 m onwards and I kept my chin up and straining looking for her long-sleeved deep orange form and swinging braided ponytail amongst all the orange–this year’s shirt colour!–shirts.

Without a watch or mile markers until I saw the first one at 4K–pastel-coloured banners sponsored by Milestones and featuring a colour image of brunch I really wanted instead–I really didn’t have an idea of my pace. And that was okay as I adjusted my expectations. I wasn’t going to be on the 55-minute mark because I knew I wasn’t fast enough. But I could trust my training and run non-stop for an hour as I had done a few times on the treadmill. And compared to the treadmill where I set a speed and perish by falling off the back if I slack off, I could slow my pace down to catch my breath, for a break, but no stops for the 10K. A test of my endurance.

The terrain between Eglinton and Bloor was gently rolling with great downhill stretches and small uphill climbs. Everything was so quiet on a Sunday morning and it wasn’t even so early. To keep an eye on Lil Sis and just because I can, I ran down the center line of Yonge Street. Starting to see the CN Tower was awesome. Approaching the CIBC and The Bay at Bloor was awesome, back “home”. I kept an eye on approaching the large billboards at Dundas Square, currently a large round billboard poster for the television show, Missing.

Most of the music on my playlist is pretty old but one song I had never heard during a workout was the Ludacris et al number “Shera Di Kaum” from the 2001 movie, Breakaway. The inspiring lyrics are below (with my response):

Yeah we were always told growing up
We have to strive to be the best [Oh, most certainly I  was told that]
Always strive to success and second place is not an option [How about 4,000th place in a race?!]
That’s what we were told
So no matter what came up in my life, I got through it [I have gotten through it!!]
That was my motivation
Now nothing can stop us [Don't stop running!!]
We will never lose, never fear, overcome all and persevere [Persevere! Endurance! Don't be afraid]
Be the best and we down to show it [Be the best you can be]
Any place, anything, we will overthrow it

Approaching the 7 km mark and we were thankfully downtown where the recognizable street names were so much more dense, I realized that I was closing in on Lil Sis and I made sure my pace was even to not got ragged again chasing her to catch up. She was having cramps from the beginning of the race and when she suggested taking a short walk, I took it! After a minute or two, as the Journey song “Don’ Stop Believin’” was ending, we started running “lightly” knowing under 20 minutes remained.

Other than the finish line, the loudest stretch of cheering was on Richmond Street where people held up stock signs with cheeky messages like “Stop reading, start running!”, “Go Random Stranger Go!” and “Your feet will forgive you.”

After allowing us to slow to a walk, running again was mentally difficult and Lil Sis pulled ahead again.

At 9 km, my usual blister on the arch of my right foot popped up again and my hips started to feel stiff. Just as I got to the Three Days Grace “Pain” song. “Pain, I can’t get enough / Pain, I like it rough / ‘Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.” Be we motored on and when we got to Bathurst, the finish line was so close you could smell it. Lil Sis motored ahead but 200 m from the finish line, she stopped. My 56.8-minute playlist wrapped up and I was into the next song as we crossed which meant we finished in 57 minutes something.

At first, NPY was to accompany us up to the start line and then explore the city by way of finding his way down to the finish. He was flummoxed how he would not have time to relax and had to dash via public transportation to the end while we dashed there on foot, and he wouldn’t arrive much earlier. Because in a point-to-point race, the finish line is… 10K away. And so I realized how the route for the Sun Run is pretty convenient such that it was a loop and spectators who see you off at the start have the time to pick up a coffee and stroll over to the end. +1 Vancouver? There are arrangements made because of the P2P race, like driving your gear from the start to finish in yellow school buses which Lil Sis thought was brilliant (and cute), and (for a fee) shuttle buses between the start and finish. The Sporting Life 10K that spawned the new-this-year Yonge Street 10K has the additional great feature of free shuttle buses to Union Station because it’s a tad far from Bathurst to Yonge… and the streetcar line was a mess until May 7 requiring a transfer for that short distance.

I like getting medaled after a race and realize it’s been a while. I spied NPY right away after we crossed and was thrilled he saw another race. We shuffled through the long finishers chute and grabbed some Gatorade. We declined the free cans of Michelob Ultra beer: +1 Toronto!! I wanted what people were holding, bowls of Oasis yogurt or something but we also just wanted to leave the muddy field (+1 Vancouver’s finish line area)–thank goodness on several levels that it was not raining.

The race results were posted by the time we sat down for brunch at The Counter/Thomson Diner and it confirmed that we finished in 57 minutes (57:44 to be exact) but I was more surprised by my ranking and how small the race actually will be. I should have known that as the newer of the two spring 10Ks (politics and such formed a split), it would be smaller, with 5,000 participants compared to 25,000 for the Sporting Life 10K in three weeks. Neither are Sun Run scale that aims for 50,000 registrants each year. I also hadn’t done my “ethics” and as a race run by CRS, the charities will see far less than the Sporting Life 10K charities. I toyed with the idea of watching the Sporting Life race but I actually won’t be in town that weekend.

Back to the results. I’ve had 10K finishes a minute faster or slower than this finish but my ranking amongst females and in my age category has not been so low. It was a more “elite” race, perhaps enriched with serious runners who consider it a practice race for the Good Life Marathon on May 6 (I should go out and watch that one) than I’m pretty sure the Sporting Life will be. So while it was a decent race for me “I don’t do 10Ks any more”, it was a little disappointing as well.

56.8-minute playlist

Kanye West – Stronger (Harder, Better, Faster)
Jay-Z f. Alicia Keys – Empire State of Mind
B.o.B. f. Hayley Williams – Airplanes
Timbaland f. Keri Hilson – The Way I Are
Sweetbox – Everything’s Gonna Be Alright
Addictiv – Tonight
Adele – Rolling In The Deep
Modest Mouse – Float On
Ludacris et al – Shera Di Kaum
The Killers – Mr. Brightside
Journey – Don’t Stop Believin’
Destra Garcia – Celebrate
Melissa Etheridge – I Run For Life
Three Days Grace – Pain
Jay-Z f. Kanye West, Rihanna – Run This Town

**** Race results ********
Gun time 1:09:21.0
Chip time 57:44.0
Place in female+age category 329/499
Place in females 1,772/2,906
Overall palace 3,743/5,186

We have friends who just show up without training and while NPY insists that neither of us are tall like them and while they aren’t lithe gazelle build, we are even less so. They hammer out a 10K with good to fair finish times. So, could we? It’s been over a year since the last race, the 8K.

We’ll put in our all just to be off the course as soon as possible but I’m also counting on some magic:

• a sunny or slightly overcast day; any kind of precipitation is the opposite of magic given NPY is not acclimatized to rainy running and there’s that blasted long drawn out wait at the beginning
• adrenaline, especially from the first event of this scale (of people)
• the timing: it is first thing in the morning, and not at the end of a long workday (or work week)
• carb-loading the night before
• Gu Vanilla Bean gels, overkill but also magic for 10K
• caffeine from Starbucks mocha before the race

So… was it magical?

NPY and me at the Vancouver Sun Run 2011 start line--click image for Flickr photo+notes

Saying we “trained” for 30 minutes just 4 times before the big run is still painting the picture nicely; in our 30 minute runs, we were running just 3.5-4 kilometers. With such disappointing preparation, I was resigned that perhaps it would be a 5K run followed by a 5K walk today! I wasn’t going to let on to NPY exactly which magical elements would be at play–he is wont to disagree. So I just told him to be at my place at 8, quite the accomplishment, and I was really relieved that he was so cheerful even though it was three or more hours before his usual wake-up time. I only woke up at 8 a.m. because I’ve learned over the years the absolutely unnecessary measure of arriving before 9 a.m.

We headed in no great rush shortly before 9 a.m. towards the closest Canada Line station and picked up a Starbucks coffee along the way, for its magical effect. The weather was brilliant, a little chilly in the shade but in the sunlight, it was bearable and only getting warmer. It was cute how NPY was not aware of schedules and worried that we’d miss our wave’s start because he was in the port-a-potty queue. We didn’t and slipped into the end of the Green wave that goes before our White wave. It was only going to be frustrating to wait another 5/10/15 minutes for the White wave to start. So, as the Sun Run usually goes, there’s not a lot of fanfare by the time our wave crosses the start line but at least we had started the light jog.

Because our “training runs” were so sporadic, I hadn’t charted progressive steps to follow so NPY made the executive decision that we would run 7 minute intervals and then we’d walk for one minute. That 7 minutes of running was longer than any interval during “training”.  So I was wildly impressed when we ran longer than seven minutes, 10 minutes, fifteen minutes, and then we finally had to stop for a break at 20:30 to guzzle some water and take that Gu gel I brought. We ended up sharing the yummy Vanilla Bean gel which NPY learned did not taste vile at all. It was clear during our second interval (only about 7 minutes long) that my breathing was ragged and I couldn’t fix it quickly at all. You could say that I barely rested and caught my breath during the first break, retrieving water and gel from my pack and our pace was significantly faster than anything we “trained” at.

We did the first kilometer in 6 minutes and hit 5K around 32 minutes. There was a fire in a West End apartment along the race route which drew several firetrucks to the area: “Someone went for the Sun Run and forgot to turn his stove off,” someone joked. I warned NPY as we approached the Hornby hill that would lead to the uphill section of Burrard Street Bridge but it turned out I was the one who needed warning. I’ve run up that blasted short deadly steep hill so many times during training in past years; sometimes I bomb up that hill but I’ve also tanked and those failures hang over my head and gained another member today–I stopped to walk. I watched with immense pride as NPY’s big head bobbed amongst the crowd going up the hill and worried for a moment when a burly man suddenly clamped his hands on NPY’s shoulders. It turns out there was branches and roots all over the sidewalk and NPY stopped suddenly to not trip over it, startling the man on his heels.

I caught up with NPY at the foot of the Burrard Street Bridge and we did the bridge together, revelling in the long downhill. I wanted to share with him how much I hated the last stretch on 4th/6th Avenue, but what’s the point of making him fret, of sharing my own hang-ups? My mind was screaming for a break and blisters were popping up on my arches as soon as we were beyond the bridge’s downhill and we were one corner and turn away from the 4th/6th Avenue stretch. I waved at NPY to keep going and I took breaks galore starting at the 7km sign. The sun shining from the east beat down on the thousands of Sun Runners on that 9-block stretch and it looks and feels like you aren’t getting anywhere. I thought of it a bit like a cat and mouse game; if I was really competitive, I would want to triumphantly catch up. At some point, I figured the mouse had already exited the maze and I walked a lot during that stretch. I hit the 8K mark around 52 minutes.

NPY and I did not have a contingency plan for if we split up–we have run our other two races together but he was feeling in/explicably energetic so I wouldn’t hold him back. I thought, “I can’t stop on the [Cambie] bridge,” but I did not run up the on-ramp and did not run the entire last kilometer. With about 750meters to go, the end was close enough and a light run would go by faster, was tolerably on my blistered feet and one cramped glute. I crossed the finish line smiling more because NPY finished a 10K in better than my goal time for him!

BC Place is closed for construction to get a hard-top roof so Concord Pacific’s lot on north False Creek was the site of post-race activities. They are so lucky it was a brilliant day. I picked up 250mL cartons of Island Farms chocolate milk–perfect recovery drink–before we head to Cafe Medina with six others and enjoy that well-deserved post-Sun Run brunch experience.

I can’t stop chuckling about how NPY outdid himself. He barely got tired and was amazingly focused under the circumstances. He didn’t want anyone to know he was doing the Sun Run and just needed to do it to know what it’s all about. The first time he “joined” me a vew years ago was very spontaneously–he was not dressed–and jogged lightly for a few blocks before turning off, getting a Tim Hortons coffee, and meeting me at the finish line. He had some pretty high standards of the caliber of fellow 10Kers but he was surrounded by truly average participants and not discouragingly lithe gazelle natural-born runners–thus his competitive spirit emerged and I was counting on that. Although his time beat my time, I’m glad we had a race together and also raced separately. He says, “No more!” to adding distance but he knows the next goal is finishing in under an hour.

Our results (from RaceHeadquarters.com):

Mine–
Age Group: 1,054/2,651
Overall: 16,955
Official Time (rounded): 1:06:36 (Net Time: 1:06:35.8)
Age Graded (higher is better): 44.92%

His–
Age Group: 1,424/2,117
Overall: 16,325/
Official Time (rounded): 1:05:53 (Net Time: 1:05:52.8)
Age Graded: 40.93%

After three years of seeing me run like one possessed, NPY started running for fitness and we did a 5K “fun run” together in October. Not satisfied with not knowing exactly how long it took us, I suggested we do another race… or a longer race. I originally wanted to do the 10K Sun Run with 40,000+ other runners and walkers; a lot of our friends would usually participate in some way, and it’s really fun for that aspect, but I’m not in town that weekend and I found the Harry Rosen Spring Run-Off 8K race instead.

Hunting online for a training schedule specific to an 8K race was a bit of a challenge. Add to that the requirement that we don’t run more than three times a week and I had to improvise a little with the schedule I did find with the knowledge I’ve gained over the years and thousands of miles of training. To make the most of only three training runs a week, I tapped what little I know of “Run Less, Run Faster”, maximizing each of the three runs per week. I’ve posted our ultimate running schedule online: to wit, the more colours, the better because it means we did different kinds of workouts. And NPY plays hockey, I did not play hockey on those nights.

It was a small race, capped at 1,600 participants so it can take place on the Stanley Park Seawall, so we decided to drive and park in one of the park’s lots. The queue to pay the parking machine was ridiculous as a bunch of runners arrived at the same time with 30 minutes before race start. I stood in line to pay and looked around. While designing our training schedule, I had looked up where we would rank if we finished at the time we targeted (52 minutes) and I was disheartened to feel as if we were in a sort of elite race, but not really. I felt middle of the road in terms of body shape and attire, wearing the tech shirt and tights; I could imagine how NPY felt, he who is built more like a hockey player than a gazelle. I tried to keep a level head as the parking machine queue was interminable, hoping that we would still have time to pick up our timing chip, and check my gear, or else I would be running with a small pack on my back! We actually had 10 minutes to spare… good start to what I wanted to be a perfect run for NPY!Although I carry the iPhone running RunKeeper app to keep track of our pace and when to end our intervals, NPY lead the way in the first kilometer, weaving through the crowds to put us in a spot where we could breath (although we could not breath, running faster than I was happy to that soon). We finished the first km in under 6 minutes. The first two kilometers were on the “trails” around Lost Lagoon and I was discouraged by the lack of scenery. Soon enough, by 3KM, we were on the open Seawall, going clockwise towards the race end point.

Just in like our training sessions, we did intervals even though it was only an 8K race. We did one long 12-minute interval in the beginning while our energy level was high and 8 minute intervals thereafter; that is, we walked for one minute after each interval. This was a significant departure from training where we did not get beyond 7-minute intervals. NPY and I do share that in common that the thought of running continuously is not palatable. We also like/tend to use up our energy when we have it! We also like city running over trails; but I do like the Seawall much more than he does.

From the 32-minute (or so) finish at the untimed 5K we did in October, I had extrapolated a 52-minute 8K time using the online running calculators. Thus we needed to run on average 6:28-minute kilometers. Our first 5K were conducted on average at 6:03 each.

It was somewhat difficult to convey to NPY how running three times a week, rarely training at race pace, and slowing yourself down every Sunday for the long run could actually help you run the full distance at race pace. I wasn’t entirely sure it would work for an 8K and was relying a lot on “faith in our training”, our inherent fitness, and race-day adrenaline to make up the rest. He’s the “logical” sort who would like to do the 8K several times in training and have linear increase in speed over the weeks.

As we were rounding about Third Beach, a first aid volunteer told us that just ahead, one of the racers in red was an 82-year-old woman. I saw a woman in read and her hair was not all white and I wanted to see her face but we never overtook her! I did agree when a nearby runner muttered, “That’s inspiration!”

We completed 5K at 31:10 (gun time)–slow for me, better for NPY than in our October fun run. A cyclist dismounted at the 5K mark and was just reading off the time since 10:00:00 a.m. as our 5K split time. Good guy.

I don’t usually play the “Overtake Game” but we were running so slowly by my standard and the Seawall views get boring after a while, it occupied me for the middle stretch. Since we had our walking breaks, we kept falling behind but then passing a larger woman in blue with a Camelpak for her water, a tall Asian man going for a costume prize with a paint spattered-looking t-shirt and checker shorts, a woman wearing a Canada cycling jersey, and another fit-looking woman wearing a blue tech shirt.

We slowed down for the 6th and 7th kilometers, unfortunately, to an average of 6:09 per KM. NPY started to fall behind and we hit 7K, where I had to wait several seconds for him to catch up, at between 43 and 44 minutes. Thus we had to do one more 6:00-kilometer to finish the race in under 50 minutes, two minutes faster than the finish time we originally set out. It was within our grasp!

As the last kilometer became just hundreds of meters until the finish line, we picked up the pace, overtaking for the last time the four people we were chasing all race long. At our steady and faster pace, Costume Asian Guy still overtook me so I sprinted the last 50 meters to cross the line before him… and left NPY in my dust!

NPY’s results —
Gun time: 50:10.7 / Chip time: 49:26.7
Overall: 493/823
Field results: 288/386 amongst men / 43/47 amongst M3034

Throughout our training, because of his uncertainty about the structure of the sessions, NPY was skeptical that we would finish in 52 minutes, our original goal calculated from our 32:00 5K assuming no improvement. We can do the math backwards and forwards (it’s lots of fun), for example, how fast can he do a 10K assuming no improvement, how fast can he do a 5K now? All that matters is that we did even better than a reasonable goal we had set for ourselves.

However, NPY is more than a little discouraged by his standings in the field, particularly being 43/47 of men in the same age range, a far cry from my 23/50 of women the same age. I believe it speaks a lot more of who enrolls in races (more average women, more fast men), the 8K distance is considered a short and fast run, and the event itself. For example, at the 2009 Vancouver Marathon’s 8K, NPY would be faster-sounding 49/70 of Men 30-39.

So, I’m proud of NPY who steadfastly remains not a runner that he is knocking down longer distances as time goes on. (FYI: He agrees to do a 10K eventually but no further!) I’m proud that he rose up to the challenge and routine of an 8-week training program and I’m proud that when race day rolls around, his competitive spirit comes out and pushes him to continue even after he’s given his all.

As is plainly obvious (or is it?), I haven’t been running much since my May marathon nor do I have a race to train for. Wait, I did have one. No, I didn’t really.

Over the summer, NPY and I went for many walks. As a runner, I would disparage this slow-going past-time, casting it as something old people do. But it was a really nice summer and we had to do something since in 2009 we didn’t manage to rollerblade more than once nor organize any substantial hiking expeditions.

I can vaguely remember first telling NPY that I run. In fact, the summer we started dating was also the first summer I trained for a marathon. He didn’t quite understand why I take part so ardently in something that is not a game, that I won’t win. I took him out on one of my easy 6K training runs but it proved far too much for someone who doesn’t run — ever — however much he alleges he is a “natural athlete”.

Slightly mortified that I had so abruptly and successfully turned him off from running forever, I never broached the subject of him running with me again. So I was so surprised and in pleasant disbelief when NPY suggested that this year he would participate in the CIBC Run for the Cure, a 5K run.

5K run, you say? Of course, we only started “training” for it a little less than one month before the run and I am deliberately using quotations marks for the reason that we did not follow any training plan to speak of and–I’m afraid–I couldn’t in any seriousness consider it training for me. When I was empathetic, I would remember that it was the longest regime he has ever submitted himself to… even if we barely made it past week 3 in spirit of Couch to 5K.

I was frustrated because even for a short run, I never wanted to head out and suffered greatly during the first ten minutes of a 26-minute run. Thus I was so grateful that NPY persisted with planned runs (and we were so fortunate that it’s been a dry summer and early fall) and I repeated to him ad nauseum how thankful I am that we made it out for the run. Anything is better than nothing. Until recently, I was very nervous because we didn’t progress to very long running intervals; then I read about Pasta Queen’s most recent 5K wherein she did not run continuously and reveled in her modest results nonetheless. Our second last training run took place on the course and we had good results and we were ready… or had to be!

Race Day

For three years, NPY saw me off to various marathons and races and finally this year, this race was for him! (Except we learned on Friday that it was of the non-serious level that there were no timing chips or race results to speak of.)

Early, but not nearly as early as I have ever had to, we set out from my place to walk to Concord Place–the new outdoor exhibition place for everything possible now–a half-hour walk along which we stopped for Starbucks. Goodness gracious, I did not expect to be imbibing espresso truffle (short, for him) and chai latte (short, for me) before a “race” but there you had it.

We arrived at the start line and there were thousands of people milling around–a far cry from the AIDS walk I did recently–and we beat a path to the Team CIBC tent to pick up our t-shirts. Given it was an rare opportunity to wear the same item of clothing as NPY, I was pleased when Team CIBC gave me a shirt although I registered as an individual. I was also pleased that NPY would succumb and wear the team shirt but it was a well-cut and vibrant t-shirt in CIBC burgandy and I reveled appearing part of the headline sponsor team.*

The race started 3 minutes early according to the time on my iPhone which I carry because we got used to training with the RunKeeper app to guide us on distance and pace. NPY jumped over a fence to get into the chute but I was not going to be caught struggling with the fence during the thickest crowds and camera time! So I weaved through the sardine can of people nonchalantly and casually filing through the fence opening and we cross the start line when the clock already read 4:35. About a minute later, we were able to start jogging.

My estimate is that despite the word “Run” appearing in the name of the event, at most a quarter of the participants were at least jogging and we hit the wall of walkers before even crossing the start line. For the first kilometer, we were weaving like crazy, running on the dusty gravel/grass alongside the sidewalk, and generally running too fast for our own good to get to a spot where we could breath and not be ducking and weaving. Our first running interval was for 10 minutes.

We got to the 2-km marker around 12:41 and NPY was a bit incredulous that we had only gone 2 kilometers. I hoped that 5K is not the distance he stops at! Our second interval was just 5 minutes long before we took a one-minute break and the sun had come out and I was very (very) warm in two layers and a CamelPak sack to hold our belongings. He asked me to slow down and the third interval (five minutes) was pleasant.

We required one-and-a-half more intervals to finish the run so I was impressed that not only did NPY not take the break (except we did stop for 30 seconds) but we truly ran for the last, by my estimate, 300 meters. We crossed the line around 37:42 so NPY’s unofficial time for his first 5K is approximately 32 minutes!

I’m so immensely proud of NPY who came around from not understanding why I/people run to starting to compete with himself and set goals. Over the years, I’ve thought so much more about running and yet he’s already figured out that he also doesn’t really love it but enjoys the feeling of accomplishment. In preparation for this run, NPY got properly fitted for running shoes and acknowledges that the uber-support from his thick Brooks Beast runners kept him healthy and coming back for the next run. And now he’s got to use them for further training, right?? I, for one, did not seriously mess up the delicate balance of training/leading and encouraging and he hasn’t shot me down entirely about doing the Sun Run (10K) next April… or even a timed 5K race before that….

In fact, one day after a good run, we were relaxing at my place and he suddenly mentioned “RVM” with some interest. I was shocked he knew of the race (thanks to a television advertisement) but  the joke is on him: it is a tougher 8K and taking place next weekend! In any case, NPY has come around (after 3 years) and we matched outfits and we started together and finished holding hands. That is what mattered.

* I’ll never forget the teenaged volunteer girl who is younger, taller, and thinner than I am who tried to verify with me that I wanted a small t-shirt. She pointed to her own t-shirt worn very loose and boxy and told me it was a large. She probably wanted people to be comfortable and happy and roomy as she was but it did give me momentary guilt as if she was passing judgment, “Oh no, you can’t wear a small.” I got my small and rocked it. :D

Wayyyyy back in December 15, 2008, faced with an earlier-than-usual early bird deadline, I decided to “get Vancouver Marathon out of the way”. With three marathons down in three consecutive years, I didn’t have to think that I would do one in ’09 and doing one in Vancouver made a host of decisions trivial or no-brainer.

I was challenging myself in several arenas that I had previously hidden myself from. I would have to train in the dead of winter (but fortunately after that December-snowing thing laid off). And “with my schedule” (read: working far away with a grubby commute), I could not commit to the built-in support group from a Running Room clinic. Granted, last year, I was a pace leader but I only made it out to one run of the three weekly, the only one where I was needed provide a pace – and I felt wretched for not being around the other two days to grow and bond with my fellow clinic members, etc.

It was a challenge to make it through training alone for once. And I had the experience to not completely blow it… or did I?

Very soon, I figured out which of my friends were training as if they were going to do the Vancouver Marathon. Most had not, of course, registered as insanely early as some of us did. Some friends were around on Sundays in addition to the clinic if I wanted training at a higher level differently. But I settled into a great Saturday long run routine for the most part. Some friends were doing 16K for maintenance and Murnie and I would concoct wild running plans that included pre-runs and fantasized post-runs.

I was never really alone and I’m so grateful for that.

Murnie moved last year to my area and we finally capitalized on that especially after I no longer had a grubby long commute and could run in the mornings. TJ introduced us to Judy so we could have Gossip on the Run. Not often though.

As usual – do I not try hard enough? – my training was relatively pain-free. Blisters and a throbbing bunion post-run. Achy knees, slightly tight hip flexor (the right one) and calves but I bounced back if noticeably slower than in previous years. It’s age isn’t it?? I really can’t get away without stretching….

And, surprisingly, this year was monumentally fraught with accidents to training buddies. I had “sympathy anemia” because a friend has severe anemia. And after a horrible teeth-meets-pavement and sprained ankle by two training buddies, we were really, really paranoid careful. I twisted my ankle once, suffered from a bout of food poisoning, and fell down my stairs, twisting both ankles and spraining my fingers frantically grabbing at the banister. :D

Bringing us to race day or the days leading up to it.

Murnie and I made it to the expo on a muggy Saturday morning. It was a great pre-race distance and we were pleased to see a whole bunch of eager runners lined up waiting for the expo to open as if it was the event of the season… McDonald’s sponsors the kids’ run so they were around giving out free hot and iced coffee. Inside, I was reasonably pleased with the amount of free samples. I also learned about new races and got persuaded by the 2009 re-branding.

I ate properly but was slightly horrified to find that I was heavier on race day than any past marathon – a few pounds more than last October’s race but it weighed down on me literally and on my conscience. It was difficult to convince myself to get out of my own comfortable bed at 5:30… so I didn’t until 6 a.m. I thought it was great how I could walk to the start line (about 3 km) while it may not have been a great idea, adding 3 km to my journey of (tens of) thousands steps. :S I’m not particularly accustomed to a warm-up before I run.

So as to not end up writing a novel about just 5 hours of my life, I’ll split off into the list part of my recap for the events just before, during, and after the marathon….
* From the starting area, I looked up to see the half-marathoners running in force on the viaduct above. Their start time was 30 minutes before ours. That perspective was really neat.
* It was very nice to mill around in the open air when in previous years I would be hiding out in BC Place until the last possible moment and the corridors through which you exit are like a dehumanizing concrete maze. On the the other hand, if it had been a rainy morning, all of us huddling in the tents set on a parking lot would have been misrable.
* While milling around outside, it was nice to be photographed by official race photographers. I wonder if my shamrock green hat was literally attractive. However, they are using the same marathon photographer as they’ve used before who provide exceptionally poor-quality photo previews. :(
* With about 3,000 full-marathoners, it felt like a big race. (I’ve been to two that were smaller!) And somehow I saw Bev anyhow and we started out together; however, I was doing 10-minute running intervals while she had a different plan and we split up after ten minutes.
* That’s when I started my music and found out one of my earphones was dead. Besides the volume drop in podcasts, the music was consequently very loud and only piped into one ear.
* Edit: I saw two dead birds within the first twenty minutes. None of my most recent long runs have been complete without seeing bird corpse.
* There was a 4:15 pace bunny that I kept in my sights but I generally thought he was going a touch fast. I had my own 4:15 paceband to go by anyhow.
* We ran through an area known as False Creek South which I consider my neighbourhood. It’s not overly pretty because you can’t actually see the water and I characterize it as dusty-feeling exacerbated by the Cambie Street construction and Olympic Village construction. Yech. But at least this tiresome loop was in the beginning of the race.
* At 5K, I was on track.
* Just a quarter of the way into the full loop, a person near me encouragingly tells her friend that we turn around “just up there” but I did not need to study the route map to know what street (by name) we turn at and it’s “just up there” – the beauty of running in your own city on the old stomping grounds.
* It was at this early point when we see the lead men and women and wheelchair and then not again for the rest of the race.
* After we turned around on this first loop, we started to see the 8K runners who had a loop race course. The fast 8Kers were weaving through the leisurely-looking 4-hour finishers and I don’t know if any of the 8Kers were annoyed by the human traffic and who was actually on the wrong side of the pylon barriers.
* I hit 8K at 49:03. Just a minute off track.
* 10K and still just a minute off track.
* By 10K, I was aggravated by my right glut and thigh which were really, really hurting me. That never happens. I felt like I had a cramp in the entire region and I think I compensated and ended up with a slightly cramped left thigh. The pain came and went in waves and for the next 15K my walk intervals were no joy because it actually hurt more to walk than run. But I couldn’t change things up and plow through the race without stopping. I had not trained that way.
* After the dreadful loop, we made it to east Vancouver. Oh why do we have to experience the seedy side of town that is slightly eerie in the morning? This year, the police had to restrain a transient woman from joining us. And we ran through a cloud of pot smoke.
* At 19K, I was 3 minutes behind.
* Very soon after, I saw the “Half Way” sign and rejoiced that the 19K sign was wrong because I was only 1 minute behind. Then I realized, I had read the half-marathon’s half-way sign (blue on white instead of white on blue) and I was still 3 minutes behind.
* My split time was 2:10, three minutes behind on a 4:15 finish.
* Generally, I don’t relish running in Stanley Park unless it is a swelteringly hot or generally uncomfortable day. Inside the park with some tree cover, the air seems more moist and fresh and with an impressive number of people running ahead (and behind), it was a random beautiful moment.
* As we ran towards heritage Burrard Bridge, I was dreading sooooo much running a long loop through Kitsilano and Point Grey.
* If we did not turn onto the bridge and lopped off the loop, it would most definitely not be a marathon effort nevermind not the marathon distance. So onward to Kitsilano to make it a marathon. It was de-motivating to see people coming back across the bridge in the opposite direction – some calculation told me that they were going to finish the marathon in under 3 hours and so necessarily about 10K ahead!
* I know why there is a long loop – Kits people are runner-friendly and you can shore up moderately impressive crowds if you design an out-and-back course to have lots of runner treading the same street.
* The fanfare going onto the bridge was the best on the race course, I think. Second to that is the whole Kitsilano and Point Grey stretch.
* Edit: Our first names (or whatever you chose) is printed on our race bibs so people can personally cheer for you. I feel as if I heard less personalized cheers than someone named “Susan”. One guy hesitated and then resolutely cheered, “Way to go… Wine!” Ugh! But thanks. :D
* At 29K, I was 7 minutes behind. Bye-bye 4:15 finish. Bye-bye 4:20 finish!
* From the Running Room I train out of, we run the Point Grey stretch of the loop very often and I’m tired of it. I can name all of the streets backwards and forwards and tell you how many more wide east-west streets until we reached Highbury, the turnaround point.
* Along the longest loop in history, I hugged the center line for selfish and “friendly” reasons. It maximized the ability for people to see me who were ahead of me and coming back in the opposite direction. Likewise, if I saw someone before they saw me, I would be able to shout out words of encouragement!
* The last part of the longest loop was particularly demoralizing: we leave the main loop for 4th Avenue and when you look ahead, there’s this static-looking sea of people that you see clearly ahead because it’s just steady incline to the turnaround point.
* So when I did finally reach the loop turnaround, I barely feel as if having turned around was really worth it.
* Edit: During the 19th interval, I had my Big Bad Stitch for the race that routinely comes with exertion that my body is denying. But I chugged through that interval. Skipped taking a 5th gel – I was taking them every 4 intervals – for the 20th interval and maybe that was a really big mistake. I would be running for another 45 minutes to an hour. In fact, I had run out of my own Gu gels and picked up 2 Power Gels at Power Gel stations but feared that I would be sidelined by vomiting foreign(-to-me) gel. Decisions, decisions!
* I was mildly happier to be back in Kits with more fanfare. A nice first aid person near Kits Beach stepped onto the road because my face was distorted in pain and asked me required questions. Since I wasn’t imminently going to fall over (as long as nothing drastically changed, like someone accidentally bumped into me), I told him I would be able to finish. No need to get all dramatic and require ambulance service to take me off the course.
* I’ve had a cramp before (in Okanagan) but I never had such dull leg pain during a marathon. It just became all about small victories, getting to the next milestone. From Kits, get to the bridge. At the bridge, get over it no matter how slowly. At the end of the bridge, it’s truly, finally the home stretch.
* Fortunately, the last part of the route is quite downhill and flat and who knew that with a kilometer to go, I could finally kick out of feeling sorry for myself in some kind of slow race form.
* Also, with just a few kilometers to go, I could finally estimate my finish time and I was dangerously close to 4:30!
* I crossed the finish line looking deceptively strong. Pain was screwing up my face but unlike Portland, I didn’t wobble and require the aid of a “catcher”.

I set a bunch of goals in my head – I can’t help it. To start off, I knew there was no way in heck I was breaking last year’s 4:11-something. Last year’s training wasn’t flawless by far but something felt even more off about this year.
*“A” Goal – Make 4:15 – requires a lot of push
*“B” Goal – Not worse then 4:25, my worse so far
*“C” Goal – Not worse than 4:30, after which the next “interval” is a 5:00 finish!
*“D” Goal – Complete all my intervals – I did this one!!

And then here are all the stats (raceheadquarters.com)….
Overall Rank 1993 / 3031
4:32:42 gun time / 4:31:06 chip time
741/1306 Females
129/209 Females 30-34
1:00:50 10K
2:10:29 first half
2:20:38 second half – huge positive split
3:23:31 20-mile mark
1:07:36 last 10K

Final Recap Notes
* I did three marathons in the Pacific Northwest before I got around to doing my local marathon. I dreaded the idea of training in snow and treacherous ice in January – it wasn’t so bad – and I dreaded running through the city that I train in. I’m glad to have the experience and was quite confirmed that I don’t enjoy running where I’ve trained. If they change the route drastically I would consider the Vancouver Marathon again; however, I can guess at why they changed the route to loop and loop around the densely populated, yuppy areas from the old route through less savoury and more staid North Vancouver the east-side.
* I’m so happy to have “gotten the marathon out of the way”. This will be my first in 3 summers that I have “off” from marathon training. It will be interesting to see how much running I end up doing just for the fun of it (or for maintenance) and what I do with the spare time….
* Now I’ve been on the “wrong side of 4:15″ at three out of 4 marathons. It makes me think…. From 2006 to 2008, I averaged 6 races per year including the one marathon a year – that is in accordance with conventional wisdom that shorter races are practice for the race. I chattered and joked about training myself into No Man’s Land in the past two training cycles and while I was miraculously faster last year, I was a self-fulfilling prophecy this year. I can rectify this next time around for Marathon 2010.
* In Marathon 1, TJ and Murnie dragged me along to the 10K and 21K marks, respectively. In Marathons 2 and 3, TLT stuck around until 25K and 16, respectively before zooming off. Apparently I need even more fortitude to run alone… or make a pact next time with someone!
* Edit: MY, the little sister, really thinks that listening to podcasts, while entertaining, was distracting and slowed me down, oh, about three minutes! I’m inclined to agree there was some effect in straining to listen to audio that was low-pitched and only through one earphone!

Aside from months of training, the results of your marathon start from days before the marathon. So, to start, let me tell you a bit about the days/week leading up to Marathon #3.

It had been difficult week. I was stressed out about planning a trip for not just me and NPY but extending the plans to two of his friends. The friends are easy-going guys so I was putting undue stress on myself. In general, I felt stretched too thin by training, work… and other stuff… that was culminating for several weeks by the time we took off for Portland.

After work on Friday, we had picked up the rental car and head out of the city/province/country. NPY might credit our smooth border crossing with our dinner-time departure but I think people were saving their States-side shopping for the long weekend coming up this weekend! I slept quite soundly in the car before and after our pit-stop at McDonald’s and woke up at 1 a.m. in Portland. We proceeded to not be able to get to our hotel for another hour despite being just one kilometer away and I was artificially giddy from having arrived that I didn’t sleep until 3 a.m. That is not advisable.

Throughout Saturday, I was on edge. Could it really be that my marathon was less than 24 hours away? How should I be feeling? I went for a short run on the treadmill in the hotel’s fitness room and felt like a runner. When we were walking around downtown and I was tired, I did not feel like a runner. We went to the expo to pick up my race package and amidst the hundreds of runners – some similar to myself, some not so much – I guess I’m a runner. We went to the mall and I got increasingly tired – this is not advisable pre-marathon – and I did not feel like a runner. For pasta dinner, I picked an Italian restaurant downtown and it was positively hopping with tables and parties of runners and I felt like a runner again.

Finally, padding around the hotel room(s) doing the dozen of little things to prepare for the race (putting on the timing chip tag, pinning on my deliberately crumpled bib, laying out my clothes, uploading music to my MP3 player, setting several alarm clocks, coordinating with NPY and his friends for the beginning part of the day that centers around me, and sleeping at 10 p.m.), I felt like a runner.

On race morning, I woke up at 5:08 a.m. I was a little reluctant but knew that the 7 hours of sleep would have to tide me through. As per “tradition”, NPY accompanied me to the start line and he was not a happy camper. The Portland Marathon has a early start time of 7 a.m. compared to the other years when I have started at 8 or later. You could say that worrying about his displeasure distracted me from my own uneasiness.

With nearly 8,000 participants in the marathon alone, the race started in waves and I started in the second wave, about 5 minutes after 7 a.m. I was anxious that NPY wouldn’t see me because I marked off my estimated times on the course map +/- 5 minutes. The looping around downtown for the first 5 miles looks aggravating on paper but enables the runners to run through a great amount of fanfare and I saw NPY two or three times before we took off to less accessible parts of the city. I’m proud of him for navigating the city with the map and being at the spots at the right time! :D

Within the first mile, I saw a marching band with flag bearers performing tricks. I thought of my sister who loves marching bands and choked up and nearly cried. I thought I would sob for several minutes. What a way to start a 4-hour race, huh? But soon I was distracted. Like by the Lulu Lemon sign that read, “Do something today that scares you.”

My running buddy, TLT, was late arriving to our pre-race meeting point and it’s just as well. I was able to conduct my first mile as intended, at a conservative pace of 9:24/mile or some such. Usually, I get swept up by everyone’s adrenaline, including my own, I can go as fast as 7:15/mile and burn out.

TLT caught up with me after Mile 1. From Mile 2 to 16, we went from being 2 minutes ahead of the 4:15 (finishing time) group to being 6 minutes ahead. It was wild. I kept glancing at my watch and seeing between 5:27 and 5:37/kilometer when my original goal pace, for a 4:15 finish, was 5:45-5:47/kilometer.

This year, I heard of the 10-10-10 Principle: The first 10 miles is considered your warm-up, the next ten miles is where you push the envelope, and the last 10 kilometers is touted as when the marathon begins.

After 10 miles, I still felt refreshed. Perhaps my knees were feeling worked and thereby softening. And immediately after we crossed the Mile 10 marker, the next 10 felt difficult. :P

As warned, a large part of the marathon route was “industrial” but I learned that it was a far cry from the dusty industrial and farmland scenery of last year’s marathon in Kelowna. The industrial areas were rather nice for they were not clear-cut and devoid of trees. For example, along the train track stretch, the other side of the road was densely packed with dewy trees. When we ran around the rounded cliff overlooking an industrial park, it had a breathtaking for view of the river and we ran on a street line with houses that daily enjoyed the view.

When we approached St. John’s Bridge around Mile 16, TLT took off up the hill and I never saw her afterwards. It represented a mental crossroads for me: Last year, I completely fell apart once I was alone (after TLT peeled off around 25K). I made it my goal to keep the “lead” I had on the 4:15 group and watched my lead stay at 5 minutes until Mile 23 when it narrowed to 4 minutes. Amongst all my other goals, I wanted to be able to e-mail an interviewer and tell him that I had attained a personal best on my marathon!

During the first 10 miles, a thought would float to me: “Really? I don’t feel like a runner and this morning, I wake up and do 26 miles out of the blue?” At times during the run, it felt ludicrous because I feel as if my fitness leaves after two days of not running. (I know it’s not true.) Fortunately, by 30K into the race, it didn’t seem so ridiculous because I was going to finish, and finish strong, perhaps.

In the middle of the Miles 18-20, I was bargaining with myself, considering possible strategies for the last 10 kilometers, what to do when I finally got there. If I conducted the last 10K at 5:45/kilometer, it was an “easy” 10K and I can do it. I told myself that seeing 5:52 on my watch was essentially the same as 5:47. In fact, I start ten-minute intervals of running at 5:55/kilometer and eventually speed up to 5:45/kilometer.

At 32K, and still at 38K, I felt alarmingly strong. I wasn’t quite strong enough to go faster (I think) but I didn’t feel the usual pains of running for 3 hours, like smooshy ankles, pain in the knee, or weird kinking of my neck. I barely blistered on my feet, much thanks to pre-emptively taping my feet. Suppose I was in such good shape because I had saved it all for the race? Could it be that I was fueling well?

Initially, I was taking a yummy Gu gel every 5 intervals (54 minutes) but I took my last Gu gel (super-fueling ROCTANE Gu) at the 19th interval instead of waiting for the 20th and not having the kick until the race ended.

Could it be – I narrowly missed having to stop for a train. The warning bells were ringing and the barrier was lowering, yet I ran through it. I did not look back but heard the train chugging and screeching on the track, presumably cutting off the runners behind me.

It’s not to say that I was pain-free but it was rather amazing. I tweaked my knee a little during a walking break at 30K – me and my stupid hyperextending knees. My hip and right glut twinged around Mile 24. Then I experienced my running-too-fast/breathing-too-little cramp at Mile 25. I was grimacing and fancied myself having to double over and use a catcher at the finish line, if indeed I could run towards the end. I thought I would have to walk. The last mile was extraordinarily painful because of a lousy cramp.

As I was rounding the last corner, I saw JZ on a platform above the other supporters and knew NPY was close-by and saw him as I finished. And then as soon as I stopped running everything in my legs started to hurt. Wandering through the chute was an ordeal – it felt like it was another mile long.

I was done. I knew I had achieved a personal best and kept my “lead” on the 4:15 group by 4 minutes. I was blissful… except for the niggling thought that I didn’t hurt enough during most of the race.

Looking back, were it not for TLT, I would not have pushed and gained 5 minutes on the 4:15 pace group. You see, finishing in 4:15 was my A goal once I assessed my summer of training. My B goal was to simply beat my best time so far (4:20) if only by 1 second. The C goal was to not take extra breaks than scheduled one-minute walking breaks every 10 minutes.

There was great crowd support in Portland, the best I have encountered so far and it is tremendously important. Where there was no vehicle access between Miles 10 and 16, we were still a dense group of runners. There were, afterall, nearly 8,000 runners while there were less than 2,000 in Victoria (2 years ago). After the solitude stretch where there was no vehicle access, we crossed St. John’s Bridge and encountered huge crowds. With 10K to go, a man just a foot away from me was concerned and told me to release the tension in my shoulders and back. It saved me and I would recall what he said several more times with a smile before the finish.

What really saved me was my MP3 player. Inevitably, I spent more time concentrating and enjoying music than on each step, each mile, each split time.

Finally, I want to acknowledge all the support I had such that even though I knew just one other person in the race, I did not feel alone. NPY was uncertain because I was uncertain, but he supported me anyhow. His friends, Ran and JZ, were physically in Portland and curious about the whole event. My running buddies, TJ and CM made a point of wishing us well, and people were inordinately congratulatory after the fact. :D

In conclusion, … huh. Perhaps I was/have been overextended, but why does the marathon just feel like a blip on the landscape that is my life? Did I not try hard enough on the race course? How much differently will I feel if/when my next marathon is a steady improvement and takes less than 4 hours? Am I bored with vanilla marathons – especially the small ones – and my next challenges have to stir things up? The 30K Quebec City race preceded by the 12K Staircase Challenge in ’09? The DisneyWorld Goofy Challenge (half-marathon followed by a marathon within 2 days) in 2010? So, in conclusion, it was 98% satisfactory result for the summer of effort. It’s the 2% that keeps me coming back, methinks.

All the stats… and then some.
Chip time 4:11:21
2,634 out of 7,488 Overall
820 out of 3,901 Women
168 out of 608 F30-34
Age/Grade: 53.90% place 2748 (What does this mean?)

Split times
10K 58:43
8.9 mi: 1:23:36 (14.24K)
20K 1:57 — UNOFFICIAL
Half: 2:03:49 (21.1K)
17.5 mi: 2:45:29
30K 2:56 — UNOFFICIAL
20 mi: 3:09:55 (32K)
21.1 mi: 3:20:58 (33.76K)
40K 3:56 — UNOFFICIAL

Once a year, I dress up in my black-and-blue MPG running skort, select a current-looking and pretty top, slap on sunscreen, and run just under 3K to Oakridge Mall where I pick up my race package at The Bay.

You see, Oakridge Mall is a shi-shi mall by Vancouver standards housing Coach, Michael Kors, and Birks amongst the common ranks of The Gap and Garage Clothing. I had to look less runner-dowdy while strolling through the mall killing two birds with one stone with some shopping!

The swag bag is part of the charm of the race with its random assortment of goodies. It’s like the loot bags of birthday parties passed. This year’s bag included the following:
* Single Wagon Wheel
* 3 2-packs of Stay-Put hair elastics
* 2 pieces Ice Breakers Ice Cubes gum
* 1 piece Extra Pomegranate Berry gum
* 2 packettes Off! insect repellent towelettes
* 83-mL bottle of Aveeno sunscreen with SPF60 – Aveeno! – SPF 60!
* A pedometer
* 2 packs of those flossing apparati
* A 3M adhesive hook
* 355-mL bottle Minute Maide Anti-Ox drink
* A 3M bubble envelope
* Chocolate Cherry Nutribar (meal replacement)

In the past two years, the race has fallen on the weekend. I found myself picking up my t-shirt on Saturday and missing my 16K Sunday run for the 10K race. This year, with the July 1 holiday falling on a Tuesday, I was able to wear my brand new shirt to the Sunday Run Club. Attention whore that I am, I happily fielded the questions from astute seasoned runners wondering which race it’s from!

The thing I like about 10K is that I can remember ALL my kilometer markers’ times. Like this.

1K There was no 1K marker.
2K 11:10
3K 16:__
5K 28:02
6K 33:__
7K 39:__
8K 45:__
9K 51:__
10K 56:49

Otherwise, here are all the other observations about the day. I’m just dumping it all here because this recap is already relatively late.

* I wasn’t exactly “feeling it” the night before. This kind of anxiety makes makes me even more anxious. Why do I now feel perennially unprepared?
* The night before, I stuffed the timing chip anklet in my Mizunos. My Asics have been giving me wicked problems – blisters within an hour – in the past two hot runs so I shelved them for my semi-retired Mizunos.
* Woke up at 5:45. Out of the house at 6:50.
* I loved the two pockets available to me with my new race shirt and my running skirt. All I had was a watch, bus pass, some ID, and some cash.
* Yes, it’s that kind of intimate race over a short distance that you would love to wear a running skirt to!
* The bus dropped me off downtown and I walked towards Coal Harbour, homonymous with my hometown, Cole Harbour, and my favourite Vancouver downtown neighbourhood. I enjoyed the holiday phenomenon when no one’s awake yet and downtown is all yours.
* I was quite self-conscious that I don’t know people at this particular race. I don’t know why people who would do the Sun Run might not entertain the HBC run with all the perks they have.
* Still alone, I self-consciously applied the last of a bottle of sunscreen. Did you know that a full-sized bottle is only supposed to last you five applications?
* Then, like clockwork, I saw Joe. He’s the only person I know who seemingly religiously does this race year after year. So we chat until 8:00 a.m. rolled by.
* For, you see, the race started late. No national anthem, just observing people starting to cross the start line after 8:06 a.m.
* I tried to be very conscientious about my pace in the first kilometer. There were built-in obstacles like the woman running with the dog, the man I could not pass because he was taking a picture while running, and fear instilled when one woman tripped and fell over before we entered the park.
* Thoughts during the first 4K stretch: Sometimes I hate running around the Stanley Park Seawall. The path is winding and you can see all those runners ahead of you and how many more twists and turns still lay ahead.
* Positive thinking: You’ll be right where you see those runners soon enough. Just keep running just keep running…. Isn’t this just a great workout??
* I know, I grasp for the lowest hanging bough and my main goal of the morning was to do a non-stop 10K run at tempo speed (5:40 per kilometer). I’ve had only dishearteningly fragmented 10K races in 2007.
* At only 8:30, it was uncomfortably warm on the picturesque Seawall. I was relishing shady stretches, anticipating shady stretches.
* When we finally turned into the park, there is a gradual hill and I saw Bev. We agree that just a year before, I saw her at the same point in the race.
* Though I hardly knew anyone there I recognized people I only see at that particular race: one of the ruddy organizers, the hunched over 70+ woman who beat me last year (or at least was more steady).
* I simply had to pass the 70+ woman and stay ahead of her. And I egged myself to stay ahead of Joe and Bev, too. Otherwise, I’m not usually into those kind of competitive games.
* Around 6K, I wanted to throw up. I don’t vomit easily so I gagged. It was kind of pathetic.
* 7K was tough as expected, 70% into the race. As we entered Lost Lagoon, we saw people sauntering by in the opposite direction in their home stretch.
* Fortunately, the 1-km path around Lost Lagoon is somewhat wooded and you can’t clearly see all around the lagoon at the people ahead
* Our footfall did not disturb the sleep of the swans (geese) who craned their necks backwards and rested their heads on their feathery bodies.
* I just wanted to make it out of 7K!!
* I was very happy to hit 8K, home stretch, and be leaving the “rat race” running in a circle around the lagoon.
* A short stretch of running opposite the 1:15 finishers was exhilerating.
* I’m so preoccupied with this race form and attaining it after feeling sluggish as soon as I start running. It was a paradigm shift at 8K to enjoy any non-painful movement that had carried me 8K and 2 more for a round 10K before most of the city awoke.
* Hit 9K at 51 minutes and had decent hopes of finishing sub-57 minutes. Yay! I kept chugging and my watch that had been unreliable for most of the race, encouraged me by reading a 5:22 then 5:16 kilometer. But 3 minutes passed and it felt like 6 and I nearly lost it at the end. This race has many turns upon turns at the end and I keep expecting the finish line to pop up around the corner.
* I was smiling and proud of myself when I finished!
* Soon after, Bev and Joe came through the finish line and we swaggered about the grounds with our shiny Canadian Mint medals resembling ancient Chinese coins. Bev was looking out for Canada Day chocolate cake that didn’t materialize while we were still there. We danced and Bev sang along to a cover of I Will Survive. I was beyond pleased to be get all of the following refreshement: Dasani water, a can of Vitao iced white tea, Glaceau Vitamin Water, and pink strawberry-lemonade Powerade! Oh, and I enjoyed the rosemary and olive oil bagel crisps that aren’t usually offered at races! :D

All my stats —
Gun time 57:49 / Chip time 56:49
Overall standings 298/838
Gender category standings 76/443
Age category standings 23/115 F30-39
(Not worse than then I was the oldest in my field last year where I was 21/96.)

If everything seems to tumble out, please take it as reflective of how emotional the half quarter day turned out to be.

* Training aside, the half-marathon preparations begins on the Friday before: package pick-up and a good night’s sleep. I slept 9 hours Friday-Saturday and felt accomplished. Oh, but it made sleeping only 4-5 hours Saturday-Sunday more bearable!

* My Sunday breakfast of champions – I really am a creature of habit: Just Right cereal + All-Bran, Activia yogurt, some Fruit & Co. Green Tea & Blackcurrent
* This year, I was very prepared after last year’s rain-dump: double-bagged my change of clothes, water-proofed my phone and new camera in separate zip-lock baggies.
* I made my own paceband. At first it was on the brim of my hat – some people are known to paste affirmations or photographs there – but my focal point turns out to be beyond my hat brim. So I slapped it on my arm and learned that brownish packing tape is a suitable descriptor for my skin colour!
* Standing on a grassy slope I watching runners enter the chute as 7 a.m. neared, feeling that there were more people than last year… or we’re more scrunched up at our new start line.
* That’s where Chui saw me and we could vent those last-minute jitters before the gun goes off – or we’re herded forward – and after that it’s all about running!

* The first kilometer is uphill and I did it in 5:25. That was too damn fast, as usual. I was breathing audibly.
* The part I grumble about is the ~4K out-and-back portion along SW Marine because either the out or the back (the back) portion is uphill. It was bearable afterall because when you’re going out and see those faster than you, you are bombing down the hill and when you’re heading back up, you can scope out those slower than you are. :D
* One of my main goals today was to be true to my official walking breaks: 10 minutes walking followed by 1 minute of walking and repeat. I was successful at it last year and I needed to continue the tradition.
* Once, I took a walking break courteously off to the side at the bottom of the hill and did a willowy woman with frizzy hair have to remark that I was wasting the potential energy we had on the downhill? What if I had knee problems?
* I goofed on my paceband – or did I? – by writing down the time I should hit mile markers when the course only had kilometer markers. I also took down my desired 5K, 10K, 15K, and 20K times.
* My 5K was slower than my desired time of 28:12 by ~10 seconds. Negligible?
* The legs weren’t really working with me in the first two 10-minute intervals. Usually they wake up in that time if it was important, like a race. So, while I might normally take a gel – yummy berry-flavour Gu – at 45 minutes, I took it 10 minutes earlier. It’s senseless to stick to some timetable when I felt so crummy. Then give it 15 minutes for the gel to kick in.
* After the out-and-back stretch, we were in the boring UBC flat-ish stretch and I wanted some music. I sang the chorus for Avril Lavigne’s “Girlfriend” (English version) in my mind and abandoned it after the chorus – I don’t know the verse.
* A blister popped up on my arch at 45 minutes. I shrunk away from the thought of looking at it afterwards – it was worse than I imagined – and delighted how the summer of training will toughen up my delicate feet.
* Observed that in UBC, it was mostly flat followed by slightly downhills. Then it was the big downhill on NW Marine between 8-10K. I took it faster than I did last year. It was then when TJ, TLT, and CM overtook me. I’m guessing they started later than my section of the herd.
* My 10K time was under my desired of 57:02 by less than a minute. Good except I’m a notorious positive-splitter (where my second half is slower than my first half).
* During last year’s race, to keep myself going, I convinced myself that everything after the start of the massive downhill had a downhill grade, except the bridge, of course. This year, I realized that it was just mostly flat. And boring. Murray was surprised that I would attached “boring” to running but that’s the best word I can think of. I want to zone out and go on auto-pilot – that happened just once for about 10 seconds – but I’m keenly aware of pounding along at a decent and painful pace and we’re on this unforgivingly straight and dull stretch.
* I had written on my paceband “What’s bloggable?” because I’ve regretted at past races succumbing to boredom when I could have thought about what I would blog more. Like that there was a woman named Femina (pretty but kind of redundant), fake-smiling at the official photographers until I’ve passed behind them, noting that I saw J.Lowe hiding behind a personal camera and thanking him for coming out and calling out to me, noting how congested I was and my nose bubbled while nose-breathing while taking a gel (yeah, ew), reveling in the difference in weather from 2007 to this year’s race
* I was “lucky” that my walking breaks fell near the crest of some of the harder hills – hey, so long as I was honest about my breaks, I can waste my potential energy for all I cared. I just had to complete 10-minute intervals. SVHM is the race where I don’t crack mentally, darnit.
* I’ve been re-reading Zen Miracles: Finding Peace in an Insane World. And I’ve had recent comments that I overthink (I do) and forget the simplest and worthwhile things in life. I didn’t feel very zen battling with myself and bargaining but it was kind of primal drama instead of silly external drama. It was zen to enjoy the sound of paper cups being dropped to asphalt with a soft clack sound – the sounds of running.
* At 15K, I knew I was a minute off from my desired 1:25:15 and was disheartened. But it’s not like I could slow down and blow 2 hours by even more. Maybe I could make up the time. It’s all downhill after the bridge, right?
* Oh. The bridge. With my convenient memory, I “remember” Burrard Bridge at 18K as “not bad”. We often run across it during our training sessions – it’s our beloved antiquated, short, pedestrian- and bike-friendly bridge. But today I would observe how long it took to get officially onto the bridge and it was a longer climb than I liked to remember. To not swing my arms sideways, I cycled them – not a recommendation, by the way. And I carefully observed my steps to make it to the top at an even pace, not backing off from the pace either. It was an accomplishment to make it!
* I passed the 19K marker at 1-hour-50. I knew I hadn’t made up the time and I could not possibly run 2.1K in 10 minutes. Maybe not even 11 minutes.
* At some points in the race, my mind wandered from the constant exertion to even more de-motivating panicking that I would keel over from undue stress on my heart. Races are always so painful and I always feel like I could train more and harder. That’s when I saw the man who was lying down on the grass with medics around him and a racer offering his services as a cardiologist. I hope the racer is recoveringly nicely now!
* 2.1K is a long way for me to race. I only really perk up and get that last kick of adrenaline when I see the finish line. My watch signaled that it was time for a break and I knew that was the break at 2 hours and I missed one of my goals. Last year, not knowing how close I was to the finish, I took the break at the same point and saw Chui who urged me to start up again. This year, I ran through the break and the finish line never seemed to come. It’s at those times you just want it to pop up as you round a corner.
* I chugged and chugged along, unprettily I’m sure, and my last race picture is sure to be quite maniacal-looking as I was far from smiling and my eyes were fixed on the digital clock that counted every passing second since the gun went off.
* After crossing the timing mats, I bent over – head still above the heart – to catch my breath and probably wobbled a little and a catcher (volunteer who provides physical support at the finish line) slipped my arm around her shoulders and stayed with me until my knees were more stable.

* My watch read 1:30 into my next run interval and I forgot to account for the 1-minute walking I did not do. To wit, wishful thinking had me convinced that I had achieved a personal best (PB) by 45 seconds and broken out of my 2-hour-2-minute slump into the 2-hour-1-minute times. But I would be wrong and my final time was 2:02:27. It’s still 7 seconds slower than my best half-marathon time four years ago (when I was solidly in my 20s!!) and a negligible 10 seconds faster than last year.
* It’s bittersweet. =(
* My next race is very soon: it’s in 9 days and it’s quite different in that it’s a small 10K run. So we’ll just have to psych out about that one now….

My race stats —
Gun time 2:03:24 / Chip time 2:02:27
1,610/3,578 overall
652/2,062 women
111/370 women 30-34

I PB’ed (achieved a personal best). 26:35 or a 5:19-kilometer. ‘Nuff said?

Of course not.

Before every race, I assess myself the night before asking myself, “How do I feel in light of having a race tomorrow?” Disturbingly, I didn’t feel very anxious on Saturday evening. Perhaps it was knowing that the start of the race was close to my house so getting there was no ordeal such that I did not have to wake up exceptionally early. I had no one to meet or be accountable to in the morning.

From my house, it was a 17-minute 2.5-ish kilometer warm-up and light jog to ScienceWorld, the race start. The province’s biggest 5K race was about to take place but I couldn’t sense it while in the quiet Mount Pleasant neighbourhood.

Actually, I was suppressing some apprehension. Some competitive people feel more drained after a 5K sprint than a fast but steadier 10K. From just one experience, I don’t tend to feel exhausted except during the race. I “hold back” (or some other debilitation) when it counts. The weekend was also going very badly where I had two spectaculr bang-up accidents to myself — the most recent one involved crashing into a concrete wall while rollerblading and scraping myself up. If bad things come in threes — good grief! — would there be a third mishap during the race?!

Upon first entering the grounds, my first observation was that there were a lot of Asian people! When I went deeper onto the event grounds, there proved to be the usual mix of ethnicities (with more Chinese people represented, I swear). I thought it would be one of those races where I wouldn’t know anyone amongst a few hundred runners but, as a testiment to running and socializing in this city, I saw super-marathoner Trish, Kaz, and Pat whom I’ve been re-introduced to several times.

At 8:30, half an hour before the race start, a really exuberant fitness instructor from Fitness World lead an aerobics-style warm-up. I was feeling good to have warmed up with my 2.5K run and used the group atmosphere to stretch my problem areas.

We milled around close to the start line and I watched 9 o’clock roll around without fanfare. Then, suddenly, we heard a loud canon boom and like scared mice we instinctively ran away from the sound!

At 3 minutes 45 seconds into the race, I checked my watch that told me my pace was an unsustainable 4:48-kilometer. Within the first kilometer, I threw up just slightly in my mouth. :S Darn little springy kids passing me en masse and making me feel like an old slug. However, I can’t complain of insensitive and slow walkers blocking the way of runners. Not where I started out.

There were no kilometer markers. I had to rely on my mostly-trustworthy Garmin watch. In any case, 5K is too short a distance to rely on my slow-to-update watch and the resulting distance reading – it was merely a rough guide.

So from 4:48 I tried to pace down to 5:04 and then 5:15. Even that sounded stupidly fast despite knowing my last 5K result of 27:20 was thus a too-slow 5:28-kilometer.

At both the very beginning of the run and during the sweltering end, we ran through the same “industrial” stretch: the course ran through the future Olympic Village currently undergoing massive construction and it was dusty. To make it worse, it was sunny and a very clear and warm day (low 20s).

I learned that running on a course very familiar from training is a double-edged sword: it gives me great pride that the race is on my stomping grounds; but I know every crack, nook, and cranny of most of the course. Mostly, I think it was an advantage.

Then it was all done in such a time that I hardly believe the course was 5K for all the mental breakdowns I managed to have within 26 minutes!

Too bad I didn’t think it was a very good non-stop 5K for me. The numbers encourage me for it’s a 9 second/kilometer improvement from my admittedly subpar 57:20 5K 2 months ago. I’m not doing another 5K for a while, mostly for it interfering with my marathon training. Maybe next Science Fair run – it depends on the molecule. ;)

Did I have too much juice left in the tank? After the race, I ran a slow 5.7K to get to the running store. Because I wanted to see my friends after their super long run (19.2K)!

Here’s something else if you have managed to read this far. I think this will be a good summer. I’m feeling healthy and I’ve learned that I can stay healthy as long as I am continually active in a responsible manner. The summer looks fantastic so far. A PB in a 5K is a good way to start things off. I’m looking to set about three more PBs this year. (Wish me luck.)

My motivation? Alas, it was not thinking of what TJ’s sarcastic comment would be should I slack off. It was purely external motivation: B. told me that A. told him that she (A.) runs 5 times a week. I took extra hard and long looks at A. and snarked to myself, “Oh really. ‘Cuz I’ll show you, B., what a 5 times a week runner body looks like. Just you watch.” Just you all watch. :D

Somehow I get sucked back into the organized chaos that is the Sun Run each and every year that I’ve lived in Vancouver. Each year, I get what I want out of it so I keep going back. :)

The very special part of this year’s run came about because the sister, MY, arrived in town the day before the race and was amenable to running 10K out of the blue with her big sister. :)

As per usual, sleep the night before was broken and dream-ridden. I was wired from her arrival, our chatter, and excitement over the gifts she bore. I woked up at 6:33a.m. and wondered why I felt refreshed – it was an illusion – and wanted to tiptoe to the window to see if weather forecasts would be fulfilled and it would snow.

With my sister along, I had downgraded the race to a Fun Run, I felt some pre-race jitters. Would my body cooperate with me? Would we finish before the clock rolled over to an hour? (I did not relay any expectations to MY.) Although it was not imperative, would we make it downtown before the gun went off at 9a.m.? Several not-quite-full buses did not stop where we were waiting but we made it with a few minutes before the gun went off and twenty minutes before our wave started to run.

I think my camera is dying so my own successful picture is of our shoes. :S

We’ve had some unseasonable weather recently that included freezing rain and lightening on Friday and a dump of snow early Saturday morning. I was out for a 12K run Saturday morning and there was barely a hint of the snowfall. Race day was chilly (1^oC) but it was warm within the crowds. Our quintet (of shoes) split up quickly after we started running except for MY and me sticking together.

So. What does one do during a fun run? Take water at nearly every water station. Walk part of the uphill portion of the bridges. (We did run up nasty Hornby hill.) Observe and appreciate the scenery with more time alongside it.

Otherwise, the kilometer markers seemed to fly by – that’s how fun it was. I checked my watch every time we passed a marker and did a rough calculation. Usually I would be preoccupied with my instantaneous pace but we were getting along just as well as we could. I felt healthy throughout the race knowing that our pace was modestly good and we were getting a workout.

The best part was crossing the finish line – at 64 minutes – holding hands raised victoriously above our heads. I’m rubbing my hands together in anticipation for the race photos! :D

Race statistics and breakdown —–
Chip time 1:04:32
17,306 of 44,160 finishers
6,643 of 24,866 women
986 of 2,843 women 30-34

First KM: 5:41 Fast!
1 mile: 9:46
Second KM: 12:04? Made up for fast start.
4 KM: 25-something
5 KM: 31:55
8 KM: 52:00 There was absolutely no way I could make under 1 hour at this point.