Race report: Toronto Goodlife Marathon 2014

I had to rip those arm warmers off. A kilometre earlier, they were shielding my limbs that are apt to get cold in the gusting wind, but now I was running into the sunshine, a honest tailwind behind me, they were getting on my nerves, big time. You don't want any negative thoughts this late in a race.

A few clumsy motions later, they were off, but not without a casualty.

I had dropped the wristband. 

How could I leave it behind, after it carried me for so far?

So I stopped dead in my tracks, 36K behind me, less than an hour away from The Goal. I turned, risking sudden cramps. I wasn't going to lose it, it meant too much to me.

***

Most marathon experts advise even paced marathons -- run the first half pretty much the same time as the second. By doing so, you do not risk getting up to your lactate threshold levels until late (or never). The race will get harder as the miles pile on -- they always do, but if you try to bank too much, you are likely to blow up. I know this feeling, having had marathons where marathon pace was going great, and a kilometre later, you were going 30 seconds slower per kilometre. Then you took a few walk breaks. Then it was over.

My last two marathons, I ran two negative splits, where you actually run the second half faster. In Chicago, where I hit a 3:18, I ran the second half 9 seconds faster than the first. In New York, which I ran three weeks later, I ran the last 21.1K about 30 seconds off the first.

But this weekend called for anything but a negative split. The first half features a net huge downhill that even I'd advise runners bank a minute or more.

And then there was that wind.

***

The Toronto Marathon is where I PBed and qualified for Boston back in 2009. It's a net downhill course in the first half but it doesn't always necessarily make it fast. But it is a fast course and if you run it right, it can pay huge dividends. I put Toronto on my race calendar when I signed up with BlackToe Running in December. I told the coach that I wanted to get back to Boston. When he asked what time that was, I told him 3:10. In reality, I needed a 3:15, but Boston had a cutoff last year of around 1:28, which meant you needed a 3:13:30 to get in.

Buffer, I told him. I wanted a buffer and 3:10 would get me that.

I've written about the crazy training in this extreme winter. I had, up to marathon day, also been on a 157-day running streak, had hit 200 miles or more per month for four months, and had set new personal bests in the 8K, half marathon and 30K. In my mind, being three for three in races was a massive deal, but there was really only one race that mattered -- the marathon distance.

Through the winter, my group got faster, that by the time were were talking marathon pace, the coach was starting to assign us 4:25 kilometres, or 3:07, or three minutes faster than that 3:10.

Dare to dream, right?

42 tips for the first-time marathoners

This weekend, I'm running my 27th marathon, my 97th road race. WHAT THE HECK?!

No. 27 and my sixth Goodlife full.

Today, I talked a runner through his first marathon, and realized there's a lot of pro tips I wish I knew... So, no fancy narrative, no GIFs, just this random list of thoughts. Here we go

1. Friday night sleep is best for a Sunday marathon. You won't sleep that well the night before
2. If you have a fuelling plan, mark it on your pace band. So you won't forget
3. Yes, you can get a pace band that shows you your splits, that way you can track to see if you're hitting milestones (ie 5K) faster or slower than your goal
4. Us old timers use running pace calculators like the one here. 
5. Guys, cover your nipples. Trust me, 3-5 hours of chafing can HURT. Bandaids will suffice
6. If you're wondering how many gels to take during a marathon, then go for anywhere from 3 - 6. But make sure you're fuelling early
7. Yes there are portapotties on the course. And yes, if you're a guy, you can improvise on the course. Just make sure you stop
8. If you're wearing a new pair of shoes on marathon day, then abort that plan. 
9. Pin your bib to your race shirt the night before. I can't tell you how many times I see people, shivering, trying at the race start
10. By the way, shivering at the start isn't a bad idea. You're dressing to run, not to stand outside
11. Garbage bags with holes poked out for your head and arms are appropriate wind/rain gear
12. Perfectly acceptable to wear warmup clothes to toss away
13. Not acceptable to toss them at another runner - bundle it into a ball before throwing 
14. Point at volunteers who are handing out water. That way, they know you're about to take the cup. Squeeze the cup to create a spout, then tip your head as you take sips
15. Thank the volunteers
16. Take those gels, if you can, right before you hit a water station, so you can wash them down
17. It's fine to draft after runners to pace, but if you do so, also take the lead at times
18. NOT fine to run on one's heels, give them space - and don't be all random about moving side to side
19. If you're about to take a walk break, don't come to an abrupt stop - at the very least, pull to the side and put up your hand
20. Smile and/or wave at any camera pointed in your direction
21. Marathon plan 1: First half should feel easy, next 10K should feel like you're working and the rest tests your training
22. Follow a pace bunny at your peril. Know your splits and know when to back the pace down. Remember, they are always faster runners who may not know your pace
23. Double knot your laces.
24. Hydrate well two days and the day before the race. Make sure you are getting electrolytes. 
25. If you fall victim to cramps, salt intake isn't a bad thing. Think soups, pretzels. Just straight water may not be a good idea
26. Also, fibre the day before isn't the greatest idea. Think of your GI issues
27. Eat your breakfast 3-4 hours before the race. It can be as much as a bagel with peanut butter and a banana for an hour before. Some do oatmeal or cereal. Do what works but get the calories in.
28. You will probably need to pee on race morning. A lot. This is normal. Nerves
29. Charge your Garmin/GPS watch the day before. In fact, keep the darned thing plugged in overnight
30. Have a goal time. Seriously. 
31. If you don't have one, maybe use a race predictor, put in another race time.
32. Yes you can listen to music during your race. I'm not a fan, but I get it. Just KEEP THE VOLUME DOWN when you're running
33. Get to the race an hour before the start time.
34. If you don't have to pee, and you're at a race early, go line up at a portapotty. Trust me, by the time you get to the front, you'll have to go
35. BodyGlide. In any place you think you'll need it.
36. Do not wear the race shirt during the race. If you have to ask, then... just don't ask. Don't wear it.
37. Do not answer your phone while running the marathon. Even if you really wanted to say to the person on the other line that "I'm running a marathon." Everyone around you will want to punch you
38. Race étiquette: look before you spit, or throw away the cup, or decide to weave. Just don't be annoying 
39. Marathon plan 2: Run with your head, then your heart, and within your own ability
40. If you are delirious, still NEVER forget to take that gel, Gatorade in the late miles.
41. Bonking happens, walking happens, accept that you are running a long time
42. And if this is your first, you will now remember that you have to always point out to everyone that it's not JUST 42K, it's... 42 POINT 2 Kilometres... Now you can call yourself a marathoner 

Our Boston on 4.15.14

About a year ago, I put on my blues and yellows, and did something I don't often do: I went out for a Tuesday run with a bunch of strangers. We did a few laps around Queen's Park. I saw others who looked familiar on my waterfront paths, only we were standing still, marking a moment of silence in the brilliant later afternoon sun. I then saw a friend who had just flown back from Boston. We traded a big hug.

About three weeks later, a friend of mine came back from the States and -- on the usual intersection where we met for an after-work run -- he slipped a blue and yellow wristband into my hand. "A souvenir," he said. I'm not much for wristbands, but this one said "RUN NOW" and "BOSTON 4.15.13."

I haven't gone on a run without it ever since.

I've worked my entire career in the media. We love anniversaries. It's a news hook, easy to fill space and poignant enough usually to preplan in an environment that can always change. A year ago, before the bombs hit Boston, it was a usual Monday morning for my colleagues, but it was Patriot's Day for me. I was tracking a bunch of friends, tuning my computer-side TV to the sports channel to listen to the sounds of Hopkinton, that starting point for the 26.2 mile race.

Hours later, feeling sick, I went home and off to bed. I was woken up by a phone call from the office. Bombs had gone off, and my staff was covering the story. Shaking off the grogginess, I checked my email and found messages, from friends who had finished okay and were accounted for, and friends who thought I was at the race. Within an hour, I was interviewing Toronto runners, writing a news story, writing a blog post in shell shock about our Boston.

Our Boston.


Boston means so much to many of us for different reasons. I spent years striving, fighting, running, for a chance to run my dream race. When I qualified, I looked back at all my achievements - personal and professional - and put that run among the greatest things I've ever done. Months later, toeing the line at the corral, I was in utter awe. I did not belong here. Everyone was so much better than I was. This was on national TV. How did I make it here?

The second time I ran Boston, I stood at the back of Wave 1 and savoured the crowd. I shivered, not from that tail wind, but from the chills of knowing I was somewhere special. It was one of those lifetime moments. I didn't take it for granted, but tried to take slow motion snapshots in my mind's eye. If I never ran Boston again, I didn't want to remember nerves or looking at my watch. So I stood and soaked everything in.

So Boston for me is a vivid memory. It's getting to the Toronto airport and seeing all those Boston jackets. It's seeing the banners on the streets, it's visiting the finish line, or holding The Jacket for the first time, or looking up at the signs at the corner of Hereford and Boylston. It's about school bus rides, the village and high fives with kids on trampolines. It's about beer on the course, a kiss at Wellesley and hills that make you remember why it broke someone's heart. It's about the growing crowds, the Citgo sign and Fenway, and noontime baseball. It's about the everything about 26.2 but also what happens alongside that course, and of the days before and after that day.

Around the world, and in every other state, it's a Monday. In Boston, that day, Patriot's Day, is Marathon Monday, and it's my Christmas Day. In the past week, I've been talking to friends who are going. I'm proud they are going to run the race hard, and they would have it no other way. Next Monday, I will be tuning in from Toronto, watching the race, tracking friends and reliving that route from Hopkinton to Boylston.

In the last year, I've been on my own journey. When two men tried to take my Boston memories away from me, I responded one way I knew I could, by vowing to get back. And to get back, there was only one thing to do -- do it harder, faster and with the purpose and love I've always had for the sport. So day after day, through the past 12 months, I've put on my shoes, walked out the front door, and pointed my wrist at the sky. The watch has had plenty of company this year with my blue and yellow band a reminder.

Boston runners, we're proud you'll be there for us this year. May wind be at your back, the cannolis keep you full, the high fives just as hard as the thunderous cheers on that beautiful day that is My Most Favourite Day.

Race Report: Harry's Spring RunOff 2014

Most of you dreaded this winter. Not me. I had my own tormentor.

Because regarding winter, I had no excuses. When I committed to train for a strong May marathon, I knew I'd be putting myself in uncomfortable territory. While I am a year-long runner, I typically focus on fall marathons for peak performances. But that's not what I wanted out of this year. If I were to hit May, then I'd have to train hard during this winter. You all know well the story of this winter. Some 35 extreme weather days, windchills we've never seen in many years and snow -- lots of it that made our footing iffy.

Was it winter that struck fear into me? Not really. I feared Wednesdays.

I remember one Wednesday about 14 weeks ago, I had signed up for the BlackToe team and our first quality workout was 8x1000. We couldn't do the Ex because it was an icy mess, so we moved to the waterfront trail. It was dark, slippery and we started to hammer those tempo paces. Back then, we were trying for 4:20s.

The Spring RunOff was what kicked of my adult racing habit. Back in 2005, when it was sponsored by PowerBar, I ran my very first road race. I was hooked, on racing, on pushing myself and on this hard course. I've since run it most years (and a few times done what I call The Double) no matter what my fitness or what I'm training for. My PB was set in 2008 when I was training for the Cincinnati Flying Pig Marathon and using the Pfitzinger-Douglas training program. That mark, 33:57, has stood for so many years.

This year, we took winter on. We ran right into the -15C, hammering out intervals, tempo runs and MP Wednesdays. Our tempo sessions were universally dreaded. We'd get a cryptic line in our training program, something like "3km warm up. 4km, 3, 2,1, start @ T" and we shuddered. My pace group members would all show up nervously and we'd go out to 'work'. But teamwork prevailed, and we always ended up the day laughing, stronger, more confident. Then on Thursday, I'd go back out there, sometimes running 15K some 9 hours after doing a 17K tempo session.

The paces got faster. What was 4:20s would become 4:15s (It was our fault, coach would say, as we'd do the intervals too fast). By the time March became April, he had us going at 4:05s for tempo (one hour race pace.). On the way to my new half and 30K PBs, our paces continued to drop. We'd start tempo sessions doing 3:55s and realize we were going too fast. We hated Wednesdays, but Wednesdays made us better.

THE RACE
I asked the coach for a race plan, telling him my legs were still a little banged up from Around the Bay. I told him my PB was 4:15 pace and that it was soft. He advised me to be careful on the hills and hammer it home from 5-7.5K.

The day was windy, gusting up to 55-60K, and it was a chilly 1C before windchill. I arrived at the site an hour before race start and checked in my bag. I waited for a few minutes, then started a warmup jog, trying to hit around 5K at a recovery pace. That helped me warm up and I realized how beneficial it is to run before a short race. You're not going to hit a wall with 8K and I'd rather have my legs (and heart) ready to go).

I met up with teammate Mike and we lined up in the front corral. We made loose plans to run together, maybe go for 4:10s.

Mike and I. Photo: Alison Post

Race report: Around the Bay 2014

What the hell, I said at the end of a work day, startling my colleague, as I opened the email from the coach. In it contained the Around the Bay game plan that Mike and I would negotiate over the next few days.

In short:

Coach's #aroundthebay plan: start fast, then go faster, tuck into a fast group if you feel fast. And the hill? Take that fast too #fast
— yumke (@yumke) March 26, 2014

More specifically, he wanted us to go out at 4:25s, and think about going 4:20s, targetting a 2:10 30K. His aggressive plan was considered when I bumped into a neighbour of mine who's also on the Black Toe team. We traded war stories. Yes, coach was asking him to attack the course.

What the hell.

At least I could breathe, I told my coach as we finished our last quality session a day later, hammering 1500 metre intervals. We were given more aggressive paces, a 4:00 for 10K, 4:05 for tempo and 4:25 for marathon pace. I was hit by the cold delivered by the neverending winter more than two weeks ago, and while the cold didn't last long, the congestion lingered. Luckily, by last week, it was fading away. I ran through the cold, even did 35K long runs and speedwork. When I emerged, I felt like I was strong.

(Around the Bay 2014 results)

In truth, I'm at the strongest point I've ever been in. I'm lean, nailing faster paces and coming off the 1:29:17 half, I was poised for a strong 30K. But was I set for a PB performance?

The finish inside the Centre

By Saturday, I was consigned to worry about the weather, not the pace. The weather that looked so perfect (7C, light wind, sunny) had turned a little less conducive to fast times, (2C, 50-60 km gusts). I resorted to focusing on my gear and silently picked out my 3:10 marathon pace band, one that had a 30K of 2:15.

The team, other friends and the Daily Mile group converged on FirstOntario Centre. It was, like I had predicted, a huge family reunion, seeing a lot of friends as we waited for the race to start.

Gear: singlet, base layer, singlet

Meanwhile, the weather was turning in our favour. The sun was out, the winds not as strong as we'd thought. Earlier that morning, I had tested the air and went with a light singlet, a base layer with sleeves that could be rolled up, and the team singlet. I went with tights, a touque (figuring wind would not be great for a hat) and a windproof mitt. Out on the starting corral, it seemed I'd made a good call. The garbage bag I took out wasn't needed. I rolled up the sleeves, stood at the front of the Corral B with Mike with our Black Toe singlets.

The goal that Mike and I concocted was to go somewhere between the coach's plan (2:10) and our real goal of going under 2:15 gun time. We both had done six Around the Bays but had never gotten the silver medal. We knew we were going to pass the start line about 20 seconds in so our ultimate slowest time was 2:14. We agreed that we'd take the first 18K smartly, then see what happened. 4:25s seemed like a good call.

First 10K
There is not much to say about the first 10K other than it was nothing like the course I've run the past six times. If I were to give a course description last year, I'd tell you it was 18k flat, then the rest hilly. This first part featured turns, tight streets as we ran toward the park, then a series of rolling hills as we were running up highway overpasses. The hills were real and I believe we had three.