It was a very interesting run this morning. We were marked to do 21K. As we prepared for our start, I could feel the humidity in the air making me mildly uncomfortable. I imagined that the discomfort would multiply tenfold as I went along. However, I didn’t focus on that. My goal was to run the distance as comfortably as possible. As we started, I could already feel that it was going to be one of those days. The usual pattern followed. Everyone pulled out far ahead leaving me to my own thoughts. There were several times when I thought I was going at a decent clip, but my watch told me otherwise. With the humidity I felt like I was running in some other new weird dimension where the air was viscous. Even though it was supposed to be 23°C (or so) it really felt like the mid-30s. Every step became a struggle.

There were a few times when I started to sink into mild panic. My mind started racing with thoughts. “How am I going to make it back?” “How can I race if I can’t even do this?” I had forcibly clear my mind to get my focus back. “Enough of that shit!” Seriously. It was overcast for the first half of the run, but when the second half rolled around the skies cleared and the sun started beating down mercilessly. I could feel the heat radiating off my skin. There were moments that my irrational mind thought that I’d spontaneously combust.

At about 14-15K the heat really got to me and I just couldn’t run, so I took an early break. Somewhere around that point there’s this long uphill climb that still gets to me on better days. I tried to be consistent with it all the way up, but metres from the top I just slowed to a walk. I didn’t have it in me to crest it. I was just spent. Every time I tried to start up again, my legs rebelled and stopped. It wasn’t even that I was out of energy. I had my carb gels with me and I took them every 45 minutes. Prior to running I had a big bowl of oatmeal. I think I had the fuel to do it, but the engine just wasn’t doing what I wanted it to do. My muscles just felt like shit. As a result, I felt like shit. I resorted to taking longer and longer walk breaks. I tried many times to get myself going, but I just couldn’t sustain it. I felt like mother nature was pulling a prank on me–waving her middle finger in my general direction. From 17K onwards, it’s like I switched from running with walk breaks to walking with running intervals. I was just disheartened.

I was used to saying good morning to everyone I passed along the way. As I neared the store, I was approaching this old couple. I looked at my watch and noticed it was past noon. For the first time, I greeted someone: “good afternoon!” Now THAT struck me as an odd moment, like, “holy shit, I’ve been out here that long.”

In the end, I did make the 21K but about 20 minutes later than what I was gunning for. I was kind of angry at myself. Damn it all! Damn the heat. Damn my body for rebelling. When I entered the store, the manager told me that the coach told her to give me a big thumbs up. Heheh. Greeeeat. I told her that the run was bittersweet. I mean, I sort of covered the distance, but it wasn’t an awesome run at all. A couple of people chimed in that the heat was just brutal. I agreed, but I didn’t want to pin this one all on the heat. Well, the manager told me that the coach and some others were at Tim Hortons and that I should probably drop by. I agreed.

When I got to Timmy’s I got a hug from the coach. She was happy to see me and congratulated me on finishing. I told her about my disappointment but she told me that the heat was completely oppressive. She said that she was close to the point of vomiting a few times, and that a few people that are usually at the front of the pack cut off and didn’t finish. Some other people were close to cutting off as well but kept going. It seems that hearing how everyone else suffered helped put my performance into perspective. I hardly ever hear about how other people did mostly because they’re usually gone by the time I get back. No, it’s not a matter of schadenfreude. I do not take pleasure from hearing my fellow runners’ hardships. However, hearing these stories tells me that no, my troubles are not (totally) because I’m an inept runner. Sure, I may not be the greatest (haaardly), but man…just the fact that I’m out there, instead of being in bed says something about my character.

So, when Scotia rolls around, I am hopeful about two things in particular. First, the weather should be a little bit cooler. Second, the course is billed as being “flat, fun, and festive.” Flat is good–today’s route was ridiculously hilly. Despite today’s less than desirable performance, I have high hopes that the 28th will be a great day.