Can't believe how long it's taken me to get to writing this! Too many other distractions.

Short version: chip time was 3:40:15.7 and since a Boston qualifying time is 4:00, well, the math is pretty straightforward!!! Just as sweet, 9/179 in my category, 138/1145 for all women. I don't want to brag, but quite frankly it all blows me away.

Long version: as always, preparing for the actual race started a couple of days before. That meant no fried foods, no fish or seafood, eating lightly in general, lots of water... We had a company lunch at work on Friday, with Chinese food ordered in, and I would have loved to have a spring roll and maybe even a few deep fried prawns. But resisted and stuck to noodles and rice. Kept up a similar pattern on Saturday, including the now-mandatory-for-out-of-town-races dinner at Quizno's. Hey, it worked for Around the Bay and Kingston ;) With the race starting at 7:00, I pretty much stopped eating by around 5:00 p.m. on Saturday.

Sunday morning we got up at 4:30 and I had my standard pre-race breakfast of Vector energy bar, little bit of caffeine, and hot water. We were on our way just after 6:00, and at that point the temperature was around 11 C, with showers predicted starting about 11:00, and possible thunderstorms in the afternoon. So the starting conditions were practically perfect - overcast, comfortable temp, low humidity, very little wind. I elected to run in just a T-shirt, figuring that my jacket would be too warm (although it was nice to have it while waiting at the start line) and that if it rained it would probably be close to the end and I could tough it out (this is the girl who never runs in the rain, but on race day, you do what you have to do, right?).

At the start line, I unexpectedly ran into Jeff, the guy from the RR forum who we met in Kingston. It was really nice to have someone to talk to and share some good wishes with during those last few minutes. Of course DH was there to send me off with a hug and a kiss and lots of good wishes :)

The race start was very smooth - crossed the line in a little over a minute - and the field spread out quickly. At that point my nerves had pretty much disappeared because we were actually moving and now it was a matter of getting through the next 42.2 km and several hours. Not that I was completely relaxed and treating this like an LSD or anything, but my body was falling into that familiar rhythm.

My planned race strategy was to run the first few km at my "normal" race pace - about 5:00/km - and then slow down a little, get closer to a 3:45 finishing time pace. I had a 3:45 pace band, not planning to follow it exactly, but to use as a quick guide as to whether I was over/under at any given point. I had heard more than one warning about the failure of simple math skills as the km rolled by and the body and mind were both getting fatigued. Well, that plan went by the wayside. I was wearing my running watch, so could easily track my pace at each km, and decided to just run "comfortably". Which meant: run about 5:00/km as long as it felt good and then slow down to 5:15 or 5:30/km. In other words, don't laze along but don't push too hard, either - try to enjoy the run and bank some minutes in case things started to go wrong towards the end.

Having said all of that, my race experience breaks down into four distinct segments:

1) Start line to Gatineau/Hull and back
This section was about 10 km to the point where it climbed Sussex and headed out to Rockcliffe, and it was a good way to begin. From the start line, the course followed a very gentle incline up to the Parliament Buildings before heading gently downhill and then crossing a bridge into Hull. Once in Hull, there were a few hills, but nothing major. I think the biggest was the climb onto the bridge that goes back to Ottawa. Starting off, I did feel a little boxed in during the first km, but by the 2 km mark that was no longer an issue. It was a great first 10 km - running at my favorite time of day, in perfect conditions, feeling good, very conscious of the fact that this was my first marathon and that I wanted it to enjoy it as much as possible. But at the same time remaining aware that there were a lot of km to go and that anything could happen.

The view of Ottawa in the early morning light as we crossed the bridge was lovely, and then DH was there on Sussex to cheer me on, which was really nice! He actually almost didn't see me - was looking into the distance behind me - but I called his name and we connected. No time for a picture, though :( At the 10 km point I was at 49:16, by my watch, and feeling great.

2) Rockcliffe
This was another really good section. The route continued up Sussex, again a bit of a climb but not terrible, and then turned left to do a loop through Rockcliffe until about the 21.5 km point. I had decided to carry water rather than relying on the water stations and that was a really good decision, because then I could have small amounts at shorter intervals, which is much better for my sensitive stomach/GI tract. Can't remember when I first started taking in water - it was somewhere in Hull - but at about 12 km I took a proper break to have some more, and to have a gel. Didn't feel like I needed it, but of course that's part of the idea. The gel went down great, which was a bit of a relief.

At that point I was still cruising at about 5:00/km, and part of me was worried that it was too fast. The other part was reminding me not to stress too much about what was to come, to relax and run easy in the moment, etc. The neverending internal dialogue... Anyway, the Rockcliffe section was very nice - flat, pretty, and a nice cool temp with all the trees. By my watch, I hit the 21.1 mark at about 1:43:5 - much faster than I intended, but still feeling quite good. DH was there to cheer me on up Sussex again (this time he spotted me and got a picture, albeit from a distance) and that was another boost!

On the final climb up Sussex I took another water and gel break just shy of the 22 km point, pretty much on schedule. This was one of the places where I had to remind myself to take my own advice - if you need a water/gel break, just as easy to take it on an uphill as on a flat stretch or a downhill! Still feeling good after the gel although by then was also a little tired, knew I had been running solidly for almost two hours.

3) Colonel By to the 32 km point
Starting down Colonel By - great stretch, lots of spectators cheering for us - I decided that a quick porta potty stop was in order, as much as I hated to have to interrupt the race that way. My bladder wasn't exploding, but it was causing enough discomfort that I was hesitating to drink, and from Around the Bay I knew that not enough water/carbs = not enough energy. So I ducked in very quickly somewhere before the 23 km point, probably losing less than a minute in total. And I had the time - at 24 km, my watch was saying a total time elapsed of just over two hours.

This was where it really started to hit home that I was definitely on track to a sub-4:00 finish, and quite possibly a sub-3:45. And there were butterflies in my stomach doing flip flops. At the same time, my brain was computing that there were still 18 km to go, and that nothing could be taken for granted, that there was still a lot of running to do. But I was definitely feeling as though the marathon was going well, and that I could finish.

The first rain started at about the 25 or 26 km point, which produced an instant feeling of dismay. However, it wasn't bad, and let up after a short time, so I was hopeful that it would hold off until the end. Aside from the rain, that was a nice section - mostly a gradual downhill and beside the canal. Most of the time there was a lot of space around me, but still enough people to feel the energy of the race. At some point there was a sign with a saying by Lance Armstrong - "Pain is temporary, quitting is forever" that stuck in my mind and became important later.

My pace up to around the 28 km mark was still averaging about 5:00/km - slowed up a bit here and there to adjust my water belt and have a drink, but nothing major. At one point I dropped the package of tissues that was tucked into my belt, and didn't notice for a few steps. Felt bad, because I hated to litter, and also hated to be without a reserve supply for my eternally stuffy nose, but no way it made sense to go back and pick them up...

Around the 28 km point, my glutes were really starting to tighten up. It wasn't really painful, but it was uncomfortable. And surprising. It wasn't something I experienced on my long runs or in other races. Maybe it was the long gradual downhill? Whatever - no choice but to deal with it, so I decided to slow down a bit.

When I crossed the 30 km timing belt at about 2:31 (by my watch), my left side was starting to recover but my right leg was starting to have some real problems. By the 32 km point, it was very tight and extremely painful from my hip to my knee.

4) 32 km to finish line
Okay - throughout training, one truism was never too far away: "anything can happen on race day". And here was something happening that I had never experienced and never would have predicted... I was sort of prepared for tight calves, sore quads, maybe some noise from the old injury in my left hip - all things that had happened on training runs - but not for this huge pain on the right side. Several days later, I'm a little bit at a loss trying to describe it. It was somewhat centered on my hip, but beyond that I couldn't possibly say which individual muscles were hurting because it seemed that they were all hurting. Not "normal" stiff, or "normal" sore - more like everything had seized up and set itself on fire. Okay, maybe the "on fire" part is a little bit of an exaggeration, but only a little bit. It really, really hurt.

At this point I was glad to have Mr. Armstrong's quote in my head, because things were getting pretty miserable. It was now starting to rain in earnest, somewhere around that point was a bit of a hill, and although my energy was still pretty good, I was fighting this sudden and unexpected pain. And also realising that I had no experience at running with or through pain. Overall fatigue, yes. "Dead" legs, that too. Sore muscles, BTDT. But acute pain? Never. The only thing I can compare it to is the day that my left hip just went on me - one minute I was running and within a few steps it felt like the joint was going to crumble and I could barely walk. Recovered enough to hobble back to the gym, but never considered trying to run any further. This time, because there did seem to be some pain radiating out from the right hip, part of me was afraid that it was all happening again. However, unlike before, I could keep moving and didn't feel like something was breaking. But neither was it functioning all that well...!

And so I did keep moving, but not as fast as before and not as fast as I would have liked. The km between 32 and 33 km took 6:41, since I was walking for part of it, having some more water, digging out a few sport beans to make sure the energy stores stayed high... My not-always-steady guts were rebelling at the thought of a third gel, so I was glad to have brought the beans along. I was hoping an extended walk break would help relieve what was happening, and to a certain extent it did. But not very much.

So from that point until the finish, I was doing a run-walk mixture - running until I couldn't take the pain, then switching to a walk while trying to stretch and massage my leg, then running again... It was not much fun, to say the least. Especially with the rain! At no point, though, did I seriously consider actually quitting - would have walked all the way to the finish line if that's what it took.

Thanks to my watch, I was able to look back and calculate that km's 34 - 39 averaged about 5:30/km - longest was 5:48 and shortest was 5:00. At the time, it felt much slower, but that's not surprising, given that almost every step hurt. Despite my attempts to walk and massage things out, there was no indication that running was going to get any easier. Things got a little more complicated around the 36 km point when the half marathon runners merged with the marathon runners - slow as I was, I was still trying to dodge around people who were part of this sudden influx. Then dropping back for another walk break.

I don't remember the exact point at which it was clear that, even if I walked the remaining distance, I would finish at 4:00 or under. I do remember getting to the 39 km point, with my time at around 3:20, and being tempted to do just that. It wouldn't have been a great way to get a BQ, but it would be a BQ. But of course I wanted to run and have a relatively strong finish. Not to mention, get to the end so that I could let my poor leg have a rest...!

The last few km's are a bit of a blur. The half and full merging had its good and bad points. More runners equals more energy and increased the "I can do it" feeling. The bad point was feeling stuck in a crowd. Anyway, my last three km times probably tell the story best: 7:08, 6:00, 6:54. Yes, I was hurting and slow!!! But somehow managed to pick it up between the 750 m and 500 m markers to finish running pretty strongly. At the 500 m marker I recall thinking, "That's only four times around the indoor track - and since when can't you do a lousy four times around the indoor track?!?", talking myself into keeping the legs going. If there is a finish line picture, it probably shows me looking more dazed than happy. But inside there was a sudden welling of happiness, but also complete, overwhelming disbelief at the realisation that I'd really completed a marathon AND within a Boston qualifying time!

Unfortunately, although I was very impressed and pleased with the way the race was organized, the actual finish was awful. Because of the merging of the marathoners and the half marathoners, just past the finish line everyone was jammed together. I was able to walk a very short distance and get a silver cape (much appreciated!), but then after that people were barely moving. Just too many people for the space and the number of volunteers. The chutes were jammed, and then once we were out of the chutes, with the next area being through the recovery zone and out to the meeting areas, the crowd literally wasn't moving. When moving, we were taking baby steps. It took over 15 minutes to get to where DH and I had arranged to meet, most of that time spent standing still. Of course, one of the worst things you can do after a long race is to stand still - although the pain in my right leg was easing up because I'd stopped trying to run on it, I could feel the rest of my muscles stiffening. And despite the silver cape, my temperature was dropping and I was starting to get quite cold.

So in some ways it felt pretty anti-climatic - normally you would have a chance to walk around, stretch your legs, get used to the idea that the running was over, start to process how it went, etc. Instead, my entire focus was on getting out of the crowd and staying warm. Although I had originally planned to get my medal engraved - and especially wanted to do so since it was a BQ time - there was no way I was willing to hang around and battle the crowds and even try. With the rain and feeling so cold, especially, it just wasn't worth it. There are people right here in Toronto who will do the engraving for a minimal sum :)

DH and I did meet up, and made our way back to the car and then to the Ottawa Y for a nice, hot, take-the-post-race-chill-off shower. After which we met up with some relatives, one of whom had done the 10 K the night before, and some others who had done the Family 2 K that morning. Beer, food, company - it's all good.

Of course I have spent much time processing what went right and what went wrong. Except for the right leg, which I don't think could have been predicted, I think it mostly went right. Enough water, enough energy, no hitting the Wall. It wouldn't have been realistic to maintain a 5:00/km pace for the whole thing, but my difficulty near the end was mostly due to the leg, not to being too tired. My guess is that I would otherwise have done the last 10 km at a pace somewhere between 5:15 and 5:30/km, maybe 6:00/km at the very end, based on how everything else felt. But who knows? Maybe having to walk gave me energy that I otherwise wouldn't have had, and maybe without those forced breaks the Wall would have been real.

So now what?

Well, my legs are pretty much back to normal by now, but there is still some pain and/or awareness in my hips. Both the old site in my left hip (which didn't start until well after the race itself) and some in my right. Not excruciating, not debilitating, but not normal. I have an ART session scheduled for Monday night and will assess things after that. My biggest fear, as always, is a stress fracture. No reason to believe that's the case - lots of people experience lots of pain during long races and don't have stress fractures - but it would be stupid to ignore the possibility. I had already planned on taking two weeks off, and maybe that will stretch into as much as a month. In mid-June I'll be out West for a week, and it's often not convenient to run out there, so rather than run for the one week in between break and travel, maybe I'll just not run at all. That still leaves three months to train for the September 30 marathon.

Assuming no serious injuries or lack of training, it will be really interesting to see what a second marathon is like. No doubt I'll be nervous and full of anxiety before, but the distance is no longer an unknown quantity. The ability to drink and gel over that distance is something I've now done. Presumably if something starts to feel tight and/or painful, by then I'll have learned some techniques to deal with that.

One thing I would like is to do at least one LSD that's longer than 32 km. It doesn't have to be much longer, but with the way my mind works, I'd like to know that I'd done more of the distance and done it pain-free. Well, relatively pain-free - can't imagine doing a long distance at any pace and not having some stiffness and fatigue! It would be a real mental boost while out on the course.

Then after September, of course, comes Boston in April 2008...as unreal as that seems...

Getting late and this is very long already, so enough for now.