Oh my goodness, this post update took longer than I anticipated. This past week has been a whirlwind for me in terms of commitments and unexpected life events, but better late than never. Here's my reflection :) I mentioned in my last post that simply finishing this course would mean so much to me. This was the first time I've tackled this distance, and as expected, "slow and steady", with minimal expectations about my pace worked the best. We met at Panera bread as always. Part of my race morning "ritual" is downing a peanut butter bagel and a glass of Nuun electrolytes. I drove Amar and Denis (accompanied w/ my usual trashy hiphop pre-race playlist) and we parked near James and King William. I was annoyed that they charged "event" pricing, where a weekend spot cost $20 instead of regularly $6. Ah, well. Didn't sweat the small stuff. The rest of the team met at FirstOntario Centre (previously Copps Coliseum). A Tim Horton's van was giving out free coffee and hot chocolate and I was so nervous, I didn't end up drinking any of it. Our corrale was actually several hundred metres from FirstOntario Centre, so we took that stretch as a walking warmup. Lax made a new friend (see above, I have no idea what her name is). We were running a bit late so by the time we got to the corrals, the roads were already filled up a few hundred metres. We started in the VERY back of the line. I didn't even hear the gun fire. I was just following the runners that I barely noticed stepping on the strip that activated my chip. The first 5 km was slow and enjoyable. James Street bustled with spectators and cheerleaders. I made a conscious effort to smile at the crowd and enjoy the views that downtown Hamilton had to offer. The Hamilton public library reminded me of Robarts' library at U of T (I spent countless hours in that "turkey"-shaped building as a student). I appreciated the knick-knack of shops and cafes, some quaint and some modern. Hamilton doesn't get enough credit for its novelties. I really appreciated the motivational quotes on the signage for each of the km markers. I found it helped to focus on each quote for that kilometre and if it didn't resonate with me, then I would look forward to the next one. Some of my favourites were, "Tough runs don't last, but tough people do" , "The challenge ahead of you doesn't compare to the strength within you", and "The real purpose of running isn't to win a race, it's to test the limits of the human heart". These little km pushes were not only motivational markers for the race, but helped drive some reflections throughout the race. I mean, what else do you do when alone with your thoughts and no media for 3 hours? We crossed an overpass at ~5 km and just as I was thinking it, a neighbouring runner said to his friend "wow this is just like the Confederation bridge!". I suspect this was in reference to the bridge at Confederation and Rathburn Rd. They were just too similar. I had no idea who this runner was. I had never trained with him. There were thousands of runners running this race and somehow I end up beside someone who, presumably, trained in the same route I did. I tried to give him a thumbs up in agreement, but I'm not sure he noticed me. The Burlington St stretch and the Beach Blvd were, for lack of better words, boring as fuck. Lol. I was annoyed that I wore two layers (1 dry fit shirt and my windbreaker) because it got uncomfortably warm. I continued on an easy 6:30 min/km pace-ish reminding myself to slow down. I took my sweet time walking through each Gatorade and water station. I stopped to stretch my after every 5ish km. I must say that for the first half of the race, the biggest inconveniences were my sudden pangs of hunger and overheating with my choice of clothes. Thankfully, the winds picked up around 12 km, and the scariest part of the race came at around 15 km, in the form of metal grates on a bridge at Eastport drive. Suddenly, I looked down and my view looked like this. I'm not usually afraid of heights, but coupled with the strong winds and the raging waves below my feet (not as calm as pictured above), I suddenly got very anxious. My overactive and slightly irrational mind started conjuring images of me slipping off the wet grates and being swallowed up by Hamilton Harbour. The Grim Reaper indeed! I may have said, "oh no" out loud approximately 20 times - so much so, that someone actually noticed! Oops. I pulled through the 50 m stretch and a fellow runner said, "ok, halfway done". Indeed. My hunger and boredom grew and luckily the elevation profiles changed around 18 km to distract me. Thank you, North Shore. The rolling hills finally started. I tucked my arms in, kept short forefoot strides, maintained the same amount of low-medium effort in climbing the hill, and relished the larger downhill strides. At around 19 km, I actually ran into my friend, Francis. I had no idea he was running this race! I nudged him, and I got the sense he was struggling, (his actual words, "I'm dying"). Lol. Sorry Francis :p Wished him good luck and made a mental note to congratulate him at the end. At this point of the race, I felt fucking fantastic. ^Marathon-Photos, capturing my leisurely stroll, for the most part. I picked up the pace(ish) around 20 km. I'll never forget the feeling of passing Bayshore Park, where we trained just two short weeks previous. Suddenly, my confidence surged, because not only had I done this route before, I'd done it twice (out and back). The vision of finishing became more realistic. I knew exactly what to expect. I knew where the remainder of the hills were. I knew where my biggest challenge would be, and where I would find relief. I knew where I would speed up, and where I would take longer strides as needed. I made a mental note to thank Amar at the end of the race for preparing us for this. With this new rush of confidence, I started to pass runners, including the 3:20 pace bunnies. The next paragraph will sound super cheesy, let me warn you. However, I've always been the cheesy "find the metaphor/patterns in life" type of introspective - so here it goes: Encountering the steep hills at Valley Inn (around 26 km) was every bit as challenging and cathartic as I needed them to be. The hills gave me the love that I wished upon them just two weeks previous, when training. At around 3/4 of the uphill climb, I slowed down, eventually coming to a full stop. I took a few deep breaths, and took a mental snapshot of the hills and waters before me. Believe me, I didn't anticipate to do this. But my body and mind were sending me a message - loud and clear. Give yourself the break that you need. Give yourself the permission to stop. Reflect. And change your course/game plan as you need. At that moment, as cheesy and lame as it sounds, I started to become more at peace with completing the race... (and...life?), in good spirits. Ha. I am slightly cringing reading the above paragraph, but it's true. Recently, a friend teased me about, "running away from my problems" and "the bigger the race, the more stress it symbolizes". Admittedly, there was some truth to that. In recent weeks, I'd felt like I was on the same trajectory as the rolling hills and roads I had overcome. There were some really hard days, where I felt stressed, annoyed, conflicted, and overall generally pissed off with all the curveballs that life was throwing at me. Some days were flat, indifferent, and I felt resigned and disengaged with my family, friends, (ex)partner, work, and so on. Other days were actually great, where I would find joy in the smallest, unexpected things and I felt like I was making real strides in self-improvement and fulfillment. Among these feelings, I just kept on going. Kept pushing through. I hesitated to stop, reflect, figure out my priorities and take a breather. I just kept going to my training/gym, kept running, kept playing volleyball, kept overworking, kept my appointments without taking the time to pause, let "my heart (rate) settle" and face the facts and values that I needed to face. At the top of the hill, I finally felt "at peace" with where life is taking me so far. I finished the race with a fast 3 km, with a sub-6:00 min/km pace. I ran into the stadium with arms, heart, and legs pumping. I sprinted with all my tired mind. I hit a personal best (regardless), 3:12:18. ^^^The face of someone determined to finish strong. Or a hungry hippo, waiting for post-race food. The rest of the finish was a blur. I was blown away by the feeling of strength, excitement, and again, catharsis of finishing in that stadium. I'm far from being an Olympian, and I'm not even that fast of a runner to begin with, but at that moment, finishing in that track with the crowds cheering will count as one of my most memorable moments this year. Or ever. Thank you, Around the Bay (125), for giving me this. Thank heavens. Thanking all my coaches, friends, training partners, and all the runners that day. #OlderthanBoston. There was free beer somewhere, but I was drunk off of excitement and self-love for achieving something so personal; something that goes beyond just finishing this race. I said goodbye to my friends, thanked Amar for coaching, didn't get a chance to see Francis finish (congrats friend), and headed over to Keri's house for some much-needed girl time. She showered me with love, praise, and freshly baked snacks and tea. My love languages. Keri, I love you and our friendship is one of the best things grad school ever gave me (in addition to...y'know, a career, I guess, hahaha). The rest of the day was spent with my feet up, a warm shower, and resting in bed. I'm about 5 days out since the race as I write this, and recovery has surprisingly been amazing. I didn't feel sore at all!
If you've finished reading this, thanks for following along :) I started this little space because my Strava rants have been getting lengthy and so far, the general feedback has been positive from my runner and non-runner friends. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
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