“You actually finished?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Really?”
“…”
Hell, I suppose I’m in disbelief as well. I did it. I really did it.
Yesterday was a very long day. I didn’t get very much sleep the night before. So many thoughts were racing through my head. I had everything laid out and packed as appropriate. I woke up at 11:30 pm though wondering where the heck I’d put my Body Glide. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep properly with that on my mind, so I got up and hunted for it. As I was up, I felt dizzy and disoriented. I was in a bit of a panic because I thought that maybe I was getting sick. That wouldn’t have been great at all. I realized though that it was just because I needed some sleep. I eventually fell asleep, but I was up merely hours later. By 4:30 I was boiling some oatmeal. By 5 it was all in my stomach. When I was all dressed up, I took a good look at myself in the mirror and said “in a few hours it’ll all be done and you’ll have your medal.”
I picked up my friend at 6 am and we headed downtown. As we walked to city hall we spotted other runners walking toward the site. They obviously stood out due to their tanks and short shorts. When we got to city hall it was still quite dark, but there was enough light to see the long bank of portable toilets. Hell, I dunno why that amuses me, but it does. It was hard to spot people from my group in the dark, but we found a few.
God, I was nervous. About 15 minutes prior to start I made my way to the corrals. I indicated that I was expecting to finish in 3 hours so they assigned me to the slowest corral, which also happens to be the corral farthest away from the starting line. See, I expected 3 hours–maybe 2:50 if I was having a good day. As I walked back, I just couldn’t believe how far back it was. For anyone who knows, I was basically at Dundas and Bay while the start was at Queen. Yeah, there were thousands of people there. In the corral I found my current coach, my coach from the 10K clinics that I was in before and some other people from my group. I got a few last minute tips, which I appreciated. I decided to state a few truths out loud just for my benefit:
- “Everyone is feeling the same thing right now”
- “I should stop worrying about things I can’t control”
- “I will enjoy every step”
Then, all at once I suddenly felt this wave of cheering blanket the crowd until it reached us, at which point we were all wondering whether the darn thing started. It was hard to tell because we were so far back. However, we all slowly started moving forward. As we got close to the starting line, we had a laugh that it took us 8 minutes to actually make it to the front. It didn’t matter though because we all had chips on our shoes that recorded when we crossed the line so that we’d have a “real time.”
As soon as I crossed the line I started up. I was entirely determined to run slowly for the first while just so that I would have enough energy banked up to push harder in the second half. People were passing me left and right but it didn’t matter. I thought I was going slow, but when I checked my watch I was actually moving faster than I wanted. What the hell? You just cannot underestimate the pull of the crowd, you know? I just kept at it though and focused more on my perceived effort levels. At the speed I was going I felt like I could keep it up for at least a little while. This wasn’t the first time I’ve raced through the streets of Toronto, but this was decidedly more serious. There was a sense of urgency that I hadn’t felt previously. God, there were so many people. When my watch beeped the end of a 10 minute interval, I moved my wrist up higher and looked behind me to signal that I was slowing down. These walk breaks were interesting to me because the people around me had very staggered 10 minute intervals. As I was nearing the end, some people were just starting to slow down. There was a lot of shuffling around for the first half hour or so. I was able to keep an eye on the 2:30 pace bunny for a little while but soon she pulled far enough ahead that I couldn’t see her anymore. At some point I came to the realization that I wasn’t going to make 2:30.
(As if I had a chance.)
A lot of it was a blur because I was really focused. I remember the crowd thinning out somewhat at about the 7 to 8 kilometre mark. Most of the people had already pulled out ahead and were way out there. That just left us slower people toour own devices. At one point we all started clapping. Apparently the Kenyans were already on their way back from the turnaround. Now seeing them was awe-inspiring. How the heck were they so speedy? Seriously!
Around the 12.2K turnaround, we got some really strong cheering from spectators out in the west end. I actually felt the cheering pulled me along. With every “You can do it, Jason!” (my bib had my name on it above my number) I felt my body straighten out like I had a renewed sense of purpose. I didn’t remember much about the heat being that strong–it was only from the post-race anecdotes that I heard that it was up there. I know though that around 14K or so I really started to slow down. The fatigue was kicking in, but I kept telling myself that it was all in the mind. Sure. Up ahead I could see some of the people that I was around start to pull farther away. That included these two power walkers that seemed to show no sign of letting up. During my run intervals I would slowly pass them, but they’d pull ahead again when I’d be on my walk breaks. There was a lot of give and take for a while. Eventually they did get far enough ahead that I could no longer use them as pacers. I used this Scottish woman in a kilt for a little while too, but she too left me in the dust.
Ooh, it was long going. When I hit the 15K mark I thought: 6K left! Six kilometres is the length of one of our regular courses up in Markham, so I just compared it to one of my more regular runs. That type of visualization really helped. Knowing that I only had a few kilometres left was enough to keep me pumping away. At around 18K or so I noticed that the 2:45 10/1 pace bunny came up from behind with a group of people. I guess I was zoned out because even after seeing her it took me a few moments to realize that I could possibly make 2:45 if I kept up with her. She pulled ahead though as did the group that was following her. I knew that I wouldn’t be way too far behind so I just kept it up. Soon after, two runners from my group pulled up from behind me and encouraged me to keep up with them. I didn’t feel like I had it in me to do so, so they went ahead of me as well. I just kept a steady pace, trying to keep myself composed. I felt alone. Even though there were a lot of people there, I still felt alone.
When I got to 19K I knew that I was close, so I pulled out some energy from my bag o’ tricks and started to up my output. I was going to hurt, but it was for a good reason, so I pushed harder. I passed the two runners that encouraged me just earlier. When I turned the corner to the last 1K stretch, there was a large crowd. Everyone was cheering. It was all uphill though. I just pushed and pushed and pushed. I could hear the crowd shouting “You’re almost there, Jason!” I knew that I’d be emotional, so I told myself “no tears this time, k?” Even though I could feel the pride gushing forth, I just gritted my teeth and used all of the emotion to propel myself. The camera guys were all around so I tried to smile. Even if I was smiling though, I’m sure my eyes betrayed every single thought.
And in one big blur it was over.
My real time? 2:47:02.
Yes, slower than the average person, but fast for me. It’s better than I thought I would do. That’s all that matters, right?
There’s still more with regards to the after party and the general awesomeness of everything, but I think that’s all I can muster for now.
Yes, mom. I did it. I really did it.
Believe: achieve.
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