A sunny day in Mississauga

I’m sure this is going to be a long one…

I started my trek over to the burb at 6 a.m. By the time I got to the offramp, there was a really big glut of people trying to turn onto the street and park at the mall. I didn’t want to fight my way onto Rathburn, so I went past the line up, turned around, looped around a side road, and before I knew it I was well ahead of the crowd. Ha!

It was ridiculously breezy when I stepped out of the car. Back at home I was debating whether I should bring my running jacket. I’m completely glad that I did. The starting chute was quite long. There were signs on the side trying to get people to line up according to their predicted finish times, with the slower people toward the rear. If I’m being honest, I was just happy to not be in the group right at the end. While waiting in the corral, I made it a point to just smile widely. I mean, it was a nice day, and I was out there doing something that, when I think about it, is rather insane. As the crowd gathered for the starting gun, I looked around me and saw more looks of anxiety than pleasure. Heh.

Detail of the run itself after the jump.

Gosh, I admire Mayor Hazel McCallion. 88 years old and she’s still going strong.

When the gun was shot we felt the energy of the crowd, but we weren’t able to move for a few minutes. It actually took me 8 minutes to cross the starting line from where I was. I started out a little bit fast. Upon me realization that I was being speedier than I wanted to be, I slowed down to something sensible. Left and right, people were rushing past, which made me think: if I was near the back of the chute, where were all of these speedy people coming from? What the heck? The crowd around me did thin out a little bit, but I was still around a good number of people, thankfully.

The course wound through some really beautiful parts of Mississauga. The first three or four kilometres were ever-so-slightly uphill. I think my shins could tell, because they weren’t exactly feeling the greatest. Off on the sides of the road I could see a good number of discarded sweaters and gloves. I could understand not wanting to be encumbered, but just tossing things like sweaters at the side? That seems like an expensive decision. Water stations were found at every 2K. I made it a point to zone in on one person, point, and say “YOU!” It worked well. For sure, I would call the course hilly. Luckily, a good part of it was downhill.

At around 6.5K, the course started winding around the Erindale campus of U of T. Around one part, I saw a pai of women duck around behind a few trees. When the started to squat, I directed my eyes forward once again. Up ahead there was a first aid station where the attendants were kind of giggly. I could hear some cries of “Don’t look! Don’t look!” between the laughter. Apparently they had a clear view of the peeing women. Hah.

Around 10K, there was a rather large hill. Right before I could hear grumblings from runners around me. I wanted to yell out “think of your hill training!” but I didn’t have the energy to spare on yelling. A large amount of people just decided to walk up the hill. I knew that this would be my chance to make some gains. I attacked it slowly, but surely. I pulled ahead of this one couple. Behind me I could hear the guy talking to his wife about how I must run a lot because of the definition in my calves. OK, so I’m not entirely sure that he was talking about me, but I will pretend.

After the big hill, the course was generally a gradual down hill affair. Along the road there were some really big beautiful houses. I was surprised at just how many people were out on the sidelines cheering for us. Sure, it’s not like the route was lined with people, but there were many clusters of spectators–all of which were enthusiastic. I ended up hi-fiving a bunch of 6 year old girls at the side of the road. Why not? In front of a seniors’ home there were a bunch of old people with a banner. I greeted them with a warm “good morning.” It certainly was a good morning, you know? There was one woman who was offering us orange slices. The people in front of me didn’t want to partake of her fruit, but I dove right in. Again, why not? Besides, if a guy with a camera saw me with an orange slice smile, it would make a good picture.

Oh, speaking of which, there were a lot of camera people on route. After last year’s Scotia experience where the only pictures of me had me hunched over and looking like I was going to keel over, I wanted to make sure that this time around there would be a lot more happier and confident photos to be found. So, whenever I saw a camera, I was sure to smile and give a thumbs up or a peace sign, or otherwise some sign of being in good condition.

I would characterize my run as being strong in general. I had a target average pace that I wanted to set. I worked hard to come close. I settled into a pace that was a few seconds slower, but overall I felt good. I had the strength to speed up on some stretches without feeling utterly gross. Thing is, suddenly at around the 18K mark or so I was hit by killer fatigue. For the most part I was more than able to maintain my run/walk intervals, but at 18K I had to slow down and take frequent breaks. There were a few moments where I started to feel bits of panic. I mean, I was looking at my watch telling me that there was no way I’d make my super-happy-fun-goal. I was fearing that the fatigue was going to prevent me from finishing respectably. I had to gather my thoughts and collect my nerve just to push forward again.

Somewhere after 19K, we got some notice from the race marshals that the marathon leader was coming in and that us mortals would have to squeeze to the right of this already narrow part of the course. I did so, and there went the Kenyan. I started clapping loudly. I looked to the woman behind me to share my disbelief. That’s when we had this exchange, which amused me:

“Was that…?”
“Yes.”
“NO…”
“Yes.”
“NOOO…”
“Yes.”
“OMG.”
“I know!”
“That’s crazy!”
“I know!”

All along the last kilometre or so there were a good number of people on the sidelines exclaiming “you’re almost there!” Except that I knew that I really wasn’t. It just wouldn’t have been prudent of me to tell all of them to shut up. I felt like the finish line wasn’t coming any time soon. Even when I could spot the finish chute, I couldn’t see the actual finish line and that kind of pissed me off. With about 400 metres left, my right calf started cramping. My first thought was “OH CRAP.” I started hobbling a little bit, but knew that I was in no position to stop. So I just ran through the discomfort and eventually the spasming died down enough.

And then, just like that it was over. I shaved off 13-14 minutes from my time at Scotia! Woohoo! My chip time is listed as 2:33:22.07. I can’t lie: I was mildly disappointed I didn’t break 2:30, but God, just cutting off such a huge chunk of time is a huge accomplishment. I can’t be down on myself. As I walked through the chute, I was smiling ear to ear. That’s how it should be, you know? I got my medal and was ready to call it a day. After picking up soe post-race food, I found a bench and plopped down to stretch.

I feel accomplished. There are, of course, some things that I know I have to work on. I know that I have to adjust my gel usage. I’m used to taking them at 45 minute intervals. If I’m running a 2:30 race though, the 2:15 gel happens too late. By then, I imagine that anything I would take wouldn’t be processed fast enough to give me the boost I need. I don’t like the feeling of running out of gas so close to the end. Next race I need to make sure I have a more tempered start. Starting out too fast does not help at all. Next time I want to aim for 2:20 to 2:30.

Overall, I’m happy. This race took me through some really beautiful parts of the city. More than anything, I just need a good long rest. Well deserved!

Possibly related posts:

1. Bad knees before race day
2. Canada Day
3. One day at a time