How not to run a Half Marathon…

I wrote this race report back in October, but chose not to post it as it really wasn’t one of my finer moments.  I re-read this again recently and remembered that old quote “Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new”.

Have a good laugh on me…

Race:     Niagara Falls Half Marathon

Date:     October 25, 2009

The story starts last Saturday during the day, when I was playing with my youngest son Ethan at the birthday party my in-laws were hosting for him.  During the festivities, my Brother in law Mike mentioned the UFC fight later on that night and asked what my plans were with regards to watching it.  I hadn’t thought much of it as I had the Niagara Half Marathon early the next morning, but I quickly did the math in my head and figured that if I snuck a nap in with Ethan that afternoon, I’d still manage to pull off 6 hours of sleep prior to the race.  My wife Jen had also mentioned to me that she was going to try and come to the race to cheer me on and hang out with the kids and my sister (who was also coming), perhaps she could drive as I catch a few Z’s on the way.  I thought, ahhhh what the hell… there were some good fighters on the card that night – and it’d be nice to get out.   

Mistake #1.  Went to watch the fight with Mike at the pub. 

That evening my brother in law had a pay duty to do (He’s a Police constable) but he said he’d pick me up in and around 10pm when his pay duty ended.  I decided to wait outside for him so the dog didn’t bark and wake up everyone in the house, primarily my youngest son Carter (3 weeks old).  Mike picked me up and off we went to the local tavern.  Once there it was only moments before I had a freshly poured ice cold pint of Guinness in front of me, and it was only moments after that when the glass sat there empty – the fight hadn’t even yet started… I suppose I was thirsty. 

Mistake #2, 3, 4, 5, 6, & 7.  Ordered that next beer. 

The fight sucked. 

The morning of the race came quicker than I thought it would, and to be honest with you it was a bit foggy for me.  I recall waking up with a massive headache and not in any shape to walk yet alone run.  I made my way over to the bathroom slapping the alarm clock on the way, and stood in front of the mirror for about ten minutes trying to focus on what I had to get done that morning in preparation for the race. Trying I guess is the key word of that statement as I couldn’t keep my train of thought in order for the life of me.  Finally I gave up and just made my way down to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of “Life” cereal… which is funny as I wasn’t really feeling full of life that morning. 

Jen had already been awake with the kids for a while, and my eldest son Ethan was already dressed and ready to go.  Beautiful.  It only took me 20 minutes from this point before I was fully ready, clothed and set to go.  My wife however… not so much.  I had explained how important it was for me to arrive at the race early to check in and catch the bus to the start line (race was hosted at the finish line, they bus you out to the start and you run back).  6:30am was the time I wanted to leave, but for anyone reading this whom have young children know that it’s not all that easy.  I’ll save the details, but we were out the door at 7:20… it was going to be tight, but doable. 

Once on the highway I was starting to get somewhat excited about the race, and the festivities that generally go along with a race of this caliber.  The ceremony happening at the finish line, all the vendors scattering the streets and the athletic atmosphere are a few of my favorites.  It had been a while since my last race and I had just started to enter the winter racing blahs that I experience every fall just as the Triathlon and bike races come to a close.  I decided to enroll into more running races throughout the winter to help maintain the competitive edge, and keep the excitement I experience with racing alive.  It was only a few kilometers down highway 400 when my wife asked if I had packed the stroller for the kids (as she had asked me to do the day prior).   

Mistake #8.  Didn’t pack the stroller. 

If there’s a time in my life where frustration met sadness and anger, this was it.  I sat there driving quietly trying to figure out how to sell Jen on the idea of carrying the car seat around for a few hours with an 8 pound baby inside of it – it wasn’t until Ethan interrupted this thought by saying “I have to Pooh” that I had realized my chances of racing today are done.  Needless to say, I turned around and headed home.  After the business was taken care of with Ethan, and the stroller was packed, we were off and on the highway Niagara bound once again.  Time of day: 7:48am.  I knew that I wasn’t racing today, and I was trying to calm myself down by focusing on the family trip to the falls.  Needless to say I was disappointed.  Along the way we still picked up my sister in Oakville, and continued driving along the QEW. 

We made some decent time on the highway and still managed to arrived in Niagara Falls just before 9:30am.  I had a glimmer of hope that I might actually be able to race still, I just had to get to the finish area prior to the buses leaving.  A friend of mine that resides in Niagara Falls had told me of an area to park at that was free and safe.  These days with my wife on Maternity leave I’m all about things that are free!!  What he didn’t tell me is that the parking area is about 2 or 3 kilometers away from the Finish line, of which a kilometer of this was stairs!  I tossed my wife my cell phone and wallet, grabbed my toque, walkman and gloves and off I ran towards the general direction of the race site.  Once I made it there I started asking anyone that looked official where I was supposed to catch the shuttle bus to the starting line; most people didn’t have a clue whatsoever, but the ones who did all answered the same – They had already left.  I was somewhat okay with this as I gave it my all to get there on time, and I kind of knew that my chances of racing were slim to none.  To be honest I wasn’t really in any shape to run a half marathon after the night prior anyway.  I turned around and with my race bib tucked under my arm, my pride diminished slightly, I started walking back towards the car (and the mountain of stairs I now had to climb).   

As I walked I overheard someone calling “excuse me sir” – I spun around to see what was up.  There were two ladies dressed in running attire with the same coloured bib as me pinned to their shirts, they asked if I knew where the buses were that they were supposed to catch.  I grimaced and broke the bad news to them.  They didn’t react very well to the news as they had come in from Williamsville New York and were pretty excited about racing.  As we stood there shooting the breeze, a Niagara “People Carrier” (odd shaped smaller bus) pulled in right beside us; all three of us reacted the same way and stormed the bus in an attempt to reach the bus driver.  We asked the bus driver if she was taking participants to the start line of the race, and her response was a very weak and confused “yes”.  All three of us were overjoyed to hear the news as we all sat down together on the bus and looked forward to the race ahead.  We started asking the usual questions when you meet new people “where are you from, what time were you hoping to finish the race in etc.”.   

As the bus drove off I began fastening the bib to my shirt, timing chip to my shoe and MP3 player to my arm.  I was still nursing a killer headache from the night before and now some knots in my stomach.  About 6 minutes into the bus ride, we turned into a park like setting where there was a bunch of people waiting in a group.  The bus then came to a halt and the driver came over to see that we got off okay.  The puzzled look on our faces must have been enough to indicate something was wrong, as she quickly began to explain how this is the route she was hired to do.  It was very clear that we hadn’t traveled 21.1 kilometers away from the finishing chute, nor was the bus going anywhere else other than back to the finishing line.  I guess with our panic stricken voices we must have caused a bit of commotion as there was a man standing in the middle of the bus kind of listening in to what we were discussing.  When I spotted him, he asked what was going on.  After briefly bringing him up to speed, he started phoning around to his wife and friends in an attempt to find out the shuttle bus situation and where the start line is actually located.  After calling around and not reaching anyone, he for some reason decided to point to his car and he yelped “get in, I’m taking you”.   

Mistake #9.  Got in the car with a complete stranger. 

We didn’t really ask any questions as we hustled over to his Honda Civic and we all crammed in.  I thanked him profusely, and asked him if he was sure he was okay with doing this as I’m sure it was putting him out.  He shrugged it off and introduced himself as Dave… quite a nice guy actually.  As we took off, Dave continuously phoned around to his friends and family trying to get a clear direction on where this race was starting.  Dave was a local Niagara area resident who had family that was partaking in the 5 kilometer race. 

We had driven for about 15 minutes and had tried several times to gain access to the road that the race course occupied, but we were turned away by the police on the course (rightly so) who had roadblocks at every intersecting road.  Frustration was at an all time high amongst us until we finally found a police officer that allowed us onto the course with the vehicle.  We traveled down the road for a good while before we were hit with a massive amount of people… yep, the runners.  The race had already started and we were like a pacific salmon swimming downstream while the others swim upstream to spawn. 

Now you have to understand this is kind of a blur as I sat there still trying to overcome a massive headache and now gut rot, all while trying to comprehend what the hell was going on.  Moments ago I had called this race a no go as I had missed catching the bus to the starting line.  Now I sit here in a perfect strangers car with other people I don’t know, that keep egging this guy on to drive faster through a crowd of thousands – all of whom were yelling pretty irate things at us.   

Despite everyone yelling at us, we ventured on slowly towards the starting area.  It was at the point when I feared for my life that Dave decided to turn off the road and travel up a bicycle path that ran parallel with the road.  Although less busy as far as people running are concerned, the path could only have been as wide as the car was and it weaved in and out through trees.  I’m not going to lie, I can’t really recall too much about this part because for a good portion of it I had my eyes closed.  What I do know is that we somehow ended up dodging a few cyclists and made our way back on the road again where we were speeding along quite nicely.  Then it happened… Out of no where the Starting line appeared. 

Once the car stopped, I was quick to hop out of it.  Now as mentioned throughout this entire event I had not really been feeling well at all, what with a bit of gas and such.  By the time I had finished going through all the commotion of speeding, being yelled and cursed at, and the drive down the bumpy bike path, I was in real trouble.  There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing… and to make matters worse, the pressure was building.  I just figured it was only a bit of gas that could have been passed during the first kilometer of the run without much issue or concern.Unfortunately, that was not to be. 

Now I have to say that what happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy to me, but I will try and reconstruct them as best I possibly can.  The precise moment I hopped out of the car must have triggered something inside me.  I’m not sure if the two heaping bowls of Life cereal I consumed in the morning finally met up with the numerous pints of Guinness still in my system, or if I had caught some form of bug.  Whatever the case was, it caused me to dry heave a little when I stood up.  The dry heaving led to me having a rarely experienced gag reflex, which in turn made me throw up right there on the spot.  After what seemed like an eternity, I finally stopped vomiting and looked around to assess the damage and see whom may have caught all of this.  Thankfully, the two ladies from Williamsville were too busy giving thanks to Dave to notice what had happened.   I actually made it through scott free, nobody saw!!  I quickly rinsed my mouth out with purple Gatorade, and made my way over to shake Dave’s hand and thank him for the super nice gesture.  We all exchanged contact information, and made our way to the start of our race (now already a half hour in).  Once I started running, my stomach took no time to inform me that it wasn’t happy.  Shortly after the first mile, I had to make my first of many pit stops along the way.   

The race course takes place along a beautiful road called Niagara River Parkway that parallels Niagara River.  It’s a very flat course with a combination of beautiful architecture, mature trees and a golf course lining the street along the way.  Not much happened throughout the race as I pretty well ran alone for the most of it until I caught up to the walkers a few miles in.  There were Gatorade/Water tables at every mile marker, and (thankfully) portapotty’s too.  The weather was prime for a race like this as it was on the cooler side, but with a very warm sun that was shining.   

Despite the night prior, I had ran all 21 kilometers of the race with really no problems at all.  I did have to make 5 very intense and quick pit stops at a couple of the mile markers, but other than that it was a good race (all things considered).  I made it to the finishing chute in 1:52:48 chip time (2:22:34 gun time), collected my medal and looked for my friends and family.  As I waited I started thinking about everything that had just occurred, what could I do but laugh.  I must have looked like a complete idiot as I stood there with the tinfoil blanket given to me at the finishing line wrapped around me, my finishers medal on, and me staring out at the falls laughing my face off!!  I laughed so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to stop myself and scurry off towards the car where my wife and kids were waiting for me. 

The upshot of all of this is that I strongly recommend registering next year for the Niagara Falls Half Marathon. It is truly a race you will remember, and they have by far the nicest people in attendance of any venue I have ever raced at.