BMO Vancouver Marathon 2012 Race Recap

Really, I wasn’t super excited going into this marathon. Particularly on the heels of NYC last year.  And with a brand new course, even having run chunks of it, I didn’t know what to expect.

Of course, this did not stop me from freaking out in the days leading to the marathon.  Strangely, however, race morning was calm. I slept fairly well the night before, set the alarm for 5:30am, forced some breakfast down, and hopped the bus and train to the start.  I got there in time to see the elite half marathoners start, which was super neat.

Spent 15 minutes waiting for a porta potty (I swear I picked the slowest line). Flashed my bib number (only time in my life I will get to be in the first corral, ha) and the volunteers let me through.  I found Andrea from our clinic, in our corral, who was visibly nervous.  Pargol came running up to Andrea and I in the corral to wish us luck. 

The 3:30 bunny was beside me:  I briefly contemplated going with the pace group, and skipping the walk breaks; but when the pacer informed the group he would be doing 4:43km to make up for the 10:1′s I changed my mind.

There was a rousing rendition of Oh Canada,  and then the start gun went off.  It took me 30ish seconds to cross the start line.  It felt like any other Sunday run.  My garmin read 5:13 for the first km. It takes me a bit to warm up so I wasn’t bent on hitting splits. I hit 4:51 for the second km…and kept on hitting 4:51km or there abouts. I thought I would go with it and see how it felt.

Early on, it wasn’t as hot as I feared, so that was a nice surprise.  Alan was on course, just after the start. Hooray crowd support. I tried to hold myself back, because I knew Camosun was coming.  At the base of Camosun, I heard my name being screamed and saw that it was some former co workers.  Halfway up Camosun, I heard my name being yelled again (later I found out it was Jason).  And then I saw Alan again just after the Camosun hill. Some guys I had been drafting off of turned to me, and asked, do you know all these people yelling your name?

Uh, some of them? 

The going was still good and sweet at this point, I clocked some sub 4:50kms, but I wasn’t too worried.  Running down Spanish Banks, I saw Julie’s bf- Troy and I called out to him.  Those were some fast kms pounding downhill. Pretty sure, that took a toll later on.  The parking lot with all the cones, was a weird loop.  As I made my way around the loop I heard my name” it was Kathryn from the clinic – she ran a great race and clearly had made up some time as she had started in a later wave.

Turning onto Point Grey Road/Cornwall, I saw yet another friend, with her camera. She happens to be a wedding photographer, so her photos are always amazing.. Still feeling pretty decent.

And then, there was Burrard Bridge.  Burrard Bridge was NOT pretty (though I heard Jason yelling and then Andrew). It was like having our own personal fan club out there.  Things got a bit better after the Burrard Bridge (for a bit anyhow). Turning onto Pacific, I saw Andrea with her cowbells. Awesome.  Things were still not too bad heading into Stanley Park, and circling around the pool.

I was definitely starting to get fatigued.  I told myself I couldn’t fall apart before 35km.  At some point along the seawall, I saw Winnie on the bike and heard Andrea (right at the moment had been wedging myself between to guys trying to pass them on the seawall) Whoops. I kept telling myself, just make it to the next bend in the seawall or I would have cried.

At 37 -38 km, I caved and took a bit of a walk break.  I checked the two pace bands I had on, and knew I had some leeway. So I made a deal with myself- walk for x seconds, then start the shuffle.  A volunteer saw me and told me there was an aid station ahead.  Oops, must’ve looked pretty rough, as I assured her I was okay. I thought briefly about bailing, but thought, gee, the finish is closer than the bus stop.

When I saw Mile 25 ahead, I ran towards the sign.  That little hill coming off of Denman was murderous. I was walking but alas Jason was there, yelling.  So I had to run again.  And as I rounded the corner, out of his sight, I started to walk again.  But a fellow runner came running by and was like: You’re almost there! I mouthed thank you and forced myself to run again.  I could hear the screams of the spectators, packing either side of the blue fences screaming, you’re almost there and you have “sub 3:30″ to which I thought I don’t care! One sharp turn, and another, and I could smell the finish line. I guess I did have a bit more left in my legs, as I sprinted towards the finish (or at least it felt like I was sprinting).    I literally came to a dead halt as soon as I crossed the line.  The last 5km was sheer will – and without the crowd support, and some awesome friends  I would have walked way more.

Strangely enough I don’t actually remember seeing the finish clock.  I do however remember looking at the Garmin: 3:26:33 or chip time 3:26:25. I was ecstatic – with the Camosun, hill, the rolling course and the bridge, I didn’t think I would run the time I did.

Taper time…

9 days till the BMO Vancouver Marathon. Being the second marathon in 6 months, and I’m a little less excited/nervous than I thought I would be…

Maybe because  running the NYC marathon exceeded my wildest expectations I’m a little more ambivalent about Vancouver.  Not to sure what to expect as BMO is a new course, and even having run large parts of the new course there’s still a bit of uncertainty.  Aside from race day weather, and other things beyond my control I’m not sure what a “realistic” goal is for this marathon; come race day I will go out and run the race, and enjoy the experience, and to remember why I started running in the first place – not for time, but for the sheer joy. I would just go out and run.

The last time I ran BMO was five years ago, and it was the “old” route then. BMO being my first marathon, I had no huge expectations going in to the race, and ended up ecstatic with the results.

Maybe I will be a little more excited next week, after race package pickup, etc. At the moment, I am ambivalent.  Ttraining is done…wondering if “just a little more training,” would be better…is pointless. At the moment, I am strangely calm. Usually I freak out before races, get so extremely nervous.

Or maybe I will get nervous next week…we’ll see. I do have time goals (realistic and dream) but I’m not obsessing about them.

What will be will be. And I guess I’ll find out in 9 days, what I’m made of.

Gibson's weekend

Reblogged from Krisandnotsodeepthoughts's Blog:

This past weekend, I had the chance to get out of town for the weekend. I was giddy at the prospect of escaping the city even if it was just for a couple of days.

A friend of mine had arranged two cabins in Gibsons for the weekend- and almost all of us planned to run the April Fool’s Half Sunday morning.

Read more… 752 more words

Gibson’s weekend

This past weekend, I had the chance to get out of town for the weekend. I was giddy at the prospect of escaping the city even if it was just for a couple of days.

A friend of mine had arranged two cabins in Gibsons for the weekend- and almost all of us planned to run the April Fool’s Half Sunday morning.

Saturday morning, a group of four of us who would be carpooling, congregated in a gas station parking lot to begin our weekend away. Exciting start. I hadn’t met the driver before, but being friends of friends, I figure we would be safe. I know, talk about riding in cars with boys.

Pargol and I arrived in the gas station moments before a Silver Ford Escape screeched into the lot. Three out of four. Group member number four had yet to arrive. At 9:48am group member number four showed up and apologized for being late. With straight faces, we told him we had been ready to leave without him. As if.

Gibsons was cold and blustery, but the cabins were incredible – think ocean view, hot tub, cabins nestled in the woods. Being the only girls in cabin no. 1, we ended up with the bedroom, queen sized bed, and ocean view, leaving the boys to fight over couches and loft spaces.

Our weekend was filled with board games (which were er, a little more competitive than I expected), exploring the beaches, red wine, hot tubs, and enjoying an ocean view. And oh yeah, the race.

I should mention that the guys in our group could really really run… As in one guy could run 1:15 and ended up in the top 10 overall as well as winning his age group. Another guy told me he was average – He could run 1:31. Gulp.

Wasn’t going to be passing anyone of them any time soon. Ha.

The Race

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. Though a nine am start meant that we didn’t need to leave until 8 am. It was cold, and wet. As we drove to the community centre where the race started, we passed orange cones marking our race route. And the early starters (some of ahem, which looked like they could finish well in advance of three hours).

After multiple bathroom stops, some warm up, and trying to keep warm in the community centre, we headed for the race start. It was an incredibly anticlimatic start. Ha. Most of us didn’t know the race had started, until people started shuffling forward. Oh well. And it was gun time only….

Wasn’t feeling fantastic, wasn’t feeling horrible. Split the first 10km in 45 -46 minutes which worried me a bit as that was the fastest 10km split I had ever run in a half marathon (although for a split second in my delusions of grandeur I figured if I could split a faster second half, I would get a pb. Ha).

I probably should have done a better job of controlling the downhills as in not letting myself running crazy fast, but oh well. The hills weren’t massive, save for one but it was definitely a rolling course, and employing a similar strategy as I did for the First Half wasn’t the brightest.

At 14km came the beginning of the nastiest climb (which I had been warned about), and at 17km I was ready to cry. My splits had crept over 5 min a km – I think I clocked a 5:40km here. Though I have to say secretly, I was glad we had run 10 repeats of Nanton because this hill was not as bad as Nanton.

Mercifully it was mostly downhill from there, even though by this point my legs were so tired – I wondered how I was supposed to finish the race. With one km to go I caught up to one of our group (it was his first half ever and he hadn’t run for four weeks) so really, I wouldn’t consider that an accomplishment in anyway for me .

Just for the 21km marker, I caught up to a 55 plus year old guy, but darn it, could not pass him, and ended up finishing a split second behind him. For the record, I definitely had more in the tank left at this point in the race during the First Half.

I wasn’t thrilled by my time – but April Fools was good ppreparation for Vancouver, and I learned some lessons. (i.e. pacing, pacing pacing). Going a little slower in the first 5 – 10km may have resulted in a better time and considerably less suffering. And no, you can’t bank time…

And yes, I know it is a net downhill course, but I found racing this particular course a little tougher than I expected – I wasn’t prepared for all the ups and downs. Lessons learned. Next time…

First Half Race Recap

I can’t recall the last time I was this nervous about racing a half marathon. Usually it is racing a marathon that freaks me out. But Saturday I was freaking out. Race morning could not come soon enough.

Race morning dawned cool and wet. I had triple checked my gear bag and  planned out my race day outfit. All good to go, or so I thought.

I awoke before 6:30am and had time to make breakfast, check my gear bag again before I headed to the bus. Shortly after boarding the bus, I realized with horror, that I had forgotten my race bib. I rifled through the bag. No bib. I disembarked the bus. And rifled through the bag again. The rain started to pelt. And I started to panic. I have forgotten many things in my life, but a race bib on race morning is NOT one of them.

So, I called a poor family member at the crack of dawn (no doubt awakening them during a deep slumber) and asked them to drive me home. There, flipped over on my bedroom floor was the bib. Mini crisis averted. At this point, all I wanted to do was to make it to the race.

I arrived to the roundhouse with 35 minutes to go before race time (20 minutes of which was spent in the washroom line up?!). Plenty of familiar faces and racers jammed the community centre. I was wearing shorts, and decided that shorts were was a bad idea. So off came the shorts, and on came the tights.

With less than 10 minute to spare I made my way into the throngs of people crowded into the start area. I started to inch my way up, trying to figure out where to seed myself. When I had jammed my way up as far as I could without starting a riot, I settled in. I just wanted to go. All race strategies had gone out the door.

I knew what my goal pace was. I figured as long as I started slow the first few km, I could ease into around goal pace. The gun went off. It took fifteen seconds for me to cross the start line, and people ran like bats out of hell. No way – although I panicked when I looked and saw a 3:56 second km. Way too fast. I managed to reign it in, and the first few kms were above goal pace.

I soon settled into a rhythm, glancing at the garmin just to make sure I wasn’t deviating too much. Made it through five km in about 23min and 10km in about 46 minutes give or take. I hit half way in about 48 minutes and thought I would settle for a sub 1:38 at best.

Soon, I began to see familar faces. Found people to er, draft off of. I was trying to do math the whole way. Heard my name being yelled several times along the course. Crowd support and volunteers were amazing.

All I kept thinking about was the next mile marker. After about 14-15km, I let myself go. At 18-19km I started to feel a little fatigued so I just focussed on catching the person ahead of me, or at the very least keeping them in sight. Some guy behind me was yelling and high fiving all the volunteers. Gee, if he had that much energy, he should be racing harder. Hah.

Then came the nasty, nasty hill from Beach to Pacific. It was “only” 10 meters, but that late into a race, it hurt. I would not have run as hard, if there hadn’t been a guy next to me that I just couldn’t let beat me. We rounded the corner onto Pacific. I tried not to trip on the orange pylons. He pulled ahead. I could smell the finish line. So I picked up the pace to pass the guy. Rounding the corner, I could make out the finish line, but not the clock I sprinted to the finish line.

Official chip time 1:35:12. A PB from last year’s race by 10 minutes (though I was thinking about the 13 seconds that got away). My “pie in the sky” goal for this race was sub 1:35, but I couldn’t be too unhappy as this is relatively early in the racing season and I’ve not done any formal track work since October.

Part of me couldn’t really believe I had done it. Coming into the race, I was skeptical that I could maintain the pace I did for 21km. My training partners and friends seemed to have more faith in me than I did. Pre -race I’d been asked for my goals, so I said sub 1:40. (But secretly I definitely wanted more than sub -1:40). I received “the look” from a certain someone, so I hastily amended my answer to sub 1:35. Not so secret anymore.

Maybe my original”pie in the sky” goal was not so unattainable and I can set my sights higher for the next race. And I need to learn how to set higher reach goals for myself, and even if I come a little shy of them, it’s better then setting the bar too low.

Gotta dream a little if I want to reach my own potential, whatever that may be.

January ramblings

So somehow, in a moment of lucidity (not) I agreed to be a pace group leader for the marathon clinic.  Not that I was planning on running a marathon in May but I figured it would be good training for halfs and shorter distances. So far, I have not gotten the group lost (which is a miracle in itself) and I haven’t had anyone protesting about paces, yet.  Many things are decided by group consensus and we have been pretty flexible so far.  We will see how the weeks unfold.

I don’t have any particular marathon aspirations this year.  My goal is to run Boston next year and run a pb.  My running goals for this year:

1. Actually have fun running! (not that I don’t always, but it’s nice to run with no huge marathon goals for the year)

2.  Run a PB in the First Half (sub 1:40 or better)

3.  Run a 10km pb

4.  Improve on my 5km time.  (I think I ran a PB in the Resolution Run…but since there was no official chip timing, and the course was a little short, it’s kind of hard to tell:p)

5. Run in at least one relay this year.

NYC recap

NYC 2011 was one of the most amazing experiences of my life.

The Expo

Friday morning, we headed to the expo for package pickup.  The expo was incredibly organized (hint hint, BMO??).  We had to show our passports before picking up our packages.  Counters were organized by bib numbers- package pickup literally took less than 10 minutes.   Displays telling racers how to read our bibs. And the expo, was huge – and a runners dream.  If I wasn’t careful, I could spend hours in the expo. Clutching my precious package in hand, I wandered the expo, just soaking it in. I found a pair of hot pink compression sleeves which I was sorely tempted to try for race day, but did not.

Race Morning

I averaged about 4 hours of sleep the night before the race – but I had slept well the previous night, so I wasn’t too fussed. I was up at 3:30am in the morning. I’d been warned of the cold – sitting around in Fort Wadsworth for hours.  So I layered up.  I had so many layers on, I practically rolled out the door.   Shortly before 5 am, clutching my breakfast, gels, etc,  I made my way to the subway two blocks from our upper westside hotel.

En route to the subway, I met a woman, who was a guide for an Achilles athlete.  She told me they expected to be out on the course for about eight hours. Wow.  Now that takes guts.

Our bus was at 5:30am in midtown (NYC Public Library).  I followed the masses off the subway at 42nd street, towards 6th avenue.  Volunteers herded us onto chartered buses- hello comfy coach seats.  As soon as our bus was filled, we left.  Absolutely no loitering or waiting around.

The bus was mostly silent. Well, at least my seatmate was.  But that is the way I preferred it.  I tried to get some shut eye.  I gave up and peered out the window into the darkness,  trying to get a sense of where we were going.  The bus stopped a short distance outside of Fort Wadsworth.  We had to show our bibs and our bags to get through. Again, super painless.

The village was HUGE, but I asked a volunteer which way to the Orange Village.  The lineups for coffee, bagels, etc. were non existent when I arrived as it was not quite 6am.  I snagged the requisite dunkin donuts fleece hat and an all important cup of coffee (An hour later, the coffee lineups were ridiculous).  I staked out my spot, and ate the pb and bagel and banana I had brought with me.

Made some new friends who watched my stuff, as I made the first of many pre race porta potty visits.  When I get nervous..

By the time I had made my way back to my spot, the sun had started to come up.  And then it got chilly.  I wrapped my fleece blanket around me and jammed in the headphones.  I literally don’t remember thinking about the race (except to think about how long we still had to sit around:p).  Shortly before 8 am I dropped my bags off and went off in search of the corrals.

The corrals were within a large fenced in area with their own porta potties.  Each “corral” was literally separated by a rope.  Sitting there, watching people warm up (definitely felt like there was a disproportionate number of males in our coral as opposed to female) I started to get intimidated.  They looked fast. Really fast.  And maybe I had chosen the wrong corral (Corral 16 was the last corral in our section). Maybe I didn’t belong.  I watched a runner in a singlet, shorts, breathe right strip, and bright green socks, doing all sorts of drills up and down the corral.  Other people were watching too – clearly he was providing some entertainment for the corral.  Most people were sitting, stretching, and basically not wasting  a lot of energy. Why bother when you have 26.2 miles to run?:p

About 40 minutes? before the race started, some sort of inaudible announcement was made and our entire wave started to move up.  People (including me) scrambled for one last turn at the porta potties.  Simultaneous announcements were being made that this was the last porta potty for three miles, and other volunteers howled at us to hurry up; they had to let the next wave in.  Stern warnings were also issued about not heeding nature’s call off the Verrazano Narrows bridge, and threatening disqualification for anyone caught. Not that I was planning to…

And then, our last stop, before the Verrazano  Narrows bridge.  Buses (presumably belonging to the elites/sub – elites shielded our view of the bridge. Cops were standing around. People doing last minute drills.  The star spangled banner, and the announcement of the elite men.

And then, we were off, walking onto the Verrazano Narrows bridge….helicopter buzzing overhead…

The Race

I hadn’t run at all the week before the race, deciding to let some niggling issues in my IT heal.  So except, for a light pre race jog, and some strides, I hadn’t run since the previous Sunday. But race day, everything felt pretty good.

My biggest concern at that moment, was trying to figure out where the exact start was (so I could start my garmin).  Crossed the first km in 5:40, and wasn’t too fussed.  Next km (which felt identical to the first) was in 5:06.  I had no finely tuned race strategy.  I thought I would just keep the first 5km above 5 minute km so that I didn’t destroy my race before it started.  I know we started on an incline, but it didn’t feel like it.   I crossed 5km in about 26 minutes. 10km in around 51 minutes.  I wasn’t thrilled but knew that my goals were still within reach.

I was a bit surprised at the pace and that running 4:45kms and 4:50s – felt like I was running at an above 5 min km.  I told myself, that as long as I kept it 4:45km or above, it was fine.

I had wanted to hit the first half in 1:45 or faster.  I hit it in 1:46 give or take.  At this point, I thought that odds were I would run a 3:35 or slower as I anticipated slowing in the last half of the race.

It was so crowded – the entire race. Passing was a pain in the *$#*! but I could only take clipping at  someone else’s heels for so long.  I found stretches of (relatively) open space, and to keep my pacing even (thank you garmin).

While I was focused on splits and trying to run my own race,  amazing things were happening around me.  I ran past a wheelchair athlete during the race and the crowds were going completely nuts cheering the athlete on, while a guide was urging him on.  I was in awe. It sucked running up inclines. Couldn’t imagine trying to do it in a wheelchair.

We hit the Queensborough Bridge, and I was wary, but I still felt good.  And my pacing was even.  I passed the 3:40 pace bunny, and a fleeting thought crossed my mind to run with the 3:40.  Um. No.  And then I passed the 3:30 pace bunny (I know he was in my wave, but having not seen him at the start, had no idea if he was on pace).  I decided to run with the bunny a bit – there was a bit of back and forth but when I glanced down at my watch it read 4:21km, 4:19 km.  No way.  However, I again passed the 3:30 pace bunny and never saw him again (unless he passed me in the later stages of the race – quite possibly because things started to get fuzzy…)

Coming off the Queensborough Bridge (which took forever) First Avenue was CRAZY.  I still felt good, and tried to control my pace (at times the garmin was registering 4:12s, and a couple times, some sub 4s).  I quickly pulled it back.  Way too fast. Yep, the miles along First avenue were way too fast.

After emptying my own handheld, I stopped at every gatorade/water station.  My memory is fuzzy, and I’m not sure I had any gels after the 25km mark. I did drink full cups of gatorade at every station, so that kept me from completely dissolving in the latter stages. I am sure I stepped on spilled gatorade throughout the course; during the latter stages of the race,  it felt as though I was ripping glue off my running shoes with every step.

At mile 20, still felt good (“good” being a relative term). However I swear I saw the 30km sign three times?:p Mile 22 was good.  Mile 23, and the sight of the uphills did not make me happy. I had run straight through until this point, but seeing that climb made me want to cry.  I made a deal with myself.  Run two stop lights, shuffle, and then start again.  I asked myself how badly did I want this? I told myself that I hadn’t come this far, just to give up now.  For the first time in the race, I thought, this is really hard.  I picked off a poor guy who was clearly suffering and made myself run past him, before I let myself walk.

I saw the mile 24 sign. D%^$t. Still two miles to go.   Really, the last three miles felt longer than preceding 23.

The crowds (which had been insane for nearly the entire race) were unbelievable as we entered the park via Columbus circle. If it weren’t for the crowds, I swear I would have walked the last three miles. But I couldn’t walk for too long with what seemed like the whole world watching.

At the 800 meters to go sign, my thought was?!!!  Still 800 freaking meters to go? I am proud(not) to say that I walked for a few steps and then made myself run again. I did get passed numerous times at this point, but I did not care.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, and when I saw the finish banner in sight, I forced myself to run across the finish line (though in the videos, I swear it looks like I am walking across the finish).

Finish time:3:31:51

While I was hoping to sneak in under 3:30, I was thrilled with my race, and I can’t really complain.

I thought I would get all emotional crossing the finish line. I didn’t.  However, walking back to the hotel afterwards, I did get a little er choked up.  I thought about how it had been such long journey from January till NYC. The disappointment of my last marathon.  Training for but not running Vancouver this past May.  And then the opportunity to race NYC. That finally,  it had all come together in a race.  And to run the best race of my life thus far and a BQ in NYC, was the icing on the cake.