 |
 " Everyone has a different description of what it feels like to hit the wall." |
|||
|
Ben Kong Toronto Marathon, Oct, 2003
|
Time is not always of the essence Marathons: Hartwell Challenge Half-Marathon, Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon and Toronto Full Marathon It was a cool Sunday morning on October 17, 2003. The setting is the route for the Toronto Marathon, formerly the Canadian International Marathon. I was shuffling along in what was my first attempt at the marathon distance. Then I hit the wall. Knee first. Hills can be a humbling part of a marathon for any runner. That fact is not lost on a lot of marathon organizers, who proudly advertise the fact that their "flat and fast" courses are mostly void of the dreaded inclines. So as I clutched my left knee in what was the worst pain I had ever felt in my 13 odd years of running, I wondered why I decided to make my marathon debut on a course that was known for having a few tough hills. Sure enough, the pain shot through my leg like an electric shock as I was completing one of those rolling sections. As I stopped to stretch out my left leg and watched other marathoners pass by, my thoughts drifted to how the marathon insanity all began. It was about six months prior to the marathon date when I received a call at work from the Toronto Marathon organizers. At the time, I was employed as an editor at a local newspaper and the organizers were inquiring about coverage. Our publication had run promos for the Toronto Marathon’s cross-town rivals, the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon. These two events, situated just a few weeks apart in the fall, make Toronto unique in the sense that it has two big-ticket marathons. Both events attract thousands of participants each year, and both do so with distinctly different routes. However, both events also compete directly against each other, waging a tireless battle for a share of the local running scene. Understandably, the Toronto Marathon brass wanted to know how they could get similar exposure in our newspaper. I was familiar with one of the organizers, whom I had met during the previous year when our company entered a team into the event’s eight-person marathon relay. After explaining to him that the promos were paid advertisement, it was with some guilt that I admitted I was registered for the Waterfront event’s half-marathon. Our discussion then gave birth to a new idea: I would enter the Toronto Marathon as well, and write an article in the newspaper about my experiences. The features editor approved of the idea, so I put my plans in motion to prepare for both events. I decided to enter the full-marathon in order to gain a full appreciation for the event. As the Waterfront half-marathon took place at the end of September, it could serve as timely warm-up for my marathon debut. Everyone thought I was nuts, including myself. You see, I was a runner who could be described as a classic anti-marathoner --- a hard-core time junkie who was obsessed with improving personal best times in shorter distances. In my previous running life, I had never attempted any distance longer than 11km. I had even told people that I would "never be capable of running a marathon", buying into the belief that my body was not genetically built to handle such a distance. That changed in April 2003, when I made my half-marathon debut on a hilly course at the Bob Hartwell Challenge in Aurora. I had enlisted the services of a running coach to prepare for the event, and his assessment of my abilities had me believing --- possibly for the first time ever --- that the full marathon was not an impossible distance. On the work front, everything did not go as planned, as I was presented with a layoff slip at the start of summer. However, I decided to attempt the full-marathon anyway, as it would at least provide an outlet to deal with the stress of unemployment. Following the theme of sampling two rival businesses, I registered for two different marathon clinics and completed them simultaneously. One clinic was held on Tuesdays at a Running Free store, while the other was on Thursdays at a local Running Room location. The friendly rivalry between the two chains prompted me to be mindful not to wear one store’s apparel in the other! There were several advantages to doing both clinics. I found that the two training programs complemented each other, and I was able to meet more people who were working toward the same goal. The instructors were well qualified. The Running Room clinic was taught by a tireless and dedicated clinic instructor who was training for an ultra-marathon. The Running Free clinic was taught by two people --- one of who was the same coach who guided me to completing the Hartwell Challenge. There were also a variety of guest speakers, including one named Angelo who shared an inspirational story of how he trained for a marathon after being diagnosed with cancer. However, for those who are interested in taking a marathon clinic, my advice is that taking one clinic is enough! The downfall to taking both clinics was an excess of interval and hill training. I also allowed my habit of entering Sunday morning races to conflict with my long runs --- a mistake that would factor into my marathon debut. In September, I contracted food poisoning after eating poutine from a well known fast-food chain. I was unable to eat solid food for three days. I do not know to this day whether it was a setback or blessing, as I had shed seven pounds in those three days. My training took big strides forward as I was able to run longer and harder without the extra weight. However, fellow clinic participants marvelled at how I could eat junk food while training for a marathon! It was then time for the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront event. I was focused on completing the half-marathon in less than two hours. Problem was, I was late getting to the start line by four minutes (word of advice to first-timers: take your pee break well before the start time). By the time I crossed the starting mats, the back-end of the runners, walkers and trailing vehicles had turned off of John Street and towards the Toronto waterfront. I made a wild dash to catch up with the pack, and spent the next few kilometres weaving in and out of the slower group. I then rolled on my right ankle at the 5km mark. Fortunately, it was not serious, and I was able to continue after a brief rest. I was on pace to finish in under two hours until the 19 km mark, when the quick start and sore ankle caught up with me. I ended up finishing with a chip time of 2:02 and change, which was a personal best, yet disappointing time. In the days leading up to the Toronto Marathon, I tapered my training as directed. I even snuck in a 5km race in Whitby, which I ran in a season-best time. My conditioning, confidence, and optimism were at its highest point in many years, and I was anxious to get to that start line. I even toyed with the notion of attempting to qualify for Boston one day. It was then that I found a new job, and it did not take long for the CEO to find out that I was running a marathon in several days. As a former marathoner with a PB of around three hours, he advised me to "stick with your pace" and that "the wall is real … you will hit it." On that advice, I plotted out a simple strategy that would prevent me from starting the race too quickly. I would start at the very back of the pack and talk to other runners during the first 10km. Then I would pick it up and finish the marathon in 4:30 or less. Waiting at the finish line near Queen’s Park would be Angela, my best friend, moral support and involuntary observer of all my marathon preparation. The day finally arrived. I waited until every single person crossed the starting mats in front of Mel Lastman Square, and all that remained were myself and a police cruiser that would tail the back of the pack. I took walking breaks every ten minutes and struck up a conversation with Steve, a fellow marathoner who also opted for the easy start. We chatted until we passed the 10 km mark, where I looked at my watch and was alarmed to see a 1:15 split --- much slower than anticipated. After bidding Steve good luck, I pulled my cellphone out of my fanny pack and spoke with Angela, telling her that everything was going as planned, that I would finish in under 4:30. By the way, I do not recommend you carry a cellphone while you race, either, although it amused the traffic police that I talked on my cell while running a marathon. I then made a classic novice mistake. I promptly sped up to a nine minute per mile pace in order to make up for lost time. This continued until the halfway mark, when I crossed the mats with a 21.1 km split time of 2:18. At that point, I figured I had a decent chance of finishing in my targeted time. I then tackled Toronto’s version of Heartbreak Hill --- Yonge Street near Hogg’s Hollow. It did not seem that big once I was halfway up, and the rest of the course would be mostly downhill. However, the challenging hill took its toll, and I decided to take a break. I ran into a local pub to use their washroom. Luckily, I was a regular at the pub, and had spoken to the owner the week before about using the facilities should I need them. She recognized me and gave me a glass of ice water and words of encouragement, to the amusement of the beer-drinking patrons at the bar. Back into the race I went, and I picked up the pace considerably as I proceeded down Yonge Street --- my quickest pace on the day. My first signs of fatigue would result as I was passing through the Forest Hill area, around the 28 km mark. I began to walk every five minutes. Thoughts flashed back to the few long runs I had skipped in the summer, and that my longest practice run was 33 km. Recall the CEO’s warning about "the wall". It is supposedly the point where your body simply refuses to run another step. Even as my pace tailed off with each passing kilometre, "the wall" was the last thing I had on my mind. Until I hit it. Everyone has a different description of what it feels like to hit the wall. My experience came in the form of numbness and dizziness, followed by a sharp pain in my left knee. It happened as I was on a rolling portion of the Bayview Extension, around the 33 km mark. Ironically, this was a downhill portion of the course, which confirmed what many runners already know: downhill slopes can be even tougher on your knees than uphill ones. While I attempted in vain to stretch out my left leg, I watched as other marathoners pass by. One of them was Steve, who seemed surprised to see me at that point. I then attempted to jog another two kilometres before I gave into the pain. A course medic on a bicycle gave me some sound advice: "You can always try again next year. But if you blow out your knee today, then it’s over (for good)." Seeing as I had 7km to go, I decided to walk the rest of the course and cross the line. I was going to finish this thing, even if they took away the finish line before I got there. I was given a plastic bag from a fellow marathoner to tie around the top of my left knee, in order to give it a little compression, and I trudged on. Seven kilometres never felt so long in my whole life! The rear-trailing police cruiser eventually caught up with me, and the police officers inside were yelling out encouragement to me. My mother even called me on my cellphone, asking how I had done in the race (she couldn’t hold back laughter when I told her that I was still trying to finish it!) With less than a kilometre to go, I found myself beside a couple from my running clinic, who were following the "to complete" pace bunny. This couple gave me an inspirational lift as they were much older than I was, and they were well on their way to completing. At the very least, I wanted to complete with them. As we turned the corner near Queen’s Park, out jumped our Running Room clinic instructor, telling me that I needed to pick up the pace. He then noticed the bag wrapped around my knee, and asked if I was hurt. I said that I was, and then promptly attempted to run the last few hundred metres. I don’t know why I did --- perhaps the mind tends to wander after 42 km --- but all I heard was "pick up the pace." Then I saw Angela near the finish, who ran to greet me at the finish line. I was never more elated to see a finish line in my life. I stepped across the mats in a time of 5:37, but the time no longer meant anything to me. Angela helped to support me after I crossed the finish line and collected my finishing medal. Some of the other people from my running clinic were also there to cheer on the finishers, a welcome sight. I limped over to the medical tent and obtained a bag of ice for the sore knee, which was no worse than it was 7 km previously. A few days later, I was relieved when my doctor diagnosed it as nothing more than a bad case of knee tendonitis, something that was brought under control with a month of physiotherapy. That clinic instructor later told me that watching my finish "was the most inspirational thing he had seen". Yet, the same could be said about everyone else who completed that marathon. The ordeal taught me a lesson I will not soon forget: completing a marathon is an achievement in itself, and the time in which it takes to do so is just a formality. I now realize that everyone who crossed that finish line --- from the Ethiopian runner who won the marathon in 2:25, to the people who jogged the 5km fun run in 45 minutes --- did something special on that day, something that not everyone in this world is able to do. I also learned from my mistakes and gained valuable experience for ‘next time’. The question I constantly ask myself is, will there be a next time? Qualifying for Boston now seems like a distant dream, and there are many days when I think that I will never be able to run a marathon again. But as the old saying goes: I have a lifetime of knowing that I have already completed one. In the mean time, I decided to write that article about my marathon experience that I never got to see in print. Thank you for reading it! Ben Kong, Markham, Ontario June 2004 The Administration
of Canadian Marathon Stories regrets that we have had to temporarily
disable the individual story guest book functionality due to a spamming
problem. Please leave your comments in our main guestbook at
http://canadianmarathonstories.com/guestbook.htm |
..... | ||
  
  |
||||
| A B O O K O F E X T R A O R D I N A R Y I N S P I R A T I O N S | ||||
|
|