Another race. Another Jay-Z lyric as a blog title.
When it comes to the Army Run, just like the song goes, the answer, of course, is:
A wet Friday and Saturday thankfully gave way to a cool, sunny Sunday. I got pretty soaked during a downpour in the middle of the friendship run on Sunday. Kalin came with me but decided to skip the run. She had just returned from a work trip abroad the night before and thought it best not to goof things up for the sake of a warm-up. The rotten weather gave us an excuse to have a pre-race carb meal of brunch at Mello’s in the market. Actually, we don’t need an excuse. We’ve been regulars there for a months. One of the cheapest and best breakfasts in the Market.
Sunday morning, it was probably 4 degrees and sunny when Kalin and I left for the race. It might have warmed up during the run, but not by much. We arrived at city hall with plenty of time to check my bag and make a run to the bathroom before we hopped into our coral and wait for gun time.
At the Army Run, gun time is actually cannon time.
The run started off with some technical difficulties. Like the last race, I decided to run with music. Unfortunately, my damn earphones wouldn’t stay in my ears. The only difference between this race and the last one was the fact I was both a hat and sunglasses. Those extra millimetres seemed to keep the earphones from resting in place. It was annoying enough that by my second walk break, I had given up the ghost and yanked the earphones from the iPhone and stuffed them in a pouch.
It may have made a difference. I kept my concentration on the run and listened to my body. I was also more aware of my surroundings and the people around me.
With the massive crowd at the start line, it took a while to get into my pace. The 2 hour finish pace when you’re doing 10 and 1 run/walk intervals is 5 min 27 secs per km. I wanted to go a little faster than that so I would at least match, maybe best, my previous time.
I went a lost faster. Here’s what the Garmin recorded.
Instead of that pace, I was averaging a little more than 5 min/km by the time I hit my third interval. I managed to keep it up until about the 13K mark. I hit the 10K mark, which was mid-way through the incline of the Alexandria St. Bridge, at a little past the 53 minute mark on the Garmin, 4 minutes faster than my 10K split.
One goal I had set for myself for motivation: catch Laurence Wright. Laurence, you’ll remember from the post on the Kilt Run, is the manager of the new Running Room in Westboro and was the pace bunny for the 1:55 continuous pace group. I set catching up to him as my goal for the race. If I could catch up to him, and maybe even pass him, I knew I would break my own personal best. I would also have the thrill of beating one of my mentors.
Lord knows, the only time I’ll ever have a chance of beating him is when he’s holding back as pace bunny.
It was not to be. I started too far back, a full four minutes between gun time and when I crossed the start line, but I came pretty close. He was the first person I saw congratulating everyone as they emerged from the recovery area.
While I didn’t catch up to Laurence, I did better than him. My final chip time was 1:53:17, over 4 and a half minutes better than my personal best.
The Army Run is truly an inspirational event. Running with members of our armed forces is truly an extraordinary experience. As I rounded the corner on Sussex Dr. before Guiges heading back toward Rideau, I ended up taking a walk break along side an amputee runner from Army. I quickly grabbed a drink, popped a gel and as the break ended, I turned to him and said, “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For doing what I couldn’t.” My break ended and I went on my way.
I even got a high five from the Governor General. After running the 5K race and seeing us off at the start of the half marathon, he returned to Rideau Hall to cheer on the runners from the front gates of his home. As I ran by, I raised my hand just on the lark that he might give me a high five. Not only did he, he shouted “Keep going, Michael!”.
I’d like to think it was because he recognized me from this photo:
Let’s face it, most people who know me today don’t believe that’s me in that photo. He knew my name because it was printed on my bib. More than one stranger saw it and called me by name. Thank you. It helped get me to the start line.
Thanks to everyone who helped get me to the start line and the friends and strangers along the course who came to cheer me on. You helped me make it to the finish line.
I couldn’t believe it when I crossed the line and the gun clock said 1:57:13, 40 seconds better than my last chip time. I knew I smashed my last result. The question was now how much. I waited for Sportstats to update my Facebook status and gave me my chip time. As my body realized the race was over, I could feel my grandfathers patting me on the back. I knew I had done good.
I received my finishers medal, modelled after the CF’s dogtags, thanking the soldier who placed it on me and made it through the recovery area. Instead of thermal blankets, they gave out white zip up hoodies that resembles the coveralls Walter White wears in Breaking Bad. There was also a box of snacks instead of the usual collection of fruit and stale bagels. Good call on both. A lot of the goodies had nuts so Kalin and I would trade nuts for non-nut products. I got more out of that than she did.
Speaking of Kalin, her race went well, too. I managed to get back to the course from the recovery area in time to see her finish. She finished her first half marathon at 2:40. She would have liked to have finished sooner, but there were a lot of obstacles in her way. The ankle is still bothering her from the accident. A couple of weeks before the race she got sick with a cold. Days before, she spent 9 hours in economy class flying back from Europe. The summer humidity was murder on her lungs, still recovering from her cancer treatments. Not the best situation to run her first half marathon in. Just a year and a half after was declared cancer free, however, she made it to the start line and then the finish line and is happy with the result. Everything else is details.
We made a quick swing by Booster Juice for post race smoothies and then went home to change. Steve, the 1:50 pace leader had organized a post-race get together at St. Louis on Elgin. It served as a graduation of sorts for the clinic. Instead of robes, the dress code was race shirts and bling.
I got to chat with a lot of the people in my pace group. Seems like everyone enjoyed the race and made their goal times. Roger even gave me a bottle of wine as a thank you. I’m glad I played a part in their success. So many played a part in mine.
Now it’s on to the next one.
Best rally speech ever. If plays were rap battles, Henry V is the one where Shakespeare drops the mike afterwards.
Speaking of Shakespeare and rap battles:
It’s time for the Army Run. I really enjoyed the 5K last year. It’s a great event for a great cause, our wounded troops. Proceeds go to Soldier On and the Military Families Fund. If you would like to donate, you can click here.
I’ve always admired our soldiers. My grandfathers had both served in World War II. I didn’t know Tom Read Sr.; he succumbed to cancer when I was just a couple of months old. He served in the home guard and remained on base in Sydney. My mother’s father, Donald MacEachern, was a combat engineer and served in Europe. I’ve mentioned before that he didn’t talk much about the war. None of his generation did. At least in front of the kids and, later, grandkids. Their wives forbade it. Fittingly, the only story he ever told us was the day he was wounded. That story he even saved until years after Grammie Ellen had passed away. He would carry a physical reminder of the war for the rest of his life.
Growing up minutes from CFB Gagetown, you get to know a lot of people in the Canadian Forces. When I volunteered with St. John Ambulance, I got to work with many of the base’s medics. I always admired their dedication to their brothers-in-arms and their community. My cousin, Read Coleman, also served in the CF and did a tour in Afghanistan. I’ve had a number of friends who did tours in Afghanistan. I thank God on a routine basis that they made it back alive and unharmed. Unfortunately, I can’t say that for that for their brothers-in-arms.
It’s for them I’ll be running.
I decided years ago that I couldn’t do what they do. Part of that was my size and overall lack of fitness. My public service would be through politics.
Before you can run the race, though, you have to train. It was the last week of our clinic which means the runs were at race pace. Race pace runs can be a real confidence booster the week before the run. They can also provide a moment of reckoning. Thankfully, my runs were more confidence boosting than reckoning.
Sunday was nice and cool for a quick 6 km up and down the canal. The group was a little fast. With the faster short runs, it’s tough to keep the group together. The clinic gathered for an end of clinic brunch afterwards. It was nice to chill out and relax with the gang. It was even better when the clock struck 11 and we could order beer. It gave me a chance to buy one of my runners a beer to pay him back for one he paid for at Mill St. back in August.
Tuesday went long. The clinic topic was race day preparation. There’s always a lot of questions from people who are running the race for the first time. A lot could be answered by simply going to the website, but it was pretty obvious that there were a lot of nervous runners in the room. Just wait until they have to jump over the pit of starving velociraptors! We didn’t get out for the run until 7:15 pm. This time of year, it’s dark rather early and we had 10k to run. We banged it out like champs, but it made for a long-ass day.
Wednesday was another 6K at race pace and our last run night before race day. It was a larger group than usual. I even got to run with a friend from NB who was in town for business. Like Sunday, it was fast. Most of my group kept up. The few that fell behind were well within the normal range for a 2H finish. I know they’ll well on race day.
As we ramp up for race day, I got a lesson in the need for proper nutrition. One of my runners told me she wasn’t feeling well since we hit the 20K mark in distance two Sundays earlier. She was feeling sluggish and tired like she was running out of gas. I asked what she was eating and it seemed like okay food. Then I asked how much and how often. That’s when we hit the target. Her portions seemed rather small (I can never really tell though when it comes to vegetarian meals how many legumes equals a proper protein serving) and she was only eating three times day. On run nights, her last meal might be at lunch. I suggested she eat five times, with little mini-meals as snacks. Hopefully we caught that in time she can enjoy the race and get a result she trained for.
I’m also tapering this week which means cutting out the cross training. Translation: no Greco this week. I’m also taking next week off to recover. I’ll be hitting my anniversary during my recovery period. Not sure what I’m going to do. Maybe I’ll catch a movie … on cheap night. Haven’t had a Tuesday night free since February.
Looks like it’s going to be mostly sunny with slight chance of showers for race day. All I can say now is: bring it. I’m going to have a good run on Sunday and hope the folks I trained with these last few do so as well.
One week before showtime!
We finished speed training this week, which marks the second-to-last phase of the half marathon clinic. Twitter followers already know of my Garmin fail at the end of the workout so no link to the activity report. Lesson learned: the seven day period you’re doing a combined 38K (20K LSD, 6K Tempo, 12K speed training) is probably the week you should not rely on a single battery charge.
It’s probably for the best. I can’t remember if I had remembered to pause it when I had to go … umm … err… “find a golf ball” in the woods after the first 1 mile repeat. I thought I left my “golf balls” back at the “pro shop”, but it was pretty apparent my “golf bag” was full and wasn’t going to wait until we were finished “our round”.
Wow, that’s more about golf than I ever want to write about.
I tend to wax nostalgic towards the end of clinics. You don’t spend training with the same people three times a week for 17 weeks (or longer for the repeat offenders) without building a few bonds. Every pace group is different and they’re usually quite fun. There’s always a few rabbits, but that usually works itself out. With just a few practice runs left, looks like everyone in my group is going to make it to the start line (knock on wood).
It’s important to remember while we are on our own on race day, the race is not a solitary experience. Among the thousands running with us are the friends we’ve trained with. During race weekend, I probably spotted and managed to say a quick hello to most of my pace group from that clinic. There’s also the friends cheering along the sidelines as well as the ones at home checking Facebook and Twitter for that ever important finish result.
There’s also the people we do our “other” training with. Like most runners, I cross train. Regular readers will know that I currently do my cross training at the Greco on Sparks St. I certainly wouldn’t have made it this far without them. Going to the early morning classes gave me an excuse to drag my ass out of bed in the morning four days a week while I was unemployed. Now waking up at 7 for the 8 pm class seems like sleeping in. There’s a pretty good crew of regulars there for the morning workouts. Sometimes we’ll tell the folks coming in for the 8 am class what they’re in for, especially the bonus rounds, only to have the trainers change it up a bit. We’ll never embellish, though. If anything, we undersell the workout to lull them into a false sense of security (I think they know better by now).
Unfortunately, one of the guys is leaving to go backpacking for a few months through Asia. Since this morning was my last workout for a couple of weeks (usually take two weeks off to taper then recover for the race), he’ll be gone by the time I get back. Wish him the best and hope to see him in the new year when he’s back.
This run will also be special in another way. It’s the week of my one year anniversary of reaching my goal weight. Who would have thought when I posted my first note about my weightloss in January of last year that I would have made it to my goal, exceeded it and maintained a healthy lifestyle?
Truthfully, there was a lot of upfront trepadation and it took a few weeks of settling into my new routine of morning workouts and following the nutrition plan before I had the confidence in myself to know I could do it.
I’ve said it before, I wouldn’t have made it without my support system, my friends and family.
Whether it was lifting the weights at the gym or running a race, I was never alone.
Surround yourself with your friends on your journey and neither will you.
Hey, remember me?
Yeah, it’s been a few weeks since I last wrote anything substantial. While Lance Armstrong’s cop-out did throw me for a creative loop a couple weeks ago, I was just plain busy the last couple of weeks. While I haven’t had an actual vacation this year (no, unemployment doesn’t count as vacation), it seemed like a good time to take a little vacay from the blog.
There’s quite a bit coming up for me. The Army Run is fast approaching. The following week will be the one year anniversary of reaching my weight loss goal. I have to admit that I have not stepped on the scale in what seems like forever. The clothes I bought last year still fit. If anything, they’ve gotten looser.
With the Army Run coming up, training is ramping up. We’re on the second week of speed work. As before, we run to the track at Immaculata High School and do 1-mile repeats on their outdoor track. It makes for a bit more than 11 km in total distance for the night. My legs don’t seem as sore the next morning as when we do hills. It’s probably because it’s easier on the legs to run 5:15 on a flat track than whatever pace we ran (I was a little faster than tempo) up the hills.
As usual, the long runs are getting longer. I actually like it when we get into the double-digits on LSD runs. It seems like the longer the runs, the more we use the trails instead of the city streets. That means less waiting for traffic lights, the bane of the runner.
Thankfully, the heatwave that hit Ontario this summer has broken. Two Sundays ago we did a great 18K run that again took us through the conservation area and around McKay Lake. Unfortunately, the humidity made a return appearance that morning. Most of my runners made it through, but I noticed it was bad enough that some of the marathon runners were ending their runs early (they were doing 28k).
Last Sunday, we had a nice and cool run along the Rideau River until it met the canal, where we headed up to Little Italy (my old neighbourhood) and through town until we were back on the trail, this time along the Ottawa River.
As we ran back to the store, the trail took us past the hill at Fleet St., the scene of most of our hill training. As we approached, I shouted, “Okay, ten hill repeats!”
No one gets my sense of humour.
One of the questions I’ve been getting lately is what keeps me motivated? It’s been almost a year and as time and distance pass, it’s easy to slack off and regress. Many do. So what keeps me going?
I like beer. It makes me a jolly good fellow. I like food, too. The greasy shit I used to eat pretty much churns my stomach now. I still like to eat. I know if I want to have beer or a meal out, I have to earn it. Since most of the meals I don’t make myself are post-run meals, I think I earn them. I also have healthier take out meals than I used to. I am still very capable of making very stupid choices when I’m coming home late and occassionally sin, but my morning workouts at Greco provides as good a penance for food sins as church does for the other ones.
I’m a pretty goal oriented person. I think spending most of your adult life in univeristy meeting assignment deadlines does that to a person. The Running Room’s programs, with their weekly schedule of runs, does a good job of setting up daily and weekly goals to get me through to my larger goals. Videogame makers created achievements/trophies/whatever Wii calls them to draw in goal whores like me. Since I pretty much use my XBox as a DVD player during the non-winter months and as a replacement for my paintball addiction during the frozen months, the whole affirmation junkie scene never drove my activity. In fact, I’ve never actually played any of my game’s online multiplayer modes.
Races provide me with the medium-term goals that I need to motivate me to lace up the runners every Sunday morning. My performance goal for Army Run is to simply repeat Ottawa Race Weekend with a sub 2 hour finish.
I can be a pretty competitive person when I want to be. Every hero needs a villian. Batman needs the Joker. The Doctor needs the Master. My Master is…
I wasn’t unhappy when I was fat, but I wasn’t happy either. Like a pig that rolls around in his own excrement, I assumed I was happy from lack of knowledge of the alternative. Now that I know the difference, I’m not going back.
Remember, no Algernons here.
Just have to make sure I don’t become a total prick like Charley, too.
For that, I have my friends to help me on my way. They lift me up when I’m down and give me the swift kick in the arse I deserve when I get too high on my horse. I’ve said it often, but it bears repeating. Iwouldn’t be here without them and the friends I’ve made along the way.