On Sunday June 17th, I ran the Tour du Lac
Brome 10km race. It was my first race in this year and I figured a 10k would be
just the right thing to go through the logistics of a race. I spent the
previous night at a friends cottage to avoid the morning of the race chaos and
stress of getting there on time. As it was, arriving at 7:50 was pretty late,
as everyone else seemed to arrive at the same time. After parking in the
farmers’ field, we hurried to get our race kits (one line) and then our goody
bag (another line). And this is how I lost my gang. I decided to slowly line up
for the buses taking us out to the finish in hopes of meeting up with everyone
again, or at least spotting them in the line. Eventually my bus drove off and I
still hadn’t spotted anyone familiar. I was wearing a very bright pink top, and
so would have been very easy to spot in a sea of black tops. The bus ride
seemed a lot farther than 10km, and the course was a lot hillier than I
imagined. A bit disconcerting. Whatever nerves I wasn’t having, were now waking
up from their slumber…
At the start, 5 busloads after mine, I found my running
gang. Made up of my neighbor, who talked me into this race, her sister in law
who sprinted the Ottawa half marathon in 1:45, her husband, another gazelle and
another of her friends who was a race newbie, I was somewhat intimidated and
fully nervous now. Maybe I hadn’t properly trained. In fact, I hadn’t really
trained for a 10k, I have just put in mileage to date. I hadn’t thought about
what I should have eaten, because for a normal 10k run workout, I don’t eat
anything unusual. No gels, no energy drink, no bars. And that seemed to be all
that anyone around me was talking about. I felt less and less confident and
decided to pretend like it was no big deal and that I would finish when I
finished and run my own race. The race started somewhat anti-climatically as we
suddenly found ourselves moving forward and across the start line. Ooops – go!
So we started out. I ran with my neighbor for a few kilometers, but then she
pulled away from me. After the fiddlers at around kilometer 3, I was running
alone. It was hot and there were lots of runners – 4000 or so, I think I heard.
I wasn’t wearing my iPod, and at first I regretted it, but as I ran, I liked
being really aware of my surroundings. Listening to all the footsteps, all the
breathing, the thumping coming out of others iPods, and there was a harpist at
around kilometer 2.
The course is really quite hilly. I don’t really mind
hills, I just need to know when they end and which is the last one. I hadn’t
done my research and so was running blind in a way. I did know, though, that
kilometer 5 was at the top of the longest hill. And sure enough after kilometer
4, we started up a slow, seemingly endless climb. Then I heard drummers. They held
a nice fast beat, rhythmic and energetic with encouragement too. Getting louder and louder as we all trudged up that ridiculous hill. I swear they
absolutely pulled me up that hill. At the top, there they were, the two of
them, in a tent banging and beating away with great big grins on their faces,
cheering us on. And just beyond, was the 5km marker. Such a welcome sight! I let
the downhill work to my advantage – this is new for me, I have usually tried to
slow down going downhill. So I accelerated as much as my legs let me and was
steadily catching up and passing targets ahead of me. And the hills just kept
coming and the flats weren’t all that flat. It’s a beautiful run, though,
hugging Lake Brome on the right and the inns, estates and golf courses on the
left. The trees gave much needed shade and there were lots of people cheering
along the road.
Between kilometer 7 and 8, I was in need of something to help
me out. I wasn’t fading, but I needed something to keep me going. So I tried to
figure out where I would be on my usual run in relation to the kilometer
markers. It worked to a point, until my brain kicked in and told my delusional
self that if I keep thinking "that" was only 1 kilometer, it would come over and
slap some sense into it. So I tried doing math –dividing the kilometers into
quarters, how many quarters had I run and how many were left. That didn’t even
take up a whole kilometer, real or delusional. So I picked up some water, ran
through some of the hoses and targeted more people ahead of me. I kept looking
at my watch for help. But it just gave me how much time I had been running, not
how much was left. I’m really good at getting to a known finish line, but if I
can’t see the finish line, I figure I should slow down to be extra sure that I
make it there. But I kept running. And running. There certainly is a whole variety
of running shoes out there – the regular ones, ones that looked more suited to
sprinting and the five-toed ones. They can’t be all that comfortable to run in
can they? Are running skirts better than spandex shorts or running shorts?
There was a lady that I passed who was wearing a thong under her spandex
shorts. I spent several hundred meters contemplating how comfortable that could
possibly be to run in. I was coming into town now, and could spot the tower
near the finish line, so I picked it up. And then I past the 8km marker. Better
slow down – there is no way I can sprint 2 kilometres in this heat. Who am I kidding? I can't sprint 2 kilometres ever. A few more
sprinklers to run through and then at 9km, I tried as best I could to pick it
up. A right hand turn and I saw the farmer’s field finish line. Crap – the
finish isn’t on the road but a few hundred meters off the road. The thought of
throwing up started entering my head. I crossed the line absolutely exhausted
and in desperate need of water and shade. Happily they were handing water out
just past the finish line.
I looked at my watch 59:09. Stunned. I can barely
run a 5 kilometer treadmill set in under 30 minutes and I have never broken 1 hour for a 10k. I’m by no means a gazelle,
I like to think of my self much more as an efficient lumbering rhino – I may
not be fast, but I will finish. And I just did two back to back 5ks in under 30
minutes. I was ecstatic. I grabbed much needed nourishment from the food tent
(and beer!) and happily ate, despite my grin.
I'm sticking to "chip" vs "time", if that's ok with you.
On the drive home, I listened to my usual running music, found
some new ones that I had forgotten about, windows open, shoes and socks off,
munching on my snack, drinking my water and thoroughly pleased with myself.
The drive home
Of course, the next day I had a 40 minute bike ride/20
minute run brick. And I hadn’t stretched after the race. It will be a few days
before my legs and I are on speaking terms.
