Race: Toronto Half Marathon
Date: May 15, 2011
The first thing I did this morning at 6:00 am was go to the window. If it was horizontal rain and less than 10C, I was ducking back under the covers – fahgeddabowdit (after all I had not paid for this race). I am certain that is what my running pals thought, when they couldn’t find my result on Sportstats later that day. The weather forecast was not rosy, but however wet the ground was, little precipitation was in the air. Race day was a go, and I was actually looking forward to my first race as an elite entrant.
I was curious how the day would unfold. Last fall at Toronto, I hit a new 21k PB in 1:18:26, securing my first master’s podium in a top race, and also earning my first elite entry. Today was new territory for me, my first race as a master’s elite, low bib number (4001) pinned to shirt and ready to roll. I had trained for today’s race a little differently than last fall: less mileage, higher quality and a good taper. What would my legs give me?
As I drove in, I thought about my shape and realized that this was the best I have been in a while, and the best I have prepared. Nary a niggle or ache to care about. Last year’s race was wedged in near the end of high mileage marathon training for Hamilton. I had niggles. My preparation involved nothing more than taking the Saturday off. Looking back, my Tuesday tempo has been full tilt and my Thursday track sesson something like 8 x 1 mile repeats in the 5:45 range. This time, I had tapered back on all fronts. Surely a new PB was in hand.
For the first time this year, I found good sleep on each of the two nights before race day. I was finally properly rested and mentally prepared to push hard, really hard. I wanted a new PB at the least, and 1:17:xx was going to mine if I could best those last three brutal klicks up to Queen’s Park.
So the table was set, time to dine! On the menu were most of last fall’s masters returned for another tilt: Warriner, Davey, yours truly, and Huyer. We were missing our beloved Johnny Jogger who was still not quite recovered from Boston. And a newcomer to the masters ranks, Jan Pedder who owns some eye-popping times, would make things interesting. Realistically, Pedder and Warriner were out of reach, so I would be battling Davey for last spot on the podium and another fancy watch – so each of us thought.
These opening paragraphs are a fine example of the mindset of runner getting closer to the top. Hopefully not arrogance, but definitely cocky and sure. I might add, on this day feeling a bit indestructible and slightly immortal. The rain was not a concern; bring it on! I had certainly done enough tempo runs in the rain; the advantage was mine. With so many things just right, how could it go wrong?
After a crisp opening km of 3:30, I let my mark Davey slip ahead. My goal, as last year, was to average 3:40/k (basically 11 minutes each 3k). There was no point getting too far ahead, plenty of time could be made up through Rosedale Valley. By the time the valley arrived, Davey was not too far ahead. Time to reel him in!
However, the 3:30’s I expected would not come, and I sputtered along at low 3:40’s. Last year, those 3:30’s came so effortlessly, this year I was working inexplicably harder. During the earlier km’s, I had noticed some tightness in my left hamstring. I had attributed this to overstriding the downhills, which I had corrected by shortening stride and increasing turnover. The tightness still must have been causing some inefficiency. Davey remained ahead, but still catchable.
The turn onto the Bayview Extension spelled the end of the downhill honeymoon. The next 6 or 7 km would require serious work, and when I started to push my hamstring went into full cramp. My race ended at 14.67 km, 54:50 from the start gun. Walked off the course and up River Street, no use continuing.
It is still a bit of a mystery why I cramped, it certainly came without much warning. It was likely my old biomechanical impairment (hip imbalance). I received some fine medical attention, including ART at the finish line. My SI joint needed opening, and my pelvis was not as aligned as it should have been, overworking my hamstring. This, after weekly chiro and ART. Go figure.
The day wasn’t a waste. I learned that high mileage training trumps high quality training, at least for me. Next, the realization that all runners remain mortal, from beginners to elites. We all share the same limitations. I have lived with biomechanical issues ever since I laced them up. In that regard, nothing has changed even though I have become much faster. And finally, I ditched the race as many elites would – walked off when the day was not to be, saving it for next time.
Just Call Me Danny: Who is kidding who? I am no elite. After bailing I slowly jogged east and rejoined the race course headed north towards Queen’s Park. The race was over for me, but not for the dog-tired runners passing by. So I clapped and offered encouragement to all who passed. It was about 1:22 on the race clock as I neared the finish. To cross the line would not be fair, so I walked off here to seek medical attention. I then chummed around with my race pals while we waited for the results to post. If I could not enjoy my own achievement, at least I could share in theirs. In many respects, Danny Kassap’s last race went the same way. I am honoured to report that I emulated his excellent example.
