Well, supposedly Blogger saves my posts automatically, and I'm sure that I noticed it auto-saving, but the post I was almost finished regarding today's run disappeared completely when my browser crashed. Great. Since I don't feel like doing it all over again, the highlights are: 17.27 km in 1:27:09 (per Garmin), started late so was running in sunny 19 C (warmer than I like), did an out and back on the bicycle paths starting at Pottery Road. And love this "non-training" running :)

Friday was a good run too, about 10.6 km at very close to 5:00/km. Since that included a climb up the long hill I was very happy with the overall time, given that I was intentionally doing a "fast run". I haven't worked out my ATB/Boston training schedule yet but one thing I know is that it must include Friday runs. I don't really know what it is, but on the rare occasions that I don't run Friday morning, the rest of the day just doesn't feel right.

Aside from running, this has been a busy weekend, and not at all in a fun way. There are just so many things to do in the house and yard, and since we're expecting guests from Thursday-Sunday this week, the effort was intensified this weekend to get things done before they arrive. Also, the weather was reasonable and so DH and I had to take advantage of that while we could. Yesterday's chores: hauling pieces of smashed-up concrete to the end of our back yard to sub for the real wall we're going to have built next year, loading remaining pieces into trailer to be hauled away, sweeping leaves and debris from patio and driveway (like emptying an ocean with a bucket this time of year, but whatever), cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming downstairs, hemming curtains, one load of laundry. Today's chores: washing front door and inside of front porch roof, windexing doors, windexing windows, scrubbing front porch and steps, raking back yard, sweeping patio and driveway, four loads of laundry. DH was just as busy and we still didn't get everything done that we had on our list. But we have to work tomorrow, so those things will either get done in the evenings or left.

Really, I am tired of this. Tired of working all week and then working most of the weekend. Or feeling guilty about not working most of the weekend. The easy answer is "hire someone to do that stuff for you". But that's really not the best use of our available funds right now. It would be so nice to win the lottery (note: I've got a better chance of running a 3:20 marathon than winning the lottery).

On a more positive note, DH and I went out with a group from the gym on Thursday and did some hill training. Confession: I liked it. Granted, it wasn't the most onerous hill training out there. But it was a good hill, and I went up it four times, and two of those were at the minimum pace they should be (for me). Plus the guy who introduced the hill to us gave his best pace on it, so I have something to shoot for.

Cross-training tomorrow and then probably some easy running on Tuesday. Maybe hills again on Thursday and then after that I'm not sure. Much will depend on our visitors and what they want to do. I would love to get in my usual Friday run.

Wow, I had a great run today. Actually, in many ways it wasn't anything special, but it was my longest run (18.3 km) since the marathon and also my first run by myself. On Tuesday and Thursday I went out with other people from the gym and really enjoyed it, especially the Thursday where we went to a new area (for me) and did some gentle hill repeats. And I had planned to run on Friday, then today, but then remembered that we were going out with people on Saturday evening and that I probably wouldn't feel like getting up early and running today. So no way was I going to run Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Anyway, yesterday although the temperature was not actually that cold, there was quite a strong, cold-ish wind, and after spending three hours working outside in the yard with DH I just decided to go today instead. And I'm sure substituting the elliptical on Friday was an equally good workout.

DH and I both went out around 12:30 today (I was right about not wanting to get up early) and the conditions were really nice. 12 or 13 C, only light winds, overcast - very comfortable. I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and capris, and shorts would have been better, but it wasn't hugely uncomfortable. My plan was to go for an hour and a half, so no need to carry water, no gels, no fuel belt - what a pleasant change overall from all those long marathon training runs!

My initial pace was way too fast to be sustainable, and I knew it, but didn't care. It just felt so good to be out there moving without any time pressures, or concerns about running too hard in training. About half an hour in I did five hill repeats on a fairly short and gentle hill (about 30 seconds up), then continued on and veered a little off course to do one long, fairly steep hill that I hadn't run before, then turned around and went for a while before doing another long, fairly steep hill that I also hadn't run before, and then had to climb one last, winding hill to get onto my route home. The hills definitely slowed me down (was really just plodding up the long ones), although by that point I had already slowed up anyway. Final run time was about 1:34, so less than race pace, but still pretty fast.

I love, love, love these non-training intervals. I really want to do Boston (got the official confirmation on Friday, yippee!), and want to have a good run (i.e.: don't want to lose it on the hills or anywhere else, want to enjoy the experience), but I love running just to run. Not having to do X number of miles, slowing down a little to have fun running with someone else and not worrying about the exact mileage, not worrying about the long-term impact of subbing a day on on the elliptical, all of that stuff.

But I will train for ATB and Boston. Specifically, I will do a lot more hill training. One of the people I was out with on Thursday said he loves hill training because it builds endurance without the injury risk of speedwork. And I can completely see where he is coming from with that. One reason I don't (or hardly ever) do speedwork is that I don't like it. But part of me also worries about injury because I'm not sure that my hips are really into running those flat out intervals. But I'll try it over the winter and see how it goes.

It would definitely be good to bump up my endurance. I was extremely happy with my Scotiabank time and with the quick recovery, but I'd love to have been able to keep up the pace for those last few km. Actually, if I look at my data for the last 1.2 km, it's almost exactly 5:00 minutes/km, so according to my watch that determination near the end had a bigger effect than I realised at the time. Okay, so it was less than a minute's worth of time, but having been able to get back to that pace for that long makes me happy.

But that was a pretty much flat course and I'm not at all confident that at my current fitness level I would have been able to bump to that pace near the end after doing a bunch of hills. Five and six months from now I'd like to feel that much stronger. Right now I think about the hills in Boston and kind of cringe...

So, although formal training doesn't start until sometime in November (need to pull a few programs from the internet and come up with a hybrid that will work for me), I'm going to start incorporating more hill repeats into my day to day runs. Relatively easy ones, to start, but working up to multiple assaults on Potter Road with minimal loss of endurance. It will be painful but do-able.

Next run scheduled for Tuesday - probably a fairly easy one. Then I think the same group is supposed to do repeats on another hill on Thursday. I'll probably run by myself on Friday and again on Sunday. Hope next week feels as good as this one!

Running time, and time while running - two examples of how subjective the concept of "time" is.

One of the potentially offputting aspects of running, particularly when it comes to training for something like a marathon, is the sheer amount of time that it takes. And for the most part, it's not really a flexible amount of time. Unlike other, non-physical jobs, being more focussed and concentrating harder isn't going to get your scheduled distance finished any faster. Or at least not to any meaningful extent.

It wasn't until I started training for ATB that I truly appreciated the sheer amount of time involved. Intellectually, sure, but not in that gut-level-this-is-consuming-my-life way. Until that point, my longest runs had been half marathons, and my longest training runs were probably no more than an hour and a half. It is possible that I did the full distance in advance at least once, but I don't remember for sure and certainly wouldn't put money on it.

Along came ATB and the joy of more training. Two hours. 2:15. 2:30. The longest was probably 28 km in 2:40. And those weekend runs start to involve more commitment. Because, of course, it's not just about the run. It's also about all those peripherals to the run. Getting up early enough to eat something in time for it to digest. Different transportation to a different gym with a bigger track. More time worrying about clothes, and water, and all the little bits and pieces that seem to go along with running for an extended period of time. Longer cool downs and post-run recovery time in the shower.

It was worth it, of course, but upon finishing ATB came the decision to ramp up to a marathon and then there was an even bigger time commitment. And to a certain extent my conscious mind didn't want to deal with the requirements, just wanted to let the body take over. Because to think about it in advance, in terms of time, was so intimidating. "Let's see: LSD of 28 km. It took me 2 1/2 hours to run 30 km, and that was a race. An LSD is supposed to be slower. So let's say it should take somewhere around 2:40. That means I'm going to go out and run two hours and forty minutes pretty much without any significant breaks. Okay... Well, let's just keep putting one foot in front of the other and try not to think about the total time involved..."

Everyone must work out their own strategies for dealing with this (or at least everyone who feels a need to deal with this). Sometimes I would map out a route in advance that was the right length, and try not to think too much about the time, just about getting to the next point. Sometimes I would concentrate on an approximate time for the required distance, and just run that time. Eventually my preferred approach became training with the Garmin, which would tell me how far I'd gone, and let me maintain flexibility in determining how much further to go in which directions in order to reach a point that would fulfill the distance requirement and have me finishing close to home.

And strangely enough, most of the time, once actually running, the total time didn't seem to be such a big deal. It just was. As long as my legs and lungs still had the energy, it was sometimes a source of some amazement, but not of overwhelming strain. Of course, there were some rather miserable runs in the heat, when I simply refused to dwell on the fact that I had X amount of time left, at minimum, in order to get this week's LSD out of the way. And towards the end of the really long runs - the 30+ km runs, the peak weeks of training, I was feeling both the distance and the time. Oh, how I was feeling it! Especially that 38 km - I am so glad to have done it, and will do it again because it seemed to work for me, but that was one heck of a long haul...

Almost invariably, once the run was out of the way, would be this sense of wonder that it happened at all. So many times I'd be getting ready to shower after, peeling off my salt-streaked clothes and sort of not believing that my body had just covered that distance under its own steam, in a relatively short period of time, and in the main was no worse for wear. At least nothing that some stretching, a shower, some ice and some just plain resting wouldn't fix. And then it would be ready to do it all over again, maybe plus some, a week later.

It was a bit of a strange feeling at the point where 21.1 km no longer seemed like a such a big deal. As a race, sure. Races are always a big deal, always produce lots of anxiety. But as a long run? Not so much. Eminently do-able. During a half marathon, 16 km was always my danger zone, the point where it would feel the whole run was collapsing, and I still get some anxiety as that point approaches. But by and large it's become just another km along the way. After Sunday, I have a feeling that my new scary point (assuming everything else is okay) is somewhere around 34 km. With more training perhaps that will pass as well.

Time spent racing is its own convoluted story. Until the last year or so, I spent most of my time running a certain time, not a certain distance. Periodically checking the distance to get an idea of average speed, but mostly just running for whatever time I had available. Naturally there were days when the clock seemed to move so slowly, and it was just a matter of keeping going in the knowledge that it never actually stopped and that in the same time as always my run would be finished.

But somehow, in a race, time speeds up. There were a few times towards the end of Scotiabank where the seconds seemed to be moving so slowly, but that's atypical. In a half marathon, where my standard goal is to do the distance in no more than 1:45, the minutes for each km seem to tick off so quickly, and I am forever checking the total time to see if it's averaging 5:00/km. And even in my two marathons, the first hour, even the first two hours, were gone before I knew it. And it didn't seem so bad to think, "Okay, distance more than half gone, time should be more than half gone too, you can do it..."

Of course, I also know that awful feeling at a point where a race is not going well, and my "banked" time gets used up, and then I'm into extra time, and just can't move any faster, and the minutes seem to be going by like seconds. When I look at my km by km data from Ottawa, and see that 39 to 40 km was over 7 minutes, I remember how that felt - hurting, not able to keep any kind of pace, and the banner nowhere in sight as the time just piled up...

Ah well - no races in sight until ATB, and we are just around the corner (sort of) from winter. There will be lots of time for the minutes to pass slowly while running on the treadmill or the indoor track. Last year we were running outside quite often right up to the end of December - hope we can manage the same this year. Doing the hamster impersonation gets rather trying...

Quick note: recovery from last Sunday seems to be complete and it was very tempting to run today. But I'm superstitious enough to stick to the Tuesday plan. However, I did have a pretty good stationary bike and elliptical workout. Still had energy to burn - definitely need to get out there again and work some of it off!

Personal bests. Love them? Love them not?

On the one hand, there is no denying - I wouldn't even try - the thrill of running a better time than you have done before. On the other, if running is an eternal quest for a new personal best, then is it unavoidable that not getting one takes away some of the joy of the run itself? To a certain extent that's been my experience, and it bothers me.

My first half marathon, back in 2001, I really had no clue what to expect. No formal training plan - didn't even occur to me - I figured you trained by running gradually longer runs. But never did more than 14 or 15 km, and that only a couple of time. Plus I had no idea what an organized run was like (and I use the word "run" deliberately, because that's exactly how I saw it - race? - huh?), and went into it feeling kind of unprepared for the whole experience. It was F1 who had encouraged me to do the run, and he and his wife were supposed to be there, but something came up so it was just DH and I who drove to Kingston and navigated this thing on our own. Two complete novices without a clue. There is actually a kind of funny story about DH but I won't get sidetracked now.

In any event, it was really a beautiful day, weather wise, and I did well, finishing under 1:44. Kind of hit the wall somewhere around 15 or 17 km, but pulled through and a had a good finish. I still remember how exciting it was to pass the 20 K marker and know that I was going to run to the end and actually complete a half marathon.

Next year we went back for half marathon #2. This time F1 was there, doing the 5 K along with his wife and DH, and another friend was also doing the half. I hate to say this, but it's the truth - I only remember a few bits and pieces of this run. Starting out with our friend and quickly moving ahead, tossing my fleece to DH and F1 and F1's wife when they came out to cheer at a certain point, hearing that it was 48 minutes at the 10 km point and thinking, "that's awfully fast", hitting the wall again, probably somewhere around 16 km, and then finishing with no one there to watch. Why? Because I was early. This was my personal best, just under 1:41, and no one, least of all me, expected that to happen. I must have been pretty pumped about taking almost three minutes off the previous year's time, but had no sense that this was unusual.

So of course it was a terrible letdown to be over 1:42 in 2003, and then from 2004 to 2006 to have times ranging from just under 1:46 to 1:50 (the last largely due to injury recovery but it wasn't my strongest day to begin with, and the new course with more hills that was introduced in 2005 didn't help). The first two years were too easy, and somehow I expected to keep taking off time, to get down to 1:40. And I've been chasing the Holy Grail of my 2002 PB ever since - no run has ever been quite good enough because it's always been more than 1:41.

It has only recently occurred to me that the Kingston course with my PB wasn't certified, and it's entirely possible that it wasn't actually the full 21.1 km, and that in running since on certified courses I've been chasing something that never actually happened. My 1:43 at last year's Scotiabank felt like a fast half and yet it still came up two minutes short. Who knows?

But it bothers me that I care about this, that I don't have the same feeling of satisfaction just from completing a half that I had the very first time. Despite the fact that I'm actually, in many ways, a better runner now, can go for longer distances, don't hit the wall at 16 km, aren't as sore afterwards, etc. Bothers me to the point where I plan to train, train, train for the Scotiabank Half next year with the overarching goal of 1:41 or less. Just because now that I'm a better runner I have to prove that by doing a certain time.

It's really kind of nuts. Why is it good enough and an accomplishment for everyone else to just get out there and run a distance, but not me?

Case in point: Around the Bay in March of this year. Both F1 and I did better than we had expected and were very happy that we had done the race. F1: "That was great! Let's do it again next year!" Me: "No way - I'm never going to be able to do it in this good a time again".

Who cares?!?! Running 30 km is still an achievement! And I had a great time doing it so why not do it again? Anyway, I knew that I was being stupid and did agree to go back in 2008. But part of me is truly relieved that ATB is three weeks before Boston and that I'm running it as a warm-up; i.e.: as a "good run" but not a "race". So I have a built-in excuse for not matching this year's time. Crazy...

And now, of course, I've done two marathons and had the same experience as with the half - second was faster than the first. So, my emotional response is that every marathon since should be a maximum of 3:35, even though that's not realistic. But, as with ATB, I have this sense of relief that my next marathon is Boston, and I'm going to Boston to run, not to race. To have the experience. No PBs expected or probably (for me) achievable.

In the end, this really doesn't surprise me. I've spent my whole life as a perfectionist with high expectations. But only in relationship to myself, not in competition with others. I want to do a 1:41 half, not to beat someone else, but to prove something to myself. I would love to run a 3:30 marathon because someone I know said they figured it would happen one day. Yes, it was neat to be third in my age group in Kingston this year. But my brain immediately downplays it, since my time was just under 1:44, not 1:41... Sigh...

This could easily segue into "running vs racing" but not tonight.

So, as I was saying last night, much to be happy about.

Looking back on both Ottawa and Scotiabank, for both races more went right than went wrong. I will always have a special place in my heart for Ottawa, because it was the first marathon, because it was the place/time where I learned that I really could do it. But Scotiabank went so much more right, or at least it feels like it went so much more right.

One of the differences is super easy to identify - no sudden seizing up at 32 km! It is almost impossible to convey how much of a relief that was. Not a huge surprise, or at least not a huge surprise in the moment, but I was definitely feeling rather mentally tense and somewhat afraid that it, or something just as unexpected and painful, was going to hit. So that's part of it.

And I was very pleased with my pacing. Not an even split, never mind a negative split, but consistent enough that I didn't burn it all up early on sub-5:00 kms and then have to do 7:00 kms at the end just to finish. The last few were very tough - no question - but at anywhere from 5:27 to 5:39 they really weren't bad. Of course, I don't really know if Ottawa would have been the same, had I not been in so much muscle pain, but the point is that it wasn't.

Hydration and carb strategies were different for the two races, and Scotiabank wins because it had no potty breaks. The anxiety factor was about the same for both, though, sigh... I shouldn't complain too hard. In the six months since ATB I have made huge improvements in being able to consume water without cramping, and have learned to consume carbs for the first time in all my years of running. But it's still an area of intense nervousness, not just before races but also before long runs. Nothing to do but keep track of what works, try new things as appropriate, and never forget that managing the whole digestive system for a race starts a few days out, not the day before.

Undoubtedly the extra months of training and the experience factor made a difference. Knowing that I had covered the distance once before produced a certain confidence that I could do it again, even though in some ways I was more nervous the second time around (see the prior post about expectations and caring.) And the flat course was a definite bonus.

But one of the main differences, and a high point, was the Scotiabank finish. It's not that the spectators were any more enthusiastic - the stretch to the finish line was packed for Ottawa too - or that the last part of the course was any better. It's a combination of not being in such pain, and being able to finish without dodging people and without immediately getting swallowed up in a crowd. As already documented, I was digging pretty deep to finish at a good pace, counting off 100 m stretches and holding on for the next one. But at the same time I had confidence that I could do it and had a tremendously excited feeling knowing that it was a PB and it was in the bag. And then it was exhilarating to cross, and to keep moving, and to be able to take a deep breath and really savour the feeling of having done it. Unlike Ottawa, where I was happy but also tense and trapped, this finish felt like a race finish should feel.

Having said all that, what went wrong?

The start was not great, did not feel right, and perhaps that's my own fault for not being sufficiently paranoid about getting there really early. In the end it worked out okay but it would have been a much better feeling to start the race running closer to the pace of the people in the immediate area.

Then there was the somewhat faster than planned pace through the first half. That may not have actually been a problem since it feels like I lost less time in my slower finish than I would have lost running slightly slower throughout. Can't claim to have done the math on that, though. So although I put overall pacing as something that went well, at the same time I could definitely use some improvement in running a more consistent pace over a long distance.

The mechanics of hydration and carbs are something of a concern, and I'm still trying to get my head around the best approach. To date, I simply have not learned to drink while running - not pinching the cup, not holding the bottle above my mouth, not drinking it normally, etc. If I want to drink, I have to walk. Part of me doesn't think that's a problem, since it's quite possible that the short walk breaks are helping my overall run. However, it also means that I will put off hydrating early in a race because it's just getting going and I don't want to interrupt the rhythm by stopping to drink.

Ditto on actually getting to gels, the sport beans, the salt pills, the tissues for my perpetually stuffed-up nose... I have reluctantly resigned myself to wearing my single bottle fuel belt during races, at least until the magic day that I can take larger amounts of water at the aid stations, grab whatever drink they're giving out (usually Gatorade, shudder) and possibly get their gels as well. But in the foreseeable future it's safer to travel with the stuff that's already been shown to work. However, as with the drinking, I have not yet managed to get to where these things are stowed without slowing to a walk. And consuming them while walking. Again, maybe that's not a problem and the walk breaks are a good strategy. But I am so envious of those people who go flitting by, ripping open a gel and downing it without breaking stride.

Over the next few months I'll look into other options for carrying stuff. I have thought about a camel pack (is that the term? DH loves his) but its pockets are less accessible than the pouch on my fuel belt, and at least the belt slides around easily. It doesn't help that I'm relatively small - both in height and around - so "storage space" is kind of limited. Not that I'm complaining - have no desire to put on any weight. But on the very long training runs this summer, when I had my big water bottle at the back and then two smaller ones in detachable holders on the front, it seemed awfully crowded and not very comfortable. One option might be a compression shirt and gels pinned to my shorts underneath. With luck it won't be much of an issue for ATB in March, because it will be cold enough to wear a jacket with pockets. Amazing how much stuff you can stash in pockets and how accessible they are.

Aches, pains, general fatigue. Are these avoidable or are they just part of racing? Back when I did my first few half marathons, I had this idea that if you were really tired after a race (didn't even call them races, still have to make an effort since in my mind they are runs), and had really had to push to finish, then you simply hadn't trained enough. I have since gathered that "leaving it all on the course" is in fact quite common and quite deliberate. So my own personal jury is out on this one. It ties right in to the whole issue of "runner or racer", a big topic all by itself.

At this very moment (while being much distracted by cats and little jobs that need to be done) I can't think of more negatives, or at least not ones that I had any control over!

I really should spend some time writing about personal bests. Maybe next entry.

Quick note here on post-race recovery: it is going very well. My quads are a little touchy on stairs but otherwise seem normal. My left ankle feels a little inflamed but that's also lessened over the last 24 hours. In any event, no running on the schedule until Tuesday. Maybe that's overkill but with two marathons in four months, not to mention some awfully long training runs, a whole week of no running is probably a good thing. And certainly not a bad one.

There are all kinds of useful things that I could be doing right now, but it's much more fun to blather on about yesterday's marathon while it's still fresh in my mind. The day or two after a big race is a good time to be a little self indulgent :)

So, a more detailed report than anyone besides myself is interested in:

As before, aside from the actual training, race prep actually got started during the several days before. No fried foods, no fish or seafood, minimal dairy, light meals in general, the usual drill. And no extra hydrating. There have been several times during my long runs this summer where I had to stop for potty breaks, not previously typical for me, and I'm pretty sure it's due to taking in too much fluid the day before. In a slight departure from tradition, I had my largest meal on Saturday around 2:00 (usually it's closer to 5:00) and then didn't eat much the rest of the day - last actual food was around 6:30.

F1 arrived at our place about 7:30 or 8:00 on Saturday evening and we had a beer and visited for a while, went off to our little beds around 10:30. Yes, I know, all the race advice guides say to avoid alcohol the day before. Well, long before I heard this we were in the habit of having that pre-race day beer with F1 and why stop now when it doesn't seem to be an issue?

Sunday morning I was up at 4:30 to have my energy bar breakfast (too early for some but I need that digestion time) and we left the house about 6:00. We parked under the downtown office building where I work, which is conveniently equipped with showers, dropped off our post race gear, and walked over to the starting area. It was a beautiful morning - the edge of daytime, a comfortable 14 C, calm (as compared to last year's wind gusts). Of course, the trouble with 14 C at 6:00 a.m. is that it's going to be a heck of a lot warmer at 9:00 a.m., and that was one of my worries. But it's one of those uncontrollable elements so I was mentally preparing myself to suck it up and deal, and thankful that at least we were going to have a good start.

The start area - what exactly was going on?!? We were all assigned to corrals and that shouldn't be much of an issue. And we arrived in plenty of time to get into said corrals. Had we only been able to locate and access them. But Wellington was blocked off at Simcoe, meaning we had to detour around Roy Thompson Hall, where we found signs directing us to the right corrals. Two gates, two signs. F1 and I said our good-byes to DH, who was in a different corral, and we went through our separate gates. Then came out into the same open area on the other side. People everywhere, including some non-runners carrying coffee who were squeezed into the starting line-up - what were they thinking? At this point I felt a little disadvantaged, since I wasn't wearing my glasses and was depending on the taller F1 to figure out where we should be. Which was further up - we think, based on the pace bunnies that we could see - and we tried to move up but didn't get far. It seemed like there were announcements being made, but we couldn't tell for sure, and then we did hear the starting bell and it was time to just make our way across the start line. Without a doubt, the slowest and most disorganized start I've ever experienced. Almost four minutes just to cross the timing mat.

Which in the end was perhaps not a bad thing. One of my concerns was starting too fast (the universal problem) and getting sucked in to keeping up with F1 for too much of the first half, thereby using up too much energy too early and not having enough left for the (predicted hot and sunny) second half. Well, it was just too hard for us to stay together in the tight crowd, and before long F1 had gone ahead and I was making my own way. It was still not full daylight, so even though I was hitting the lap button on my watch at the end of each km, it wasn't easy to see the times and so I had only an approximate feel for my pace. As it turned out, once the crowd thinned a bit, and it got brighter, I could see that my average was about 5:25/km for the first three km. Slower than the 5:15 average from Ottawa but I reminded myself that it was early days, that there was nothing riding on this race, no reason to panic and no need to try and recover that time.

All through the summer's training I had been trying out hydration/carb strategies, and about two weeks before the actual race more or less finalized my approach. Someone on the RR forum, who also suffers from rather mushy guts, had recommended GU2O. Normally I can't stand flavoured drinks, but tried the lemon-lime energy drink mix and found that my system tolerated it pretty well. And although gels are not my favorite, the strawberry-kiwi Carb Boom gels mostly went down okay. (Ruled out Power Bar gels after one try). My ideal was to make it through the race on water from the aid stations, energy drink from my bottle, and gels or sport beans if I needed them. Also salt tablets. Huh? Salt tablets? Since when?

Well, a couple of days before my last long run, while talking to a friend who does the Canadian Ironman every year, I mentioned muscle cramping. She recommended salt tablets, and at first I was really resistant to the idea. Salt?!?! Anyway, she had previously had all the same reservations, argued at length with her coach, but then tried them and became convinced. So I took a couple on my last long run, noticed no ill effects, and decided to carry some on this marathon. I know, I know - never try anything new. But, again, there was nothing riding on this race and so I was willing to experiment a little if it seemed appropriate.

And, in general, my strategy worked out quite well. Some pertinent details are included below, but the short story is that I started taking sips of my energy drink around 8 km, picked up water at the aid stations when it seemed like a good idea, and never felt either over- or under-hydrated. I haven't yet learned how to drink without slowing to a walk, but then that's not necessarily a problem.

Back to the run itself. As the crowd opened up I fell into a quicker pace, sometimes a little over 5:00, sometimes a little under. Looking at the data now at my leisure I calculate that km 4 to 20 were run at an average pace of 4:54. And they were really, really nice! The sky was cloudy, it was warm but not uncomfortable, I was enjoying the course and seeing the elite runners heading east, friends of DH and I showed up to cheer us on, heading east myself I got to wave to DH and a couple of other friends, plus someone from the RR forum. Not least, my stomach and GI tract were feeling okay, and the km were unrolling very smoothly. Yes, they were work -even a great run is work - but approaching the half/full split I still felt like there was lots of energy in storage. Not as much as at the start, but not down to a 1/4 tank, either. There was a moment as we came up to the split that I was sort of longing to turn and be done, but it passed.

In any event, intellectually I knew that pace was a little too fast to be sustainable, as was very evident to me at the 21.1 km timing belt where my watch time was just under 1:45. Too close to half marathon pace for my comfort and my race plan, even though it felt pretty darn good at the time. At that point I had been running for a couple of km with a guy doing his first marathon, and we were agreeing that the energy of the crowd and the flat course were sucking us into faster times than we'd planned.

It was also at about the 20 km point that the sun was hitting the course with pretty much its full force. The cloud cover had disappeared and I knew that we were heading into long stretches with very little shade. Based on the forecast, the actual temperature wasn't likely to get above 20 C, which isn't abnormally warm, and it really wasn't humid. However, let me say it again: I am a Weather Weinie. I am not a sun worshipper. I do most of my running in the early morning, and even training in the heat of the summer never really got accustomed to being out in late morning-midday-early afternoon sun. Last weekend the conditions were almost identical to yesterday, and I deliberately started my run close to 9:30 in the morning to approximate the last half of yesterday's race and get some more practice. But I didn't like it.

However, I had stopped feeling like a dork in my sunglasses. Explanation: I don't wear contacts, and my sunglasses are prescription. Carrying an extra pair of glasses on a long run would be (with my current gear) pretty inconvenient so I had to choose between regular glasses and sunglasses, and the sunglasses won. And was I ever thankful for that choice!

Okay, weather whine over. The ultimate point of all this verbiage is that I knew, intellectually, that I had to slow down. So I slowed for a drink, and started running again just that little bit more slowly. Maybe not quite slowly enough, since at 24 km my total time was just under 2:00, and that first feeling of fatigue was creeping into my muscles. So I had a salt tablet with more drink around 25 km and followed that up with a gel just before 26 km. Wasn't really keen on having the gel but was familiar enough with my body's signals to know that it was going to need a little more than what it was getting from the GU2O.

Anyway, at 26 km we were well into the Leslie St. Spit part of the course - not a bit of shade to be found, and it was kind of a tough slog. At least the course for that stretch was fully out-and-back, so you could watch the runners coming at you from the other direction, which was a useful distraction. I was kind of dreading the end of the Spit, because that meant turning east onto Lakeshore and running right into the sun, but you do what you gotta do, right?

Not surprisingly, with the increased sun I was taking more water and energy drink breaks than during the first half, and running a little slower, definitely feeling the distance. The average time for 27 to 36 km was 5:12, which included a few sub-5:00's and a couple of almost-6:00's. The latter were due to a salt tablet around 33 km, and some stretching between 34 and 35 km. I was very relieved to get past the 32 km mark without the seizing up issue that hit me in Ottawa, but was very mindful of how the muscles were feeling, and the stretching just seemed like a good thing to do.

By this point I started consuming more water than I had expected, but it was going down easy and felt good - no stomach cramps. Wasn't stopping at every aid station, but probably at every second or third - didn't really keep track. I would alternate water with energy drink, not with any real strategy, just trying to make sure that there was both enough water and enough carbs moving into the system. It didn't feel like I needed another gel, and I didn't want to have to take one unless it was really necessary. Fortunately, unlike Ottawa I never got that "exploding bladder" feeling, and although the GI tract sent out a few distress signals they were never strong enough to actually need a porta potty. That was a huge relief, but at the same time I knew from experience that it wouldn't take much to tip things in the other direction.

At the 36 km point my time was about 3:02, which was faster than the plan, and I was feeling tired. Not "completely out of energy" tired, but "man oh man that 6 kilometres sure seems like a long, long way" tired. It was tempting to walk for more than my water breaks but I mostly managed a slow trot for short periods instead. Probably no faster than rapid walking, but easier to transition into a faster pace as the slower pace restored some energy. By then the crowd was much thinner, and I was often running alone or almost alone rather than among a group, but I was kind of "leap frogging" with this one guy and that helped keep me going.

Had another salt tablet at around 37 km and then tried to just dig in for the last 5.2 km. It felt like pretty hard going but when I look at the actual time elapsed it's surprising - the average pace for that stretch is a little over 5:20, with the last few definitely being the hardest, at around 5:35. I guess sometimes the body takes over and the mind loses some of its connection. I remember being in the stretch between 38 and 39 km, and promising myself that when I hit the 39 km banner I could stop for an energy drink and walk a bit. Then I got a real boost not long before the 40 km point - two of the friends who had been there during the first half suddenly appeared, waving and yelling and cheering me on. I knew that one had an appointment mid-morning and had expected all of them to leave, so this was a complete surprise and it really fired me up - at least for a short distance!

The stretch from 40 to 42 km was probably the hardest of the entire race. Just past 40 km my watch said 3:24, and it suddenly occurred to me that at least for 2007, 3:38 meant a guaranteed entry to the NYC marathon. Well, that wasn't actually on my list for 2008, but if the rules stayed the same it would be an option, and it's always good to have options... Anyway, I remember saying out loud, "How badly do you want it?" and digging a bit deeper and keeping it going. Somewhere near the 41 km point I took a last energy drink break for a few steps, and a guy with a French accent ran by saying something like, "Keep it going, come on", and I managed to catch up to him and say "We're almost there", which was really true - I could almost taste that finish but knew it wasn't going to be easy...

The race ends with a very gentle climb - would barely notice it if walking! - up Bay St. and then a flat stretch on Wellington. Well, by that point the gentle climb felt like a hill, and I SO wanted to walk. But it was so close, and I so wanted to get there - the seconds seemed to be going in slow motion but I kept jogging until the turn onto Wellington. One of the volunteers said something like "only 500 yards to go", which sounded short but the finish line looked like it was so far away! However, there were lots of spectators, lots of noise, and banners saying "400 (300, 200, 100) metres to go", so I kept mentally saying that 100 metres was a short distance, and I just had to do 100 at a time, and then somehow the finish line was there and I was across, hardly believing it, tired, sore, but feeling oh so very good and so very triumphant / relieved/happy/anxious to find DH and F1...!

A much, much better finish than Ottawa. Lots of room to move around and no crowding. Someone handed me a space blanket, someone else had a bottle of water, someone else had the medal, then the chip return...all kind of happened in a daze. I did see the "leapfrog guy" come across a minute or so after me - he had been aiming for less than 3:40 chip time, and made it, so we were both happy and high-fived/shook hands. Shortly after that DH and F1 found me - it turned out they'd been at the 200 metre point but I was far too focussed and missed them entirely.

They'd both had good races and so we were all feeling great! Even took an official photo in which DH and F1 will look fabulous and I will look like something that crawled out from under a log, as usual :) There was food available but I really couldn't face it, they'd had anything they wanted much earlier, and so we wandered back to my office to shower and change and then go out for lunch. THAT was good - especially the large water and the large beer!

So, a very good day overall and there is much that I am happy with. But it's getting late so I'll write about that another time.