Vancouver's "First Half" Half-Marathon

At the 8-mile mark of the race, I was feeling good. Even pace, legs strong. Then this short stocky guy burned past me like he was in a 100 meter sprint. And he just kept going!

I knew he'd burn out eventually, but I decided I'd chase him. Let him get a bit ahead and then go after him...

Sunday was the "First Half" Half-Marathon, so named as it's the first official Half-Marathon of the year in Vancouver. The morning started icy cold, at least by Vancouver standards. It was -3C so i decided to wear a thin long sleeved shirt. I usually hate running races in long sleeves or tights cuz it gets so damn hot. But this morning was damn cold. Nevertheless, I stuck to my shorts. Of course, the cold weather also gave me a great excuse to break out my brand new Boston Marathon jacket. I'd ordered it a few weeks back fearing they'd be sold out when I arrived. It came just last week and I haven't had many opportunities to wear it. Of course, a race event is the perfect place...as I could see from the number of jackets worn from previous Boston Marathons.

I arrived late for the race and had to scramble to fit in a short warm-up. Then off to the start. After a terrible rendition of the Canadian national anthem (at least it was heartfelt), the horn went and we took off.

I was aiming for something under 1:30. My PB in half marathons was 1:39 but I knew that wasn't a true indicator of my abilities. I'd run this course last year but wasn't at all ready for the race. I was tired, undertrained and a little sick. This year, I'm in the midst of my Boston training. So I felt I'd do well. In the back of my head, I'd decided on 1:25 as my goal. The logic being if i can hit 1:25, then I'd likely have a sub 3-hour marathon within grasp.

At the first mile I was running 6:34. Faster than I'd planned, but it got me away from some congestion. I slowed it back to a 6:47 pace and kept that consistent for the next 7 miles. It was easy locking on a pace as most of the course was very flat along Vancouver's sea wall. I quickly realized at this pace I'd never hit 1:25, but I felt solid and wanted to finish strong.

So at the 8-mile mark, the little running gnome burned past me. I took a mental picture and let him go. About 15 seconds later, another guy burns past me. A short black guy...It's always the short guys. At this point, I'd had enough. When I was running Victoria, I'd discovered the utter thrill of flying past people towards the finish. It was intoxicating to pass people without a single runner able to catch you. But having them run past you? Not so fun.

So that was it. I made my move and picked up the pace. I started passing runners. The short black guy was making good time, but i was patiently gaining on him. Eventually I pulled even for a very brief while, felt his look to me, then continued on...the stocky gnome now in my sights.

He took a bit longer to catch, but eventually he was staring at my back. And I carried on, locking on runners up ahead and quietly cruising past them. Man, it's a sweet feeling. The best is when you pull up along someone who absolutley does not want to let you run past them. They speed up and hold pace with you...side by side you run for several meters. I just stick to my plan. I don't speed up or slow down. I just keep running what i'm running. And then...at first so gradually...they start to slip off pace, unable to maintain the speed I've set. And then they suddenly drop away and I'm on to the next one.

I think those people are my favourites. They make me feel stronger. They're trying to keep with me but they just can't do it. I'd continue to the end of the race without a single runner passing me by.

I'd been running the last bit of the race at a comfortable 6:34 pace and cranked it a notch at the 12-mile mark. Now into the home stretch, I realized I'd run the entire race with an eye to my splits rather than my overall time. In fact, it was only coming up to mile 13 that I even started considering what my final time would be.

I'd decided at the start of the race that I wouldn't run with a pace band. I'd run according to how I felt, always pushing myself a bit faster than what was comfortable. And I couldn't complain about the results. I was rounding the final bend, the clock in view, trying to jettison everything left. I wasn't quite spent and i need to find a way to cross that line in pain, barely able to move at the end. I'm guessing I could have done a bit better. Nevertheless, i'm very happy with a new PB of 1:27:50.

A good indicator for Boston.

When the rain comes...

29 days of rain during the 31 days of January. And 3 days into February with straight rain. This is Vancouver. And I'll admit it. It's getting to me. It's really getting to me.

I ride a Vespa to work everyday. And everyday I get into my rain pants and rain jacket. And I ride in the cold and wet. I ride home in the cold and wet. Then I get into my run gear and I run in the cold and wet. I get home and toss all my clothes into the wash so I can start the routine all over again tomorrow.

And it's getting to me.

I never thought I'd crack in the rain. It never bothered me in the past. Rain would appear for a few days but there were always decent breaks of sunlight (and no snow) to make it all worthwhile. But then last Tuesday, I had a heavy run day. Because of scheduling, I needed to do 2 runs that day. I woke up early for my first run and heard the steady drumming on the roof. It was pouring.

I steeled myself for the run and ventured out. 50 minutes later I was back. Soaked and shivering. 1 down. I tossed the clothes in the wash then headed to work. Of course, as soon as I headed out to work, the rain had stopped. A small consolation for the Vespa though I wished I could have run in this.

8 1/2 hours later and I'm making my way to my Tuesday run clinic. And it's pouring. Really pouring. The kind of pouring I'd bail on any day if I weren't a run leader at this group.

I arrive and am surprised to see just how many runners have shown up. I put on my best "let's go team" face and ready for the run.

And it's wet. And gross, and cold, and every awful thing I can think of. I commit to puddles so that i can just get the soaker over with rather than run with half and half shoes. I have to admit, I'm impressed with the people I'm running with. I can see they're all miserable, but they're committed to the run. They're doing it.

When my group finishes, we congratulate ourselves on finishing in such horrendous conditions. Everyone agrees this is the worst rain we've all ever run in. And we take some small pride in having ventured out in it.

But the next day (Thursday - hence the 2 runs on Tuesday), it's raining again. And I can feel something snap in me. When it was raining today as well, I didn't know what to think. I just ran it thinking of Boston every step I took. But honestly, I just wanted to toss my shoes in the dumpster and crawl into a warm bath.

Tomorrow's Saturday. At least I'll be able to choose my time to run...when it'll be raining the least.

My Past Marathons

Before I began my first marathon, I had illusions that I'd qualify for Boston straight away. Just like that. After a humbling first race, I re-evaluated my goals. I'd still do Boston. But maybe not as quickly. Nevertheless, I was very happy that after my 4th marathon, I was able to find my stride and do it.

3:37:51----Vancouver Marathon 2004 (on my 40th birthday)
3:41:26----Okanagan Marathon 2004
3:32:00----Vancouver Marathon 2005
3:13:48----Victoria Marathon 2005
3:11:42----Boston Marathon 2006 (PB)
3:20:46---Mohawk River Marathon 2007
3:16:25---Boston Marathon 2008
3:21:40---Picton Marathon 2008 (ugh!)
3:26:31---New York City Marathon 2009

My Personal Best Times

These are my PB times. Expect revisions...

18:02-----5k
32:37-----8k
39:02----10k
1:27:50---1/2 marathon
3:11:42----Marathon