I wasn’t going to do a race report. I had decided that during the Calgary Half that it wasn’t worth doing, who reads them anyhow, what difference it would make.
It’s funny what 24hrs can do for a soul.
A perfect day for racing/running/being outside dawned on Sunday. Dawn alright, watched it rise as I was up at 4:00am. Only two things will get me up that early, travelling and a race day. Not even for skiing do I get up that early (I get up at 5:00am for that!).
Lots of things to deal with for this race and I thought I had put them all in line, figured out my nutrition before and during the run distance, prepped everything the night before, got sleep.
Arrived early enough to warm up, focus, and get good race vibes from teammates and other runners. The sun was starting to warm things up; it was all looking like a stellar day from my perspective. One “niggly” but I decided I would be ok, and to remedy that my friend “Emo” was taken to join me in the race.
I found the Pace Bunny I wanted to follow, decided to let someone else “do the math” for me and help me with my pacing as I always go too fast at the start and wreck myself for the finish. First time doing this and albeit I was nervous, I thought all would be good to join the 2 hour continuous run group. I stood in the crowd (which is outside my comfort zone) I hear the Pace Bunny state,” I will aim to be at the 14km mark/turnaround with some put in the bank so we can cruise to the finish”. WTF??!! That is NOT how I train, that is NOT a negative split, yikes! Panic set in and since race day is about problem solving, I decided I could handle this, just keep the bunny in my sights and I would be ok.
All was good until 30 minutes into the race. Right on the dot cramps set in and I knew what I needed. Timing is everything and yes! There they were, “perfectly placed porta potties” with a lineup that meant my goal time was going to be jeopardized. I glanced over and ran to other potties that were more for the return trip. I didn’t care; it was faster than standing in line. Back on the course, re-adjusted my thought process, and was with the mindset I would be ok. Then it happened again approximately 25 mins later, more cramps, F*CK! Now I’m really mad and no porta potties in sight. Have to walk as the side stich I had was painful, walk, breath, and take in fluid nutrition, run, and repeat. Finally the aid station and what else I needed me and all the other runners who were also dealing with the same issue. At least I wasn’t alone. How much time did I lose? At least 5 minutes. Now I have to decide how to finish this race as I knew my goal time was, and pun fully intended, “down the toilet”.
I kept on going but with a saddened spirits. I began to question my reasons for running; the more I ran the more negative I got. I finally get to Memorial where I knew the turnaround was. I saw the group I started with on the other side, I looked away in pain. I didn’t want to continue, I wanted to quit. I was done. A few minutes later I see a TTL jacket, what a beautiful site to see, a beacon of light, of support that propelled me forward. “Toni!” I cried out. She turned and as I ran towards her I began to cry and she let me do that. She is one athlete that fully comprehended what I was going through. She walked with me, encouraged me to keep going, to focus on the blue skies and sun, the great volunteers, the fact that I am out there doing this distance.
She pulled out of me what I needed to use to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Toni Jaques, you are a classy lady who I will be forever grateful to for getting me through the dark side of my brain to focus on finishing.
Those last 7km were completed with walk stops, as I needed. I noticed that when I was running, I would pass people; my pace is good when I am able to run. That helped my battered ego and I counted off the km’s left. I loved going through the East Village. Those folks had me think I was a runner, that I was doing awesome. They had no idea the struggles I was dealing with they just gave support. Kudos to them and all the others that did the same all day I certainly appreciated it!
Finally Olympic Way and the finishers’ shoot and the finishing line! Tara Beattie was right there and she knew by the look on my face that I wasn’t happy. She told me she would be at the same spot and I would meet her there. That didn’t happen as by the time I got my medal (man it is huge), through the people, the food line, I was done with crowds. Met up with Shannon Ouelette who was good enough to hang with me and sit as I re-grouped my spirit. Yeah for teammates!
When I got home I cried on Roger’s shoulder. As I sat in my Epsom salt bath the first thing that came to my mind when I thought about how I felt regarding my race sadly the first word that came to mind was “failure”. My son asked, “What went wrong?” best question ever. Had me thinking about the day.
24 hours later, (it’s funny what 24hrs can do for a soul). I answered the question.
I may have failed in obtaining my goal time but there are many things out of my control and if they happen on race day, what do I need to do to get around them? What went wrong? Given that during the week 4 nights prior I was not well, spent one night pacing in my house because I couldn’t sleep and finally 36 hours later I was able to sleep may have played a factor in my race day issues.
Did I fail to start? No. Did I fail to finish? No. Did I fail in learning about how I can get through a race when in a mental low point? No. Did my teammates fail me? No. Where exactly was there failure? No place.
I am not a professional athlete. I do not need to stress about the times I finish a race because in the big scheme of things, what does it really matter? I attended “Endurance, A Run Woman’s Show” and thought of what she had stated during her performance. I broke into a sweat before most people (save for the 11,000 others on the course and how many vollies, and supporters) were up. Yes, I chased a “pony tail” for some time to get me through. Yes I thought my legs were going to give out. But I did what all runners do, I kept putting one foot in front of another and I finished. That was the most important part.
Recovery was great, sitting in the sun on Tara’s deck enjoying a couple of cold beer followed by a bar-b-qued steak, red wine and other tasty treats. Family and friends are the best motivators to go forward before, during and after the race.
I will do this race again, next time it will be different. Bring on the 2013 Triathlon season!
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