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 "This is a marathon, expect the unexpected" |
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Linda Wagar Ottawa, May , 2008
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On May 25th 2008, in perfect albeit warm conditions in Ottawa, I completed my fifth marathon distance. My favourite running distance is behind me. It is the first time I have come close to being a DNF (did not finish) It was, by all personal standards, my favourite and my strongest experience. I was grateful to the marathon gods for helping me. The next day, I was further blessed with the feeling of knowing that not only was I strong, no body parts complained, or went missing. It was like I had never put myself thru this race. I took this as a good sign for what I am preparing to do on July 18th, in Edmonton, Alberta. How do you NOT experience that awful feeling, let alone not be sore the next day? To quote a famous running shoe company, “The Mind leads the Body.” While I was in training I was lucky to learn that adversity can translate into a stronger training regime. On Sunday, April 6th having run a training run of 29K, I came to realize that this was actually the easiest part of my day. I knew the challenges I was facing in my real life far surpassed the difficulties of this run. I can attest that I was able to channel my personal obstacles and this became a helpful tool to overcome my real life perfect storm. It was an unexpected welcome to know that no matter how much I was being tested, and how much I would be forced to endure that much of my suffering could be channelled into my training. Real life happens. In essence, my training mimicked my marathon, and my psyche was conditioned to expect the unexpected. I had spent three days prior to the marathon at the Sports Expo, under the Canadian Athletes Now Fund booth. I met some of the contributors to the Canadian Marathon Stories Book., and I volunteered my energy to promote raising funds for Canadian athletes, by encouraging runners to sign up for next year’s campaign of 2010 Runners raising $210. It was truly a three day party and I would sell a few books as well and meet many wonderful people. I even shook hands with Ralph Westgarth. This man is the main character in a story written by Scott Haldane in the Canadian Marathon Stories book. I edited and re-edited, and conservatively took out that famous sentence, “You have just been dead; you can’t run when you have just been dead!” Ralph is not what I expected. I also did not expect him to be a grade one teacher. He introduced me to one of his students, now twenty-one years old and he would help pace his student now turned marathoner and help him qualify for Boston. Later, I would learn he missed it by 11 seconds. Truth is always stranger, and sometimes more difficult to handle, than fiction. Eleven seconds could be worse, could have been one second. I have heard of such atrocities. Real life happens. While I ran on that perfect Sunday morning I later would reflect that this was no different than moments that suggest I was mimicking an anxiety attack. Let me explain. At the 25K mark, I stopped at a water station that was also giving out sponges. The heat was beginning to beat down on us. A volunteer hands me a sponge and says: «Here, Linda Wagar, have a sponge!” “Who are you?” I asked. He took off his hat in order to help me recognize my “sponge angel” and said: “André Champagne” I instantly remembered him as a former parent at École Montessori d’Ottawa. He had been known to tell me he didn’t get “us” long distance runners, referring to his wife, and the rest of us. Great that he is volunteering, you can never have enough volunteers. “André, I need a gel, do you have gels?” “No, just sponges, here, have another one, you will be OK, just keep running, Kathy (wife) is up ahead” I couldn’t help but ask, “Does she have gels?” I was feeling myself panicking by the second. Since the start of the race, I have consumed two gels. In this heat, I need another, and I need it now. I am beginning to feel like I am going into a full blown anxiety attack, while I am racing. This can’t be good. I turn my music louder thinking it will trick my body into thinking I am more energized than I really am. I keep running only to find myself merging with the half marathon runners, who take the Bronson ramp off Colonel By Drive. I keep yelling out, “Anyone have a gel, I need a gel!” I feel like a crazy woman, which of course at this point, I truly am. I am crazed and I don’t care, I am running a marathon and I need sugar! I am told by runners around me that I am going the wrong way, I get off the course and get back on Colonel By Drive and some runner yells out to me, “You need a gel?” “YES!” He pitches my life line like a fast pitched soft ball and I sprint to catch my gel Having to bend to retrieve it on the ground makes me appreciate the momentary calf and hamstring stretch. I gulp the vanilla flavoured gunk like a dog that gobbles a chunk of steak The most difficult part of the race will be OK. I have sugar, feeding my glycogen levels, the music will do the rest. This is the lonely stretch, the part where you start questioning your sanity. Heron Road Bridge offers up a good hill in the middle of this lovely stretch of loneliness. I see a young man, with very long legs, sitting on the curb midway up the hill. I find myself going into coaching mode. I invite him to run with me. He looks unsteady, but somehow he gets himself started. “That’s it, nice and easy, your legs are tired, just use your arms to propel your body up the hill, your arms are your legs right now, let them help you climb. That’s it, and if you tighten your abs, the core will help to straighten your posture and stabilize your body and make you go up with more ease. Get strength from your core and the rest just follows.” I keep talking to him, I find out it is his first marathon, he is 21 yrs old and he went out too fast. He did not tolerate the heat and he conked at 21K. I tell him a bit about myself and he asks if he can “jog” with me to the end. His jog is my race pace. He can say goodbye to the 4 hour marathon dream, we all just need to finish this thing. One of the reasons I embrace running long is my genetic disposition, inherited by my mother, to not have to stop and use the porta potties along the way. I simply don’t need them. This was not the case on May 25th. We approach what I refer to as the circle of hell at the Experimental Farm. I tell my jogging partner I will catch up to him later. I am taken aback by what I am experiencing. I spend at least 10 minutes with severe bowel revenge of some kind. I start thinking I cannot finish the race, I feel so empty and dehydrated. I am never troubled by this. This is a marathon, expect the unexpected. Later, my husband would remind me of why I was running this race. It was for my own “healing” and for Emilie Mondor, who had hoped to run and represent Canada in Beijing this summer. “Sometimes, when “healing” you need to purge yourself from all the shit” Supportive non running husbands are bang on. I caught up with my 4 hour wannabee and I should not have been so graphic with him, however I like to think that sharing my first experience with my adventures with likely some form of virus might have made him feel better. He had become a stronger runner, and later, he would leave me in the dust. “Where do you get your energy?” I am asked, by another runner. “Well, I am not sure, I do know you have it too, it’s deep inside. You just have to have faith you can do this. Besides, we are nearing the end.” I see my kids and my husband at the Bank Street Bridge. They are cheering and blowing kisses. “Is that your Mom?” my fellow runner asks my cheering section. “Yeah!” they say. “Your Mom is awesome!” “We know!!” The last bit is always blurry. The oxygen isn’t making it to my brain. I am running alone, and I am fighting with myself. I shut out the crowd. I so want this marathon to be over. I so want my real life crisis I find myself in to be over. Some days, all I have is my running. I am tired, yet near the end of what is a training run for something even greater in my life. I suspect my real life marathon will end up being a training of sorts for greater things ahead. I am thrilled to be here with participants who for one day, get to experience life in a way that few people experience. We can all come out knowing that if you run a marathon, you can do anything. This was for you Emilie; an amazing Canadian marathon story, thanks for helping me along.
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