2014 Ironman Mt. Tremblant Race Report - The Run

Coming out of the tent with fresh new clothes, and the best looking tri kit that I have (thank you Coeur!), I did not want to spoil the feeling of starting anew with an unfortunate accident, so I jumped in a port-a-potty conveniently situated on the red carped and took care of some lingering business. With light feet and a light tummy, I was springy like a horny bunny.

I started running with my usual "all day long pace" (around 6:30min/km) and my plan was to keep it easy and relaxed and see how far my legs would take me without the dreaded pain that had taken over my knees 2 months prior. And oh surprise, I was feeling NO pain! One km, two km... the hills were looking nasty and my fitness wasn't quite there as I had pretty much given up running for 6 weeks before the Ironman, but I saw most people around me (going in the same direction, because in the opposite one was the fierce fight for the first place female and that was looking quite intense) walking up the hills and so I decided to follow suit. Nobody was there to judge, so why would I care?

We are all legit, dammit. Besides, there was still enough daylight to bask in, so ... smile and enjoy, the journey goes on and there is not a hiccup in sight. After 4km or so we arrived in the old Mt. Tremblant village where the landscape changed to flat and scenic as we reached "Le P'tit Train du Nord" trail. And just like a long train, I continued to hold my place in the stream of bodies, strongly decided not to walk again, unless I was going through a water station and I needed to grab something.

My fuel belt was already feeling heavy and I had no desire to drink anything from it for the time being. Remember my problem with boredom of the palate? Yeah, that can be annoying sometimes. At the first water station on the trail I had the choice between Coke, Red Bull, water and Perform (I think) and I took some Coke to see if my body tolerates it. No immediate adverse reaction and no problem for the next 4km... Win! The studies were there to prove it, drinking Coke in the last portion of an endurance event could enhance performance, and despite the fact that I stopped drinking pop in 2007, getting a little boost with a "gas expeller" side effect, was not going to be a choice to be ashamed of.

I also took a few orange slices to remove the sweet and sticky taste of Coke. My taste buds were already rebellious by then. I continued running steady with almost no walking breaks, still amazed at my lack of pain in the knees. Told you guys that adrenaline and endorphins are powerful drugs... you should do more of those, they're totally legal.

Right after I reached the end of the trail and turned around, it started raining again. Seriously, Mother Nature? Another temper tantrum, but this one did not last enough to spoil the day... maybe 10 minutes in total. We got a little wet, but it was rather refreshing. However my feet got soaked and I started looking forward to the fresh pair of socks that I had in my special needs bag. Soon enough I was back in the village, but there was still a way to go before the end of the loop. First, another chunk of trail in the opposite direction, not paved this time... and I had to watch my footing so I don't roll an ankle. One cannot be too careful on Ironman day, especially when everything is going so well!

Then back on the hills again... and who do I see with 3km to go? Zin!! There he was, he came to keep me company for a bit, although from the opposite side of the sidewalk so I don't get DQ'd or something. I was so paranoid... I wanted to give him my fuel belt and I started thinking of scenarios that would not qualify as "outside assistance" and came to the conclusion that I could just as well throw it inside a garbage can or on the ground and he could pick it up later... but I threw it at him anyway. He took this photo of me just minutes before, when he saw me emerging from the woods so to speak. I chose to keep the bottle of pickle juice with me though, as I never did a marathon without it.

I've got company, haha. I wonder if this picture is a good representation of the male/female participation ratio at this races. 7:1? Anyway, I had NO idea. 

I stopped at special needs where I sat for 2 minutes to change my socks - what a lovely feeling, like a new pair of feet - and grabbed a small box of Pringles. There was also a can of Red Bull in the bag, but since the aid stations had plenty of it and the Coke was working just as well, I decided to leave it. I was already looking classy enough with my chips and my bottle of pickle juice in hand.

Zin continued running "with" me for about 2km, then Wendy joined the party! I loved seeing both of them... and I was still so damn happy... My desire to sign up for another Ironman RIGHT THERE, RIGHT AT THAT MOMENT was consuming my brain. I almost didn't want it to end. I think I have a problem and no, it was not just temporary. I know what I'm talking about... it's now one month after the race and my fingers are still itching to grab the credit card out of my wallet.

With these silly thoughts in mind, I made it back to Mt Tremblant station where the crowds were loud and wild, already cheering on the Ironman finishers. I thought that starting the second loop was going to be hard, taking right instead of left just 50m from the finish line... But nope, I was on the roll and this party was all kinds of awesome! I was wondering if they had a disco ball at the finish... "You should be dancing, yeah!"

But back on the road, I felt lonely all of a sudden. The hills were looking meaner and steeper and my decision to walk them was starting to dread on me as my knee pain had returned and was at its peak whenever I was resuming the running. It was all manageable though and I was already looking forward to the flat section where I wouldn't have to stop.

I remember arriving on the trail with some daylight remaining, and almost wishing the photographers would still be there to capture us the "magic light". But nah, they were already gone and the lights were already turned on. Party poopers.

I drowned my sorrow in pickle juice. It tasted like heaven! No need to switch back to Coke until further notice, I could do just well with salt and vinegar. The nectar of the Gods, dudes!

I noticed that a lady was running close behind me and at some point she said that I was helping her to keep moving, or she would have stopped running a while ago... Now that was exactly what I/both needed, company to share the pain and the struggle. I asked her if the pace was ok and she said "perfect", but that she wanted to walk through the water stations... But of course, no problem with that, even though my knees preferred the relentless forward motion. I had a Tylenol 3 (codeine) with me in case things got really ugly, so that thought remained my safety net, along with the last minute mantra by Billy Ocean, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going" (read Part 1 for the background).

I learned that her name was Jane and that it wasn't her first Ironman, but at that particular moment, it was probably going to be her last. I wonder if she changed her mind since... ;-) It was definitely nice to have someone to chat with, and the kilometers went by one by one, rather uneventful. The night fell upon us way before the first turn around and it was dark in places and very quiet. Several times she felt bad for asking me to walk, but I kept reassuring her that it was no biggie. In a short delirious moment we even wondered if we could make it under 14h... but quickly abandoned the thought of being stressed by an arbitrary number. We knew that we still had a few hills ahead and most likely it was foolish to dream of significantly speeding up when we were actually fading down.

Once we reached the second turn around I told her that no matter what, we were going to stick together until the end. She asked me to promise her that I would run ahead and have my own moment at the finish line... That was a deal... if only I could still run by then. :-) The old village was now deserted, with only a few scattered people yelling at us "Lache pas!!" (don't give up), drinking beer in front of their houses. My own celebratory beer had to wait a little... Only 3 more kilometers... Wendy was there again, but I was out of words. The emotions were slowly taking over my tired self and I was dreaming of the finish line... Lights, music, Mike Reilly's voice, space blankets, and my family! I told Wendy that I was sorry for not being as talkative as before... But she knew and she didn't say a word. The pain in the knees was there in full force, but I was resolved not to take the T3 until after I become an Ironman. It makes it even more Ironman-er without drugs, right? Whatever my mind was tricking me into thinking, I was game. And tough, almost-Iron tough. Billy Ocean kind of tough (even though I wasn't looking for Jewels on the Nile).

As we were approaching the roaring crowds, I shared my mantra with Jane and she said, "isn't this a song by Billy Ocean"? What a woman, she knows her 80s too! It made me smile, just as we turned the corner onto the cobblestone path, surrounded by a sea of people. She said... go, go GO... and I RAN. High fives left and right. BEST FEELING EVER... and it only lasted a minute.. two maybe? I heard my name and Mike Reilly got it right!! Did he rehearse or what?! I raised my arms in the air and took half a second to savor being under the arch. I was still feeling like a million bucks.

Someone gave me a blanket, then I heard another familiar voice in the crowd. It was Zin with my mom and my boys. I walked over and gave them all big sweaty hugs.

A fleeting moment, and still a blur

Jane arrived a moment later and together we went to grab our medals and some food. Food, really? I didn't feel like eating any food! I put some fruits in my plate, but they tasted like ... nothing. My tastebuds had either left the building or the fruits were really that bad, I'll never know.

I talked to Jane for a minute, we exchanged Twitter handles (I still haven't found her since, I must have gotten it wrong), then Wendy came to sit with me... I drank my beer and ate some fries... I was definitely more thirsty than hungry. My body was feeling totally fine and I told myself, wow, I felt much worse after a standalone marathon. About 10 minutes later I was getting cold and wanted to see my family really bad. So I went to have my finisher photo taken, then met with my loved ones.

We went to pick up my bike, my bags, I put on some warmer clothes, we took the bus to the air field, then drove back to the cottage, where I went to sleep. The End. :-)

And what else is there to say? I DID IT. I AM AN IRONMAN.

I had an spectacular day and I am totally hooked. I smiled the whole time, I survived the pain, I made friends, I learned lots about my body and how it can handle the unknown. I found that the most important is to stay in the moment and just... enjoy. It may come easier to those who don't run after podiums or a time on the clock... and once I freed myself from expectations (about a minute in the swim, when I looked at the sky), I had a blast. From the first breath in the water, to the first pedal stroke, to the moment my soles hit the pavement, I kept reminding myself that this was just a long training day.

So I raced smart, I kept the heart rate down and my ego in check, I ate and drank regularly, and in the end... it really didn't feel bad at all.

Anyone can do an Ironman? Absolutely!! Stop doubting yourselves!

However, I could not have done it without the support of my family and friends, close and far. My Coeur tri kit did not disappoint (zero chaffing!!), my bike Trinity did not fail me, thanks to my best bike mechanic, my hubby. My ROKA wetsuit kept me warm and buoyant without excess tightness and panic attacks. My coach gave me a great plan and helped this 40 yr old body reach the level of fitness and endurance to do the unthinkable and for that I am extremely grateful as well.

I could not have asked for a better day. Will I do it again? OH YEAH!!!

(To read the whole shebang - follow the links for The Swim and The Bike)

Hamilton Road 2 Hope Marathon Race Report

Another year, another marathon, because life is too short not to go for more. The rest is between my shrink and I. Just that I haven't seen a shrink in many years, so I had to convince my coach that I needed to run this distance even after finishing a 70.3 triathlon instead. He didn't think it was a good idea because I am now officially training for the Ironman and I cannot afford any boo-boo's, but hopefully after this race he's accepted the fact that I may be an alien and that I'll survive outside of Area 51. Not only I had one of the best days in my life, but I also came out of it unscathed, without a single chaffing mark or blister. I even have all my toenails. Who am I?

Training wise, coach had to be creative and increase my mileage conservatively, while putting me in the best position mentally to run the distance. This is what my last month before the race looked like. I missed about 5% of workouts that he had scheduled (not on this page), but I tried to follow his plan the best I could and remain in tune with my body and not hesitate to take a day off when I didn't feel recovered.

Volume wise, it was nothing extraordinary, and certainly not your regular marathon training program with 20+ mile long runs and 40+ miles a week totals. Heck, I didn't even run more than 3 times a week, but I put all my energy in the LSDs, with some tempo thrown in the middle for extra fun (not!). I ran at least a half-marathon distance 5 weekends in a row, with very little taper in the end. And it worked.

Many of my friends were going to race as well, either in the full marathon (Carol, Mandy) or the half (Sam, Nicole, Patty, Emma, Amy). It was going to be a party! I knew that with such a company, I'd have enough inspiration surrounding me for weeks. Carol decided to spend the day before the race in Hamilton and I booked a hotel room as well, just minutes away from the finish line. This ended being the best decision ever. She and her mom came to pick me and my older son up around noon on Saturday. Roughly one hour later we arrived at the expo, but we only spent about 1h there as it was wet and cold and we needed to stay off our feet.

First tent: pick up bag, bib and chip.

Second tent: pick up tshirt and spend your money

I ended buying a Sugoi winter jacket because I had been looking for one for a long long time and I was glad to see it so heavily discounted. Then we stopped for a quick lunch and a cup of tea before heading for the hotel to unpack, rest and rewind.

Teenage sitcoms are the best for falling asleep

No name on the bib? Come'on!

The hours went by fast, then it was time for dinner. We went out to East Side Mario's where I had a generous plate of "make your own pasta" (fettucine and shrimp for me) and shared a slice of strawberry cheesecake with my son. It was satisfying to say the least.

Back to the hotel again, I prepared my stuff for the race: gels, puffer for my asthma, water and pickle juice bottles, fuel belt, bib, socks, gloves, buff, insulated tights, wool tshirt and Sugoi outer layer. The only big unknown, which plagued my brain for over a month, were the shoes. I had brought two pairs with me: a new pair of trustworthy Adidas Glide 2 (one of the three pairs that I had bought 2 years ago) and my new love affair, the K Swiss K-Onas in which I had trained most of the year and which quickly became the most comfortable pair of shoes that I owned. The Adidas were known to give me some blisters on the inside of my feet, but not a handicap for the marathon, while the K Swiss always left my feet impeccable, but I had never tried them on distances longer than 24km. Also, the K Swiss were much lighter than the Adidas, with a smaller heel drop as well. Were they going to kill my joints and calves over 42.2km? That was a risk I had yet to make my mind on.

We switched off the lights at 10:45pm and made sure that alarm clock was set on the iPhone (which was going to magically change time by itself at 2pm). I slept pretty well until 4:30am, then I tossed and turned until 6am, feeling more rested than anxious, thanks to the extra hour. Got up 2 minutes before the alarm and got ready for the 6:45am departure with Carol and her mom. Made myself a sandwich with butter and a few turkey slices and ate a banana. Put another banana in my throw away sweater's pocket and off I went. Just 30 seconds before getting out the door I put on my K Swiss shoes and decided not to over-think my last minute choice.

We were dropped at the starting line in some sort of recreation center with a full sized gymnasium and a few baseball fields around. We made our way inside the building and started looking for familiar faces. Eventually I found the #burlingtonskirtbrigade and Nicole who was sticking out like the one sane person out of the bunch. No offense, ladies, but skirts in -7C? Cuckoo, all of you! I love you anyway, but don't mind me if I call you the #burlingtonskirtasylum from now on.

From left to right: Amy, Emma, me, Sam, Patty and Nicole.

I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone else in here

We exchanged hugs and took a few pics, then we all went on a mission to find port-a-potties with no lineups. But guess what, no such luck. Carol and I ended sharing some bushes, which pretty much sealed our best friends for life status. (Psst, her bum is whiter than mine!)

As the starting time was fast approaching, I followed with some dynamic stretches and did a few accelerations and ABCs (not in the bushes!!), then joined the crowd for the national anthem. I placed myself just ahead of the 4:15 pacer, hoping for a final time between a 4:10 and 4:30. The magic pace for a 4:10 was 5:55min/km and I was hoping to stay on track for at least 30km, then adjust my expectations depending on how my body would feel. However, even a 1 min PR would have satisfied me if things were to turn sour.

A quick countdown and at 8am sharp the race started. There were some rollers right off the bat and I wasn't quite sure what my pace was since at km 1, the 4:15 pacer passed us. It seemed to me that I was going a bit fast, but I could not understand why the pacer was going even faster. I noticed that the first km was actually at 1.1km on my watch and realized that I was not going to rely much on my overall pace if the GPS was all over the map. So I eventually decided to hit the lap button whenever I'd run past a km marker and do a mental calculation to make sure I wasn't going slower than 6min/km. At least I knew that I could rely on my 6 multiplication table. Isn't school wonderful? Stick with it, kids, you never know when your GPS is going to fail you.

The view along Ridge road for the first 8km was absolutely spectacular. The sky was so clear, you could see Toronto and the whole GTA. I could not get enough of these sights and kept telling myself how this course was as beautiful as the County Half, minus the rain. I was in heaven.

The heart rate was a bit too high for my taste though. In high zone 4 (170+ bpm), I needed to bring it down a little. Hitting the lap button regularly helped, and I finally settled in a pace that seemed to gravitate around 5:55 as planned. Mandy caught up with us and for a moment I imagined us three crossing the finish line together in 4:10, just like we dreamed.

Carol in Mandy are in tune

Shortly after km 8, my phone shut down by itself. Right away I thought it died of cold, so I didn't even bother to resuscitate it. Alas it meant the end of the pictures for me. Pace was nice and steady, heart rate was coming down a little. I was running relaxed and enjoying every moment.

I ate my first gel between km 5-6 and drank a bit of water. I decided not to stop or take drinks at the aid stations unless really necessary. We made another turn after 10km, this time running along some corn fields. Still quiet and peaceful, I was keeping an eye on my pace, another on my heart rate. All systems a-ok! Around km 12 I took out my first homemade cereal bar and I ate it all (I made them smaller than usual though). Carol made a run to the bushes for a pee break and I slowed down a little, hoping that she'd catch up. 5 minutes later, there she was! Mandy had taken off and she looked pretty strong, so I wasn't even sure that I'd see her again that day.

Three kilometers later I hit my lap button as usual and noticed that the pace had dropped into the 6:05min/km. I told Carol that if we wanted to stay on 5:55 pace, we needed to speed up a little. We had done the first 10km in under 1h, I wanted to stay on track for the next 10, and the next. I pulled away just slightly, but I could still see Carol over my shoulder. I thought I'd need to pee sometime later as well, so I imagined that we'd lap each other a few times until the end. By km 18, I was hungry again. I ate another gel and downed it with some water. I think I took my first sip of energy drink at that water station because I heard someone saying Gatorade. Gatorade my ass, it was Honey Maxx. Some kids knew what they were talking about, others were totally off track. Anyway, I decided to stay away from the mystery drinks and stick with my own liquids.

I also ate an orange slice and that felt sooooo good, I wanted to run back and grab a handful! But then the Red Hill Valley Parkway (aka the death-to-your-knees downhill) came, I was way too happy to care. The whole time I wanted to stretch my arms out and yell "I'm the queen of the world"!! I made sure I ran in the middle of the road to make it my OWN.  I was also on my own from then on.

Thankfully a photographer was there to capture the moment. I believe I can fly... In the middle of this euphoria, I drank half of my pickle juice. My legs were a bit achy and the last thing I wanted to see was a cramp to take me down. I was having a great time on that highway, but I knew that all good times had to come to an end and eventually a ramp took me out of this rollercoaster and onto the city streets again.

But not for long, because to my surprise, the next part of the course was on a trail with a very nasty downhill and some weird bricks that made me go ouch ouch ouch, followed by a hill steeper than the stairmaster and the same weird bricks. To make sure I was not going to leave an ankle in the dirt, I walked those few steps up. I don't think anyone ran there, unless they had Achilles of steel. In retrospective, these were the only steps I walked during this marathon. I still cannot believe it. We were approaching the 30km marker and just after passing this funky bridge, I looked at my watch and got really excited to see that I was still on track and that I had just beaten my 30km PR by over 5 minutes with a time of 2:59.

As I approached the lake shore path, I started hearing the waves and got thankful again for being able to run without music and enjoy the nature's sounds instead. It was really amazing, not a single negative thought had crossed my mind until then. I ran on. I could see marathoners coming back already, which meant that they were only 2-3km away from the finish. Add another 10 for me. I noticed this funny guy in a Mario costume up on a bench and I started laughing. I had no idea that I was looking at Marlene who was there to cheer on her hubby! 

Soon enough, the path split and we were taken away from the beautiful sight of the lake and onto a residential area. Oh well, it was time to eat again. But first, the pickle juice. I finished my bottle, then let my stomach settle a little. A km later, the 4:15 pacer passed me and I knew that I was now running my regular long run pace of 6:15min/km and that I had to say bye bye to dream goal of 4:10. No biggie, I was feeling strong, no aches anywhere and the waves were just around the corner. I ate my last gel at km 35 and went back to drinking water.

Not long afterwards I returned on the "happy" path with the soothing waves. I was in la-la land and the idea of jumping in the lake for an ice bath after crossing the finish lane was a powerful mind numbing drug. I kept on running, but I never had to go to the dark corners of my brain. I saw the 40km sign and I remembered an Instagram picture that said that I was close. You bet!! I found enough energy to speed up and run the last 2km strong, bursting into a loud cheer across the finish line.

I DID IT!! I beat my PR by 18 minutes and finished in 4:17:19. This whole day was just perfect, what a treat!! Now I can rest and embrace the off season. Was it worth it? Absolutely! I had another chance to measure myself against the marathon distance and I am extremely happy that I raced smart and not unnecessarily aggressive, got my nutrition in at the right times and even adjusted my footing to fight stitches the few times they tried getting the best of me. Finally, after 2 bad marathons, I could fully enjoy the experience again. I don't promise that the next will be as pleasant as this one, but one thing for sure, I will try to keep my smile until I cross the finish line.

Geekery below:

Many many thanks to my coach David Jenkin who always comes up with the smartest training plans, that fit me perfectly and keep me injury free. One more PR to make you proud!!

Also, a million thanks to my husband Zin, my most dedicated cheerleader, who put up with me throughout the year and especially in the last weeks of this training cycle - we both know it wasn't easy! To my son Yanis who came with me to the race and cheered me on, and gave me his jacket when I was freezing cold. Love you, my son!

To Carol's mom who drove us around and invited us for dinner. You made our weekend so much easier!! Thank you for your generosity!

Last but not least, my friends online and in real life who share this passion with me and who provided me with a constant dose of inspiration to take me through the best and worst times this year. To many more PRs, BQs, high fives and running skirts - or not. You know who you are - Thank you!!!

And then it happened

I have been trying to write this post for a while, but I procrastinated, I told myself, I'll do it when I come back from Philly, I'll have a lot to talk about then. Good times, wonderful times, saw many old friends, made new ones. As usual, when people ask me why Philly is my favorite city in the US, I respond, because my favorite people are in it. Ain't that the truth? But I promised myself to dedicate a separate post to this trip, and this is not the one.

So I came back and before I could recollect all the happy thoughts, I was let go at work. "We are making changes in the company" they said, the dismissal was quicker than I could count to ten, and then I was left signing papers, then walked out with my most important items brought from my desk in a bin. Brutal. Dehumanizing. Disappointing, for someone who has done so much for the company. Not even a Thanks, that's what hurt the most. Disposable. Superfluous. But then I picked up my ego from the floor and went home, relieved. The End. The Beginning of Something New and Exciting awaits.

For a few days I was in constant turmoil, the 12 stages of rebuilding the confidence lost, from sadness, to anger, to "whatevah", to hope, to anxiety and eventually to calm and focus. I am now gathering the courage to go out there and face the questions, the tests, and all those strangers who I need to convince that I am worthy of a paycheque.

On Monday, a new routine was shaping up: wake up, have breakfast with the boys, send them to school, do the dishes, have a shower, tweak my resume for the millionth time, look for jobs on LinkedIn, update my profile, apply to jobs, check out Facebook and Twitter. I was cheering on my friends that had gone to run the Boston marathon and I was thankful for the live feed that allowed me keep in sync with the happy frenzy of it all.

And then the unthinkable happened. White smoke, cameras shaking, people being thrown to the ground by a powerful blast, the same images coming through all media and social networks and the fear creeping up our spine. How many more bombs? How many wounded or dead? Who? Why? Questions that have yet to find answers. I was in disbelief. Our running tribe attacked, lives shattered. All of a sudden, the news of my job loss seemed totally irreverent. I went numb again, a powerful headache took over my brain and lasted for 2 days. It hurt in ways I could not imagine, yet this feeling of belonging, drew me back in and I joined the movement, to #RunForBoston and to tell those motherfuckers that I am not afraid. Yesterday I wore my Around the Bay tshirt in Boston colors, the bright blue and yellow and went out for a long 15k run. I let the thoughts and feelings run free through a free mind. I will not stop. And one day, I will run Boston too. For all the lives lost, the little 8yr old Martin Richard, the volunteers, the first responders, the runners and their families and any marathon enthusiast, Bostonian or not, who needs someone to cheer on. My name is Irina, and I will run Boston (even though I have a long way to go and much sweat and tears to shed to get there).

Below are a few words of wisdom, quotes from my Twitter friends that got me through the day and inspired me to stay strong and keep fighting for our tribe.

Last but not least, you should read this excellent article by Ezra Klein: "If you are losing faith in human nature, go watch a marathon" - Kathryn Switzer

STWM Official Pictures

Rainy day

The Empire Sandy and I

Somebody's having a blast

Hurting a little, maybe

I'm not too happy either

Almost there!

Finished, at last!

For the race report, go here. Not my best race, but another one that I finish with a smile on my face. Mission accomplished. ;-)

Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon 2012 Race Report

My "A" race, eh? This one should go down in history as the race that almost wasn't. And there isn't much that I could have changed anyway - I just wasn't ready for a breakthrough yet, even though after completing my longest run in which I muscled my willpower through 32km non stop, solo and in unknown territory, I was feeling like a champ, ready to conquer the world. But then, in the middle of my taper, I made a choice, that was entirely mine, to run for 1h30 in minimalist shoes because they were feeling so damn good. Never thought for a second that I'd do more damage than my body and mind could handle. The last week before the marathon was agonizing. A nagging pain remained in my calves and no massage, compression, icing, resting or stretching ever made it better. For an entire week, it felt exactly the same every day, always there, always reminding me of my stupid decision, and because of it, I ended giving myself for the first time ever, a significant handicap at the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon starting line.

Wet morning at STWM

The night before I only slept about 3h, after nightmares full of fear of doing more damage, fear of not finishing, fear of not even starting kept me awake, questioning everything and especially myself. Even though my massage therapist reassured me that I was not injured per se, she told me that I should not be expecting a miracle, that I was going to hurt. So I wrote this on my cap as a mantra to take me through the day. 

Mantra of the day

Then a friend reminded me that adrenaline is a powerful drug and with that tiny speck of hope, I managed to close my eyes and dream, at least for a second, that I would cross the finish line at STWM.

Woke up at 5:30am and decided to take yet another risk, to wear for the first time ever, a skirt. If I was going to hurt, at least I wanted to try look "ridiculously photogenic". And since I am very familiar with chaffing in all kinds of places, I also decided to put my Sugoi tri short underneath and my long compression Nike soccer socks. The temperature was going to be between 15-20 degrees Celsius, so I figured that I would have cooked in tights. As to the rain and wind, no big deal. Grabbed breakfast, my fuel belt, my hubbs by the hand and off we went. We stopped on our way to pick up Carol who was going to do the half distance (yay for her comeback!), then we drove downtown where we spent a huge amount the time just to exit the highway. Found a parking lot at about 1.5km from the starting line, wrapped ourselves in plastic bags as it was raining pretty hard, then had a  coffee and a pee break and finally walked over to the corrals where we found the 4:10 pace bunny. 

Pace bunny - he was great, right on pace!

My best buddy

Me and my goof

Just as we waited for the gun, the rain stopped and we snapped a picture, then with a good luck kiss, we started our journey on the streets of Toronto. It was going to be hubbs' first marathon ever, and my third. The plan was going to run with the 4:10 pacer for as long as I could, then fall back if needed with the 4:25. My goal was still to finish with a PR despite the pain, which at that moment was nowhere to be found, thanks to the adrenaline rush. The magic number, 5:55/km, 30sec/km faster than my longest run. For 18km, it felt like NO effort, nice and relaxed, I was in the zone, chatting, smiling, laughing at hubbs who was putting on a show. The calf pain started to come back around km 10, but it was not really bothering me, I could definitely handle it. I was taking in fuel on the watch, Gu Chomps alternating with Clif Chocolate Gels, washing them down with water or Gatorade, just as I had trained for. Then all of a sudden and without any apparent reason, I felt like a balloon deflating and before I knew it, I was running 6:30-7:00/km. I could see the 4:10 pacer, our group and hubbs getting farther and farther away and no matter how much I was telling my legs to move faster, they just decided they were going to take a break. By the time I hit km 20, I was almost going to take the shortcut towards the half marathon finish line, it was the quick way out, to end it right there with a PR on the half. 

That thought was so alluring, I had to take the notorius HTFU out of the hat (literally) for the first time that day and stick to the plan. However, for the following 5-7km, my pace kept on dropping and I was getting increasingly thirsty. So I started drinking 1-2 cups at each aid station and pouring one on my head another on my back. I started feeling like I was overheating from inside out. And then at km 28, the sharp stomach pain came and I could no longer breathe, unless I was going to walk. Believe me, I tried, I was still going strong in that noggin of mine. For the next 8-9km I had to keep on doing just that, run for as long as I could bear the pain in my stomach, then walk it out. It was really depressing to see the 4:25 and 4:40 pacers passing by, but there was no way in hell I could keep up with them, I tried, twice again. Legs were feeling fine, pain in the calves was no worse than before, blisters almost non existent. There was nothing else but my diaphragm spasms staying between me and my PR. Oh well. It was again, because of me, taking in too many fluids, and I knew it, yet I also knew that I was supposed to listen to my body and not let the dehydration sneak in. I could feel dizzy at times, and that scared me, but looking back, I am not even sure it was because of too little drinking or too much of it.

Thankfully, once I reached km 37, the stomach pain went down to a level where I could run through it with little discomfort. I decided to stop eating and binge drinking and make a final run for it. I knew I could handle a 30 minute sustained effort. My speed increased again, with each km, I was getting closer to the pace that I started at. I was feeling good at last, watching the sky scrapers and the CN Tower getting closer and closer as I was running down Eastern Ave, wind drying the water off my face and top. When I reached km 40, I was flying. I had to keep my concentration high so I don't twist an ankle on the tramway tracks, but the energy of the city, the countless people screaming my name, it was such a great feeling to take in, that a huge smile installed itself across my face and did not let go of me until I crossed the finish line, in the longest, most rewarding sprint so far.

I finished in 4:49:24, my worst time in 3 marathons this year, but with a smile on my face, which is the most important.

When you get to face the darkness of your mind, and you manage to came out of the battle unscathed, it is a brave thing. I think I am finally getting better at this. I may not have set a PR as I had hoped, but I learned a few more things about myself along the way. I had my best half marathon and my best 30km split, despite feeling devoid of energy at times and my diaphragm getting upset with my drinking habit. Now I know exactly what to work on - holding that magic 5:55/km pace. This is going to be my goal for the ATB 30km in March. Meeting the grim reaper will never feel better, I will become a faster, stronger dinosaur. Uh, sorry... cheetah?

Last but not least, I must mention that unlike me, hubbs had the best race possible. He finished strong in 4h05, never stopped running, never stopped smiling. He managed his pace and fueling like a champ and I am the proudest wifey in the world for seeing him taking up this challenge and even better, having fun along the way. First marathon and he CRUSHED IT. To many more!!

Marathon us

Here is my Runkeeper, fed by Garmin. My hubbs' run can be found here.

And before I go... what happened to my calf pains? The endorphins may still be lingering, but for now they are gone. Magically, yes. I have no other explanation, unless they are waiting for the quads pain to go away in order to make a more dramatic comeback. Maybe it was all in my head after all...

Mississauga Marathon Photos

Zoomphoto did a great job this year capturing people's efforts in completing personal challenges at the Mississauga Marathon. I was surprised to see that they took over 60 photos of me which I bought as a digital download since I liked them very much, for once. Here are a few of them, I suggest to click on the first and walk through them as a slideshow.

You can see the rest of the photos here.