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 ...