Vancouver Half Marathon race day dawned bright and clear.
I realized, too late, that in the midst of feeling the seasoned racer, I hadn’t packed very carefully, having left a few key items behind, including my trusty Ironman watch with its capability of recording splits, which I’ve been ignoring as of late in lieu of my fancy Nike+ pacer/timer/thingy that attaches to my iPod. Perhaps this is the former item’s revenge- absence in time of great need of achieving a PR (Personal Record, the bane and joy of any runner).
What’s more, at the start, I was so discombobbled in my great concern for finding a toilet without a line to rival the morning of Seattle REI’s garage sale queue, that I forgot to take a few things off, namely my warm-ups, and I ended up running overheated with them on over my runner shorts. Ugh. Ah well, at least it wasn’t a Full, and I wouldn’t have to live with the extra annoyance for the better part of a day.
The course wound through beautiful downtown, and then swirled its way through Stanley Park, with views of mountain peaks and more at the top of an extremely steep incline over a half mile stretch. I was dreading the downhills, as those are often tougher, ironically enough, as the downward facing course bangs your quads to shreds, but I was quite pleased at the cheetah-like feeling in my feet.
Because road access into the park is limited, there wasn’t much in the way of spectators, but once we exited the park back into downtown, the bystanders that were there apparently were so baffled by the bizarre lot of us, 5000-strong, who would get up at 4-something in the morning on a Sunday to punish ourselves in this way, all they could do was stand and gawk, with a spattering of feeble clapping here and there. Either that, or Canadians just don’t get riled up over anything save for hockey.
All in all, it was a successful race, even if I missed a PR by a minute thirty. But, hey, give me a break, I was flying blind, all watch-less if you’ll remember. We runners love the numbers: the times, the splits, the miles. But I really enjoyed the freedom from the clock and I was the most focused I’ve ever been.
Photos taken by my loyal friend Mat, who overcame his Canadianness and DID come out and cheer. :) Thanks, friend!
