Looking back now with 20/20 hindsight, I think an obsession with time stopped me from running marathons for almost 10 years, all because I improved my best marathon time by 4 minutes and 32 seconds.
Now that I have completed my first ultra-trail marathon, I have had a “revelation” and my obsession with time is gone. Be warned, I will be rambling quite a bit about the ultra.
Here’s how it went down…
August 1999 – Québec City
This was my first marathon. It was the closest one as in 1999 there were no marathons in Montreal. I had signed up for New York City in February and was really nervous so why not do a “practice” marathon before New York?
Even back then, I wanted to break 4 hours. It did not matter it was my first. It did not matter that I had no clue what I was doing. I was going to try. Well, I hit the “wall” around 32 km and was walking, staggering to the finish line and got a time of 4:21:06. I was ecstatic to finish the marathon but still nagging in my head was the goal to go below 4 hours.
November 1999 – New York City
Ok, this was my “real” marathon. My training went well between Quebec City and today. I felt great. I was going to break 4 hours. However, during the race something happened. The NYC marathon goes through every borough in the city. It starts on Staten Island, then to Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan, Bronx and finishes back on Manhattan in Central Park. Every step of the way, there are people lining up cheering you on. I could not run 5 steps without someone cheering me on. I was smiling all the way and simply just enjoying what I was seeing and feeling. End result: 4:06:01 but I ran the whole course did not hit the wall.
May 2000 - Ottawa
Ok… fun times are over. I was going to get serious. I mean 6 minutes. I can drop 6 minutes off my time. So a mild winter and lots of training later, here I was in Ottawa. Back then it was a 2 lap course. I started great at 5:30/km… at got 1:51:45 at the half. I was all smiles. Knowing that 5:40/km was the key average pace and I did not want to hit the wall on the 2nd half I kept it at 5:40/km, “knowing” I had a small buffer in case. Well, I started feeling tired almost a few kilometres into the 2nd half. Ok I thought… 5:50/km and I can still average out. I was still slowing down and getting very tired. I never hit the wall but I was slowed down enough. End result: 4:03:02. I hit a personal BEST. That put a smile on my face for a while, but once again, the nagging 4 hour demon was still floating in my mind.
September 2000 - Schroon Lake, NY
What the hell was I thinking?? No one told me that rolling hills affect your marathon time. Schroon Lake was small country roads with nice rolling hills, beautiful scenery with chirping birds and an occasional spectator. My thoughts at the time: Wonderful marathon… crappy time 4:32:27.
August 2001 – Québec City
Ok… I took the winter off. Come spring, I did the some serious hill training at Mount Royal once a week. I was supposed to do the Marathon by Sea in Saint John New Brunswick but I planned my vacations wrong so at the last minute I signed up for Quebec City. I knew the course well. I took my time in the first half, keeping my energy for the final half. It went GREAT! I got my goal!! 3:58:31. Happy dance all around for a few weeks.
My priorities changed a lot around that time. I had accomplished my “goal” so I was not motivated to run anymore. I tried running a little here and there but, the motivation was just not there.
Now 10 years later, I have a little regret about not even running a little bit during that time. I look at the “improvement” I made from May 2000 to August 2001 and see 4 min 32 seconds. Big frikking deal!! The below 4 hours seems almost insignificant.
Fast forward… June 2009. I’m coaching Pascal on his first attempt at a half marathon. He’s never ran that far before. I point him to various websites and give all sorts of advice. The “urge” is back. I get out and start running again. At 215 lbs., I am a lot slower, but I succeed in dropping 30 lbs. by training for the half marathon in September 2009. I finish it with a time of 2:16:27. The motivation of having completed a half-marathon with three months of training motivates me to go even further.
May 2011 – Ottawa
Fast forward once again… May 2011. Since October 2010, I’ve been training with the folks at Étudiants dans la course (Students on the Run - a project that encourages young people selected from the Montreal community, the challenge to participate in the Marathon Oasis de Montreal). Now, I really love running. All my running before was done alone. Now most of my training is done with the mentors and students. It’s quite a new feeling. I’m running with a perpetual smile.
A bunch of mentors and I are off to Ottawa to get warmed up for the Montreal one. I’m just hoping I can still finish one. I was disappointed a bit by my time, but I was quite happy that I had finished a marathon almost 10 years after my last one. 4:32:10. However, a few days after, the demon returned… I was starting to contemplate the 4 hour level once again. Luckily for me, thanks to meeting François and being slightly insane, we both signed up for the Limberlost Challenge 56 km Trail Run dragging along 2 other musketeers (Donald and Yves) in the process.
July 2011 - Limberlost Challenge – Muskoka Ontario, near Huntsville.
I really had no frikkin clue what I was getting myself into. The Limberlost is 4 laps of 14 km that describes itself as “technical trails with rolling hills”. I even consulted the elevation chart. A few 60 meter hills here and there, seems easy enough. I found out the hard way what that meant.
I had “great plans” … I had built a spreadsheet and made Plan A: less than 7 hours and Plan B: less than 7h 30 min. Plan C: WORST CASE less than 8 hours.
Plan A: 1st lap: 6:45/km 2nd lap: 7:00/km 3rd lap: 7:30/km 4th lap: 7:50/km
Breaks of 4 minutes gave me 06:59:10
Plan B: 1st lap: 7:00/km 2nd lap: 7:30/km 3rd lap: 8:00/km 4th lap: 8:30/km
Breaks of 4 minutes gave me 07:26:00
Plan C: I didn’t even write it down. I figured that even in the worst conditions, I would be able to do that. WRONG AGAIN!!
We all started at 8:00 am and after 1 km I met the first hill. It was 60 meters almost straight up. OW! I made it to the top and then …. 40 meters down… in a zigzag pattern trying to avoid trees, rocks, roots, other runners. 3 km completed and it started to click in my brain that this might be harder than I thought. There were hardly any places in the course that were flat and straight. The whole course was going to be up/down, zigzag, and I had to concentrate so as to not break any bones. Two more hills like the first plus all twists and turns made it that all the four of us musketeers easily got separated and even with the other 70 runners doing the 56 km and the 300 others doing the 14, 28 and 42 km distances, most of the time was spent alone. There were two aid stations in the course and I barely stopped that first lap since I was carrying two bottles. (One for Heed, one for water). I popped out of the first lap at 1:52:34… about 8:02/km. Arriving at the start/finish aid station, I found Yves leaving the aid station. I gave him a high five and off he went. Donald had come and gone. François was nowhere to be found. I filled up my two bottles, munched on whatever my hand found, kissed my wife Julie and off I went for lap number 2.
Starting the second lap, I was still in delusional mode thinking that 4 laps, with 2 hours per lap, I can do that in less than 8 hours. This time I was walking up all hills and I was going to fly down the hills. I was still trying to keep 8:00/km splits with less and less success. It went fairly well for this lap but my muscles were really sore and fatigue started to kick in. I finally arrived at the start/finish aid station with 04:03:43 gone on the clock. Reality really started to kick in. I had completed 28 km in 4 hours. I still had 28 km to do and I was slowing down. This was going to be a long day. It was now noon, 32 degrees Celsius with a humidex over 40. I looked like hell. (So Julie tells me)
I staggered over to our support tent and sat down to change my socks, to stuff food down my throat and to put layers of Vaseline. (God I hate chafing)
I found out Donald had come and gone and Yves was sitting there telling me he won’t be doing any more laps. He was quite serene with his decision and now in hindsight I could see he was worried about me. I think I mumbled something about don’t give up just yet, he still had time but he made it clear his decision was final but he was happy with it. After about a 15 minute break somehow I stood up and said, “One more lap” having no clue what so ever if I was going to make it to the first aid station let alone the whole lap but I was moving one step at a time. Sure enough, I did in fact make it to the aid station about 40 minutes later and ate some fruit, chips and after thanking everyone there off I went.
Then the math maniac in me was calculating my walking time and the time left before the cut-off and it seemed that even if I walked the rest of the race, I would make the cut-off without any trouble. (The cut-off being the point in the race where they would not let us make the final lap) That couldn’t be right... but sure enough... after having gone over the math in my head for the next 20 minutes it was clear... I was making the cut-off even if I walked the rest of the lap AND I was making the cut-off of the race even if I walked the whole last lap.
I was filled with euphoria. From that point on the whole race changed. I started enjoying the scenery, the smells, the whole frikkin experience and from that moment on anytime someone asked how I was doing, I had a simple answer, “I am doing great, I am going to finish my first ultra today!” So I walked a lot... I ran some and made it to the end of the third lap in 6:44:03. There’s Yves and Julie both smiling and screaming “You made the cut-off... you made the cut-off...” Of course I am jumping all around screaming... “I know... I KNOW... I am finishing this... I am finishing this!!” Julie told me later she thought I was completely delirious and was looking for the doctor.
Another layer of Vaseline (Did I mention I hate chafing?), more food, water bottles filled with ice cold water and Heed and got a full bottle of gel. (I had emptied the first.) After a 5 minute break, letting out a primal scream/growl I was jumping up and ready to finish this last lap. Well my gel bottle falls out of my belt, I start staggering and Yves helps me put it back in place. So much for the dramatic exit…
Finally I start the last lap. As soon as my foot hit the first part of the trail, I am remembering the words from Donald our fellow musketeer. From this moment on, you are running farther than you have run before. You are now an ultra-runner. “I AM AN ULTRA RUNNER.” That mantra fuelled me more that any gel, food, water. That last lap was my longest 2:36:44. 11min/km. It was a 50 min trek between aid stations and I never saw another person between them. It was surreal. Even being one of the last on the trail, each aid station still had plenty for which I was grateful. It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon, its 33 frikking degrees Celsius (over 90 Fahrenheit) we started at 8 and they still have ice!! I am in awe of these volunteers. I tried to convey how grateful I was to the folks manning the stations while stuffing food down my throat and watching them fill my bottles. Even if this lap was the longest, it was also somehow the shortest. I was in bliss.
I’m out of the woods, running down the country road for the last time, and there’s the finish line and quite frankly I could not give a shit about the time. I had finished an ultra-marathon. Donald, Yves and Julie were screaming and clapping as well as quite a few finishers yelling their congratulations. Finally after 9:30:47 it was over. It was 5 thirty in the afternoon and I had finished this.
Staggering around, getting hugs from Julie, Donald and Yves I remove my sneakers and belt, I also find out François was still running he had made the cut-off as well. (Here I invite you to read his story at: http://flintland.blogspot.com/2011/07/unreal-story-of-my-first-ultra-marathon.html )
Less than fifteen minutes later, here comes François... I still have plenty of energy to run to the finish line and watch him run past me. “I can’t stop... I can’t stop...” I hear him mumble as he goes past me. Finally he finds the energy to actually stop and I find the energy to go find him. Hugs are flying all around. All of us are bouncing around like kids at the start of summer vacations.
The sheer insanity of that run and the bliss from that final lap is still with me. Last weekend we were doing a half-marathon at Mont-Tremblant with the kids of Étudiants dans la course and the bliss was ever present. We were running the course, giving high-fives to police officers, jumping on fire trucks and simply having a good time.
It doesn’t matter if you do 5 km or 50 km. It doesn’t matter what sort of pace you run. Enjoy it and be grateful that your body lets you do it.
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