I Heart Ottawa.

Ottawa can be a miserable city for a runner. I am reminded this morning of a particularly brutal run back in January. I got home from work, spent a good 20 minutes bundling up in insulated spandex, a couple pairs of socks, three shirts, a jacket, a hat, scarf and mitts. It was already dark by the time I got out, and truly frigid. I was gasping in the wind, eyes watering, mascara making my eyelashes stick together. Most of the canal's surface was too precarious, so I gave up and did a few dull circles around residential streets. The moisture from my breath froze onto my scarf, making it crusty and icy and totally useless. The worst part though, was getting back home and realizing that the insulated spandex hadn't been enough. As my splotchy, frozen legs returned to normal temperature, they burned and itched and it felt so awful that I found myself twitching on my yoga mat cursing ... WHY?!

Ottawa Race Weekend, to me, is so special because it's like this collective celebration of our grit. Most have trained through the long winters to make it to the start line. The deep freeze has thawed, the sun is out, the tulips have bloomed, and the city has come back to life. There has been such an energy along the canal for the past couple weeks. Huge Running Room groups, hardcore speedsters, and solo joggers, all reintroducing wintered skin to the light of day and preparing to test themselves in their distance of choice. 

The energy all culminates in a weekend of epic races - some of them 11,000 strong - where we're treated to incredible performances by elite runners from all over the world, and so many stories of adversity overcome. It's one of my favourite times to be part of this city. Until about halfway through my own race, of course.

My goal for my half was to go out at a controlled pace and stick with the 1:30 pace bunny. I was partially successful - I went out a little too hard and never did see that bunny, but I've definitely done worse. I was feeling really strong until about the 10k mark, when I hit a wall. That's really early to hit a wall. My pace fell apart, I started feeling dizzy, and had the overwhelming sense that there was no way I could finish the race. In my desperation, I took a gel (which I never do in training), washed it down with some Gatorade, and hoped for the best.

There was a particularly tough stretch where the heat had picked up, I was still waiting for the effects of my gel to kick in, and I was making my way up a tough incline with jello-y legs. Then I heard a familar voice yelling "go Jackie!" I looked up to see Rachel (sporting a hot new bob!), standing with her husband and two children, cheering me on with a big smile. It was just what I needed. Soon after, the gel kicked in and I got my momentum back. The final 5k was so packed with cheering crowds, including many familiar faces, that it was hard to stay focused on the pain for too long.

In the last 400m of the race, my friend Heather, a former Western teammate who was staying with me for the weekend, passed me. I sprinted to catch up with her, and that pushed me through in under 1:30, and also into a 10th place finish. I had lots of help along the way with this one, for sure.

So I'm feeling pretty motivated for this marathon. We'll see how long it lasts, but for now, I'm riding on the high this city and its good people provided. And by riding, I mean hobbling. Still going to need a couple days off ...

Longer Weekends, Shorter Runs

Tapering for a race is a wonderful thing. Sure, I can scale back my training at any time, but usually there's the little voice telling me I can do more if I really try, so I should push through. But during a taper, you are fully justified in doing exactly what your body tells you. Don't feel like running as far as you'd planned? Stop. Sore muscles? Get a massage. Wee bit tired? Take a nap. Craving McDonalds? Eat McDonalds. Well, maybe there are limits to this strategy's effectiveness. Whatever.

I'm doing the Ottawa Half Marathon a week from today. I ran a half once before, and it was ugly. I went out with a pack, felt strong at first, and then learned very quickly that a half is different from a 5k. My legs seized up, I got dizzy, my mental game fell apart. And then I saw the 4km sign. With some walk breaks, a few frustrated tears, a gel (which I'd never had before, let alone in a race) and a pep talk from a passing friend, I managed to finish the race in 1:44. But I could barely move for a week, and for the first time ever, my knees started giving me trouble. It was tortuous and traumatizing, and I swore I'd never subject myself to another one. But that was five years ago... memories fade.

Anyway, I will worry about race day when it arrives. For now, it's a long weekend, and I need to taper. I can fully relax, enjoy the sun, go for a few breezy runs, and carb-load with beers on patios. Life is good.

 Victoria: we love her because she was born,

and thereby gave us an extra day for 2-4's and cottages.

A few links to share today:

Thanks to the lovely Ken Parker of RunnersWeb for posting about my marathon efforts:

http://www.runnersweb.com/running/rw_news_frameset.html?http://www.runnersweb.com/running/news_2012/rw_news_20120515_Jackie_Bonisteel.html


And, of course, the link to my fundraising page - please help me out if you are able, I'm still a long way from my goal:

http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1429184&langPref=en-CA

The long run

Yesterday morning I ran an hour, tired and more-than-mildly hungover, with a group of friends. The time flew by. This morning, rested and hydrated, I ran two hours by myself. Time was not flying.

I always find long runs challenging, but I find them much tougher when I’m on my own. When I can spend the time chatting and laughing with others, I don’t have time to get into my own head. Which is good, because it’s messy up there.

I have developed multiple mind games to get me through longer solo runs. I divide my run into segments: 3 half hour runs in a row rather than a 90-minute one. Or I use my IPod: 4 songs from now, I’ll be halfway there. I compare: this run is only as long as 5 episodes of Jeopardy, 7 walks to work, one drive to Kingston. I bribe myself: if I make it to two hours, I get a Diet Coke. Chocolate cookies. An episode of the Good Wife. A nap. I divide the run into shorter segments: I just have to get from here to the end of the path, from the end of the path to the museum, now it's just from the bridge to home. I focus on my breathing, my technique, the scenery, baby ducks, other runners doing creative things with Spandex.

But brain can only be fooled for so long. And eventually brain says, for the love of God, why would anyone spend their Sunday morning on this Lord-of-the-Rings-style epic journey around the city? Brain says my hamstrings are tight, I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m hot, I’m getting a sunburn, blisters are forming, thighs are chafing, I have other things to do, and I’m still hungry.

The thing I’m learning about these long runs though, is that they are never all good or all bad. Running shorter distances, I find it’s often all-or-nothing like that. I either feel like I’m flying or shuffling, and I know right away what kind of day it’s going to be. Now, I’ll start off tired and cranky, and then an hour later another gear kicks in, and I’m feeling spectacular. I go from hating the run to being immensely grateful that I’m healthy and fit enough to be out on the path, witnessing the change of seasons, feeling the sun on my face. Then I go back to hating it again.

Today the run started slow and strained, picked up in the middle, and then got tough again. By the end, my stride was strained and my hips were sore … but a few months ago I was feeling that much earlier on. Tangible progress feels good. And now I’ve got my Diet Coke, sleeve of cookies (don’t judge), couch, and Good Wife episode ... and I’m happy as can be.

Why Rachel Is Awesome

I'm running this marathon in honour of my friend Rachel and, in case you were wondering why, read her latest blog post. She is hilarious and awesome:

The Upside of Sick 




If you think she's awesome too, please help me raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada here (shameless plug, I know ... but a shameless plug for a good cause is more palatable, right?) :

http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1429184&langPref=en-CA

This is probably a bad idea.

The first thing you should know is that I am an anti-marathoner. As an avid middle-distance runner, I have long endured comments along these lines:

"Ohhh, you're just doing the 5k? Why don't you challenge yourself and try the marathon?"

This usually leads me into an extended rant about how running a fast 5k is incredibly challenging and painful, how it is, in fact, probably harder than plodding slowly through a marathon, how the training I do requires just as much effort and discipline as marathon training ... etc. Which usually leads to the innocent questioner backing away slowly.

And yet, secretly, the marathon has always scared me. I can barely comprehend the suffering of a 10k going on more than four times as long. I don't even know if my legs can handle that distance without giving out. And maybe my mental stamina has a 10k limit ... I do often want to quit at the 3k mark, but I keep going because the end is in sight. What will I do when I'm already hurting and see the "35km to go" sign?  While I stand behind my opinions on the merits of middle-distance running, they have conveniently shielded me from the inevitable truth: I may be wimping out.

So, on October 14th, I'm going to run my first marathon in San Francisco.

Which brings me to the second thing you should know: hills are my nemesis. I have long legs that serve me well running circles around a track. They are much less helpful for climbing. I have cursed every hill I've ever run, dreaded every cross-country race that involved even slight inclines. San Francisco is flat, right? Ok good.

Anyway, I figured I'll need some serious outside inspiration to get me through a first hill-infested marathon. That wasn't hard to find: one of my running buds, Rachel, was recently diagnosed with leukemia. Not even six months ago I was chasing her up the hills in Gatineau Park, marvelling at how this girl was running crazy fast so soon after giving birth. So until she's hitting the trails with me again, I'm going to do this thing with her in mind. Every time I start complaining about how far I have to go, how many hills I have to climb, I will be picturing Rachel, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, saying: "Really Jackie? You're going to complain about a hill? I could run that in my sleep and I have CANCER."

I'm running for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada's Team in Training, and I've set a fundraising goal of $5000. That's a lot of money, and attempting to raise it scares me almost as much as the marathon. I would truly appreciate your support. And please keep following me as I document (ie rant about) my attempt at this ridiculous, unnecessary pursuit.

This is my fundraising page: http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1429184&langPref=en-CA