69.1 miles run in 2015 races
Race: Around the Bay 30k
Place: Hamilton, ON
Miles from home: 2582
Weather: 20-30s; Sunny; Windy
Some races I study meticulously and some I barely look at
prior to running them. The latter
usually only happens when I have no particular time goal or when I just happen
to be a tad too busy to put forth the energy. I was most assuredly busy in the days leading up to the Around the Bay
30k. A hectic travel and work schedule
(including a 12 hour expo book signing before running the Cooper River Bridge Run on
the day before this race) left me with little time to delve into the minutia of
this particular course. The CRBR had left me uncharacteristically wrecked in my
legs. While the race was tough, it was
merely 6.2 miles. I also hadn’t run anywhere close to hard enough to warrant
the soreness I felt in my quads. But nonetheless on the plane ride to Buffalo,
NY, my quads were destroyed.
Fortunately for me, a great deal of the race morning
planning was being handled for me. I was
the guest of Kris Graci, one of the 17 women featured in my book, Running With The Girls. Suffice it to say that you should get the book if only to read about her
incredible story. But for me, it meant that I didn’t have to find where the
race was, find parking or everything else one has to do on race morning. This
was the exact opposite of the day before in Charleston, SC for the CRBR. That
had been a fiasco of parking, shuttles, running back to my car, and getting back
to the hotel so I could drive to the airport o fly to NYC then to Buffalo and then drive to Canada.
Unfortunately for me, I neglected to remember (or ask, I
forget which) whether Kris had any pets. She had three very friendly cats in her lovely home. The problem is, allergies do not care about
the disposition of that to which you are allergic. I found out I had no medicine to treat myself
either and given the late nature of my arrival had no way to get any from any
store. Hopefully, I would not be too affected before the race.
Morning of:
Kris and her boyfriend Manfred, an Austrian by birth who has
been in Canada most his life, took me to the start of the race. Kris was also
running the race, as was a litany of her friends. We joined some 11,000 of our
closest friends in the FirstOntario Centre where they play hockey (natch) and
hold other events. This would serve as
the holding ground for us before the race as well as the finish line afterward. It was going to be a chilly day for sure
which the temperature hovering right around 25 degrees (or -4 Celsius for my Canadian
friends. Side note: I absolutely love Canada.
I think it is just a marvelous place and have never come back from a
trip there unsatisfied. I would love to spend a month there learning and living
with the people and seeing how we, separated by the thinnest of borders, and
looking so much alike, are so very different. But I digress.)
I met Kris’ friends and watched all the others milling
around dressed like they were Floridians dealing with 60 degree mornings. Why were they wearing so many layers? This is Canada! I was wearing a simple pair of Skins shorts
and a short-sleeve Skins top. I had a
Craft long sleeve half-zip on that I fully intended to throw off right before
the start. However, I assumed the Canadians knew more than me about their own
weather and looking around at all the heavily-clad runners decided I should
keep it on. This later revealed to be a painful mistake.
Corrals were loaded with people by their estimated time,
snaking around the block. By the time I
got to my intended area, the race was just some three minutes from starting. I
had been given an unseeded corral bib which I intended to honor until I saw the
thousands of people in front of me in that corral. So, I did what I normally
detest of others and moved as far ahead as possible in the corral after everyone
else was in place. I found the pace
group for the time I was quite sure I would have no problem running and filed
in about 20 meters behind them. I looked back at all the people I had passed,
and most of those still in front of me, and knew I was still far too back.
Runners may be the biggest hypochondriacs out there outwardly to the world
(“Oh, I am so sick and this is so sore and I am so out of shape!”) but they
seem to be irrationally confident when it comes to correctly placing themselves
in race corrals. I definitely was not in the wrong place.
At the precise time when the race was supposed to start, the
gun was fired. Go Canada!
First 5k: 20:38
I realized quickly there would be no mile markers for this
race, only kilometer. Not to tax my brain too much I decided to only keep track
of my 5k splits. That was something I
could do math around to see I was on target. As these first three miles took us
out from the stadium, through the slightly rundown neighborhoods surrounding it, and then
out onto a four lane highway, I was feeling very good. My first kilometer was in 4:04 which meant as
much to me as a trombone playing a sandwich does to rhino astronauts. But then
I did the math to equal five of those kilometers and I thought: “Hey, not bad.”
The next km was even faster and I was feeling good. I was
also feeling hot. I had already rolled
the sleeves up of the long sleeve shirt. A kilometer later I undid the
zipper. Now, as half zips are wont to
do, one of the lapels was rhythmically slapping me in the chin and neck. So I
took the collar and tucked it inward.
Kris had advised me the first few miles had a series of
overpasses to go over. As I did no reconnaissance
on the race, I was hoping she remembered correctly and there were only three.
The bright sunshine lit our path as the empty streets and backyards of
Hamilton, ON industry were our only spectators. Occasionally a few people would
dot a bridge we ran under but for the most part we were out here on our own. The first 5k went by
much faster than expected and I felt good in spite of my quads still more
sore from the previous day’s 10k race than they had been after running 26.2
miles at the Phoenix Marathon a month prior.
10k: 20:35 (41:16)
On our way to the first 1/3 of the race being over the race
was more of the same. Lonely, not-so-pretty streets with little to look at. I
say that because people sometimes care about scenery in a race. I personally
could not care less. As I said in
138,336 Feet to Pure Bliss, a beautiful and majestic moose on the green hill
above, eating daisies and playing with the birds on his antlers does not make
me run any faster.
Kris had correctly remembered there were three overpasses
and for that I was grateful. We did, however, have one onramp to take us up and
over the street we were on at the 10k to deal with. Prior to that I was playing
cat and mouse with a slew of runners. On the flats sections I would fall
back. On the uphills (never my specialty
but something that still allows me to put distance on many runners) I would
push by them. Then on the downhills, I
would put even more distance between us. After that, the flats would allow them
to catch up to me again and we would rinse lather and repeat.
I was shocked to see I ran this 5k faster than the first and
only 12 seconds slower than the entire 10k race the day before. I didn’t know
exactly what that said about my effort today or yesterday exactly but it sure
was telling about something. If only I
knew what.
15k: 21:21 (1:02:35)
The next 3.1 miles can basically be summed up as one long,
flat stretch where the houses appeared, a few spectators came out, and I fell
into a little bit of a funk. I found it hard to maintain pace and was generally
tired. I simply tried to concentrate on my stride and focus inward thinking
only about how at 15k I would be halfway done.
Every kilometer was marked with an inspirational quote or
saying. It was a nice touch out here
especially where there weren’t many crowds to motivate you. One of them said:
”You can learn everything about yourself by running a 30k.”
I turned to the group of guys next to me, nodded at the sign
and said “What if I am not that curious. Can I just stop at the halfway
point?” The muffled laughter made me
feel a little better about myself and jolted me out of my slump. Right at the halfway point, passing over a
grated drawbridge helped even more. I freaking love bridges.
I saw if I repeated the same time for the second half I
would run 2:05:02 for the race. That would have pleased me. So I settled down
and concentrated doing just that. I have run a faster pace for a marathon than
that but that is not where I am right now. Accepting where you are right now
and not being too discouraged about it is the key to getting through running. Or life, really.
20k: 21:49 (1:24:25)
When racing I have an impeccable memory. I remember street
signs, spectators garb, quarter mile splits and a slew of other information. That said, I
cannot, for the life of me, remember much about this 5k at all. I know I was happy with my split at the
halfway point. I remember running down the little ramp from the cool bridge and
I remember finally turning off the little slice of land which protected the
Hamilton Harbour. But that is about it.
I knew I was getting tired and I just wanted to get to where I had 6.2
miles of running left. I vaguely recall
the nice houses on our right with Lake Ontario behind them. There is the smallest recollection of the
Harbour on our left and me occasionally passing and then being passed by some
of the same runners as we played cat and mouse again.
But other than that all I have is vague memories. To be honest, it is a
little weird for me.
One thing that sticks out fervently, however, is right as we
approached the 20k mark, I remembered Kris telling me this was the section
which had rolling hills in it. For some reason, I had a feeling she was not
properly painting what these hills felt like.
By now, also, I was drenched in sweat, with my sleeves rolled up, and the zipper down on my long-sleeve. In fact, I had tucked the unzipped collar inward before even hitting the 5k. The painful mistake I mentioned earlier was that the zipper rubbed my collarbone raw. I learned this later in the shower. Ouch.
25k: 22:55 (1:47:20)
A big to-do was made about how this year, due to construction,
the biggest and hardest hill of the race was not part of the course. Undoubted
to return next year, it’s removal made some feel cheated. People might not like
obstacles but they appear to want them in their way so they can brag about
having overcome them later. I was more than happy to find out this news.
Unfortunately, because so many were focused on this big hill
being gone, they neglected to mention that series of undulating beasts that the
course still contained from 20-25km. No less than 4 of these sat between me and
what had been promised to be nothing but flat or downhill for the final 3.1
miles.
Each one of these hills took more and more out of me. Not
knowing they existed, how long they were, and how much they climbed, made my
legs weak. In a beautiful area around Hamilton Harbour, with homes which had to
cost many a loonie, I normally would have at least glanced around to appreciate
what was there. But today, as the road
twisted and turned, hiding the summit of each of the hills, my already tired
legs failed me. On more than a few
occasions I walked. But each time I did so, I was buoyed by the fact that I caught
and passed all those who had passed me when I was walking. Of course, if I had been running the pace I
wanted or had been earlier, they shouldn't have been around me in the first
place. But when we flag or waver we
reach for small victories.
I knew I was in no way going to get a 2:05 anymore. But I
thought perhaps a 2:08, the equivalent of running the pace of a sub-3 hour marathon,
was still in the cards. With the hills finally behind me and a nice long
gradual downhill promising to help sweep me into the finish, I knew I just had
to run a 21 minutes final 5k to do just that. Not impossible but not easy.
30K: 22:41
Unfortunately, while the hill might be gone, the wind was
not. A stiff breeze which had swirled a
bit earlier in the race, and had been blocked some by those very same hills I
cursed earlier, was now full on in our face as we turned to head home. A group
of guys numbering at least 12 went by me working together. I fell into this pack knowing I did not wish
to fight the wind alone. But their pace
was too quick. I had to internally debate whether I wanted to slow down and
fight the wind alone or continue to run harder than I felt I could in order to
stay sheltered. I decided too late to ease off the throttle and when I finally
slowed my pace, I came to yet another walk. Bollocks.
As I geared up running again, I heard some in the crowd
mention the 2:10 pacer was coming up behind me. Double bollocks. I didn’t
really expect to be pushing hard to stay in front of him with 4k to go. Sure
enough, however, he soon passed me with another group of guys. Like before I
fell in behind them. Unlike before, however, their pace was more maintainable.
For the next mile or so I hung tight until the group started
to break up. Some fell off the back, others smelled the barn and began pushing
for home. As I had started the race behind the 2:10 guy I knew I had some time
to spare. As such, if I kept up, I should have no problem breaking 2:10. Hitting
the 29k mark I had exactly 5 minutes to go under the desired goal time. I knew
that even a slow kilometer was 4:30 and with this downhill finish, I thought I
might actually push hard and salvage a 2:08:59.
As the stadium came into view I noticed I couldn’t see where
the runners entered for the indoor finish. I looked at my watch and realized
this was going to be much closer than it should be. Finally I saw runners turning and heading
down a ramp. A clock outside showed me I
had only 25 seconds to break 2:10. I gritted my teeth, made the turn down the
tunnel and was immediately made blind by the change from bright sunshine to
indoor darkness. My Julbo sunglasses adjusted as quickly as one could hope.
However, I can see how this could be very dangerous if the smooth cement was
icy even if you weren’t blinded. At the bottom of this double-tiered ramp with
a flat section in the middle, we had to make another quick 90-degree turn onto
the field. I felt I probably had no
chance to break 2:10.
I gave it everything I had in the final yards and hit my
watch well after the finish. It showed
2:10:02. I knew I had some leeway but I didn’t know how much. When I finally
got the official results I found out it wasn’t enough. My time was 2:10:00.4. Oh well.
Given I have never run a 30k, my positive spin was this was
an instant PR. Or, since we were in the Great White North, a PB (they call it
a “personal best” here in Canada, eh.) I finished 268th out of 7,277
finishers. That is a ton of fast people in front of me. I also have a new race
to recommend to people.
The volunteers were top notch, the signage on the course was
very well-done and the overall logistics of the race were extremely accommodating.
Also, I neglected to mention, the Around the Bay race is the oldest road race
in North America. That’s right, as it proudly claims, it is “Older than
Boston.” In fact, I have no doubt most
of the people where were using this race as their final tune-up for Boston. In Pure Bliss, even though I had never once
run a 30k I said defiantly that it was the perfect distance to tune-up for a
marathon. In the U.S., few runners do anything beyond a half-marathon in the
states before jumping to 26.2 miles. I can know unequivocally state my
assertion about how a 30k is a great race to test yourself before running a
marathon was 100% right. You owe it to yourself, as a runner, to run more 30Ks.
I would suggest you start with this one right here in Hamilton, Ontario.
It’s aboot time you did.
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