...we should choose our running partners wisely...

** this is a yearly reminder to enjoy the most simplest things in life...from my most favourite Mile Marker by Kristin Armstrong -- it has become so applicable in so many facets of my life.  Jon sent it to me over our first Christmas together, and it makes me cry, every time**

"Once during a run with my friend, I repeated myself during our conversation and we realized how funny we were, and could not stop laughing.  I am not sure the exact point she started plucking or colouring grays, or exactly when I could no longer read the text on my Blackberry without my glasses, but it’s happening. 

This exchange brought about a good laugh, but also an important perspective.  Aging can be a b*#ch, but it’s the people we age with who make it bearable, worthwhile, even funny.  Think about it – she hates her gray sprigs, while I can’t see them.  This type of exchange with a running partner works out great…

All this to say that we should choose our running partners wisely, because they become our friends and eventually become like family, and then we grow old together…

Maybe instead of dating (which I dislike and quite probably am terrible at – I don’t do it often enough to know for sure) which has hefty implications of looking for marriage material, I should think of it more like choosing a running partner.  You know, more casual.  Trying a short run first, so there is no time commitment if our paces don’t match or conversation falls flat.  Then if that goes okay, maybe a longer run, or another short run with coffee afterward, eventually leading to breakfast.  Over time we night have a regular meeting time, a standing run.  If I sometimes opted to run with him over my sweat sisters, some eyebrows would lift, but in a goo way.  We can talk and run side by side, sharing more personal things without the added weight of eye contact.  We can tackle some hill, and see how it feels to suffer and say nothing, taking turns with a pull.  We could disagree, run off steam, try to talk about it later, post-sweat, when we are both better people.  We could take a big step, and sign up for a race together – in the future.  This makes the presumption that there is a future, or at least the potential to visualize one, and we could come up with a plan.  We could train together.  We could mix up long runs, easy runs, hilly runs, interval runs, tempo runs.  We could see good days and not so good days.  Eventually the newness would wear off and then we’d get to see the good stuff – the moods, the grouch, the sullen, the snippy, and uncertain.  But it would be bearable. Because we would be moving in the same direction.  We would give each other the gift of time.  It would always be okay, because there are always more miles.

That’s what I’m thinking for me (Santa, are you listening? I’ve been a pretty good girls this year).  A running partner (can you make him smart, and cute and tall with a killer sense of humour?!!) who eventually becomes a friend.  Which later fees like family. And then we grow old together."

Mississauga Marathon - May 5, 2013

WE DID IT!!!!

I guess I should start from the beginning...from Friday onwards, we were communicating on a regular basis, over Facebook, in regards to the smallest things - bib/race kit pick-up in Mississauga -- Laurie was able to go during the day, Melinda and I (with Jon) had to go after work, fighting traffic and armed Police Officers at the arena checking our backpacks upon arrival, sadly reminding us of the traumatic events that took place in Boston only a few weeks ago.

On Saturday, reviewing the weather forecast over and over, juggling back and forth on what to wear, Melinda trumps us all by sporting her DIY run singlet, complete with tremendous support for her husband and others she knows fighting Colon Cancer, as well as a tribute to the runners and residents of Boston! Great job Melinda :)
The remainder of Saturday was spent doing pretty well nothing.  We dropped Logan off at Karate and took Sadie to the vet in the morning - made sure we had a full tank of gas for Sunday morning.  Went home, ate pasta, drank gallons of water (continous over the past week), as well as napped later in the afternoon -- I succumbed to the itch, and zipped out for some flowers/plants to get the front porch planters started - it was just too nice a day to spend completely on my butt.  We also took Sadie to the dog park, to make up for the hours she would spend in her crate on Sunday morning.

Off to bed at a reasonable hour, after last-minute 'chats' on Facebook again with Melinda and Laurie.  Surprisingly, although it did take a little longer to fall asleep, I slept very well, even with getting up at 2am to let Sadie out.  5am came quickly, but I wasn't tired - rather, giddy and ready to get going!
En route, we made a pit-stop at a Tim's -- cleanest bathroom's you'll find on marathon morning ;)
Met up with Laurie and Angela at Square One not 20 minutes later to organize race bag transfer -- quick kisses my love Jon, who knew he'd be finishing much sooner than the three of us, as he ran off to pass off his race bag.

Laurie and I managed another quick (and clean!) pit-stop at Walmart that just opened minutes before our arrival, then headed to the corrals, all the while keeping our eyes open for Melinda, who we began to fret, wouldn't hook up with us.  Not surprisingly, like women, we all planned and remembered our iPods/iPhones, in case we got separated during the run, and need the extra encouragement along the way.
We found Melinda after standing in the corrals for about 10 minutes, with less than 10 minutes left to race start! Whew!  We also stood for a moment, and thought of Lisa, who we had hoped would join us, after much teasing, and a complimentary race entry courtesy of Melinda, who had her own family/life event marathon to run on Sunday -- Lisa, we thought of you often on our run, during the good moments, but moreso during the challenging -- you pushed us through, without even being there, and we all hope to be able to help push you when we can all run 26.2 together.

The gun went off, and we crossed the start line just less than 2 minutes later (I remember there being more people when I ran 13.1 there in 2010...).  The first 10k went very well, on pace, great temperatures, great company.  At the split for the half marathon group vs the marathoners, we mildly thought 'how nice to be 5k from the finish for them.....' (little did we know, we actually meant it!).  Just past 15k, Melinda's husband Bill, his family, and Melinda's nephew James cheered us on from the front yard of their home -- 9-year-old James even braved the old ladies, and ran with us for nearly 1km -- great job young man, and super to have the encouragement along the way!

At 21k, we were just mildly off pace, but it would still have hit a 1/2 marathon PB for me at 2:16 -- still felt good, and realized it was time for a pit-stop - we ran as far as the course took us 'out' of Mississauga heading west, and turned around just close to 25k.  At that point, we rationalized, just 15k more to go, which, on any regular day, would be just 15k.  Not today.  We started counting down water stations, which came to us every 2km - just 7 more!!  At 32k, although aches started to set in, but good.  Sore knees, sore hips, Melinda's 'schrapnel ankle' began to set in seriously, as well as Laurie's leg injury, only extending into her hip instead.  Although mentally we were fine, and pleased to report, no slurring of words yet....or we were slurring, and managed to understand each other ;)
I think I can safely say, that although none of us hit 'the wall' (yuck, thank you two bags of pasta on Saturday),

and our minds and hearts were still quite capable of going, our bodies were getting tired.  Perhaps I will be forgiven by Laurie and Melinda when I say we may have been getting a little 'edgy' with each other - not nasty, or rude, just much more verbally open with our challenges, shall we say...Lisa, this is where you came into full effect.  We didn't thoroughly discuss what heartache you had overcome the past couple of months, or of the challenges you too were facing yesterday, but we thought of you often, not only as inspiration to your strength, but of how we could also' hear' you say "I don't I can go further," and feel exactly how you would have -- we felt your presence - you were beside the three of us all day, and we needed you there -- thank you for keeping us going!

At 37k, the girl watching us on the sideline in a neighbourhood, leaning on her road bike said, that was the last hill (as we reached the top of the trail 'hill'), when only to turn the corner, was a long downhill, followed by an even longer uphill...and by uphill, I mean incline, much much gentler than Gordon Street hill - but at 37k, it was a hill :) 
Skirting back in through neighbourhoods, and around the lakeshore park trails was a treat -- the course, in general was quiet, and scenic, with a great bit of a breeze coming in off the water during the last (long) 7km.  We hit the 40k mark, only to find the 2km runners starting to line up for their 'fun run' to the Finish Line as well.  The last 2km were the longest.  We afforded ourselves walk breaks throughout, Laurie's hip almost giving out, Melinda's ankle aching, and my right knee screaming for a rest.  Sadly enough, as we all knew, walking was harder than running at that point (well, from about 36km onwards).  Rather, let me clarify, walking was good, re-starting the run was terrible.  If you have ever witnessed an arthritic, elderly individual attempting slowly to walk with their walker, that is what it felt like. And yes, each of us groaned loudly while re-starting a run, after a walk break.

Hearing the announcer at the Finish Line at that point was motivating, and seeing the finish line while running the bay around to get to it was fabulous to see.  As I was moving forward, I passed Angela, only catching sight of her in my peripheral vision while, like mumbling, I said "Laurie's right behind me,' then further as I saw Bill waiting for Melinda, though my mumble was likely less audible...I took a final quick walk break (about 20m) so that I could 'pose' a strong'er' finish at the line -- coming out of the pine trees, the balloon covered finish line was in my sights.  I knew Jon was going to be there - my rock, my love, finished his marathon easily nearly 1.5hours before we arrived.
I ran, with all my little heart and sore knee could muster, to that finish line, like it was a 5k race -- it felt SO good to see the Finish, to cross it, and to still feel like smiling (although surely, it came out as a grimace).

I had a moment to cross-over to Jon for a long-awaited kiss - I felt so proud to be able to finish, and for him to be there: it's taken me a long time (3 years after meeting him) to muster up the courage to be able to withstand the training, and get my butt on a race course to finish 26.2.  See my love, I did it.!!
I turned around immediately to find Melinda and Laurie cross the line just behind me :)

 

To say we were proud, was an understatement.  Salty, tired, achy and vowing not to run again for many days (earned, mind you!), we finished. 

 

 

We finished because we worked for it, we trained hard in the snow and sleet, on long runs and short, up hills, with and without each other.  We trained when we didn't want to, and we ran through life events and hardships throughout the winter.  We ran for our own personal goals, we ran for each other, and we ran for Lisa. We did it!

 

Week in Reflection

As runners who have run, have a Bucket List goal to run, or a lifelong dream to run (as for some of us, that is all it will ever be), the Boston Marathon last week, and the events within it, have hit a nerve within us all in some way.

Jon and I know many individuals, runners and their friends/families, who were there, in the midst of the turmoil. We spent almost 6 hours scrambling on the internet, Facebook and emails, doing our best to salvage some scrap of communication from them all, just to know they were safe, the race itself no longer important.  Although I can only imagine how heartbreaking it was for so many to come so close to the finish line, and not be able to finish,  I am not sure I will ever be able to understand how terrified they and their loved ones must have felt in the face of such tragedy. 
We in Guelph were very relieved to hear everyone in our 'running family' was safe.
Having stood with our four children and my mother-in-law no more than 100m away from the very spot of the tragedy in Boston, while anticipating Jon crossing the Finish Line only one year ago, the relief translated itself into tears for me.

This week for many of us, marked the beginning of taper time in anticipation for running either the Toronto Goodlife Marathon, or Mississauga Marathon, both on May 5th -- apropos perhaps to the events in Boston, it gave us time to reflect not only on what had occurred with our friends, but also on ourselves, and how our training has gone, how runs were completed, where we can envision ourselves on race day in a couple of weeks (well, 12 days to be exact...).

It gave us time to reflect on our hill training, our long runs, our relationships with our running partners and larger group of running friends, but also with our partners, spouses and families - to how supportive they have been of us during this long process of training for a marathon - how tired we are five out of seven days of the week, and the one 'recovery' day after the long run, even more tired still.  How understanding they have been of our needs, our goals, our accomplishments (some minor, but present nonetheless), and how helpful they have been during times of illness, recovery from injuries, family challenges and tragedies, and just plain tolerance of the new people we are morphing into as we become 'runners.'

Along with the events at the Boston Marathon, this week was further punctuated by a very dear member of our running family passing away after fighting a remarkable battle with Inflammatory Breast Cancer for almost 3 years.  As a Palliative home care nurse in my younger years, hearing of Lynn's move to our local Hospice late last week put tears in my eyes, 'knowing' that once an individual moves to Hospice, their time with us is not long.  Lynn transferred there on Thursday, and we were notified, with already heavy hearts, that she passed away on Monday morning.  Lynn's smile, strength and compassion will be remembered by countless many in the running community - her husband David an icon in Guelph, known to run our local Bootcamp sessions year-round. 

As our running 'partners' and our friends/families have done for us, we, as a running family must now, and always, step up to support our own, as and whenever they need it.  No, we may not be eloquent speakers (or bloggers...), or know the right thing to say, but much like 'what happens on the long run, stays on the long run,' we hope they know we are *always* there to listen. 
In the magnitude of the two events that happened this past week, both 'running nation-wide' and within our running family here in Guelph, taper-time has given us all some time to be able to reflect on how fortunate we are to have what we have -- the support and love of our immediate families and circle of friends, but also for the strength within our running family -- we encourage, persist for and support each other, like a true family.  If it takes carrying one of our own and pushing them across the Finish Line before we cross seconds afterwards, or extra time listening on a long run, then that's what we do.

A Day on the Beach...

I find it a little unusual that now having run a 27-32k run every weekend for the past five...including Around the Bay...that a) my injuries are almost non-existent (shhh, touch wood...), and b) that, although the distances have increased each weekend, I don't seem to feel the same level of soreness and ache the following day...could it be that I'm becoming a 'runner?'

I've come to finally be able to not only embrace the distance of the long run, endured and shared with friends week after week, but also seemingly, am better able to manage it physically afterwards.  As usual, we met at the Boathouse parking lot just outside of downtown...from there, we have measured loops for our runs, ranging from 5km around the corner from Janine's house, to 7km at the edge of Riverside Park, to a full 12k loop lapping around Exhibition Park, always returning back to the Boathouse for our precious water, Gatorade, and nutrition before embarking on yet another loop.

This week, it was the four of us, ready to help each other as we each needed running along.  Janine came to the Boathouse, Lisa slipped in at the last minute with John, and Laurie popped over the bridge, just minutes from home as well -- we were missing Melinda, as she is on a much needed vacation with her husband this week. 

As runners poured in from all over the city, hours before most people even fathom getting out of bed on a Sunday, we had a few moments to discuss each other's weekly routines, challenges, good news...and bad, and encourage each other on the journey of distance we were about to go on.  A few runners peeled off after 10-15km due to other commitments and Sunday plans, and Laurie and I continued on.  We had fully hoped (and expected?) to complete a 34km route...loops, over and over, but the weather was not terribly cooperative yesterday.  Admittedly, yes, we all conversed on Facebook only moments before leaving our homes, and yes, we did actually type that we considered returning to bed upon rising and seeing dark clouds and rain, but yes, we also bit the bullet, pulled on our capris, and headed out to the Boathouse, so as not to disappoint each other, but also, to be accountable to our goals.  Darn right we all wanted to slip back under warm covers with our loved ones curled up next to us...but we didn't, because as wonderful as it is to 'sleep in,' it is a much greater feeling to come home at noon knowing you accomplished (mostly) what you had wanted to...

The wind was angry on this day, my friend...by the time Laurie and I looped ourselves silly around Guelph, as announced by Lisa early that morning, the winds were gusting at 40km/hr!  This is how I felt running down Wellington Street on our final 2km back to the Boathouse....and likely looked no better!

Hips achy, feet sore, hamstrings singing "I need a shower," we were ready to finish for the day -- with winding trails mixed in with road, Laurie and I finished up 32.4km - yes, I unabashedly add the extra 0.4km as at this point, every little bit counts. Although fitness-wise, it is, at times, still a challenge for me to talk while running (I know Coach Blair, 'if you can't talk, you're running too fast'), Laurie is a great listener -- thank you for 'what happens on the long run, stays on the long run,' although admittedly, all of  us have heard each others stories, and helped encourage the other in our day-to-day challenges.
In prepping for Mississauga Marathon, I think we have been continually asking ourselves, "Can we do this?"  Could we have run another 10km yesterday, and finished a marathon distance of 42.2km?  Seemingly hard to admit, but I think yes.  With four weeks to go (27 days actually, not that I'm counting...), I think I could have.  We are not looking to break any records, and as it's our first time, all of us, our goal is to finish (somewhat) gracefully.  Sure, we likely all each have an internal time goal, unspeakable to the others, but we will run together, and we will finish together. 


The only thing we four still can't fathom, is how Melinda managed to get up, let alone finish her long run while here.....we hope you're having a wonderful time Mel, you two have earned it!!

Around the Bay 30k

So, yes, it's been a while -- the last couple of weeks started becoming a blur as Around the Bay loomed closer.  More frequent runs (5-6 per week), more hills, more run course scrutinization and fretting....and course, everyone and everything else we manage on a day-to-day basis -- four happy & active children, one non-stop puppy, two full-time jobs, and two full-time runners -- admittedly, that can almost be the biggest challenge of all, both of us fitting in our runs to sufficiently suit our training needs, or quite simply, to feed our desires for clarity with an outdoor run. Balance and support for our life is found in each other.

The weather on Sunday was perfect, sunny skies and slightly cool temperatures, which brought about the scattered decision-making on what to wear - for almost 4 months, all my weekend long runs have been run in either rain, sleet or snow...to wake to a sunny morning, with the promise of running without gloves, hat, neck warmer, double pair of tights, or warmer jacket was a small victory in itself.

To have communicated with our running group in advance - having chosen a location at Copps Coliseum where we would meet, collect our thoughts, voice our last minute needs and apprehensions, and slowly make our way out to the corrals, was another gift -- there is nothing like spending the last few minutes easing your way to the Starting Line, knowing all your running friends are there with you, feeling the same things you are. The same friends who have shared those long runs with you, who have run up and down Gordon Street hill with you - who unknowingly share their energy and daily determination.

Waiting for the gun to go off, shoulder to shoulder with Laurie, Lisa and Melinda...and 7,000 other runners, was a great feeling!  It was both calming and exciting to have my friends with me.  How could anything go wrong when you spend 3 hours with people whose company you enjoy - who's running pace matches yours, who know your weakness and can give you that extra boost if they sense you faltering....and vice versa.  It was a "I've got your back," without ever having to say it out loud.

Mel and I managed to (what felt like) zip through the first 10k without much issue -- a run which, months ago, would have had me psyching up for days before-hand.  In fact, up to 17k and the dreaded life-bridge - generally, not the worst thing a runner can come up against, but for those of us who are not keen on walking over 'see-through' areas, such as man holes on the street, or say, a lift bridge in the middle of a long run, the experience was less than enjoyable.

Around 23k, I started feeling the effects of running far...during an event...with more adrenalin pumping than usual.  Achy lower/inner left calf, sore right second toe, and a vague naggy-feeling that it was a little more challenging keeping my breathing up to pace.  Mel is a beast when it comes to keeping pace -- she doesn't let down, not even a little (for which I will thank her for later)!

At 25.5k or so, you zip well downwards on the course, finally savouring a moment of gravity...a short jaunt over a little bridge then brings you to the "Heartbreak Hill" of Hamilton. While it admittedly doesn't look like much in a photograph, the 1.5k of continuous upward running (with no sight of the top of the hill due to it's continuous bends), it is a force to be reckoned with when you're so close, yet so tired. I cannot lie, I did walk approximately half of hill, in run/walk combinations.  I would have thought with all the training on Gordon Street hill...

At the top of Heartbreak Hill, you heart literally can break.  You can see the 27k marker about 300m away, and remember as you drove by it that morning while heading towards a parking spot, that you thought "okay, the hill, then **just** 3km more..." Right.  3k which never seems to move you closer to the finish line, even though you can, from there, see Copps Coliseum waiting for you.  With a goal of finishing under 3:30, I knew I had a few minutes 'to spare,' but didn't want to 'relax' too much.  As you catch your breath, and steel yourself for the last leg of the race, you also have to contend with this guy, affectionately known as the Grim Reaper.

The fans along the way are great -- from those in robes and Tim Horton's coffee cups in hand during the first 5k of the race, to those banging pots and pans at the lift bridge/16k, and those in the neighbourhoods along North Shore Boulevard in Burlington, DJ'ing, dancing, cheering, holding up signs, and rhythmically banging drums on a lonely corner at 23k.  They are there, they are cheering, they are truly in awe of what we are doing...and why we are doing it.

Coming into Copps Coliseum is a great way to finish -- you run from the outdoors, and finish inside:

You can hear the crowds in stands - friends, family, all the runners who finished earlier in the race -- yelling, cheering, ringing bells...and the announcer, and your blinding view of the timing board you've been waiting to see all morning.
And if you're like me, the relief of finishing a run of such distance (to your previous longest race of 21.1k), you have tears in your eyes.  Your breath catches as you come across that line, surely giving you the worst 'finish photo' in history.  You're chocked up, your legs are tired, your heart is full - something's going to give.
Not only are you excited to see the Finish Line, but, you can also watch yourself finish on the big screen above the timing mats.

As you are guided to the corrals for nutrition and, more importantly, medals, you can see you family and friends cheering for you up in the stands -- per chance even garner a kiss from your wonderful, supportive spouse who waited patiently, the hour after his finish to watch you come in.  I was happy and tired, soaked in my own tears, salty from ear to ear, and grinning like an idiot.

I'm going to get my medal. I earned it.

27k - ready for ATB.

Even with the clock change for daylight savings, we were up and at the Boathouse to meet with the 'usual suspects,' bright and early at 8:30am.  Not many seemed bleary eyed from an hour 'less' sleep :)  Met up with Lisa and ran with her and Melinda -- we will now be a group of four to run Around The Bay together in two weeks - missed you Laurie, sorry work got in the way. Aches & pains and stories to tell - small hills, bigger hills, hills we (shhh) walked a couple of times, puddles that grew smaller as our run progressed throughout the morning -- ladies from all over town (& Cambridge), together for a common goal, a common love.  Each supporting each other on, every step of the way - of course, support included moaning about our achy hips, sore ankle, chipped bones in our worn bodies, thick sliced whole-grain bread grilled cheese sandwiches, burgers, steak & sweet potato fries, quinoa burgers slathered in Tzatziki...race goals & aspirations...and stretches...oh, lots of stretches after about 20k -- womens hips are lovely, as women, but not so lovely while running -- hip flexors were tight, then hamstrings started to feel tight...sigh, and apparently, I'm running a marathon in May too ;) 'tis a long road, and there will be tears of accomplishment at the finish (LOL, likely at ATB as well - bring kleenex ladies!) -- I'll have worked many months just to get to Mississauga - and will enjoy the finish like a fine wine -- and yes, like a marathon-newbie, I will wear my first marathon medal all week :)

Home with my love after our run, who easily finished up 1/2 hour before me (thank goodness for dry clothes & extra Gatorade in the car).  Basked in a long, hot shower together, and treated ourselves to this breakfast: Mini Bacon Egg Cups -- wow, first time we've had any bacon since last summer...worth the wait!

Going to splurge with a brief nap this afternoon, then out for a long walk at the dog park, with our dog Sadie.
A beautiful sunny day, started in each others arms, then running with good friends, a little time for 'us', and ending with a house full our wonderful children & Sadie this afternoon -- life is good :)

Hannah to swim 5k to raise funds for the Guelph Marlins!!

Hannah Wojcicki - Raise-A-Thon - Guelph Marlin Aquatic Club /P Swim-A-Thon 2013

Please consider sponsoring my little athlete-in-the-making, Hannah (12 years old) in her efforts to raise funds for her competitive swim club, the Guelph Marlins.  On March 22/13, she and the rest of the Guelph Marlins will be swimming 5km to raise funds for better training and timing equipment!!