Almost two weeks since the Ottawa Half Marathon and I am finally writing about it. Maybe the 5 K in Kingston was a turning point because the half marathon was a very, very good run/race for me. Much better than I expected, much "less worse" than I feared. How much better? Well, 1:41:07 better! Only 11 seconds slower than my PB from six years ago, definitely a PB on a certified course, and in the top 2% of my age group. Wow. A tremendous boost.

Details:

The weather was forecast to be warm and sunny, and that's exactly what it was. About 16 C at the 9:00 a.m. start, and up to around 20 C by the last stages. Given that my last pre-race run was early morning, 5 C and windy, starting out too cold in a long-sleeved shirt, race day weather was a real shock to the system. And there is not a lot of shade on the Ottawa course (although there is at least some). With the sun beating down and the road reflecting up, it was warmer than I like for the entire race.

The start was pretty smooth, a little stop and go before we crossed the timing mat, but despite the packed corrals the group spread out pretty quickly, and I don't recall feeling crowded or boxed in for more than a few seconds here and there. Although the weather was quite different, it was a nostalgia trip to be running the same route as last year's marathon. Past the Parliament Buildings, around the corner down to the bridge, up the slight rise on the other side... What I had not remembered was that after the slight uphill from the start line and a little bit of flat in front of the Parliament Buildings, there was a lot of gradual downhill during the first part of the course, even before the turn to the bridge, and that was a nice way to start.

As for pacing - kind of like Kingston, I had just decided to "run how it felt", try to have no expectations beyond a "solid run". With "solid run" pretty much undefined, meaning "I'll know it's a solid run if it feels like a solid run". Not exactly scientific or particularly motivational, but then again it didn't have to work for anyone but me.

I wasn't wearing the Garmin (DH had it), just my running watch so I could track the pace for each km, and at the beginning things got a little mixed up. Firstly, I didn't realise that the marathon and half marathon had different signs, didn't remember that from last year, and just hit the lap button when we passed the first km sign. Glanced at the time, which was 4:16, and knew that wasn't possible based on how I was feeling. Then a little later saw the "1 km - half marathon" sign and at that point the time was 5:02, much more reasonable. Unfortunately I hit a few buttons wrong over the next couple of km, but at the end of 3 km the total time was 14:34.

So, pretty good, a sub 5:00 min/km pace, and despite the heat I was feeling pretty solid. Of course, there had been all that long gradual downhill! I think it was about that point that I noticed a woman in front of me, older than me but running very strongly, and although I'm not very competitive it did occur to me that if I wanted to be running well when I reached that age, I needed to be running well at this age! So I didn't actually try to catch up or pass her, but it was a motivation to keep things going.

My memory of the hills in Gatineau was pretty good, and again there was some downhill there that I'd forgotten. And somewhere in Gatineau - not clear on the distance - I caught up to the other woman and passed her. Not a bad thing :)

I wasn't carrying any GU2O, only salt tablets and a "just in case" gel, and my first water stop was at the station just past the 8 km point, where I also took a salt tablet. Of course I had to slow down for that, and the woman I'd passed went zooming by! Again, I didn't try to catch up, but did keep running a pretty good pace myself, and I think passed her on the bridge back to Ottawa.

At the 9 km mat my time was 42:05, and that kind of surprised me. At that point I was definitely feeling the heat, a little lower on energy, and not looking forward to the gradual but long climb up Sussex. I remembered walking part of it during the marathon, since it was gel time and if you have to walk, why not do it on a hill, but there was no such excuse this time. Plus, there was a small chance that my FIL and/or MIL could have been there to see me go by, and I didn't want to be walking if they were! So I did slow down, but got up the hill in a kind of plodding run, and then the course ran along the canal with lots of gradual downhill and flat stretches.

So my pace picked up again, back to sub-5:00/kms, and again it was rather nostalgic to be running the same course. Not that I had much time for nostalgic thoughts - too busy trying to rise above the heat and keep going. Somewhere around the 14 km point I stopped for water and another salt tablet, plus mixed a little Gatorade in the water for a little energy jolt, so it was an extended water break, and wouldn't you know it the same woman went zooming by again! I had another water break near the end of that side of the canal, also had a little Gatorade there, and that wasn't so smart. No big digestive issues but my entire GI tract sent out an unhappy message so I decided no more Gatorade if even that little bit was going to be trouble.

At some point before crossing the canal I passed the woman and I don't recall seeing her after that, which doesn't mean that I didn't but there is no picture in my mind.

On the way down the canal there was some headwind, and I kind of had mixed feelings about it. The cooling air movement was definitely welcome. However, it was strong enough that I needed to fight it a bit, and that wasn't so great; I remember saying to the guy beside me as a gust hit, "When do we get a tailwind?!" At this point it was really feeling like a tough race, mostly due to the heat, partly because I was "running it hard". Periodically I would slow down a little, thinking the pace was not sustainable, but then would end up speeding up again. And that was okay. Somewhere past 16 km is the point where the route crosses the canal. Just a little hill, nothing special, but it felt bigger. I remember slowing, and cursing the sun and lack of shade, and thinking that trail running at a slower pace out in the forest might be a nicer way to run in the summer!

And then we were running along the other side of the canal, passed the 17 km marker, and I was telling myself that it was "only" 4 more km, that this was much easier than a marathon, and so on. The 17 km to 18 km stretch felt pretty long (although according to my watch it was 4:37, so really not long at all), which is the 38 km to 39 km point of the marathon, which I remember as agonizingly long last year. Is there something special about that stretch of asphat?!? I think it was shortly before the 18 km point that a guy I'd chatted with in the start corral went flying past me and shouted out, "Looking good!" and of course that provided a temporary energy boost.

In the interest of full disclosure I need to note that since the second Gatorade my mushy guts had periodically been sending distress signals. Not Boston-level, but enough that there were a couple of times where I slowed down to bring things back to normal. This was not exactly making me happy, and I'm blaming the Gatorade. For some reason I got away with it at ATB, and through the last stretch of Boston, but it clearly does not agree with me.

Anyway, at the 18 km point my time was 1:26:10 and with that short a stretch to go, a new PB (or my old one) was in sight. That was not the way I'd expected the day to turn out, and in the end it didn't, not quite. The last water station was just past 18 km, and I thought about skipping it, but really needed some water. Then, as I tried to pick up the pace after the quick water break, my GI tract sent out a big "NO!" and I had to take it easy for a bit. By this point I was definitely tired, but wanted to keep it going for a strong finish, and although the last stretch was tough and I didn't have much extra "kick" until past the "750 m to go" point, I am pretty happy with my times through there: 18 - 19: 5:02.67 (includes water break), 19 - 20: 4:45.46, 20 - 21.1: 5:08.41.

And so at the finish line my watch was 1:41.06, vs the official time of 1:41.07, and I was one very happy camper! After all the dread, the nerves, the self-doubt, this turned out to be my best distance race this year. It was, overall, a tough one, no doubt because it was at a pace that pushed me, but OTOH it clearly wasn't impossible. Not to mention that it was done in heat and sun, which I know slowed me down at times. Not just in a general sense, but because there were times I ran the outside of a curve, just to get the little bit of shade available there. Or slowed up a bit through shade or under bridges, for the same reason. So at the risk of being just too, too full of myself (because after all a 1:41 half isn't exactly champion territory), I was really thrilled with my body's ability to get that kind of time. And of course immediately the wheels were spinning, with thoughts like, "If I can do that in these conditions, could I possibly get a new PB on a flat course in the early morning?"

Which, of course, would be Scotiabank. Except that I've registered for the marathon there. Details of that some other time.

Back to Ottawa... Unlike last year, the finishing chutes were moving quickly, the recovery area wasn't crowded, and so I was able to keep moving around and prevent any cramping tendencies my legs might have had. I was watching for someone from the RR forum who I had missed at the start but knew should be finishing around the same time; had just about given up, figuring she'd been ahead of me, when I spotted her bib number and that was pretty neat. Loved meeting her and her husband. Just before that, I bumped into my original ART person, who had just finished the half, and that was nice as well.

I was expecting DH to be about a half hour behind me and started to worry when he didn't appear in our pre-arranged meeting place, thinking that the heat had really done him in or something. As it turned out, he was caught in the chutes/recovery area. He also had a very good race - just a minute slower than Kingston - so was pretty pleased with himself. Especially because he had also found it too hot and had gone through his own battles to keep going.

As before, we went to the local Y to get showered and changed, and this time I did 10 minutes on the stationary bike first. What a difference that made. My legs still reminded me for the next couple of days that I had pushed them, but it was twinges, not real stiffness.

So it was a great day for both of us, which is SO nice when it happens! If only every race could be this way! Still, it was a tremendous confidence boost for me and I hope this can carry over into Scotiabank and New York. But more about that some other time.

The Ottawa Half Marathon. It's this weekend. DH and I are both signed up for it. He's hoping for another strong performance, like ATB (improved his time by about 15 minutes this year, forgot to say that in my other post) and Kingston. Me? I'm just hoping for a solid run. Notice I said "run", not "race".

At this point, my confidence is at a fairly low ebb, and I don't really know what to expect of myself. After 2007 being a year of successes (unexpectedly wonderful time at ATB! personal course record and third place age group at Kingston Half! BQ at Ottawa! five minute PB and BQ at Scotiabank!), 2008 has been the year of "could have gone better". ATB - hamstring cramps :( Boston - digestive problems and major seizing up :( Kingston was the bright light in there, but it was only 5 km.

As recently as March or even April I would have said that my half marathon time was somewhere around 1:45. Now? I just don't know. At the risk of throwing myself a pity party, right at the moment I am not feeling like a particularly good runner. Boston really did a number on my confidence. Yes, the primary problem was my guts - no doubt about that. Part of me still worries about using that as a copout and an excuse, but I have to find a way to turn that voice off. What happened was not avoidable. I have done lots of long runs, I have done two marathons, I have fought through mushy guts many times. This was different. I hated stopping, tried to avoid it, managed for a while (twice, even), but in the end the body had its demands and there was no arguing. And that took its toll on the rest of me.

A marathon is such a big deal - it's a long distance and it takes (for me) disciplined training. And unfortunately, although I'm thrilled to have done Boston and although objectively it was a pretty good marathon time for my age group, what I don't really know, for certain, is whether I was ready, whether I had trained enough. Objectively, I think so. Five weeks before I did a 38 km long run and could have gone longer. My training program was almost identical to the one I used for Scotiabank, and in some ways it was tougher - four runs a week right from the start, plus regular speedwork and hills. Hips and hamstrings felt great. By the time things started to happen, around Mile 14, yes, I was feeling the effort. But I was also feeling quite good overall, running pretty steady. Heat was a factor but not a dealbreaker. Then after the first stop I just couldn't get fully back into the rhythm, couldn't find a pace and keep myself steady. Then, of course, things skidded downhill into the second stop. So the real question in my mind, which will be forever unanswered: had I not had to stop, what would have happened? Would my quads have seized up like that? It happens. Or would I have had the nice 3:45 or so run that was my A goal?

So between the electrolyte cramps at ATB and the issues at Boston, I just don't have a great sense of what my actual running fitness is right now. Since returning from Boston my training runs have been okay. Maybe. While running I find myself feeling quite anxious about running, and how it's going, and I'm second guessing everything. At the 16 km point and feeling a little tired? Clearly I am lousy runner. Hamstrings are a little tight? Clearly my fitness has gone way downhill or I wouldn't be feeling anything right now. Breathing a little too hard while trying to maintain this pace? Obviously I've completely lost it.

This is not a happy place to be. Duh.

As a result, rather than being sort of excited about the Ottawa Half, and looking forward to it, I'm tense. Which is silly. This isn't an important event to me - if DH weren't doing the Half I wouldn't be doing anything. We didn't even register until after Kingston, at the point DH knew that he wasn't injured. This week is a mini-taper, but I really can't claim to have done special training, just kept up some base mileage after taking the first post-Boston week very easy. So there is nothing riding on this and I should be able to just go out and enjoy it. I like the half marathon distance, for many reasons. Instead I'm tense about what my body might do, how it might give out on me, the many things that could go wrong, and so on.

Given half a reason, I'd just drop out, rather than put myself through what is looming in my own personal hell as an all-too-important test.

But - and clearly this shows how conflicted my brain is right now - there is also a part of me that really wishes I was running the marathon. It was my first marathon, I did well (despite the hellish last 10 km), it would be nice to do it again. Even though that would be an even bigger test than a half. Nuts.

For the record, in an attempt to shore up my confidence: last weekend I ran 24 km, at "whatever feels good" pace and hit the 21.1 km mark around 1:44:12 (or so sayeth the Garmin). Of course, I did have a couple of stops in there for traffic lights, and to blow my nose, and to talk to DH for a couple of minutes when we met up en route. So what would my real running time have been without those breaks? Objectively, I should feel pretty good about that time. Instead, I think it doesn't count for much because I didn't time the breaks.

It's too late at night to keep going on this. But I'll post it anyway, if for no other reason than to keep myself honest about where I'm at this very minute.

Four weeks ago yesterday was Boston, which means that four weeks ago today DH and I were on our way home. It was a tough ride as my legs were very stiff and getting in and out of the car was...challenging. My leg muscles were frozen pretty badly after screeching to a halt at the end of the Ottawa Marathon last year, but I think after Boston they were the worst ever. Still, I'm amazed at how quickly they were back to normal - took a few days but I was able to do the Kingston 5 K on the Sunday after.

And therein lies a tale, of sorts. DH and F1 were signed up to do the Half Marathon, which I was missing for the first time since 2001. Not wanting to let our traditional annual event go by and do nothing, I had signed up for the 5 K, figuring that I should be able to at least jog it by then. Right up until race day I could have changed to the Half, and there was a part of me that wanted to, but sanity prevailed.

It was a beautiful day - sunny, almost a little too warm but not for 5 K - and I was feeling good. Not particularly stiff or sore, pretty relaxed, no expectations. So I decided that rather than jog the distance, I would run it hard and see how it went. F1 and I lined up together, his pace was not easy for me but I stuck with him for the first km, then he turned on the jets and was gone. No way I could match that, and I didn't want to. But I did keep on at the pace he'd set, or probably a little slower, and it was an interesting experience. I did want to slow down and take it easy, but this little voice inside was saying things like "It's only 5 km, not the half marathon, you can run hard for 5 km", and in the end I did, finishing in 22:59. Is that a superb time for 5 km? No, but it's pretty darn good. Is it faster than I'd expected? Yes. Was it good enough for third place in my age group? Yes!

The first woman finisher overall was also in my age group, with a smoking 18:15 (now that's a superb time!), and since you can only get one medal, that moved me up to the second place award. A big surprise, all of it, and a great way to experience my first 5 K race. Since I have Boston on the agenda for 2009, Kingston next year may be my second 5 K race. It was a fun experience, but I don't envision myself signing up for any similar short distances without a bunch of surrounding circumstances (like DH again running a different distance in the same event). Too much effort and travel time as compared to the time actually spent running.

It was a good day all round in Kingston. F1 had his best time - around 1:33 - in several years, and DH had his all time personal best, by about seven minutes, with 2:11. What an accomplishment! Especially considering that his previous PB was at Scotiabank, which is almost flat, and Kingston is a tougher course with, IIRC, four significant hills. So it was a pretty happy group having the traditional lunch at the Brew Pub after. Only problem was that I was driving (DH being pretty stiff after pushing that hard) so couldn't actually have a beer, just a few tastes of DH's.

Obviously there is no direct comparison between the Kingston 5 K and the Boston Marathon, but at the same time Kingston was a confidence booster. I never did post about ATB, but the short(ish) story is:

Was feeling good, weather was nice (sunny, not too hot or cold, a little windy but not bad), and went out faster than planned. I was running alone since F1 had a much better feel for the distance and took off, finishing with a final time around 2:18. My average pace was a little less than 5:00/km (about 48:30 at 10 km, 1:14 at 15 km) and I was making an effort to slow down but with limited success. Then at about 16 km my hamstrings and glutes started to tighten up. Uh oh. Tried water and a gel but what I really needed was a salt tablet or two. Unfortunately, I hadn't brought any along, and the gel by itself wasn't enough. By the 20 km point my pace was slowing down, and of course that's about the point the hills start. 20 - 25 km necessitated some walk and stretch breaks, and I finally grabbed some Gatorade from an aid station. Should have done that sooner, and should have had more, because it did provide an electrolyte boost. Should have, would have, could have... The real blessing of this race was that P. met me at the bottom of the big hill (she ran the 5 K earlier) and ran with me almost to the finish. Which was a big help to keep going. It was a long slow climb up that hill, but at least I didn't walk. And some more Gatorade had me doing better, if not great, for a final time of 2:32 and change. Slower than last year, but faster than my plan, and faster than expected once the hamstrings acted up. The cramps did disappear very quickly with food and water, so it was an electrolyte thing. I have now become quite paranoid, take a salt tablet before each run, and usually one or more along the way, depending on the distance and whether I feel that creeping cramping sensation.

What's next? The Ottawa Half Marathon. A subject for a different post.

Given that I have yet to post an Around the Bay race report, maybe I shouldn’t be writing about Boston, but want to get it down while it’s still quite fresh in my mind. I could write pages about the expo, about the atmosphere in the city, about the organization, etc., but then I’ll never get to the race itself. Or at least not anytime soon.

Short story: I am thrilled to have done Boston, and at the same time disappointed that it wasn’t the Boston I would have wished for. But as with most things, there is more good than bad and ultimately the ability to say, “Yes, I did run the Boston marathon” far outweighs the disappointment.

On to the race...

The weather forecast changed quite a bit in the several days previous, but when I checked it around 5:00 a.m. on Monday it was for 13 or 14 C, clouds giving way to sun, not too much wind. Pretty nice conditions, a little warm but the clouds would counter some of that. So I stuck with my planned outfit of shorts and short-sleeved shirt, but for the walk to the buses and the wait in Hopkinton had tights, a jacket, a fleece and gloves on as well. The fleece was an old one that I planned to throw away while running if I was still wearing it when the race started.

So DH and I walked over to the buses – about a mile – and met up with my buddy P and her husband. As always, I was pretty nervous and kind of dreading the start of the race, and she had similar feelings, but intellectually I knew the nerves would go once we were actually running. The thing that was giving me some concern was my stomach (and by extension, the rest of my digestive system). Despite following the usual pre-race plan for several days – no fried foods, no fish or seafood, limited dairy, etc. – something just did not feel “right”. DH and I were supposed to go to the pasta dinner Sunday night, which we have never done before, but of course this was Boston and I wanted to see it all. And thought I could risk eating something very plain. However, when we finished the course tour around 3:30, my stomach hurt and I really didn’t want to go. In fact, I really didn’t feel like eating much of anything, but with the “fuel up” mantra in mind did have a smallish vegetarian flatbread sandwich and a few forkfuls of the vegetable fried rice that DH brought back to the hotel room a couple of hours later. Nothing I’m not used to, nothing that’s been an issue before.

Monday morning I was kind of hungry and ate my usual Vector Energy Bar and hot water pre-race breakfast. Still just didn’t feel quite myself in the stomach/gastric department, though. Not sick, not remotely ill. Just not quite right. As we were leaving, I recall saying to DH, “My stomach hurts”, which it did, but not in a debilitating way. More like background noise, which I hoped was nerves and would go away.

Anyway, after waiting quite a while, P and I finally kissed our respective husbands good-bye, boarded a bus, and were on our way to Hopkinton. An uneventful ride – although now I know what other people have meant when they say it seems so long! – with a big delay at the end trying to get into the school grounds so that we could all get off. In the end, there wasn’t much time to be nervous. We waited in line for what seemed like forever to get into a porta-potty, ended up changing lines twice until we found one that was moving, and at first were still pretty chilly. One of the people supervising the bus loading had said it would be overcast and cool all day, and while part of me was delighted, the rest was lamenting that I hadn’t worn a long-sleeved shirt. Then all of a sudden it started to warm up, and within 10 or 15 minutes the sky was bright blue and it was warm. Off came the tights, the jacket, the fleece, the gloves, and I was glad to have made the right clothing choices after all. On went the sunscreen, but not completely as I did end up with a couple of sunburned blotches on my ankles and the backs of my arms. No big deal.

After the porta-potty visit (which did leave me feeling better), we just had time to drop our bags in the buses and head for the start line, and in the end we had to sprint a little to get into the right corral – the gates were closed and we had to squeeze through the bars. So absolutely no time to get wound up waiting to start – I’m not sure we had five seconds between getting into place and the gun going off.

P and I had agreed to try and stay together, at least in the general vicinity, but not to stay behind if one of us had issues and had to slow down. She was recovering from an injury and not sure if her leg would hold out, I was just nervous in general.

As for the actual marathon, the first half was great. P and I stayed together and were running well. A little too fast through the first part – not that unusual – but by the halfway point we were doing a pace that felt pretty good, about 1:49 total time so about a 3:40 if we held onto it. I was wearing DH’s CamelBak, something I’d tried out on my last couple of runs, and it was working well. I hadn’t wanted to wear a fuel belt but did want to have my GU2O, and this was the perfect compromise.

We had a gel around the 7 mile mark, and a couple of water breaks, a little Gatorade. I was taking in the GU2O on a regular basis, and also having salt tablets (first one about 8 km) to prevent cramping from low electrolytes. By the halfway mark the sun was getting to me a little. After months of winter the 12 C temperature felt warmer than it actually was, and the course doesn’t have a lot of shade, but at least we were running away from the sun. I thought it might be slowing me down a little, but didn’t want to go “too fast” anyway, and it wasn’t like running in mega-heat and humidity. Just a little uncomfortable.

Then a little before the 14 mile mark my race started to go south. We were running along, I think up a little bit of a hill, and then suddenly I felt my bowels send a major signal. Uh oh… It is rare that I get through any race without some “discomfort”, shall we say, but previously it’s started much more gently and I’ve been able to get through by changing pace a little, some mental effort, and so on. Which was what I tried this time, of course, but quickly realized that without a dreaded porta-potty stop, things just weren’t going to get better. P was a sweetie and waited for me, took that opportunity to gel, and after a couple of minutes we were off again. I remember saying, “I feel one thousand percent better”, and that was true. But not for long.

Although it hadn’t been a long break, it was a complete break, and I was having trouble finding my pace and then staying on it. As well, my legs suddenly felt more tired than they had before, and in retrospect I realise that during the break they had started to tighten up. Not good, but we were more than halfway along and around the 25 km point there is a nice long downhill into Newton Lower Falls, and I hoped that by running that easy and loose, I would be able to almost feel like I was starting a new run, get my body back in tune, and so on.

Not quite. It did help but as we were approaching the first hill I could feel “digestive issues” starting again and had to slow down, again, in hopes of basically cutting it off early and being able to just keep running. One porta-potty stop had been bad enough – two was definitely not part of the plan.

It was about that point that I lost P, who was continuing to have a great race. Mine was unfortunately becoming not so great. Looking back, it’s kind of hazy, but I was falling into a pattern of: run, slow down to calm GI tract, run, slow down, run, slow down… At the same time, I was continuing to hydrate because the sun was hot and I really didn’t want to get dehydrated. By this point I was rationing the GU2O a little, not being sure how much was left, and taking a bit of Gatorade at some of the stops.

Around the 17 mile mark I got a real lift because DH was there with the “Go Jogger Barbie Go” sign that he’d made the night before, he grabbed some water and ran about 10 steps with me, and that was really nice. I remember saying to him, “I feel like I have nothing left”, but at the same time I was still running and still hoping to solve my issues and get onto a pace that I could hold, so although conditions weren’t ideal they certainly weren’t horrendous.

However, the digestive stuff just wasn’t getting any better. I can’t remember whether it was the second or third hill where I was forced to admit that a second porta-potty stop was unavoidable, but I do recall walking for a couple of 2 and 3 minute stretches – a long time during a race – because I just had to in order to avoid a very embarrassing accident. Then I would start to run again, and get a little ways before having to slow down again, and it just felt awful to be having this happen during this race, of all races. It didn’t help that a couple of times I passed porta-potties that were occupied – bad enough having to stop but I wasn’t going to stop and wait, as well, so kept going. At one point someone was handing out orange wedges, and they looked so good – something “real” instead of all the artificial drinks, and I took one. Big mistake – one bite and my insides just turned over. Fortunately a short ways on, somewhere near the beginning of Heartbreak Hill, there was an empty porta-potty and it became my new home for longer than I would have liked. Several minutes, anyway – I don’t know how long but I do know there was no alternative.

Okay – so there I was giving myself a pep talk – “only about 8 or 9 km to go, only one more big hill, 8 or 9 km isn’t a terrible distance, this is a rotten delay but all you have to do is finish, this is the FREAKIN’ BOSTON MARATHON so how can you let this get you down” – and of course I really did feel better after my body had purged itself of whatever was giving it such problems. So I step back outside, take a salt tablet, rejoin the crowd, and realise that during my unplanned break my quads had frozen into place. Right. Run a course with a lot of downhill sections and then come to a halt. Why am I so surprised? But why did this have to happen today?!?!?

After that, the next few miles were pretty darn tough, to put it mildly. I remember at one point being so frustrated, I think it was on the last part of Heartbreak Hill. My breathing wasn’t hard, my heart rate didn’t seem to be elevated, but the legs just wouldn’t work. The muscles were just so tight, couldn’t seem to stretch them out, couldn’t get them to loosen up – it was no.fun.at.all. Funny how after enough experience you learn what the different kinds of leg discomfort/pain mean. There’s the “I’m really tired but still responding” sensation, where slowing up a bit and some mental effort gets you past it. There’s the “I need electrolytes” cramping, which takes a while to work out but can be done. And then there’s the “I thought you were finished running so I’ve checked out for the day” sensation that I was having.

At the same time, I was still mobile, no intention of quitting. My A Goal had been a nicely-paced 3:45 or 3:50 – that was gone. My B Goal was to BQ at Boston – that was in real danger of going but still possible. My C Goal was to finish – and that was most definitely still in play, even if I had to walk the rest of the way.

But I didn’t have to walk the rest of the way. Boston is a tricky course – there are few truly flat stretches – but the beauty is that there are lots of downhill stretches over the last few miles once you’re past Heartbreak Hill. And my strategy became to run as fast as possible on the downhill sections – about a 5 min/km pace according to the Garmin – and then try to keep it up on the flat stretches and uphills, but take walk and water breaks as necessary. Not the ideal, but I was still in the race. Playing all kinds of mental games to keep going and of course making sure that for the timing mats and the cameras I was running. I remember promising myself to run from a certain point to the 40 km timing mat – made it almost the whole way, had just one short walk break – and by that point the end was in sight. And with all the downhills my legs even felt like they were starting to relax a bit.

One unforeseen benefit of all this – trying to look on the bright side – was that I probably saw more of the course and took in more of the surroundings than would have been the case if I was running with my usual tunnel vision. And this would be a good point to mention the fantastically supportive crowds. Sometimes they really did keep me going, but they weren’t always enough to keep my tight legs from getting the break they were demanding. At least my stomach and GI tract were mostly okay, although periodically I still had to slow down as another cramp would go ripping through and threaten to sideline me once again. I almost wish it had been nausea instead – hate the thought of puking in public but it’s quicker and you don’t absolutely need to find privacy for it…

Anyway, so I see the famous Citgo sign from a long way out, remember what everyone has said about not concentrating on it because it doesn’t seem to get closer, keep making my way along the long stretch of low-rise apartment buildings soaking in energy from the crowd, and then finally we’re past the sign and there’s just one mile to go. It’s not going to be easy but it’s less than 2 km and I’m going to do it. The course is as busy as it’s been from the very start – a sea of people ahead, around and behind – but I’m in a pace I think I can hold (please, let me be able to hold it for just one more mile) and starting to get a little excited because that finish line will soon be a reality.

And then the woman in front of me suddenly slows down. It was like a car accident, or dropping something. Time slows and you see something bad happening but you can’t stop it. I tried to move to the side and get away but couldn’t do it fast enough, or there was someone beside me, or I’m not sure what. But I can’t get away from her and can’t put on my own brakes fast enough, and so I clip her on the side of her body and we both go down. Oh my God – this has never happened before. Is she okay? Am I okay? Immediately I’m getting up, apologizing, asking if she’s okay, another woman stops to see if we’re okay, we obviously haven’t broken anything because we both take off running again, but about 30 seconds later it registers that my right knee really hurts and gosh darn if that doesn’t make sense, because there are a couple of lovely bleeding scrapes on it.

Okay – I admit it. For a fleeting instant I just wanted to throw in the towel and give up on the whole thing. No, I didn’t actually stop and no, I wasn’t serious. Because of course my brain immediately screamed, “You’re less than a mile from the finish line of the Boston marathon and you can even contemplate this?!?!? Are you out of your mind?!?!?” Guess not, because I kept going. There was one point on the little rise out of the tunnel where I walked just a few steps, but I’m pretty sure that by that point the crowd was carrying me the last km or so and from somewhere I found that “finishing line last bit of energy”. There is a small rise – it felt like a real hill – and then that final turn onto the long, flat stretch of Boylston with the finishing line as the focus of every bit of energy you have left. I cannot begin to describe the feeling but I will never forget powering myself down those last few hundred meters and finally hearing that blessed “beep beep” as I crossed the timing mat, and somehow it was over and I had actually run the Boston marathon. Final time was 4:01 and change. Not my finest race – not by a mile, heck, not by several miles – but it was done.

Of course, after that final effort my muscles were cramping like mad, but Boston is great for keeping you moving and I just progressed from point to point – got some water, got the blanket, and – best of all – gave up the timing chip for the medal. Normally medals aren’t important to me – if races only had medals for the people who place that would be fine – but the Boston medal is a whole different story. I even made a point of getting a post-race picture with it. Funny – as I write this now I’m actually feeling more emotional than at the time. I think when it was all happening I was so dazed by the whole experience, and so focused on getting my stuff and finding DH and finding P that there was no energy to spare for being emotional.

And all of that did happen, in due course. Because of the Jogger Barbie sign it was easy to find DH in the family meeting area, he was wonderfully supportive, we picked our way back through the crowds to the hotel where P and her husband were waiting. P had a wonderful race, said for once “everything went right”, and she was just glowing. To keep it short, my friend D (who finished a little behind me) and her husband also made it back to the hotel, we all got showered and changed and went out to celebrate, and we’ll all be back. Thank heavens I already qualified for 2009 at Scotiabank!

Not surprisingly, I have done so much dissection and processing since the race. Adding 21 minutes to your initial qualifying time, and 26 minutes to your best qualifying time, will do that to you. Yes, I am human, and yes, I am disappointed. At the same time, I’m not devastated. I ran Boston. The big one. The one that so many people dream of and never get a chance to do. No excuse for a pity party.

My splits for the last half are interesting (at least to me). Half to 25 km: 23:43 (included first porta-potty break). 25 km – 30 km: 31:25. 30 km – 35 km: 36:03 (included second porta-potty break). 35 km – 40 km: 29:19. 40 km – 42 km: 12:40 (included fall). Obviously much slower than the first half, but definite improvment from that low point in the middle where it was all going off the rails. Bottom line: I finished the race, running most of the way, in a time that lots of people would be thrilled to have. At 47, I am 70% into my age group (40-49) but finished at around 56% of my age group. On a bad day. I have to take some comfort from that.

Fortunately, over and over I kept saying that I was trying to go into Boston without expectations. I didn’t know what to expect, and there was nothing riding on this race (i.e.: a BQ). And I am SO glad that was the case, that I didn’t go out there hoping and trying for a PB, because that would have made everything that happened much harder to deal with. And although in many ways all the digestive issues were my worst race day fears come home to roost, better to be taken out by something uncontrollable like that then by just pure bad running and lack of preparation. Was I trained for the race? I think so. But I can’t be sure. Once my GI tract took over, it felt like everything was falling apart, because I just couldn’t seem to settle things down long enough to get into any kind of steady running zone. Would I have cramped up like that without the stops? Again, I don’t know. Typically I don’t stop like that during a long run and especially not during a race. Walk breaks, sure. Pauses for stop lights and such? You bet. But nowhere near as prolonged, and of course even if I do tend to have trouble running LSDs at LSD pace, long runs are still not as intense as an actual race.

Of course, I’d still like to know exactly what went wrong. I don’t think it was just nerves, because it took until Wednesday afternoon before my stomach really started to feel normal and before my appetite truly returned. Again, I wasn’t sick, but neither was I normal. Typically, after a long run or a race my body needs a little time to settle down and be hungry, but then I am hungry and eat well. Monday night, I couldn’t quite finish my dinner and had no craving for dessert or for snacks later on. Tuesday morning, no desire for breakfast and my stomach actually turned over a little just thinking about it, barely ate until lunch. Was hungry for dinner, but again not much. None of that is like me. My best guess is that my almost-vegetarian self (the odd serving of fish or seafood requires the “almost”) somehow consumed something that contained meat. Or was cooked in concentrated meat stock. Maybe something I ate was a bit spoiled. No way to know. But I have learned a big, big lesson: next time we travel out of town several days before a race, I am bringing lots more of my own food, or buying it from a grocery store once we arrive. And if I am lucky, the pre-race diet will work well, as it has before, and I will finish the race without seeing the inside of a porta-potty.

Wow – I knew this was going to be long but didn’t expect this long. No way I’ll be able to forget my first Boston now that it's recorded in such excruciating detail…!

And now it's just over four weeks until Boston. Four weeks tomorrow is The Day. Which means that four weeks from now I'll be experiencing some mixture of anticipation, anxiety, dread and impatience. The usual stuff, magnified. I hope that once it starts I can relax and little and enjoy it. There is a woman at my gym who will be running Boston for the fourth time, and she uses the word "fun". That's where I'd like to be.

So at this point there's just one more week of training and then three weeks of tapering. Although the tapering part is relative. The weekend runs aren't as long but the weekdays don't change much. Still either a hills or speedwork day, an "easy" day, and a race pace day. There is always that little voice inside that doesn't want to taper, that doesn't believe I'll be able to run if I taper. It's hard to ignore but I follow the schedule and try to trust what's worked before.

Having said that, my training finishes off with the 30 km Around the Bay Road Race next weekend. It's beautifully timed re: Boston, at three weeks and one day before. 30 km is a nice distance to end training with. I am really hoping hard for a good run, although at the moment less than charmed by the weather forecast for that day: 0 C and light snow. Although if the snow is really light and the wind is not bad, that could actually be okay. Otherwise? Well, I did run in the snow this winter and did not enjoy it much. Granted, I was running on bumpy ice under snow at the same time and that was the toughest part.

Assuming the conditions are reasonable and I'm running well, conventional wisdom says to treat it like an LSD. Given that I've always had trouble sticking to LSD pace, combined with the crowd adrenaline and my mini-taper (trading Friday's race pace run for easy cross-training next week), that will be extremely difficult. However, if I'm in anything near the same shape as before Scotiabank (who can tell, for sure?) I can probably run it reasonably "hard" and still recover in time for Boston. My last pre-Scotiabank long run, three weeks before, was 38 km in about 3:25. And I recovered fine. So presumably I could recover from a faster 30 km.

Because of the timing of ATB, I did this training cycle's 38 km last weekend, and was fairly pleased with it. Total running time was about 3:32, not counting stops for bathroom breaks, shoe adjustments, traffic lights... So that's just about the right LSD pace. It's a little misleading, since some km were faster, and some (like a very slow one down in the valley that was enough to convince me the paths were not a good idea, or the ones where I was picking around ice) were slower. At the end I was very tired, and not at all sorry to stop. Could I have done 4 km more? I think so. Maybe not very fast, maybe with more walk breaks, but I think so. Something I have found, in running various planned distances, is that my body seems to often provide only the energy I need for that particular distance. Particularly if it's a long one. There have been lots of short runs, even some 24 km runs, where I could have gone longer with relatively little effort, but it seems that once I hit around 30 km and beyond, the body is primed for that distance and only reluctantly keeps pushing past it.

So naturally I hope this extends to Marathon Day and my body is primed for that 42.2 km as opposed to being ready to give up at the 30 km mark. Note to self: it's happened twice before, no reason it can't happen again.

A couple of weeks ago I did, rather regretfully, blow off my weekend long run. Can't remember the last time that happened. Primarily because once again we had a major storm. The snow started on Friday, so on Saturday morning DH and I shovelled out from under that. Then we shovelled again in the afternoon. And I went out one more time in the late afternoon, since we were going out for the evening and wanted to minimize what we'd have to deal with on Sunday. Most of the snow fell Saturday night, and Sunday morning we were out there for another three hours. It was actually sunny and fairly calm and part of me really wanted to run. The other part of me, by the time we finished, was tired, hungry and cold. Some snow had got into my boots and my toes were little popsicles. And I wimped out - could not bring myself to suit up for 18 km while feeling that way, but also didn't have enough time to eat, digest, run and still accomplish everything else that needed to be done that day. It bummed me out but there was some consolation in knowing that I hadn't exactly been sitting around doing nothing for two days. And presumably my base is deep enough that one missed 18 km run isn't a "make it or break it" event.

At the risk of complaining too much - but what better place to vent? - I am sick, sick, sick of winter. We haven't had a record snowfall in total but we certainly had a record for the month of February. And possibly record snow on the ground, or at least close. I expected to be running outside in the mornings by now, at least some of the time, but so far that hasn't happened. I'm still too worried about ice. And not thrilled with the temperatures, but those I could just decide to cope with if the pavement was bare. I have had a few slips, one fall, and seen another person fall while walking on sidewalk that looked bare. It just doesn't give me an easy mind about running on the same pavement, in the dark.

And it's not just the snow and ice that brings on this "sick, sick, sick" feeling, it's everything that goes along with it. The running mostly on concrete instead of asphalt, and consequently having to deal with more traffic lights, cross walks and pedestrians. The wind that is icy, even when it's not very strong. The dodging around old snowbanks (thankfully, that's pretty much past) and puddles. The not dodging puddles - nothing says "great run!" like a surprise icy water foot bath. The using up a forest's worth of tissues because even when the sun is warm, the respiratory tract knows it's the perfect temperature to run like a faucet - just love breaking my pace to blow my nose. Multiple times. The groping under a jacket, while wearing gloves, to get at the water bottle. The foggy lenses when running with a balaclava. Enough, already.

I hope that the saving grace behind this is that my treadmill running has improved stuff like endurance and hills. Certainly I have noticed that my speedwork on the treadmill has been getting faster. Will it translate to anything else? No way to tell until I try something else. And I still hate hills but did five of them today. One of them - #4 - was with DH and I was running his pace, could have been faster, so that inspired some confidence. Then I did a repeat on my own and didn't have quite so much energy. Still, it was near the end of my run and it was a good effort. Given that one long climb at ATB I had to force myself to do one more today!

Amazingly, my hips (knock wood) haven't had issues during this training period. My left hamstring, OTOH, has been feeling tight lately. I had an ART session last week and had some work done on it, which helped. The thing that seems to help most, interestingly enough, is a session on the recumbent bike. Because Friday was a stat holiday, I was able to follow my 15 km race pace run with a 20 minute easy cycle, and it did feel pretty good. I'm also using the foam roller and some icing. It's not something that hurts while running - in fact, it's more discomfort than hurt, period - and my ART person didn't say to stop running, so I haven't. It's also not an all-the-time thing. Still, I am being careful that it doesn't get worse.

A week from now ATB will be long over. I remember a year ago, being so nervous about the distance and so stunned to have had such a great time. Definitely not expecting that kind of time this year, but the distance is no longer so scary. And since I know lots more now about fuelling and hydration, the last few km might well be tough but I won't be doing them on empty.

Work and life are both insanely busy but at the very least I'll post a race report once the dust settles.

Is it really just over eight weeks until Boston?!? That sounds like way too short a time frame to be true. Back in September when I registered, and even at Christmas when I was talking about it with my family, it seemed so far away and it was so exciting. Now it's just around the corner and the excitement is definitely entwined with nerves.

The intellectual part of my brain reminds me that I've been training, that I will keep training, and that it's the same distance I've already run twice. Except that Boston has hills (or, as I tend to think of them, HILLS). But it's the same distance. The emotional side still says, "But it's BOSTON - what was I thinking?" I don't really claim to understand any of this, but at the same time can't pretend it's not happening.

The silly thing is that I'm not even trying for a PB, and really have nothing riding on this marathon. All I have to do is show up and enjoy the experience. Given the hills, the fact that it's a crowded course, and the fact that I do want to enjoy it, Boston will probably be my slowest marathon time so far. And I'm more or less planning it that way. Which means even less pressure, and which means that I should be more anticipatory than anxious. Go figure.

Ultimately, I think the nerves are largely about the distance. And that's perfectly legit. The marathon is a long, scary distance and to approach it casually is (at least for me) to court disaster. A half marathon? A good run but distance-wise nothing too phenomenal. A marathon? Whole other story.

So, about that distance...how goes the actual training?

Pretty well. Here in Toronto we've had several winter storms and big dumps of snow in February, and that played havoc with the exercise schedule. More than once DH and I shovelled a bunch of snow before going to bed, then got up in the morning and shovelled what had arrived during the night. Even had we decided to ignore the snow and go to the gym anyway, I'm not sure we would have been able to get the car out of the garage and down the driveway.

In the end, I did manage to make up the missed runs, by running on cross-training days and logging the snow shovelling as cross-training. Missed the cardio but I'm sure moving that much weight around burned some calories. Having to do that also gave me a chance to test out where my body is in turns of being able to run multiple days in a row. Last week I ran Thursday-Friday-Saturday and then Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday. By Wednesday I could feel that my energy was a little less than usual and I was glad to have Thursday as a rest day, but wasn't experiencing any serious overuse aches and pains. So that is a good sign.

Yesterday's treadmill run was probably a record for me - I did 8.13 miles (13.08 km) in 60 minutes. Fridays are normally my "race pace" runs, where "race pace" refers to my best half marathons and means a little under 5 minutes/km. Lately I have discovered that a good way for me to get to a fast pace on the treadmill and stay there is to warm up a bit, then do a much faster interval for about three minutes, and then go to the pace I want to sustain, which feels much easier. So yesterday I did that - started around 6.2 miles/hour, then quickly accelerated to 8.0 miles/hour, thinking I would drop back to 7.6 miles/hour and stay there. But at the end of three minutes, 8.0 miles still felt pretty good - intense, but not impossible - and I decided to push myself and try to stay there. Amazingly enough, not only did I stay there, but around the halfway point I actually managed to do just over two miles at 8.5 miles/hour, which translates to a 7:03 minutes/mile pace. Pretty unbelievable. By the end of the 60 minutes I was dripping with sweat and pretty darn tired, but not exhausted, and mostly I just felt really good for having been able to do that.

Could I do it "in real life"? Maybe but I wouldn't count on it - it always seems that I can run faster on a treadmill. Something about actually watching the numbers go by in front of me makes it easier to keep going, maybe. I really don't know. But the combination of treadmill during the week and running outside on the weekends seems to have worked well for this winter. The treadmill is great for speedwork and hills when it is dark and icy outside.

Not that it's going to be dark outside in the mornings for much longer. It's starting to get light before 7:00 now, although it's still full darkness when we arrive at the gym, and we're only about a month away from the equinox. But it's definitely still icy in way too many places. Next week or the week after, depending on the combination of temperature and footing, I may start doing easy runs outside again in the mornings. But not hills, unless it's truly dry and ice-free. I have way too many visions of running down Avenue Road and hitting a patch of ice, and that's it for weeks or even months. Yes, other people do it and they're fine. Maybe other people just aren't as paranoid.

Speaking of injury, I got some very sad news this week from a runner near Hamilton who I've been corresponding with. She's a few years younger than me, and a little faster but still within range, and coincidentally enough also ran Spring and Fall marathons and by doing so got BQs for both 2008 and 2009. She's been fighting an injury for a while now and is reaching the point where it's not improving fast enough and she's having to think that Boston isn't going to happen this year. I really don't have the words to express how disappointing that must be for her, but can imagine it and empathise all too easily. It's been a very close-to-home fear for myself and it will remain so right up until the actual day.

So my fingers are still crossed because, as she says, "miracles do happen", but I can imagine the mental conversations that are taking place in her head. It's not as though she's not able to run at all (which would be worse, but would also have the effect of making the decision), and there has been some improvement. Enough for 42.2 km? If it only has to be done once and then months of rest, if necessary? Enough that some painkillers can control it? Etc. It sounds crazy - of course don't run if it's painful! - but that's really not how it works when running is part of your identity...

Back to my training. The longest "long run" so far was a little over 30 km on the last weekend in January. It was okay but a little tougher than I expected. Part of that was due to running on packed snow for a good chunk of the distance (love those Yak Trax, but snow is still more work) and part was some pronounced GI unhappiness. That whole hydration-fuelling balance that is so hard (for me, anyway) to find. But I did make it to the end and was in pretty good shape afterwards (i.e.: minimal (but not zero) aches and pains).

The next weekend was a rather useless (or at least that's the way it felt) 18+ km. We'd had a big snowfall on Friday, which was well over by late Saturday morning, and the temperature was pretty warm - I think about 1 C. There was still a lot of snow around, but DH suggested sticking to the side streets and running on the packed stuff, and that seemed like a good idea. But it ended up not working out so well. Too many cars, too many snowbanks, too many times what looked like packed snow turned out to be deep, loose snow, too many puddles at the corners... I did the whole distance, but with so many stops and starts that it rarely felt like a sustained effort. The last half was faster - more cleared sidewalks, more packed snow - but it was not a good quality run.

The next two weekends I threw in the outdoor running towel and used the indoor track at the U of T Athletic Centre. As it turned out, my remaining passes were due to expire tomorrow so at least it wasn't money wasted. The first weekend was because a) there was just way too much snow, b) it was well below freezing, c) there were winds gusting to 80 km/hour, and d) after the last run with winds like that there was no way I could face 26 km outside being miserable on all counts. Last weekend it was because there was still so much snow that I couldn't see having a quality run, even though the temperature was okay and it was also sunny.

Tomorrow should be a good day to be outside, though. The paths are impossible, so it will mean some creativity in finding a route that is 34 km long and doesn't have too many stop lights,pedestrians, snow banks or icy sidewalks, but it should work out okay. The temperature is supposed to be just below freezing, with sun, so it will be comfortable, at least. Obviously I will need to go slow, and I've been working out my fuelling plan. The best bet is probably GU2O in my water bottle, maybe one gel about the 15 km mark, and another around the 30 km mark. I kind of don't want to have the second one, but am practising for the 42 km distance. IOW, I need to be able to consume a gel at that point and be able to keep going, not succumb to GI distress.

Okay - this gets me mostly caught up. Time for a nice carbo-loading (but not too much) dinner in anticipation of tomorrow.

I slept in a little, I got up, I ate breakfast, I let it digest, I ran outside, I was miserable... Toughest and least enjoyable run in a long time.

Yesterday's forecast for today was for winds in the morning, letting up by the afternoon. Running in the afternoon largely means using up the whole day (since I know myself too well to think that I'll do housecleaning, etc., before going out) but it didn't sound too bad. Then today dawned, and the forecast was for wind all day long. DH and I talked about going to the University Athletic Centre, or the Y, but in the end decided to run outside as per our original plan. The actual temperature was around -9 and -10 C, wind chill about -20 to -22 C. But we had the clothes, the sun was shining, there was no snow on the ground - how bad could it be?

Bad. It could be bad. Not the ambient temperature, actually. Even with the wind, my body was warm. I was wearing long underwear, and my thicker tights, a long-sleeved shirt under a short-sleeved shirt under my warmer jacket, a balaclava and hat, and my nice new RR gloves that convert to mittens by pulling a flap over the fingers. For just -9 C I was probably a little overdressed - could have left off one shirt and not used the mitten flap - but with the wind I was not. So one positive is that I am learning more about what clothes work at various temperatures.

But the wind. Oh, the wind. It would occasionally die down, but it was blowing most of the time. With lots of gusts. When I got home I checked the weather network, and apparently the wind itself was somewhere around 50 km/hour, with gusts close to 70 km/hour. I believe it. Being such a weather weenie, I don't have a great association between quoted wind speed and how it feels. I just hate the wind in general. Always have. As I have said, thought and wrote many times, the winter wind is the one thing about my adopted city that I pretty much hate without reservation.

So today was tough going. The wind was mostly from the west and the north, so going east or south was often not too bad. Sometimes there was even the benefit of a tail wind. Or course, sometimes it would suddenly gust from the east or the south, a truly unpleasant surprise. Going west or north was largely unalloyed misery. At times the air was calm and it was no big deal. But running into the wind - especially the gusts - or sideways to the wind, was hard. Hard physically and hard mentally. I hate the sound of a heavy wind roaring around my ears, hate trying to keep my face warm against it, hate physically trying to push against it. There were times I had to stop and walk just to get a break, or even stop completely and turn my back. At least those were good chances to blow my ever-dripping nose.

The training plan called for 24 km; I managed 22.75 km in about 2:02. Under normal circumstances I would have made up that extra 1.25 or so km by running around the neighbourhood a bit, but today I reached our driveway and called the 22.75 "good enough". At that point the wind was actually going through one of its calmer phases, but I just didn't have the mental fortitude to deliberately put myself through another 7 minutes or so of unpleasantness when warmth was just a few steps away.

Having said all of that, there are a couple of details that could have made today's run just a little more pleasant. 1) a different balaclava. So far I have tried two, and neither of them really works for me, despite the way they appear to fit in the store. I am a small person and have a relatively small head, and the nose part continually slips down/off. So my face gets cold, especially in the wind. 2) a different hat. Same basic issue. My hat is currently adjusted to be the smallest it will go, and under normal circumstances it stays on okay. Today it got blown off (thereby obliging me to go sprinting after it) so many times I lost count. At least 7 or 8. The last time was into traffic during my last few km before home - oh joy. At least I got it back when the light turned red, not truly any the worse for wear.

When I first left home, the hat and balaclava were tucked nicely into each other and made a really good shield, leaving just my eyes exposed. But after losing the hat the first time, I could never get it back together the same way. Plus, at various times my fingers were getting rather cold. (A couple of years ago I had some mild frostbite shovelling snow, and ever since they get colder sooner than before). Making my hands into fists for a while warmed the fingers back up, but several times I was trying to adjust all this stuff with numb fingers that didn't have such great fine motion control.

Sigh. So I think it's time to acquire yet another balaclava, this time the kid's size. As for the hat - well, I don't really have an answer. Normally I wouldn't have worn my hat, because when it's cold I prefer my ear band. But with the sun, I wanted something to shield my eyes. Sunglasses wouldn't work because I have yet to find a solution to the fogging that happens in cold weather. I guess balaclava + hat + earband could be the answer, but that might be too warm.

Several people on the RR and RM forums have made remarks along the lines of they "love" running in the winter. Clearly they're having a different experience, because so far I am not exactly feeling the love. Between the technical face/head issues, the rather blurred vision due to no glasses, the nose that runs like a faucet, the sport beans that get cold, the masses of frozen ice after a heavy snow - what exactly is there to love?!?!?

But, in the end, I'm glad to have got in the miles and checked one more long run off the calendar. Next weekend is supposed to be 30 km. The long-range forecast currently calls for just below freezing and a little snow. After today, that feels like a cakewalk. But talk to me next weekend ;)

It's been a good week, at least in terms of training. It's year end at work and I'm pretty much exhausted from all that stuff, but it's Friday night so I'm putting it out of mind until Monday.

But unlike last week, when I took an unplanned rest day Tuesday, and switched my run to the elliptical on Friday, we got to the gym every day and I did almost everything according to schedule. Tuesday's speedwork covered more distance than usual, which means that although I came up 2 km short this morning, it pretty much balances out. One of our cats needs medicine every morning, and some days it goes down faster than others. Today was not a fast day, so my workout started late. Having to show up at the office after working out means I don't always have the flexibility to just go a little longer.

But anyway, this morning was a nice 10.24 km in 50 minutes. It started kind of slow but partway through I was able to increase the speed. Not a bad way to finish the week.

The snow we were supposed to get this weekend is no longer in the forecast, but it is going to be colder - high of -5 C tomorrow and -10 C on Sunday. Naturally I'm kind of dithering about my run. Saturday's temps would definitely be more comfortable. But I prefer doing my long runs on Sunday, and also prefer not to do one the day after a relatively fast run like this morning. Of course, it was only 10 km.

DH and I sort have plans for Saturday, but they could be switched to Sunday, but at this moment I'm pretty sure the run is going to be Sunday as usual. Of course, we can always change our minds when we get up tomorrow. That's one of the beauties of running - unless you've got plans with someone else, you have as much flexibility as your other commitments will allow. Just put on the gear and get to it.

Looking ahead, the schedule for the week is: 24 km this weekend, hills Tuesday, 12 km Wednesday, 11 km Friday. Cross training Monday and Thursday with the usual rest day on Saturday. Inevitably there are hills in my outdoor runs, and I often play a bit with the incline on the treadmill, but it's been a few weeks since my last actual hill workout. Should be fun ;)

And in the good news department, F1 confirmed that he's definitely in for Around the Bay this year. He will no doubt improve on his already great time from last year. Whereas I will probably be slower, wanting to leave more in the tank for Boston three weeks later. I really, really hope that F1 does a marathon this year and qualifies for Boston 2009 and goes. I would put off Vancouver until 2010 and do Boston again, just for the fun of sharing it with F1 and his wife. They are such great people, long-time friends of DH, and it was F1 who put me on this road in the first place by inspiring me to do a half marathon. Fingers crossed!