This past weekend was the Toronto International Marathon and as many of you know, the half marathon was to be my first race in a year and a half. Truth be told, I don't really have a very good track record when it comes to racing!!! I am a very strong, disciplined and consistent runner when I am in training but, for some reason, come race day, I lose all ability to pace myself, to focus properly and I end up spending the entire race "chasing" everything...chasing the finish line...chasing the pace bunnies...and most of all, chasing a goal that I always seem to forget isn't etched in stone!! Frankly, it's exhausting (and running 21.1 kilometres is tiring enough all by itself!!!).
Throughout my running career, I have run two 5km races, four 10km races, two half marathons and one full marathon, and for each and every one of those experiences, I have crossed the finish line feeling incredibly sore, terribly ill from the degree to which I have pushed myself and worst of all, never quite satisfied with the time that I clocked. It's a frustrating pattern to have and over time, has depleted my spirit when it comes to racing.
Despite the fact that I have had one of my best training seasons to date (training consistently at a 2 hour pace), as we were driving to Toronto on Saturday morning, those feelings of anxiety and apprehensiveness came rushing back with blunt force. I had butterflies in my stomach, nervous energy and I wasn't sleeping well...all of which were familiar signs of the race to come.
Sunday morning came with beautiful sunshine, brisk air but fortunately, no wind...all very good running conditions for this time of year. Right away though, I found myself getting lost in the excitement of the crowd and all the runners. My breathing was short and my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest...and along with that came the discouragement that I had seen and felt this all before.
We started our race on time and like my previous races, I was out of pace, my breathing was very shallow and in turn, my muscles were beginning to feel sore and tight. Already, I could feel the sickness setting in and the anticipation of how I was going to feel at the finish line was making me cringe. About four kilometres into the race, I spotted the 2:15 pace bunnies and for the next eight kilometres, I proceeded to run my little heart out in hopes of moving ahead enough to potentially reach my goal of a two hour finish. Instead, every time I watched the pace bunny catch up to me, I felt a little more discouraged and my heart broke a little bit more at the thought of watching yet another race become "unsuccessful".
At about ten kilometres, we left the excitement and chaos of Yonge street and proceeded into a five kilometre stretch through a beautifully calm and peaceful residential area. I took my MP3 player off and decided to try and regulate my breathing enough to make another pass at finding the 2:00 pace bunny. By this time though, I was sore and the temperature was dropping really quickly as the clouds took over our formerly sunny sky. I finally needed to stop on route to stretch out my legs (and pop two more tylenols) when I saw the 2:15 pace bunny starting to catch up to me again. I immediately, despite the screaming calf muscles, sprinted ahead, determined not to let this race be like all the others.
Suddenly, just past the twelve kilometre mark...something happened!!! Actually, something more than just "happened"...something changed!!! At that moment, I decided that I was tired of living my life constantly "chasing" things instead of enjoying things...and that included my running!!! In turn, I ended up stopping dead in my tracks and I waited there, on the side of the road, until the 2:15 bunny not only passed me, but was out of sight. Somehow, in doing so, it released me of my need to evaluate my success solely by the numbers on the clock. Shortly there after, a smile crept up on my face and I began to run again, slowly at first and then as I started to feel better, my pace increased with my smile!!!
The Running Room often jokes that some of the slower pace groups in training are called the "smiling at the finish" groups!!! Though it's certainly said lovingly and affectionately (because it's quite often that much harder the longer you take), there is something to be said for this statement and also something that all of us (atleast me) can learn from it.
Running is a sport that is often measured by numbers; your time, your distance, the number of hills you fit into a training session, your heart rate, the number on the scale and and and....but just like in life, there are times when you come to realize that you've truly done everything you can do and that it's time to just sit back and enjoy the ride and start measuring your success by the quality of the memories you have. When I stopped running at kilometre twelve, it was because I very suddenly and abruptly realized that this race had absolutely nothing to do with the finish line because no amount of effort I put into this race was ever going to compare to the amount of effort it took me to get to the start line. That was what really matter...that I started in the first place.
I always thought that the reason I wasn't a very good racer was because I got too caught up in the crowd and the excitement, and would end up losing my focus. Yesterday I realized that doing so wasn't a bad thing, in fact, it was the very reason that I loved racing in the first place...the excitement!! I learned that there was no point in putting so much effort into getting myself to the start line if I wasn't going to enjoy the priviledge of being able to run and be smiling at the finish line!!
I spent the last eight kilometres of my race taking everything in!!! Though my muscles were quite sore from the hills (you don't realize just how flat the canal is until you race somewhere else!!!), the wind and the decreasing temperature throughout the race, I had the most amazing time!!! I stopped to hug friends and family along the way who had travelled to watch me run...I helped an injured runner get to an aid station (and later watched him finish)...and I even stopped to go to the bathroom (something that, as many runners know, can easily add five to ten minutes on your time that are not easily made up later on...hence, you try to hold out until the finish line!!). It was a race unlike anything I had experienced before because, for the first time, I decided to enjoy the journey and not just the destination!!!
2006 has been a tumultuous year for me, wrought with challenges, both medically and personally. It has been both physically and emotionally exhausting to try to overcome them but, in a split second after twelve kilometres of running...the light bulb finally turned on and the road ahead seemed so much brighter. Life (and racing) didn't have to constantly be a means to an end...it could be a bunch of baby steps that eventually finds you with a medal around your neck...not for winning but, for enduring...for going the distance inspite of the obstacles, the challenges, and most of all, inspite of the things that we tell ourselves during those times.
I finished my race in two hours and eighteen minutes! It was the most fun that I ever had in my running shoes and for the first time ever, I cried at the finish line...happy that I had finished...sad that it was over...and excited at all that was to come.
In the past, I would have spent the next five hours just trying to keep something in my stomach long enough to refuel my body but this time, all of my friends and family joined me for a nice warm coffee (complete with whipped cream, caramel sauce and chocolate shavings on mine!!!) and we shared all of our funny stories. My husband and I later drove back to Ottawa and instead of taking in as much Tylenol as I could...I just watched the world go by and could hardly wait to lace up my shoes again!!
I've always believed that life offers you signs every day in order to help guide you in the right direction. More times than not, the problem is that we either don't take the time to look for them or we just refuse to see them. I've passed many signs in my time and never given them a second glance but, when I crossed the finished line yesterday, a gentleman in front of me had a sign staring me right in the face that said "Your greatest legacy will not be never having failed, it will be the number of times you get up when you fall."
For the first time in my life...I would have to agree!!
