“There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say, “Enough is enough.” For me, that time is now. I have been dealing with claims that I cheated and had an unfair advantage in winning my seven Tours since 1999. Over the past three years, I have been subjected to a two-year federal criminal investigation followed by Travis Tygart’s unconstitutional witch hunt. The toll this has taken on my family, and my work for our foundation and on me leads me to where I am today - finished with this nonsense.
I had hoped that a federal court would stop USADA’s charade. Although the court was sympathetic to my concerns and recognized the many improprieties and deficiencies in USADA’s motives, its conduct, and its process, the court ultimately decided that it could not intervene.
If I thought for one moment that by participating in USADA’s process, I could confront these allegations in a fair setting and - once and for all - put these charges to rest, I would jump at the chance. But I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair. Regardless of what Travis Tygart says, there is zero physical evidence to support his outlandish and heinous claims. The only physical evidence here is the hundreds of controls I have passed with flying colors. I made myself available around the clock and around the world. In-competition. Out of competition. Blood. Urine. Whatever they asked for I provided. What is the point of all this testing if, in the end, USADA will not stand by it?
From the beginning, however, this investigation has not been about learning the truth or cleaning up cycling, but about punishing me at all costs. I am a retired cyclist, yet USADA has lodged charges over 17 years old despite its own 8-year limitation. As respected organizations such as UCI and USA Cycling have made clear, USADA lacks jurisdiction even to bring these charges. The international bodies governing cycling have ordered USADA to stop, have given notice that no one should participate in USADA’s improper proceedings, and have made it clear the pronouncements by USADA that it has banned people for life or stripped them of their accomplishments are made without authority. And as many others, including USADA’s own arbitrators, have found, there is nothing even remotely fair about its process. USADA has broken the law, turned its back on its own rules, and stiff-armed those who have tried to persuade USADA to honor its obligations. At every turn, USADA has played the role of a bully, threatening everyone in its way and challenging the good faith of anyone who questions its motives or its methods, all at U.S. taxpayers’ expense. For the last two months, USADA has endlessly repeated the mantra that there should be a single set of rules, applicable to all, but they have arrogantly refused to practice what they preach. On top of all that, USADA has allegedly made deals with other riders that circumvent their own rules as long as they said I cheated. Many of those riders continue to race today.
The bottom line is I played by the rules that were put in place by the UCI, WADA and USADA when I raced. The idea that athletes can be convicted today without positive A and B samples, under the same rules and procedures that apply to athletes with positive tests, perverts the system and creates a process where any begrudged ex-teammate can open a USADA case out of spite or for personal gain or a cheating cyclist can cut a sweetheart deal for themselves. It’s an unfair approach, applied selectively, in opposition to all the rules. It’s just not right.
USADA cannot assert control of a professional international sport and attempt to strip my seven Tour de France titles. I know who won those seven Tours, my teammates know who won those seven Tours, and everyone I competed against knows who won those seven Tours. We all raced together. For three weeks over the same roads, the same mountains, and against all the weather and elements that we had to confront. There were no shortcuts, there was no special treatment. The same courses, the same rules. The toughest event in the world where the strongest man wins. Nobody can ever change that. Especially not Travis Tygart.
Today I turn the page. I will no longer address this issue, regardless of the circumstances. I will commit myself to the work I began before ever winning a single Tour de France title: serving people and families affected by cancer, especially those in underserved communities. This October, my Foundation will celebrate 15 years of service to cancer survivors and the milestone of raising nearly $500 million. We have a lot of work to do and I’m looking forward to an end to this pointless distraction. I have a responsibility to all those who have stepped forward to devote their time and energy to the cancer cause. I will not stop fighting for that mission. Going forward, I am going to devote myself to raising my five beautiful (and energetic) kids, fighting cancer, and attempting to be the fittest 40-year old on the planet.”
“There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say, “Enough is enough.” For me, that time is now. I have been dealing with claims that I cheated and had an unfair advantage in winning my seven Tours since 1999. Over the past three years, I have been subjected to a two-year federal criminal investigation followed by Travis Tygart’s unconstitutional witch hunt. The toll this has taken on my family, and my work for our foundation and on me leads me to where I am today - finished with this nonsense.
I had hoped that a federal court would stop USADA’s charade. Although the court was sympathetic to my concerns and recognized the many improprieties and deficiencies in USADA’s motives, its conduct, and its process, the court ultimately decided that it could not intervene.
If I thought for one moment that by participating in USADA’s process, I could confront these allegations in a fair setting and - once and for all - put these charges to rest, I would jump at the chance. But I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair. Regardless of what Travis Tygart says, there is zero physical evidence to support his outlandish and heinous claims. The only physical evidence here is the hundreds of controls I have passed with flying colors. I made myself available around the clock and around the world. In-competition. Out of competition. Blood. Urine. Whatever they asked for I provided. What is the point of all this testing if, in the end, USADA will not stand by it?
From the beginning, however, this investigation has not been about learning the truth or cleaning up cycling, but about punishing me at all costs. I am a retired cyclist, yet USADA has lodged charges over 17 years old despite its own 8-year limitation. As respected organizations such as UCI and USA Cycling have made clear, USADA lacks jurisdiction even to bring these charges. The international bodies governing cycling have ordered USADA to stop, have given notice that no one should participate in USADA’s improper proceedings, and have made it clear the pronouncements by USADA that it has banned people for life or stripped them of their accomplishments are made without authority. And as many others, including USADA’s own arbitrators, have found, there is nothing even remotely fair about its process. USADA has broken the law, turned its back on its own rules, and stiff-armed those who have tried to persuade USADA to honor its obligations. At every turn, USADA has played the role of a bully, threatening everyone in its way and challenging the good faith of anyone who questions its motives or its methods, all at U.S. taxpayers’ expense. For the last two months, USADA has endlessly repeated the mantra that there should be a single set of rules, applicable to all, but they have arrogantly refused to practice what they preach. On top of all that, USADA has allegedly made deals with other riders that circumvent their own rules as long as they said I cheated. Many of those riders continue to race today.
The bottom line is I played by the rules that were put in place by the UCI, WADA and USADA when I raced. The idea that athletes can be convicted today without positive A and B samples, under the same rules and procedures that apply to athletes with positive tests, perverts the system and creates a process where any begrudged ex-teammate can open a USADA case out of spite or for personal gain or a cheating cyclist can cut a sweetheart deal for themselves. It’s an unfair approach, applied selectively, in opposition to all the rules. It’s just not right.
USADA cannot assert control of a professional international sport and attempt to strip my seven Tour de France titles. I know who won those seven Tours, my teammates know who won those seven Tours, and everyone I competed against knows who won those seven Tours. We all raced together. For three weeks over the same roads, the same mountains, and against all the weather and elements that we had to confront. There were no shortcuts, there was no special treatment. The same courses, the same rules. The toughest event in the world where the strongest man wins. Nobody can ever change that. Especially not Travis Tygart.
Today I turn the page. I will no longer address this issue, regardless of the circumstances. I will commit myself to the work I began before ever winning a single Tour de France title: serving people and families affected by cancer, especially those in underserved communities. This October, my Foundation will celebrate 15 years of service to cancer survivors and the milestone of raising nearly $500 million. We have a lot of work to do and I’m looking forward to an end to this pointless distraction. I have a responsibility to all those who have stepped forward to devote their time and energy to the cancer cause. I will not stop fighting for that mission. Going forward, I am going to devote myself to raising my five beautiful (and energetic) kids, fighting cancer, and attempting to be the fittest 40-year old on the planet.”
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Lance Armstrong's statement on doping
Not much to do with running, except Lance Armstrong has run a few marathons (including Boston and New York -- also winning one recently) since 'retiring'. Seen his statement is no longer on his site tonight since his site is down at the moment, reposting his statement regarding dropping his fight against doping charges.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Race report: A Midsummer Night's Run 30K
I may have travelled thousands of kilometers this week, jetting between Toronto, Calgary and Vancouver, but nothing was stopping me from toeing the line of one of my favourite races. This was the sixth time I’ve done the race that in its seventh year is really hitting stride as a premier summer running event in our city.
I ran a good part of the course last weekend, part as a practice of the course, but also to actually get some mileage in. My summer’s been slammed with work so I’ve not been doing mega mileage. Last week, I did 27 kilometres in 5:10 kilometres.
Weatherwise, this year’s edition was perfect. Coolness in the late-summer air, no trace of humidity, sunny but clouds were coming. Last year was humid and misty and the year before that was just plain hot and then rainy. As usual, I ran to the start line from home, getting about two miles in, which neatly gives me a 20 miler in the books.
What I love about this race is it draws out the marathon crowd, so I got to catch up with Lee, Fran, Sam and met Nicole M. IRL. Also caught glimpses of over Daily Milers and bloggers.
Fran was the 2:45 pacer so I stood with him but by the time I was turning the corner after the first straightaway, I had locked in my own pace.
First 10K (5:08, 5:10, 5:12, 5:16, 5:09, 5:00, 5:07, 5:08, 5:05, 5:02)
When I race long distances, I want to be on the edge of discomfort, yet feel like I’m running a natural pace. It happened back at Around the Bay when my target pace (5 minute kilometers) turned out to have some wiggle room which led me to up the pace. I settled perfectly into the 5:05 to 5:10 pace in that first 10K, just getting a sense of how my legs and cardio system were doing.
We ran south to Cherry Beach, which is a route I do all the time, and I was feeling pretty good. No overheating, I had luckily as usual brought my own water/Gatorade supply, and soon overtook the 2:40 pacer around 5K in. I found myself to be running with a fairly big group of runners, that is until we hit the water station and I lost all of them as they stopped for water.
On the way back to Commissioners, a guy walking toward me said “How long is this race?” Me: “30K”. Him: “How far are you in?” Me: <shrug> “About 10!” The stretch of Commissioners had me running solo since I was no longer pacing with any group, a lot of solo and small packs of runners. By the time we hit 10K, I was wondering how I’d keep a pace without any one else:
10K – 15K (5:09, 5:14, 5:11, 5:14, 5:10)
I found myself running near two guys who looked like they had found their zone, so I started locking on to their pace. Part of it was to do some pace management so I didn’t run too fast. The second part was to figure out how to run as we were passing all the walkers who were just entering Leslie Spit. We spent a good three kilometers or more passing walkers, which is a challenge as they were clogging up portions of the road. Spent quite a bit of time maneuvering around, which was fine but not the type of running that lets you lock on to pace.
16K – 20K (5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:06)
By the time we hit the 10 mile mark (16K), we were approaching the lighthouse and turnaround. Because we had the benefit of seeing the runners in front ofus, and later the runners behind us, we started to pick up the pace. I had run this exact stretch last week so I was ready for the course and the different types of road surfaces. We sped up to 5:01s, clearly gearing at a faster end. As I thought, both runners were well within their ability, but so was I. The cloud was covering the sun so we had some relief from the direct rays, but also it was starting to darken. I hit the 20K mark thinking about the amount of miles left and I was in good spirits
21K to 25K (5:04, 4:59, 4:55, 4:53, 4:50)
We exited the Spit and ran up Leslie. By then, one of the two guys had clearly decided to run the last 10K at his own pace so he took off. Me and a few other runners (including the guy’s partner) were then to decide how fast we went. I kept up my pace as if to give light chase to the faster runner. What that really meant was that I was to run the last 10K solo. I decided to lower the pace a bit as we headed toward Ashbridge’s Bay. You can see the splits start lowering (4:50s ranges). By 22K, I was thinking ‘5 miles,’ which is usually the sign that I’m trying to urge my body to continue as the level of discomfort rose. 4 miles in the park and I was starting to hurt, just a bit. It was pushing a bit on cardio, but I had a lot left, just took some of that inner ‘I’ve raced this distance a tonne of times’ memory.
26K to 28K (4:50, 4:49, 4:47)
By now, we’re in Ashbridge’s Bay and if there were a technical part of this course, this would be it. Lots of windy paths, some elevation changes, and a brief run on wood chips. Also I’d been catching up to and passing slowing runners, so it took a little in me to keep up the pace.
We exited the park back toward the finish, even with water stations and slightly tiring, I knew I wanted to push right into the final few kilometers. 28th kilmoetre was 4:47, my fastest yet.
With 2K to go, I took a gut check and figured I could push it to the end. Ran my 29th in 4:50, then we joined up with the 15K runners and walkers.
By then, I just willed myself to get to the finish line soonest, even if it meant blasting by the 15Ks. The last kilometer did few very long, but I ended up doing it in 4:36.
So a finish of 2:31:21, which is actually the slowest Midsummer’s 30K I’ve done. I’ve really tried to kill this course, with a PB of 2:13 back in 2008 (and in my defence, that was during my BQ years), but with this training and condition, I’m loving this year’s result.
Results for the race here.
The best part of Midsummer’s is the post race beer tent. Caught up with a lot of runners and lots of geek talk about our fall marathon planning and training. Was tonne of fun and I can’t wait till next year’s edtion. They better get my 195K pin ready.
I ran a good part of the course last weekend, part as a practice of the course, but also to actually get some mileage in. My summer’s been slammed with work so I’ve not been doing mega mileage. Last week, I did 27 kilometres in 5:10 kilometres.
Weatherwise, this year’s edition was perfect. Coolness in the late-summer air, no trace of humidity, sunny but clouds were coming. Last year was humid and misty and the year before that was just plain hot and then rainy. As usual, I ran to the start line from home, getting about two miles in, which neatly gives me a 20 miler in the books.
What I love about this race is it draws out the marathon crowd, so I got to catch up with Lee, Fran, Sam and met Nicole M. IRL. Also caught glimpses of over Daily Milers and bloggers.
Fran was the 2:45 pacer so I stood with him but by the time I was turning the corner after the first straightaway, I had locked in my own pace.
First 10K (5:08, 5:10, 5:12, 5:16, 5:09, 5:00, 5:07, 5:08, 5:05, 5:02)
When I race long distances, I want to be on the edge of discomfort, yet feel like I’m running a natural pace. It happened back at Around the Bay when my target pace (5 minute kilometers) turned out to have some wiggle room which led me to up the pace. I settled perfectly into the 5:05 to 5:10 pace in that first 10K, just getting a sense of how my legs and cardio system were doing.
We ran south to Cherry Beach, which is a route I do all the time, and I was feeling pretty good. No overheating, I had luckily as usual brought my own water/Gatorade supply, and soon overtook the 2:40 pacer around 5K in. I found myself to be running with a fairly big group of runners, that is until we hit the water station and I lost all of them as they stopped for water.
On the way back to Commissioners, a guy walking toward me said “How long is this race?” Me: “30K”. Him: “How far are you in?” Me: <shrug> “About 10!” The stretch of Commissioners had me running solo since I was no longer pacing with any group, a lot of solo and small packs of runners. By the time we hit 10K, I was wondering how I’d keep a pace without any one else:
10K – 15K (5:09, 5:14, 5:11, 5:14, 5:10)
I found myself running near two guys who looked like they had found their zone, so I started locking on to their pace. Part of it was to do some pace management so I didn’t run too fast. The second part was to figure out how to run as we were passing all the walkers who were just entering Leslie Spit. We spent a good three kilometers or more passing walkers, which is a challenge as they were clogging up portions of the road. Spent quite a bit of time maneuvering around, which was fine but not the type of running that lets you lock on to pace.
16K – 20K (5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:06)
By the time we hit the 10 mile mark (16K), we were approaching the lighthouse and turnaround. Because we had the benefit of seeing the runners in front ofus, and later the runners behind us, we started to pick up the pace. I had run this exact stretch last week so I was ready for the course and the different types of road surfaces. We sped up to 5:01s, clearly gearing at a faster end. As I thought, both runners were well within their ability, but so was I. The cloud was covering the sun so we had some relief from the direct rays, but also it was starting to darken. I hit the 20K mark thinking about the amount of miles left and I was in good spirits
21K to 25K (5:04, 4:59, 4:55, 4:53, 4:50)
We exited the Spit and ran up Leslie. By then, one of the two guys had clearly decided to run the last 10K at his own pace so he took off. Me and a few other runners (including the guy’s partner) were then to decide how fast we went. I kept up my pace as if to give light chase to the faster runner. What that really meant was that I was to run the last 10K solo. I decided to lower the pace a bit as we headed toward Ashbridge’s Bay. You can see the splits start lowering (4:50s ranges). By 22K, I was thinking ‘5 miles,’ which is usually the sign that I’m trying to urge my body to continue as the level of discomfort rose. 4 miles in the park and I was starting to hurt, just a bit. It was pushing a bit on cardio, but I had a lot left, just took some of that inner ‘I’ve raced this distance a tonne of times’ memory.
26K to 28K (4:50, 4:49, 4:47)
By now, we’re in Ashbridge’s Bay and if there were a technical part of this course, this would be it. Lots of windy paths, some elevation changes, and a brief run on wood chips. Also I’d been catching up to and passing slowing runners, so it took a little in me to keep up the pace.
We exited the park back toward the finish, even with water stations and slightly tiring, I knew I wanted to push right into the final few kilometers. 28th kilmoetre was 4:47, my fastest yet.
With 2K to go, I took a gut check and figured I could push it to the end. Ran my 29th in 4:50, then we joined up with the 15K runners and walkers.
By then, I just willed myself to get to the finish line soonest, even if it meant blasting by the 15Ks. The last kilometer did few very long, but I ended up doing it in 4:36.
So a finish of 2:31:21, which is actually the slowest Midsummer’s 30K I’ve done. I’ve really tried to kill this course, with a PB of 2:13 back in 2008 (and in my defence, that was during my BQ years), but with this training and condition, I’m loving this year’s result.
Results for the race here.
The best part of Midsummer’s is the post race beer tent. Caught up with a lot of runners and lots of geek talk about our fall marathon planning and training. Was tonne of fun and I can’t wait till next year’s edtion. They better get my 195K pin ready.
 |
| This year's A Midsummer Night's Run pin (165K) along with last year's. |
 |
| Post-race BBQ and beer at A Midsummer Night's Run in Toronto, 2012. |
 |
| Recovery beer at A Midsummer Night's Run. |
Saturday, August 11, 2012
A look at the marathon field and Canada's chances at cracking top 25
Canadian marathoner Dylan Wykes says a top 25 finish would be his target, a top 10 a dream. People have high hopes for Ryan Hall but the coverage is focused on the Kenyan and Ethiopian athletes who are lining up Sunday for the men's Olympic marathon.
The IAAF released the start list of the 105 marathoners who will be racing in London, and it provides a very interesting snapshot. I took the list and sorted them by their personal best and 2012 best times. (SEE GOOGLE TABLE BELOW.)
On 'paper,' the coverage focusing on the Kenyan-Ethopian rivalry holds very much true. According to the personal-best times, the top six runners are indeed from the two countries, with fastest times from 2:03:42 to 2:05:04. Ryan Hall's best time, which coincidentally clocked in London, puts him as the seventh fastest by personal best times.
Of course, Ryan wasn't able to muster that type of performance at the Olympic trials, so it's a big unknown on whether he'll be in the form to match the type of running he did to stick with the top of the pack. (Note Ryan did that blistering 2:04:58 in Boston, but that doesn't count as a record because of the nature of the course.)
If you sort the field by their 2012 season best times, the top four are from Kenya and Ethiopia, and the U.S. runners Meb Keflezighi and Ryan fall to 18th and 19th.
On the Canadian end, the tough qualification standards we put our guys through actually put them in a good mid level position. Dylan's best time puts him at 39th out of 105 athletes while Reid Coolsaet is at 42 and Eric Gillis at 46. The Canadian runners aiming for top 25 finishes which seems very doable in the course of a race like this.
The Olympic marathon, unlike flat, cool and fast marathons in Berlin or Chicago, are not expected to produce anywhere near record times. Though those who would doubt the field only need to look at the stunning performances in Boston two years ago and in hot Beijing in 2008. Clearly, some runners are pushing the marathon way beyond what commentators expect. According to forecasts, the start time Sunday will be 22C and climb to 24C by 1 pm. The wind, at 15km, should be a small factor but also the winding looped course with tonnes of turns. With that weather, more than 8 to 10C higher than ideal cool fall conditions, I'd be excited but surprised if we saw anywhere close to record pace.
But with so many fast runners in the field, who knows.
Below: Click on tabs below to switch between PBs and 2012 times
The IAAF released the start list of the 105 marathoners who will be racing in London, and it provides a very interesting snapshot. I took the list and sorted them by their personal best and 2012 best times. (SEE GOOGLE TABLE BELOW.)
On 'paper,' the coverage focusing on the Kenyan-Ethopian rivalry holds very much true. According to the personal-best times, the top six runners are indeed from the two countries, with fastest times from 2:03:42 to 2:05:04. Ryan Hall's best time, which coincidentally clocked in London, puts him as the seventh fastest by personal best times.
Of course, Ryan wasn't able to muster that type of performance at the Olympic trials, so it's a big unknown on whether he'll be in the form to match the type of running he did to stick with the top of the pack. (Note Ryan did that blistering 2:04:58 in Boston, but that doesn't count as a record because of the nature of the course.)
If you sort the field by their 2012 season best times, the top four are from Kenya and Ethiopia, and the U.S. runners Meb Keflezighi and Ryan fall to 18th and 19th.
On the Canadian end, the tough qualification standards we put our guys through actually put them in a good mid level position. Dylan's best time puts him at 39th out of 105 athletes while Reid Coolsaet is at 42 and Eric Gillis at 46. The Canadian runners aiming for top 25 finishes which seems very doable in the course of a race like this.
The Olympic marathon, unlike flat, cool and fast marathons in Berlin or Chicago, are not expected to produce anywhere near record times. Though those who would doubt the field only need to look at the stunning performances in Boston two years ago and in hot Beijing in 2008. Clearly, some runners are pushing the marathon way beyond what commentators expect. According to forecasts, the start time Sunday will be 22C and climb to 24C by 1 pm. The wind, at 15km, should be a small factor but also the winding looped course with tonnes of turns. With that weather, more than 8 to 10C higher than ideal cool fall conditions, I'd be excited but surprised if we saw anywhere close to record pace.
But with so many fast runners in the field, who knows.
Below: Click on tabs below to switch between PBs and 2012 times
Thursday, August 09, 2012
The mass appeal of marathoning
On Sunday, Eric Gillis, Reid Coolsaet and Dylan Wykes will be competing for Canada in the Olympic Marathon. It'll be a must-watch event not just to cheer on our first athletes to compete for Canada since 2000 in the event, but to see what actually unfolds on the streets of London (lots of turns) and if any dark horses emerge.
As I wrote earlier, I interviewed Dylan Wykes a few weeks ago. Here's a good portion of a story I wrote for HuffPost Canada today previewing the marathon and the sport of running.
-----
DYLAN WYKES’ ROAD to London began with a fall, at the start line with 7,000 runners behind him, his knees scraped and bloodied by the slip. Some two hours and 10 minutes later, he put the finishing touches on a searing performance in Rotterdam, the second fastest ever marathon time by a Canadian and a ticket to the Olympics.
Wykes, a Kingston, Ont. native now based in Vancouver, knows he has no logical chance to medal while representing Canada among a deeply talented field that is dominated by Kenyans and Ethiopians.
On Sunday morning, the event will get its big showcase. In these
Games, perhaps more than any in the past, the marathon hits a cross road
with a sport that’s experiencing a boom. Rightly so, as the marathon
was an event created for the Olympics and the 26.2-mile route was forged
on the streets of London more than a century ago. The Olympic marathon
has historically closed the Games as one of the final events, with the
winner entering a packed stadium to take their victory lap.
“It’s the biggest stage,” Wykes told HuffPost Canada as he was training at altitude in Switzerland before the Olympics. For Wykes, a top 25 performance is a goal, and a top 10 finish a dream. “There are guys who have run 2:04, there are guys who are six minutes faster [than his personal best].”
In the 16 years since Canada last sent a man to run the Olympic marathon, the sport has gone through a massive change, as a surge of popularity ushers in the next generation of runners.
A SPORT FINDS ITS LEGS
Since 1908, when Olympic organizers decided to add two kilometres to race course so that royalty could view the finish, the 42.2-kilometre marathon has become the modern everyperson’s Everest, the bucket list item that thousands upon thousands of men and women have now crossed off.
The word marathon has been synonymous with epic times, seeped into public consciousness, and applied to sedentary affairs like the airing of TV reruns, extended tennis matches or similarly drawn-out affairs, even as the marathon records continue to get faster.
In big-city marathons, where professional marathoners earn their money, the elites are joined by runners of all stripes, sizes and speeds. The biggest of them all bring in more than 45,000 runners. The most recent running boom, has seen women take on the sport (and racing) in massive, greying numbers. Last year, almost 14 million people participated in a road race in the United States, with 55 per cent of those finishers were women. Canada has experienced a similar boom, particularly in the half marathon.
Read the rest over at The Huffington Post Canada, Canada Olympic Marathon: Running Booms As Dylan Wykes, Eric Gillis And Reid Coolsaet To Compete Sunday
The Marathon begins Sunday at 11 a.m. London time or 6 a.m. ET.
As I wrote earlier, I interviewed Dylan Wykes a few weeks ago. Here's a good portion of a story I wrote for HuffPost Canada today previewing the marathon and the sport of running.
-----
DYLAN WYKES’ ROAD to London began with a fall, at the start line with 7,000 runners behind him, his knees scraped and bloodied by the slip. Some two hours and 10 minutes later, he put the finishing touches on a searing performance in Rotterdam, the second fastest ever marathon time by a Canadian and a ticket to the Olympics.
Wykes, a Kingston, Ont. native now based in Vancouver, knows he has no logical chance to medal while representing Canada among a deeply talented field that is dominated by Kenyans and Ethiopians.
“It’s the biggest stage,” Wykes told HuffPost Canada as he was training at altitude in Switzerland before the Olympics. For Wykes, a top 25 performance is a goal, and a top 10 finish a dream. “There are guys who have run 2:04, there are guys who are six minutes faster [than his personal best].”
In the 16 years since Canada last sent a man to run the Olympic marathon, the sport has gone through a massive change, as a surge of popularity ushers in the next generation of runners.
A SPORT FINDS ITS LEGS
Since 1908, when Olympic organizers decided to add two kilometres to race course so that royalty could view the finish, the 42.2-kilometre marathon has become the modern everyperson’s Everest, the bucket list item that thousands upon thousands of men and women have now crossed off.
The word marathon has been synonymous with epic times, seeped into public consciousness, and applied to sedentary affairs like the airing of TV reruns, extended tennis matches or similarly drawn-out affairs, even as the marathon records continue to get faster.
In big-city marathons, where professional marathoners earn their money, the elites are joined by runners of all stripes, sizes and speeds. The biggest of them all bring in more than 45,000 runners. The most recent running boom, has seen women take on the sport (and racing) in massive, greying numbers. Last year, almost 14 million people participated in a road race in the United States, with 55 per cent of those finishers were women. Canada has experienced a similar boom, particularly in the half marathon.
Read the rest over at The Huffington Post Canada, Canada Olympic Marathon: Running Booms As Dylan Wykes, Eric Gillis And Reid Coolsaet To Compete Sunday
The Marathon begins Sunday at 11 a.m. London time or 6 a.m. ET.
Vegetarian and gluten free for running?
I like to think runners have habits that die hard. Take our nutrition. The runner in the midst of marathon training may alternate between hunger and and occasional bad-food binging.
When I'm prepping for a long distance race, I can easily plan three days of meals ahead, where simplicity is the goal and pasta, bagels and bananas (and also water and sodium) are the staple of my diet.
I recently interviewed Canadian Olympian marathoner Dylan Wykes on how he trains and fuels for performance. You may not know this, but Wykes is a vegetarian and has debated on whether he should go back to eating meat as an elite athlete.
See the interview with him here at Huffington Post Canada. He runs through some of the favourite foods he fuels with, including almond butter, quinoa and lentils.
What didn't make the piece I wrote was how he eats pre race (or what he'll be eating in a few days). Like others, he focuses on carb intake, probably rice or pasta, plua "a few vegetables." Wykes doesn't really concentrate on protein.
A typical day would look like
Many people I know are also trying to go gluten free and I've been toying with carb substitutes that are gluten free, which is hard when I can easily have all three meals with bread or pasta products. This past weekend, I made a quinoa salad with lentils, and R. surprisingly liked it, even while admitting that she hated the grainy texture of quinoa. By the next meal, we were having white rice and home made ma po tofo. I really can't imagine eliminating gluten as a way to get my carbs in.
When I'm prepping for a long distance race, I can easily plan three days of meals ahead, where simplicity is the goal and pasta, bagels and bananas (and also water and sodium) are the staple of my diet.
I recently interviewed Canadian Olympian marathoner Dylan Wykes on how he trains and fuels for performance. You may not know this, but Wykes is a vegetarian and has debated on whether he should go back to eating meat as an elite athlete.
See the interview with him here at Huffington Post Canada. He runs through some of the favourite foods he fuels with, including almond butter, quinoa and lentils.
What didn't make the piece I wrote was how he eats pre race (or what he'll be eating in a few days). Like others, he focuses on carb intake, probably rice or pasta, plua "a few vegetables." Wykes doesn't really concentrate on protein.
A typical day would look like
- Breakfast: Toast, almond butter and banana
- Post workout: Rice, pasta or quinoa
- Lunch: Quinoa and bean salad
- Dinner: Fake meat at times (ground or tofu) with pasta.
Many people I know are also trying to go gluten free and I've been toying with carb substitutes that are gluten free, which is hard when I can easily have all three meals with bread or pasta products. This past weekend, I made a quinoa salad with lentils, and R. surprisingly liked it, even while admitting that she hated the grainy texture of quinoa. By the next meal, we were having white rice and home made ma po tofo. I really can't imagine eliminating gluten as a way to get my carbs in.
Sunday, August 05, 2012
The pause
This summer marks the seventh straight that I've been prepping for fall marathons. Looking at the training graphs for the past few months, and activity on this blog, you'd think I've taken a hiatus.
Not so, but logging less than 50 miles in June (I took two weeks off to go to Asia) and 128 miles in July do not equal one of those monster months I've been accustomed to in years gone by.
I know the work that goes into that fall marathon, 300 miles once I piled into an August three years ago. The training schedule, once ingrained into your calendar, puts a sense of purpose into each day. Didn't get in the 7 mile tempo run? Your day would be ruined.
Looking at my daily schedule now, my runs take a priority -- I still schedule after-work commitments so I can 'get my run in', and look to build up the mileage by the time I reach Friday evening. Every weekend still has that purpose with the buildup to that long run on a Saturday or Sunday morning.
But the program, it's freeflowing, all in the head, my body's on a sort of autopilot built to train up to the endurance event.
The dividends are still there -- after a sweat soaked run, I still feel as spent as I'd experienced hundreds of times by now. Feeling that my body was pushed, that I was able to connect to my physical self.
But I don't measure progress in pace times now -- at least not this year. This year, other priorities manifest, and I no longer view marathon training as work. Work would take the love out of it, I guess, so in that vein, I view my training as a way of life.
Running my 20th marathon this spring was almost a more poignant moment in a way than qualifying for and running the Boston Marathon. After finishing No. 20, instead of what next, I took a longer view. I no longer thought about the next marathon but about how long I would run, period.
Do I get the itch to run? I still do, every day.
This morning, having not attempted a long run in a few weeks, I put in seven kilometres on Rock Creek Park before ducking back inside to view the finish of the women's marathon. Having cooled off, I weighed between staying in the comfortable apartment or heading back outside into the DC heatwave. Mind made, I refilled the bottles, stepped outside, regained the satellite signal, embraced the heat and hit the unpause button.
13.1 miles in 2:02
Not so, but logging less than 50 miles in June (I took two weeks off to go to Asia) and 128 miles in July do not equal one of those monster months I've been accustomed to in years gone by.
I know the work that goes into that fall marathon, 300 miles once I piled into an August three years ago. The training schedule, once ingrained into your calendar, puts a sense of purpose into each day. Didn't get in the 7 mile tempo run? Your day would be ruined.
Looking at my daily schedule now, my runs take a priority -- I still schedule after-work commitments so I can 'get my run in', and look to build up the mileage by the time I reach Friday evening. Every weekend still has that purpose with the buildup to that long run on a Saturday or Sunday morning.
But the program, it's freeflowing, all in the head, my body's on a sort of autopilot built to train up to the endurance event.
The dividends are still there -- after a sweat soaked run, I still feel as spent as I'd experienced hundreds of times by now. Feeling that my body was pushed, that I was able to connect to my physical self.
But I don't measure progress in pace times now -- at least not this year. This year, other priorities manifest, and I no longer view marathon training as work. Work would take the love out of it, I guess, so in that vein, I view my training as a way of life.
Running my 20th marathon this spring was almost a more poignant moment in a way than qualifying for and running the Boston Marathon. After finishing No. 20, instead of what next, I took a longer view. I no longer thought about the next marathon but about how long I would run, period.
Do I get the itch to run? I still do, every day.
This morning, having not attempted a long run in a few weeks, I put in seven kilometres on Rock Creek Park before ducking back inside to view the finish of the women's marathon. Having cooled off, I weighed between staying in the comfortable apartment or heading back outside into the DC heatwave. Mind made, I refilled the bottles, stepped outside, regained the satellite signal, embraced the heat and hit the unpause button.
13.1 miles in 2:02
Saturday, August 04, 2012
No need to apologize, Paula Findlay
Guts are a key ingredient in the makeup of any athlete who meddles in endurance sports. Just stand at the final 400 metres of any marathon, major or small, and you'll see it on the salt-stained faces of finishers.
We like to celebrate during these Games those athletes who medal, those who stand on podiums and rack up medals. In defeat, in agony, however, you see the true display of sportsmanship and what it takes to push the body beyond limits.
Paula Findlay finished last in her Olympic debut today, and told the nation that she was "sorry." For any athlete who have felt the Wall, felt the race wasn't their day, that must be just a fraction of what she was going through. On her sport's biggest day, she must of felt the weight of her own expectations, let alone her nation's.
"I'm really sorry to everybody to Canada."
It was fellow Canadian triathlete Simon Whitfield who for me succinctly summed up what race day meant for his sport -- or any sport where preparation is the key. A few weeks after he ran that thrilling silver medal win in Beijing in 2008, he wrote:
"I felt like all I had to do was express my fitness, I wasn't hoping for miracles, simply expressing fitness earned through hard work," he wrote on a blog at the time.
Fitness is earned through hard work, and race day is an expression of all the preparation. These athletes don't go praying for a breakthrough performance, and even after the race Findlay said "I guess my fitness is not quite up there."
It wasn't Paula's day. And it could have been a day, where she would just have to stand off the course, and walk away from the race.
But she didn't.
One of the most unforgettable moments I'll always associate with the Olympics is the finish of Derek Redmond, a British runner who at the 1992 Games injured himself in the midst of competition. In severe pain and sadness, he hobbling to the finish, in front of tens of thousands.
Making it to the finish, forcing yourself to face the line, the cameras, when you don't have an ounce of energy left in you. That's guts and that's heart.
No need to apologize Paula. No need.
We like to celebrate during these Games those athletes who medal, those who stand on podiums and rack up medals. In defeat, in agony, however, you see the true display of sportsmanship and what it takes to push the body beyond limits.
Paula Findlay finished last in her Olympic debut today, and told the nation that she was "sorry." For any athlete who have felt the Wall, felt the race wasn't their day, that must be just a fraction of what she was going through. On her sport's biggest day, she must of felt the weight of her own expectations, let alone her nation's.
"I'm really sorry to everybody to Canada."
It was fellow Canadian triathlete Simon Whitfield who for me succinctly summed up what race day meant for his sport -- or any sport where preparation is the key. A few weeks after he ran that thrilling silver medal win in Beijing in 2008, he wrote:
"I felt like all I had to do was express my fitness, I wasn't hoping for miracles, simply expressing fitness earned through hard work," he wrote on a blog at the time.
Fitness is earned through hard work, and race day is an expression of all the preparation. These athletes don't go praying for a breakthrough performance, and even after the race Findlay said "I guess my fitness is not quite up there."
It wasn't Paula's day. And it could have been a day, where she would just have to stand off the course, and walk away from the race.
But she didn't.
One of the most unforgettable moments I'll always associate with the Olympics is the finish of Derek Redmond, a British runner who at the 1992 Games injured himself in the midst of competition. In severe pain and sadness, he hobbling to the finish, in front of tens of thousands.
Making it to the finish, forcing yourself to face the line, the cameras, when you don't have an ounce of energy left in you. That's guts and that's heart.
No need to apologize Paula. No need.
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