Race day report, photos and a first for
Buick City Complex, video!
I awoke
to the insistent buzz of the alarm at 4:35am. It’s fair to say I like to
prepare early. Breakfast was a bowl of porridge oats followed by toast and jam
with two cups of tea. Next I ran a hot bath and sank in to soften my muscles.
After rubbing warming embrocation cream into my leg muscles, lubrication gel
into sensitive areas that might chafe and moisturising lotion into my face, I
was as ready as I would ever be.
At
a leisurely pace I pulled on my Lycra running gear and pinned on my race bib.
There are several things I need to take with me on long runs and I stuffed the
small pouch on my drinks belt with lip balm, two energy gels, jelly beans,
tissues and a mileage chart I had printed and laminated listing various kilometer
markers and split times and a water bottle of course.
Michelle
drove me to Brackley Beach. We parked at 7:30am and wandered among the milling
throng of athletes. Luckily it had stayed dry although the claimed one degree Celsius felt very
cold in a stiff westerly wind. At the gun I set off at a gentle pace,
deliberately holding back the temptation to surge ahead with all that pent up
energy from four hundred miles of dedicated training.
I
was passed by dozens of runners on the long straight drag of Gulf Shore Parkway
and as always was struck by their variety of shapes, styles and colourful
running gear. Some wore just a vest and shorts while others were bundled under
coats, hats and gloves. We ran parallel to the shore and between the dunes I
could see a fair surf. The Island event attracts fewer than three hundred
runners (for the full marathon) and all are enthusiastic amateurs, no cartoon characters or runners
with horses’ heads here. The winner will cross the line in just over two and a
half hours but a mere mortal like me will require a couple of hours longer.
I
checked off the kilometer markers, comparing them with my chart. I was on my
planned schedule and feeling good. By ten kilometers no one was passing me; we
had settled into our respective grooves. After a hot summer of sweating
profusely through training runs it was a change to feel cool and dry. Truthfully
it was cold and I wished I had worn my long sleeve shirt. I took sips from my
water bottle and picked up Gatorade at several stations. I sucked down energy
gel, trying not to gag and washing it down with water.
As
I ran across the halfway mark my watch read two hours seventeen minutes and as my tentative
goal was four hours thirty-five minutes, I was running at the right pace, to within a couple
of seconds a mile. Michelle had driven out to cheer me on at halfway and for a
while she ran alongside in her rain boots, offering me a bite of a Snickers bar
and handing me the peanut butter and jam sandwich I had made before dawn.
The
second leg of the route swings off the road onto a section of the Confederation
Trail, a former railroad. The tracks were lifted twenty-five years ago and the
lines given over to hiking and biking. It’s great for running because the
locomotives required gentle gradients which are now runner-friendly.
My
consistent pace began to draw me closer to runners who had passed me earlier
but were now starting to flag. Traditionally you hit the ‘wall’ around kilometer
thirty, mile twenty, but I still felt strong and started overhauling those who
were beginning to struggle. I counted a total of twenty-five runners as I
passed them. All those ridiculously big plates of potatoes or pasta had stocked
up my muscles.
Eight
miles of trail running, flanked by trees in full autumn foliage, gave shelter
from the wind but as I turned onto Brackley Point Road for the uphill grind to
the airport I felt very cold for the first time. The wind was strong and head-on.
My right eye lost focus but I wasn’t concerned, the right turn onto Sherwood
with its steep hill down then up took me closer to home.
The
left turn onto University Avenue was both a psychological boost because the
final three miles are a dead straight line to the finish and a physical boost
because the wind swung round to my right shoulder. Crossing the various intersections
was easy as traffic cops were out in force holding up cars and barricading the
final section of the route.
University
Avenue may be straight as an arrow but it is also undulating. Those rolling
slopes are steep for a tired runner but I held my pace and checked my watch
again: four hours seventeen minutes with three kilometers to go. University was closed to
traffic and I ran on the centre line, all the while watching the finishing banner
loom closer against the backdrop of Province House.
The
race announcer boomed out my name with a hundred metres to go and I spotted
Michelle, Maisie and Kathleen holding a huge “Go Daddy” sign and cheering
loudly. I waved and forged on to the
line finishing in four hours thirty-eight minutes. A silver space blanket, a finisher’s
medal and happy faces awaited me.
I came two hundred and fiftieth out of a total of two hundred and seventy-five finishers and twenty-seventh out of the thirty-seven males in my age category. More importantly I sliced
seventeen minutes off my previous best which is down to better diet and hydration both in
the preceding weeks and in the race, fewer training runs over sixteen miles and a lighter
starting weight. I still lost almost four pounds in weight during the marathon, hardly surprising as I burned off three thousand eight hundred calories! After a lazy afternoon, another long hot bath and a huge supper, I settled the
girls into bed at 8pm and went straight to bed myself to sleep soundly for nine
hours. I feel stiff and sore today, particularly my right Achilles tendon and
my left knee but I have energy and feel in pretty good shape.
Well,
that’s it for this year. We’ll see what next year brings.
