Ottawa Fall Colours 5k, Oct. 11: My only race this year!

The past year certainly has been fraught with injury.

Hip pain = no running = no marathons = no triathlons

Sigh ... I'd even taken a good three months completely off running which helped a bit, then started running again lightly in late July hoping to be able to enjoy some part of the racing season before it was over.

Thought I'd race a Half Ironman in Ottawa in August, then thought I'd settle for the Sprint Tri because of my lack of training and the fact that my bum hip was still fragile. Nope, didn't end up racing at all ... As the Gods would have it, I had a film shoot the day before race day AND my friend's baby came early, meaning that staying at his house would have been pandemonium!

Then I thought about running the Ottawa Fall Colours 5k and encouraged my friend RB to do his very first race ever at the same time. I hate 5k's but for a friend, I was willing to tough it out.

We drove up bright and early to Ottawa from Montreal. My kids weren't too happy when I woke them at 5am, well, when I *tried* to wake them up that is. (I wasn't happy getting up at 4:50am either.) I told them they could sleep in the car. And sleep they did. We let them continue sleeping in the car in the parking lot as we went to pick up our race kits and I registered my youngest son for his race.

It was a beautiful day, a little cloudy but sunny nonetheless. But boy was it frigid! BRRRR! The morning temperature was down close to freezing and the sharp wind pierced our many layers of clothing. We were happy to get back into the car and await the start of the race.




This cosy little race was well-organised and very friendly. The 10k racers completed a loop around the field before heading out of the park and then it was our turn to line up. Where was the start line? RB and I just went with it and stood anywhere. I bid farewell to my son GMH whose race start would come up after we finished running our loop in the park.

The thing I hate about 5k races is the fast start, and then unfortunately, it usually only gets faster.

RB was pumped with adrenalin, this being his first race and all, and sped ahead of me, though I think he thought he was running beside me. I, on the other hand, had absolutely no surge of adrenalin coursing through my body but only wished I did, since I think it would have helped me to overcome the sudden tightness in my lungs due to the cold air rushing in quickly. Damn asthma!

I've never been good at fast starts and tend to get faster only after a few kilometers of warming up, then I'm usually good to go for another 15 or more km! Ha ha!

Nope, 5k races are not my favourite ... Don't let the smile on my face fool you. I'm only posting the good pic, the pic where I'm aware of the photographer, not the candid pics caught of me grimacing from not being able to breathe.

I told RB to go ahead, since clearly his legs and lungs were ready to take him much faster than I. Great, more pressure on me to keep up. Course was quite pretty as it wound through the quiet neighbourhood and semi-countryside. Two good little hills which I creeped up slowly ... Are we almost done? Geez, I don't remember marathon runs being this arduous. Then back into the park we went for the last loop, and lo and behold, finally, the Finish Line! Yay!

My results:

Gun time 29:42
Pace 5:57
Category place 5/23
Gender place 44/188
Overall place 127/315

RB's results:

Gun time 29:42
Pace 5:57
Category place 9/13
Gender place 83/127
Overall place 126/315

Hmmm ... There must have been some walkers since we weren't running that quickly.

My younger son decided to run the 3k, though when he was 7, he ran the 5k with me in 37:16 totally untrained. I was able to convince him to run this time since there was a medal at the end :-D Like mother, like son! GMH didn't want to wear run-specific clothes though so he ran it with his clunky sneakers, big jacket and jeans. Oh, and of course, my race gloves since he got cold waiting for the race to start. What can a Mom do?

GMH's results:

Gun time 17:03
Gender placement 28/37
Overall placement 28/63



Of course, we had to celebrate with food afterwards ... yummy Italian in the Byward Market. Ottawa is truly a beautiful little city!

Ironman Louisville - August 31, 2008

It had been over two weeks since my collision and I thought I was alright ... But this particular day while driving to a friend's, a dark mini-van cut suddenly into my lane and I felt overwhelmed with emotion.

And then the tears finally flowed.

My recent accident with a similar van flashed through my mind and I finally understood what I had just gone through.

I hadn't had the time to digest all that had happened since my bike collision in Toronto, four days before my big race. I had just arrived in Toronto after a six-hour drive from Montreal and had met up with my roadie friend, Zute, for a training ride before supper.

Only a kilometer from our start point, an irresponsible driver passed us both, then without looking, turned suddenly into a parking lot, hitting Zute on his left side while I collided abruptly into the back of her vehicle, denting it. And as my bike ricocheted backwards, my body flew like a projectile over my handlebars and I whacked my face and shoulder hard into the van's back door.

In that split second as I felt my neck snap back brusquely, I saw my Ironman race fizzle. Hurting my neck again was definitely a bad thing as it had not yet healed from my 2006 car accident (pics here) for which I was still in physio. Sitting there after the accident by the side of the road, gripping my neck, all I could think was, "Would I be able to race?" and then, "Is my bike okay?"

Zute wiped the blood off my face and leg, and spoke calmly with the woman, instinctively not letting me do the talking as he sensed how much I would have screamed at her at the top of my lungs for her stupidity and negligence. She could have killed us both!! How could she have not seen TWO cyclists!?!?

The rest of the evening was spent trying to normalize, as my mother was expecting us to take her out for supper and there was no way I wanted her to know what happened. Besides, I didn't want an overnight wait in a crowded emergency room with the hassle of out-of-province medical coverage when I had an early start and a 12-hour drive planned the next day.

I told myself, rest and sleep, that's all I needed. The long drive followed by a bike collision did not make for a peaceful day.

"I HAD to be alright."

I had no time or energy to digest the accident. I was racing. The days before and after my race were a complete blur ... 36 hours of driving alone to and from the race, the crash into the mini-van, dealing with the injuries, obtaining a bike, the complicated race prep, trying to squeeze in a bit of training, Race Day, taking care of my mother, then finally, dealing with the enormous amount of red tape (police, insurance companies, health care professionals, etc.)

And through my delayed tears, I realised that I was lucky not to have done more damage to my neck and back, or to not have landed on my head and suffered another concussion.

So now I am finally writing this race report, still healing from injuries, still sorting out red tape, still not ever planning to tell my mother about the accident (cause she would freak!) ... but one Ironman race richer in my life experience, feeling even more awake to the power of the mind.

I've reached an "enlightenment", a sublime understanding of the workings of the mind and of the body and how everything in life is intertwined. Through this all, I've somehow made a quantum leap in wisdom gained and a peaceful understanding of "letting go" and "life goes on".

It's hard to explain this epiphany to you without giving you more details, but let's just say, it's been a tough year. This Ironman race, dedicated to my mother who is dying of cancer and the reason I pushed on to finish albeit the injuries, was symbolic of the end of a journey and the fresh exciting beginning of another ...

******************************************************************

I am admittedly an undisciplined, imperfect athlete, with an artsy soul that is easily distracted. Training schedule, what dat? I trained horribly and entirely inconsistently, not doing the necessary miles, no, not even half of them, convinced that my one long run of 30k and my one long lake swim of 6k would get me by (had to wrap my mind around some distance, you know!) Long ride? Nope, but I'd done some tough hills ... I cheated my training with short swims, rides and runs, perhaps enough to scrape by for an Olympic distance, but who was I kidding?

Not an accident or insufficient training could make me DNS (did not start). I had too much riding on this race:

- I had already paid for the race entry and hotel
- Through the charity group I created, Operation Triumph, many people had sponsored me with donations to the Canadian Cancer Society
- I was racing in honour of my mother who's been so strong throughout her cancer. Now it was my turn to be strong ...

I told myself, "What will be, will be. I will finish."


Race Day Morning, August 31

When Mike, a fellow triathlete, called at 4:30 am, I was already wide awake. I lay in bed another 10 minutes and visualised the race and my transitions.

Breakfast consisted of a small bowl of Oatmeal Crisp Almond cereal, a few pieces of honeydew melon, a banana, and a cup of tea. I wasn't very hungry though as my stomach felt off. I was relieved when #2 finally happened ... so important on race day ... yay!

I rushed to the transition area to finish settling in my stuff, check in my special needs bags, and check over my bike. My nerves felt raw and the multitude of details to take care of felt overwhelming.

Yesterday, fifteen minutes into a short test ride, my bike flatted. After changing the tube, the tire rubbed against the frame, and not knowing how to fix this and needing to check my bike in before the cut-off time, I realised I had no choice but to have it looked at race morning. The bike tech guys made some adjustments and pumped up my tires. All clear! I scurried to rack my bike as transition was closing.

I'd forgotten that the swim start was a mile away and nervously set out on the walk, trying to calm myself down by chit chatting with the other athletes. My inability to locate the body markers only added to my pre-race anxiety and even the volunteer I asked didn't know where they were. But then I found them, grouped together haphazardly on a non-designated spot with no signs pointing them out.

[Warning: TMI] All endurance athletes are happy to do #2 before the race start, as it is quite unpleasant to get sick during the race, but c'mon, four times?!?! My stomach was definitely off and I was not a happy camper!!

Mike and I unfortunately ended up at the back of the "second" line and in fact, for a while, I was the last person. We cracked jokes and shared stories and this helped to lighten my nervousness. I was real happy though when the line started moving quicker and eventually others who had made last minute potty trips had to rejoin the line after us ... Now Mike and I were only almost last! There were now about ten people behind us!

If I ever do this race again, remind me to write to the race director to ask that they clear the path of all those sharp little pebbles.


The Swim


The race start is a time trial start and after passing the timing mat, each athlete jumps or dives into the water. It took about 52 minutes for Mike and I to get to the swim start. I learned to swim less than three years ago and because deep down, I am still afraid of water, jumping into water is very difficult. But here, I had no choice. That's me, second in line from the right, jumping hesitantly into the water. Mike was already away and swimming.


Down I went into the water ... and before I could surface, someone jumped in on top of me and kicked my head.

Fantastic start. Yeah.

I was happy to make it back up the surface without drowning and after taking a pause to refocus, started the swim upstream. Slow and easy ... long strokes ... be as efficient as possible. It was not long though before I noticed the uneveness of my stroke. Even with frequent sighting, I had trouble keeping a straight course.

Old left arm injury from my 2006 car accident + new shoulder/lat injury from recent collision = annoying veer to the right

To top it off, my too tight swim cap kept slipping off, forcing me to stop repeatedly to readjust it along with my goggles. Also annoying was the huge air bubble trapped inside my cap, a result of not being able to squeeze it out after the jump start.

I quickly realised that starting extreme BOP (back of pack) while swimming against the current was quite disheartening, but I tried to not let this get to me.
Long, efficient strokes ... long, efficient strokes.

I made it past the little island and into the open water where the current got stronger. Though it seemed to take forever to reach the red buoy that signaled the turn-around point, it was uplifting to know that it took some of the other swimmers even longer ... and I happily started passing people.

The opaqueness of the water was strange ... no sunlight penetrated the super polluted Ohio River. And surprisingly, though the swimmers were spaced out much more so than in a mass start, I ended up whacking a few people that I came upon suddenly due to zero visibility in the water. Oops, sorry!

I doubt that the down-current after the turn-around point improved my swim time as I zig-zagged all over the place. I was happy to finally reach the metal stairs that marked the end of the swim leg as I had accomplished what I had set out to do ... a relaxed, centered, peaceful and energy-efficient swim.

I knew I had a lot more race to go!


Transition, though not super fast, felt pretty smooth ... until I took my bike off the rack and wheeled it over to the bike start. My tire was once again rubbing the frame, and crossing the timing mat out of transition, I shouted to a volunteer, "Where's bike tech?"

I was sent back into the transition area where I had to find a mechanic to take care of my problem. He checked over my bike, took the wheel off, then ran off to grab some tools. While waiting, I cracked jokes to spectators and ate half a granola bar. What the heck, I had time to relax ... Turned out that it was the set pins and once recalibrated, the wheel went back on, and off I went, again over the transition out timing mat.

Finally, I got to ride!

Swim 1:36:56 (2:33/100m)

Rank after swim: overall 1624/1975, Division 62/82

T1: Swim-to-bike 7:20


The Bike

The first part of the bike course was flat, so no problems there. The aero position seemed alright and I was able to get up to speed pretty quickly until I found a pace that was comfortable. The thought hit me ... "Wow, I'm on a new bike, I wonder how it's going to go!" and I felt all excited.

Then I arrived at the hilly section, La Grange. I'd never climbed even one hill with Ingrid, my new tri bike. The shifters were in a whole new position, on my aerobars, as opposed to my old racing bike, which were on the downtube. In fact, there was lots different about this new bike, besides the much lighter weight. Ingrid had a different geometry which meant that I'd be using my muscles differently. The 650 wheels made for tighter handling and a much different feel to the steering. Even managing the water bottles had changed as I now had two behind me. This was a mighty sharp learning curve to manage.

So, as I headed into La Grange, I realised that this part of the race would not be easy, especially with the head and cross-winds. With the climbs and descents, I had to concentrate on shifting correctly and often, ended up in the wrong gear at the wrong time since I was not yet used to the new shifters or their nuances. My chain dropped twice while climbing, probably from shifting too quickly, as I was still unfamiliar with the timing. Getting back on a bike mid-hill is not easy to do, and I was forced to walk up a particularly steep hill after putting my chain back on.


Somehow, the hills seemed so much smaller the day before while checking out the bike course with Mike and his wonderful parents, Johnie and Brenda, in their air-conditioned mini-van. But today, in the 95F/35C heat (104F/40C factoring in the 80% humidity), with cloudless skies giving us no reprieve from the blazing sun, combined with the winds ... these "gentle rolling hills" felt HUMUNGOUS to me.

I passed a stretch of La Grange where a local festival was taking place. Cheering spectators lined the road and I felt a surge of disbelief, emotion and pride.

"Oh my God, I'm doing an Ironman!"

I thought about my mother and how much I loved her. The tears started rolling down my face but I wiped them away quickly as I wouldn't be able to finish if I kept crying. I was on a mission.
I took advantage of every aid station and stopped to fill up with water since I didn't want to crash while doing the "bottle grab". Several times, I downed complete bottles before moving on because of my extreme thirst.

I immensely regretted eating the other half of my granola bar before I hit the hills as it made me extremely nauseous. Regurgitating repeatedly only intensified my queasiness. I would have rather vomited! I'd never had GI (gastro-intestinal) issues this bad ever in a race before. I could no longer stomach the E-Load sport drink that I'd been consuming ... my stomach had shut down and I resorted to water, gels and salt capsules for the remainder of the race. I was ecstatic to finally feel some wind on my back and pick up speed ... whoohoo!

My new thrill didn't last too long though, only until the start of the second La Grange loop, where that horrible head-wind made me drop down again to 17 km/h. Something about repeating this loop and confusing signage combined with fatigue and disorientation tricked me for a few moments into thinking that I was closer to finishing the bike leg than I really was. My brain hurt from trying to calculate the distance travelled, as my odometer was incorrect, having not yet been recalibrated to the new wheel size. I asked a cyclist while passing him what his odometer read. AGH!!! The desperation of my reality set in.

I'd not gone 90 miles. I'd only gone 60 miles. Damned double signage. I still had almost halfway to go. I'm almost ashamed to admit that 57 miles/92 km was the farthest I'd gone during a training ride this summer, and that was in early July. I had now surpassed that. Could I trust my body to go another 52 miles? I had no choice.

I finally reached the special needs station and was happy to pick up my other gels as I had run out. I pulled the granola bars out of my back pockets and handed them with the bars still in my special needs bag back to the volunteer. "Can you throw these away? I can't eat them."

Then off I went again, up and down the hills. The cycling became increasingly difficult as it became clearer that I was on an untested new bike and didn't have the mileage in my legs. What a way to inaugurate Ingrid, my new bike ... with a 112 mile/180 km Ironman ride ... LOL!!

A late swim start coupled with a late bike start served only to add to the isolation I felt on the bike course. The second loop was almost void of spectators. A mere scattering were left and often, the only people I saw were cyclists I passed or exhausted bodies lying on the side of the road waiting for medical aid.

My female nether regions were on *fire* albeit the BodyGlide and I didn't want to stop to fiddle with my seat. The damage had been done and an aero position was no longer possible except for the downhills where I could lift myself off my seat a bit. The new bike geometry worked my muscles differently and my IT bands now pulled painfully on my kneecaps like sharp stabbing knives.

What hurt more though than my knees and my private parts were my neck and upper back. The extent of my injury from my recent collision into the back of the mini-van became painfully obvious. Because of possible danger to the kidneys and risk of dehydration/hyponaetremia, I had stopped taking NSAIDs that morning to relieve the inflammation and was now in searing pain. I could not hold my body forward for very long and resorted to holding the arm rests with my hands to stay as upright as possible.

"Free speed, free speed" became my new mantra as I rode down the hills as aero as possible, hoping to pick up enough speed to to take me up the following hills. Coasting was essential for me at this point and allowed me to recuperate, relieving some of the pain in my knees. The miles passed and I concentrated on "lessening the pain", wondering how I'd ever make it to the bike finish. And though the last segment of the bike course is a net downhill, my painful knees, forced still to pedal, did not feel this advantage.

I only made one toilet stop, after 7 hours of riding. Like most on the bike leg, I was dehydrated but happy that I hadn't passed out like so many others. Thoroughly exhausted, the scorching heat was even more evident.

With great relief, I arrived at the bike finish and the kind volunteer took my bike away. I started running down the transition chute but my legs felt horrible. Thinking it was due to my shoes, I stopped to take them off. NO, Running in bare feet did NOT make my legs feel any better. I called out my number to the volunteers and a very pretty, cheerful girl passed me my transition bag.

"You're Bonnie, right? I'm Katie, Tithers' friend, and she told me to watch out for you. I'm so happy that I'm the one to give you your bag."

I was happy too! Tithers and Katie, you rock!

Then into the tent I went to change into my run clothes at a snail's pace. I saw a lady sprawled across the chairs and a volunteer went to ask if she was alright. I didn't want to be like her so took care to stay relaxed and focused. The change tent floor was extremely muddy since the ground had not dried out after the swim-bike transition. I had not packed a towel, so I wiped my muddy feet with my bike clothes. Hmm ... did I really want to put on those running shoes?

In the still blazing sun and heavy heat, I walked out of transition and drank some water.

How was I going to get through this marathon?

Bike 7:42:47 (14.52 mph)

Rank after bike: overall 1714/1975, division 64/82

First Bike Segment 22.5 mi (1:30:25) 14.93 mph
Second Bike Segment 21.4 mi (1:36:47) 13.27 mph
Third Bike Segment 30.5 mi (2:10:47) 13.99 mph
Final Bike Segment 37 mi (2:24:48) 15.33 mph

T2: Bike-to-run 13:17


The Run

I heard a voice, "Hello" ... and then an elderly gentleman and I teamed up. We decided to walk for a bit but as we passed the first camera, we started running and laughing, saying we couldn't be caught NOT running by the camera.


Then back to walking, and by the time we got to the bridge a little distance away, my new tri friend was ready to run. But I wasn't since it was uphill. I told him that I'd only start on the downhill coming back. By the time we got to the turn-around point on the bridge, my new-found running mate wanted to run off so I wished him well. I had reached the downhill part but my legs didn't seem to want to start running. Feeling horribly exhausted, I seriously pondered if I'd make the cut-off time of 17 hours if I walked the entire marathon.

Another camera opportunity forced me to run again ... great shot! And then out of fear of not finishing in time, I tried to keep running after that ... Note the IT band support on my left knee.


I gave myself two rules:

1) No running on downhills or steep uphills.
2) No running in expansive sunny areas. Wait for the sun to go down a bit.

I thought it was better to play it wise and be able to finish rather than be picked up by an ambulance, which I was starting to see more frequently.

I was on my first loop when the sun's intensity started to lessen and my running became more consistent, now with few walking breaks. The temperature as the sun started going down was still 90F/32C, only a few degrees cooler than when I'd started.

I walked through every aid station and grabbed water, rationing the few gels that I had with me throughout the course. I would have drank more chicken stock had they not run out so soon ... that's THE BEST during a race! Because of my GI issues, I drank only a few sips of the sport drink offered and totally refrained from drinking any cola. Bizarre, whereas on the bike leg, I did not need to pee, after the first part of the marathon, I needed to pee almost every aid station! What was going on?!

The heat was intense. I continued my death shuffle and concentrated on moving forward, distracting myself from my pain and fatigue by watching the other runners. Having only one IT band support, I now switched it over to my more painful right knee. The few attempts I made at my usual run form dismally failed as sharp pains shot into my knees with each strike of my foot on the asphalt.

The neighbourhood was quaint and its prettiness was a nice contrast to our suffering, as was the out-and-back set-up of this race course. Someone shouted out my name ... it was Mike, and I turned my head quickly to see him heading in the opposite direction, catching only a glimpse of his face. He looked in fine running form ... or so I thought (found out later that he had had a bad bike crash and needed stiches!)

I finally reached the turn-around point and knew I'd soon be hitting 13.1 miles. What? No timing mat? No balloons or archway? ... Hmm, no special marker indicating the half-marathon point, what a let-down. So I estimated my time and this sadly told me I had at least another three hours to go if I continued at this pace.

ANOTHER THREE HOURS!!!

I concentrated on moving one foot ahead of the other and somehow, the miles wore on. There were more and more spectators and I realised that I was almost finished the first loop! How excited I felt as I approached the Finish Line the "first time" ... yes, so close and yet so far! The spectators screamed, "You're almost done, just down the road!" and I screamed back, "I still have one more loop to go."

Good thing about seeing the actual finish line was feeling and hearing the excitement of the crowd, music and runners. Bad thing about seeing the actual finish line was feeling and hearing the excitement of the crowd, music and runners and not actually finishing.

I turned the corner right before heading down the brightly-lit finisher's chute ... Another loop to go! Yay! (Not)

So I ran and ran and ran and ran and somehow, at some point, it all started blending together and became surreal. I had found a peaceful place in my head that somehow knew what to do with the pain and exhaustion, that somehow knew how to keep my body moving forward past the aid stations and past the mile markers.

I passed the turn-around a second time. I passed countless other runners. I heard the ambulances and saw bodies lying on the sides of the street and pressed forward, knowing that I did not want to join them.

Then somehow, I'd arrived again at the "Start to the Finish" and I felt the excitement of the last few miles ... I was almost HOME and my commitment would be fulfilled. The crowd became denser, the music and the cheers grew louder, the runners picked up their pace ... I knew what was coming and I excitedly ran a bit faster.

And then there it was, the finisher's chute. A spectator shouted to the man running slowly just ahead of me. "C'mon, you can run faster than that! You're at the finish!" Dang, the man picked up his pace to match mine just as I was about to pass him.

There was NO WAY I wanted to share my finishing photo with this other racer, so I kicked in everything that I had left, lifted my painful knees and sprinted past him down the finisher's chute high-fiving as many people as possible.

There was the Finish Line ... but where was the finish line tape? Where was the announcement, "Bonnie Mak, you are an Ironman!"

I'd only visualised finishing with the broken finish line tape held high in glory above my head. What to do, what to do ... I had no Plan B, doh! So I said, "Give me air beneath my feet," and I charged hard over the Finish Line, completely exhausted, but emotionally elated.

Run 6:09:12 (14:05/mile)

First run segment 4 mi. (1:01:23) 15:20/mile
Second run segment 4.3 mi. (56:58) 13:14/mile
Third run segment 4.15 mi. (1:02:25) 15:02/mile
Fourth run segment 3.5 mi. (49:05) 14:01/mile
Fifth run segment 4.3 mi. (57:12) 13:18/mile
Sixth run segment 4.15 mi. (59:18) 14:17/mile
Final run segment 1.8 mi. (22:51) 12:41/mile

Extrapolating, I get a negative split of 10 minutes, woohoo!:

1-13.1 miles 3:09:57
13.1-26.2 miles 2:59:55



Finish (chip time) 15:49:30

Overall 1567/1975 * I moved up from my rank of 1714 after the bike!

Division 64/82

Only 1768 athletes finished under 17:00. 207 did not make the cut-off. That's 10.5%!


I was happy to see Johnie waiting for me at the finish ... nothing like being greeted with a loving smiling face! He told me about Mike's unfortunate crash but made sure to get me to the post-race area where I could grab my clothes bag and get some grub. Then he headed off to meet Mike at the hospital. Thanks, Johnie! You're a sweetheart!

After a quick massage to my IT bands and shins, I caught a lift back to the transition area with a woman I met in the swim line. No way with my sore feet and aching muscles would I have been able to walk that mile or so.

Dear IMKY Race Director,

For future races, I recommend that bike and race gear pick-up from the transition area NOT be mandatory immediately post-race. It would have been easier to just hop into my car and go back to the hotel.

Sincerely yours,

Bonnie
Exhausted athlete all by her lonesome

So ... I dragged all my bags and rolled my bike to the far end of the parking lot. Managing somehow to load it all into my car, I then drove over the bridge back to my hotel. After showering and eating something more substantial (I can't eat much right after racing), popping some pills, and of course calling a few worried friends, I finally crawled into bed at 3:00 am, 22 1/2 hours after I'd awoken.

Another day, another Ironman. Cool. So utterly cool.

Oka Sprint Tri - June 8, 2008

Let's make things clear ... This race totally SUCKED. But I'm glad I did it since I got to open water swim and practice my transitions.

Basically, I was totally unprepared, both physically and mentally. I'd been through a hectic rehearsal schedule during a month and a half for my play Import/Export that had been all over the place, morning, afternoon, and evenings, with especially long hours the week before our performances of 11-12 hours/day.

In that last week of rehearsal, I barely managed over 100k of cycling, all on my mountain bike, since Freida, my road bike was in the shop getting fitted with a compact crank. On my one day off from rehearsal in that last week, I had to catch up on everything and could only fit in a short swim of 1000 m. I was happy the day before our opening when we only had an evening rehearsal of 5 hours, leaving me with enough time to get in a long swim of 3050 m. No time to run though that week and certainly no bricks!

The show went fantastically well. There was lots of celebrating and spending time with friends too, nevermind the constant going over lines. And I even got to do an interview for CKUT, McGill's cool alternative radio station. Hectic, challenging week ... but it was well worth it. The play was well-received and overall, I was happy with my performances. I've been very lucky to be part of such a wonderful production and cast.

Monday - Wednesday
A big NADA for training. Play opening and performances were just too intense and draining ...

Thursday
I finally got my bike back and lacking time since I had my last performance that evening, I checked out my new crank with a short 14k cycle. Oh, shifting was difficult! I'd need the gears realigned, that's for sure!

Friday
I visited my LBS then got in a 46k ride ... woohoo! Followed right away by a short 20 min. run, just to see how it felt in the legs. Ugh.

Saturday
After swing dancing for a few hours by the river in the hot and humid weather, I slipped in a short half hour swim. I made sure to hydrate myself well that day with E-load.

200 m warm-up
750 continuous swim with practising sighting
4 x 50m (25m fast, 25m slow)
100 m slow cool

Total swim = 1250m.


Sunday - Race day

Needless to say, I did not get much rest that week, and not even the two night prior to the race. I was shamelessly still up past midnight looking for my wetsuit, which I have not seen since Ironman 2006. I finally found it packed away in an empty suitcase in my living room closet.

Got four hours of restless sleep. Woke up at 5:15 am. Had some tea and tried to stomach a banana and some oatmeal. My friend AJ arrived to accompany me. I answered the door and the first thing I told him was how sick to my stomach I was felt and how difficult it was to eat.

We loaded up my car and drove out to Oka, a beautiful provincial park, and arrived at 7:15 am. We started walking to the registration area but I had to double back as we realised that there were no port-o-lets beside the race site, that one had to walk over to the beach chalet. That was a bummer since my nervous stomach had me visiting that chalet every 15 min.

Nutrition
Two electrolyte tablets
E-load, lots of it ... big bottle on bike and even bigger bottle to drink at transition
Two gels, one eaten before the swim, another before the run

Clothing
A one-piece tri-suit that looks like a bathing suit but is actually quite comfortable and perfect for the day's hot and humid 29C, 38C humidex weather (yes, that's 100F!). Hey, it was free ... a friend had given it to me!

Here I am setting up at transition. I had used that red blanket to keep me warm for the first 15 min. after arrival as I had forgotten my jacket ... but I didn't need it for long since the day started to heat quickly, in fact, too quickly.

I realised I'd forgotten how to put on a wetsuit ... I've only used it twice! Once for my IM two years back and the first time, the week before that race to check it out and practice some OW swimming.

Alright, I finally figured out how to put it on but I'd forgotten how tight it felt, or was it just the extra ten pounds I'd put on since IM? Ugh.

The swim was way more difficult than I could have ever imagined. MUCH harder than my IM swim, which was kinda relaxing actually.

The swim started badly ... we weren't a big group so only had two waves. But the race was so badly coordinated that the first wave didn't even know the gun had gone off. The officials had to restart. My wave started two minutes afterwards and though I was already at the back, the one person behind me swam over me almost immediately.

I told myself, I can handle that! During my IM, I'd been hit and kicked, so this didn't phase me. Not even the cold water on my face and hands and feet phased me. What did phase me was the incessant current bringing me back to the shore or some other direction in which I was not wanting to go. My sighting became useless.

During the entire swim, not for one second could I feel that familiar and soothing water-rushing-past-my-body-feeling and this made me panic. I did not feel any forward motion at all, but just a bobbing of my body as I struggled to sight and breathe. My heart would not calm down and beat too quickly during the entire swim and I never managed to catch my breath properly. I swallowed lots of water, and even had to tread water a few times to fix my goggles (never EVER wear a new type of goggles at a race!) or just take a long slow breath. I couldn't figure out which side to breathe as I seemed to be hit by a wave no matter which side I turned my face.

I don't have much open water swimming experience, but folks, this was one time that I felt I was just barely hanging on ... My mind swirled with thoughts of DNF'ing and even of drowning. I had choked and coughed so hard at one point that another swimmer stopped to ask me if I was alright. Certainly the girl on the surf board ahead of me wasn't going to help and due to the lack of organization of this race, I doubt there was anyone behind me.

I concentrated hard and tried to be as calm and efficient as possible just to be able to finish the swim leg, and though I know I swam all over the place and that my sighting was ineffective to keep me on course, I finally managed to crawl up on the beach. Then I had the trek up past the beach and through the woods to the transition area. I'd made it through the first part. Thank God.

27:27 including the run to transition. My 750m usually takes me 15-16 min. This swim was pure hell. And I was not the last out of the water.

This was the first time during a race I had to get that wetsuit off by myself. Fine and dandy slipping it off the shoulders and down off the body. How does one get it off the ankles? I had ankel zippers and I still struggled.

Getting onto my bike was alright, though I felt dizzy and almost toppled over a few times, as you see in this pic of me losing my balance. Funny ... while I was getting body marked, I asked the volunteer which one was the better choice - bug spray or sunscreen. He promptly killed two flies that zoomed around in between our faces. Alright, I chose the bug spray. But now at T1, I'd realised that the bug spray had "erased" my numbers. At least I had my bib number and timing chip!

The bike course was tooted as a flat course, closed to traffic. Two loops. Flat and closed to traffic, my ass! I don't call rolling hills flat at all. I hit 59 km/h (37 miles/h) on one downhill and would have gone faster had I had the incentive to power down harder.

In general, yes, this course was closed to traffic ... outside the park. Inside the park was a whole other matter. I totally loved how the volunteer let the mini-van turn ahead of me. I went from 32 km/h to 5 km/h in a split second and was forced onto the gravel shoulder to avoid hitting that mini-van and the racer who was walking his bike back to the transition zone.

54:27 including T1 and T2. My bike computer said just over 21 km (???) Not very fast, but heck, I hadn't been riding much recently and I hadn't even practiced transitioning in training. When I had set up my plastic container of water for feet rinsing before the race, I somehow knew I'd knock it over. And of course, arriving at T2, I promptly did so and soaked my foot thoroughly. I'm happy with my compact crank though ... sure made those climbs faster. It felt good to pass some cyclists though I think they were the duathletes. Whatever!

The run was a little difficult since it changed directions several times, but pretty since it took us through some trails in the woods. I was glad that we were in the shade for most of it, but not very happy when they'd ran out of water. I finally got some at the turn-around at 2.5 km. On the way back, I almost got lost since there were no arrows indicating where to go ... all I could see were blank backs of signs and too many path choices.

One major thing that I learned in a bad way ... I will never ever run without socks again. Major blisters developed by the 2k point and I suffered in agony until the end. All to save a few seconds at T2 ... sigh.

Here I am coming down final stretch, sooo happy that my ordeal was OVER!

Final time: 1:53:35. Ugh. This was sooo much slower than my first tri when I even did an extra bike loop. Oh well. I finished. My back was beet red from being sunburnt but I didn't have one bug bite.

Monday after the race
Yesterday, I did as much of nothing as possible. No rehearsal, no laundry, no training, no performances, no socializing, no charity work. It felt good to relax. Actually, I did try to get out for a short swim that evening but the pool had changed its schedule and was closed. So I did some grocery shopping ... finally.

I came in DEAD LAST !!!

Saturday's training:
Bike - 50 km, wasn't supposed to be that much but I, um got carried away ...

Run - after the biking, I mixed together a banana bread and stuck it in the oven, then went for a short half hour jaunt in the neighbourhood

Swim - finally got to Magog around 6:45 pm after packing all my gear and food and doing some maintenance on my bike. First time I ever degreased and cleaned my bike by myself. My hands got all black and of course, even today, I still have black around my nails. Good thing I'm not a girly-girl or this would freak me out ... I picked up my athlete's bag from the big tent on the race site then ran into another athlete from the YMCA. We went for a dip in Lake Memphremagog. Neither of us are used to open water swimming so it was a real adventure. So many weeds! And so much gunk on the lake floor, including old shoes and long pipes. I ended up swimming 40 min. and practised my sighting.

Total training = just over 3 hours
------------------------------------------------

The Race - Magog Half Ironman
2 km swim, 90 km bike, 21.1 km run

Was nervous as heck the night before, so much so that when I eventually got around to eating and preparing my bags for the race, it was past midnight before I lay down on my bed. No go ... tossed and turned all night trying desperately to fall asleep. I got up to go to the bathroom before 5 am and my friend DR called me from Montreal to wake me. (Thanks DR!!) Then the alarm went off. My roomie, D., who was doing the sprint triathlon got up with me. She had fortunately slept like a log. Good, she'll be rested enough for both of us.

What a cold morning! We put on the heat in the car and covered our legs with my kids' little polar blankies. We arrived at the race site and I set up my bike, towel and gear, then checked my tires. All I kept thinking was ... am I doing this right? Transition is still a foreign language to me.

The Swim Leg

- We all got into the water, no wetsuits allowed, and I waited for the start at the back of the pack. I got more and more nervous as the minutes then seconds ticked down. I high-fived another athlete and wished him luck just as the start was called. Bad thing about racing is that once you start, you can't stop until you finish.

- I couldn't believe how fast they all went off. At first, I followed in their bubbles, then was quickly left all by my lonesome. Good thing about being the slowest swimmer is that if I started drowning, aid was immediate since the volunteers kayaked very close to me. Great for safety but a little embarrassing for my weak swimmer morale.

- I tried to sight every 3 - 9 strokes, but found it tough to keep on course, which was an out-and-back on one arm of a triangle followed by a complete lap of the triangle. Let me tell you, that lake current can sure carry someone far in a few seconds, as I found out unfortunately with lots of zig-zagging. Race was 2km. I probably swam a good 300-400 m more.

- I heard the start of the Elite Sprint Triathlon. Great ... these swimmers were even faster than the pack with which I started and while swimming the last arm of the triangle, I was quickly enveloped with arms and legs and torsos as the pack quickly passed me at their phenomonal pace, but I kept my cool.

- I swam until my arms stroked the sandy bottom then stood up and *tried* to run through the water then up the stairs to the path that would take me to the transition area. Whew, I made it and didn't drown, and I didn't feel tired.

The Bike Leg

- When I got to the transition area, there were only two bikes there, but I don't remember anyone behind me in the swim ... hmmm ... a DNF?

- I tried the nifty trick of rinsing my feet in a container of water. A #1. I wore a tri-suit that resembles a bathing suit, but with some padding in the crotch. Never rode such a long distance wearing this, but figured with enough BodyGlide on, I wouldn't chaffe. Off I went onto the course and promptly realised that I'd forgotten my cycling gloves.

- I never knew Magog was so hilly. Nary a flat to be seen because the short segments that seemed flat were all false flats that soon become a hill. This was an out-and-back course and while it's great to bomb down hills at 55 - 75 km/h, I realised that I would have to climb up them on the way back. Took it easy though to not mash my legs ... relaxed and climbed slowly knowing that this was just a long training day in sight of the Bigger Prize (IM Canada).

- It was a little unnerving having two police motorcycle escorts for a while, especially when I had to climb some of the longer hills and I'd be as slow as 10 or 11/km closer to the top. I could hear their motors revving slower and slower, almost taunting me ...

- I was so happy to finally approach the end of the bike leg but didn't remember that I had to stop and dismount before the line and ended up doing this about two feet past the line ... The officials blew their whistle and I said I didn't know. They made me lift my bike up in the air as a penalty (don't ask me why). Alright, next stage ... run 21.1 km. Yeah, great. I could feel the hot sun bearing down on me ...

The Run Leg

- When I got to my transition area, an official told me to run around the cone before heading out to the run leg. I said I had to go to the bathroom but he kept telling me to run around that cone. Sheesh! So I ran around the cone to appease him just so that I could finish getting ready in peace. Then off to the bathroom ... oooh, I just love that BodyGlide. This was not a particulary fast transition.

- The course was a 5 km loop that served all the race distances. The half Ironman racers needed to run an extra 1.1 km (4 x 5 km = only 20 km) so they designed one segment of this loop just for us and added a long hill. Great. Just what my legs needed. I walked up this hill every time - didn't want to destroy my legs and I felt lazy. We also had to run through a field and through a small section of woods on loose gravel. That was cool. Coming out of the woods, there was a volunteer with a hose to mist us ... AHHHH ...

- The unfortunate thing about being nervous for a race and then travelling is that my body gets thrown off balance. What I could not do for two days, my body told me that now, after running 4 km, was *the time*. Great. Mother Nature calling. What horrible cramping. I located a nearby public bathroom (why go port-o-let when there's a better and more comfortable alternative?) No luck. So I ended up running with cramps for the other three loops. Walked through the water stations when I took water and made sure to splash my face and arms. Felt good because the day had heated up considerably.

- Because I took it fairly easy during the race, I was able to pick up my pace during the last 50 km and "sprinted" in.

Yay, I am a half Ironwoman !!!

Overall time - 6:53:17

Swim plus run to transition area - 56:45

Bike plus transition - 3:36:04

Run - 2:20:28

Check out the fast field here.

No finisher's medal though ... Hmmm, I'm going to have to reconsider this sport. Humph!

If I was to change one thing about my race, it would have been to put on sunscreen ... Oh the pain of a 7-HOUR SUNBURN !!!

Yamachiche Half Marathon - July 14, 2001

This race will forever be in my heart as it was my first real racing event.

Taper, what’s that? This race was the fifth day straight of running for me that week, just another day in my marathon training.

The field was full of elite and sub-elite runners. Little did I know what I had plunged myself into. I will never forget the Start and the relative feeling of not moving since everyone else was running. I remember the farm fields and country roads, the people cheering, my trying unsuccessfully to drink from a water cup while running and then being informed by another runner to pinch it.

I will never forget how exhausted I felt at 17km as I had run faster than I ever had for that distance. There was no special hoopla when I finished, no finisher's medal, and no friends to congratulate me. I had gone alone and don't even think I had told anyone ahead of time. I ate a snack and rested a bit, drove home, and then later picked up my friend and trainer, Dirk, at the bus station. We went to eat Chinese food that night and I had absolutely no clue as to what I had just achieved.

Gun time: 1:55:28, which still remains my PR (personal record)
Overall place: 243/285 (see what I mean about the fast field!)

Ottawa Marathon - May 11, 2003

Thought I would just fill you in on another crazy moment in my life ...

Could not have asked for nicer weather to run a marathon. This time in Ottawa, on Mother's Day. 15C to start, maybe 20C to finish, partially cloudy, with a breeze. Shorts weather!

Got up that morning and tried to eat some breakfast. Fruit went down well enough even though I had to force myself a little ... toast became a cheap imitation of cardboard as I tried to chew it. NERVES!! Alright, just fruit was good enough, had to be ...

Scurried off with DB to the start line, and made it with perhaps a minute's spare - camera did not want to work - oh well. Quickly slipped in between the 4:00 and 4:15 pace bunnies (yeah, right ...) Then I thought people were just bunching up, like at all the other marathons, but hey, whoops, there I was, suddenly running over the start line with everyone else, but most definitely less prepared ... The thing about running a marathon is that once you've crossed that line, there's no turning back ...


Race was ... interesting ... different. Ottawa's course is a double loop.

Pros: You know where you're going the second time round.

Cons: You know where you're going the second time round. It's like the mileage markers ... One can say, hey, I only have 14 km more to run!Woohoo!! Or ... F**K, I still have 14 km to run!!

I suppose in a way, like even at this very moment, I was and still am in shock of it all. I've been way too busy to prepare properly for this race, physically and mentally, but somehow I made it to Ottawa and finished it, and I can still walk ... Definitely not enough mileage during training (averaged around 35 km/week x 6 weeks, er, perhaps less) with my longest runs being 21, 25, and 32 km, coming from a "winter base" of 10 km/week. Nope, still can't believe I ran this one ... I feel like I've been clubbed over the head and sent to la-la land, but somehow I've ended up with another medal ... woohoo!

I actually didn't notice too much about the course - I suppose parts were pretty - the tulips, the water, definitely not the industrial suburban part, the trees ... but everything seemed to blend in together and I seemed to be more focused on just watching the other runners and making it around the next turn. There sure were a lot of runners, especially when the half marathoners started on the course with the full marathoners, all fresh and full of energy, only needing to complete one loop, while we were already doing our second one. You know, I still can't even remember anything in particular about what I was thinking during the run ... it all felt so surreal, and still does (well, except for the definite lactic acid build-up in my quads).

At times I would catch myself smiling because it all seemed so incredible, and the day was so gorgeous. One of the most wonderful feelings while running is when a spectator looks you right in the eye and gives you words of encouragement and you know these words are meant just for you, and you need it so much because you are feeling like you can't go on and you question why you are even running ...

I was actually a good girl this time ... no swearing, and no getting frustrated or angry at myself for thinking I had it in me to run another marathon. I guess I just let go, and went with it, even the pain and the cramping, and the feeling that it'd never end ... but it felt so good when that breeze hit just at the right time, and the music filled my soul and nudged me gently as I passed the bands, and I could feel the power of all the other runners around me needing to feel alive, just like me ...

The kilometre markings passed the quickest in the 30's, don't know why, they just did, maybe 'cause I wanted them to ... but one could not mistake nearing the finish, as "all of Ottawa" turned out to cheer us on. I asked an official "how far?", and he said 500m, and I couldn't believe it. But then I saw the Finish line, and I knew I had to boot it, and then I heard a girl's voice say "look, she's going faster!". I poured it on even more as I started "sprinting" and leapt victoriously through the finish, leaving the half-marathoners eating my dust.

Thank you John for going out of your way as the "innkeeper" of The Urban B&B and getting up early to make sure I had something in my tummy, and for chatting with me. It helped to still my nerves. Thank you to the small handful of friends that knew I would be running this marathon, that love and support me unconditionally albeit my wacky and crazy dreams ...

Thank you to my kids, Toulouse and Gustav. Thank you for helping make this such a wonderful Mother's Day, just by being mine and by being so pure and loving and sweet, and proud of their mummy ...

But a most special thank you to DB, for coming out to share all this with me ... It was so good to see you at the mid-point, so good to hear the crowd cheer as we stole a kiss - it gave me courage to run the second loop. Thank you for the special words you screamed out as I crossed the finish line ... I did hear your voice, and it was wonderful. And thank you for taking care of me afterwards, and for just being you ...

These are my stats for those who are interested ...

Gun Time: 4:25:10.8 (Wow, it took almost 2 min. to cross the start line!!)
Chip Time: 4:23:19.8 (This is the REAL time it took me ...)
Pace: 6:18 min/km

Overall Placement: 1874/2668
Gender Placement: 589/1025
Age Group (W 35-39): 118/204

First Lap (21.1km): 2:07:05
Second Lap (21.1 - 42.2 km): 2:18:07

Well, another day, another medal, back to the old grindstone now ... hmmm ... until the next race ...

Have a most fantastic day!!

Montreal Half-Marathon - April 13, 2003

Beautiful day for a long run today on Ile-Ste-Helene. Not too hot, nor too cold, average about 2-3C, slight wind sometimes (annoyingly so ... reminiscent of Niagara Marathon), lack of slight wind sometimes (annoyingly so ... boy, when that sun beats down!!) Glad I was able to take off my jacket sleeves! Never knew I was so flexible!!

Word to the wise ... do not go swing dancing for 3 1/2 hours , then go to bed at 4:00am thinking you might feel bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7:30am, then think you might have some sort of glycogen reserve in your legs past 7km. Aargh!! For those who know me well, I guess this would not be so out of the ordinary ... I did eat a big bowl of cereal though when I got home last night!! Thank you Marcy and Robin for trying to carbo load me yesterday. Made for great swing dancing!

Anyway ... the course was nice, though it went by too quickly (as I tried to focus on finding any energy reserve in my body at all!), except for around the rowing basin which was LONG AND BORING. Nice touch being able to see the finish line so clearly though, as it gave some respite to having to run the last bit along this basin into the headwind.

So now, another leg of my short and intense period of marathon training is over. Yes, another long run down ... Three more to go until Ottawa. Half-marathons are still difficult, especially with a lack of proper training ... but one major difference between them and the fulls is the cursing. I still exclaim and doubt and question during a half, but it's over before I know it! I never quite had time to mumble expletives before I shouted "Whooee!!"

Thanks to my virtual running mates, Kara and Christelle for your wonderful support. Thanks, and a HUGE CONGRATS to my kick-boxing training partner Veronica, who ran her first race ever! Thanks to Dirk for fertilizing these horrible seeds of marathon addiction in my head, and for teaching me so much about training. Thanks to Robin and Marcy for taking care of me yesterday, and helping me to relax and get into the necessary head space. And thanks to all my friends for encouraging me and understanding why I do this (or at least feigning to ...)

Gun time: 2:03:07.3
Chip time: 2:02:37.2
Pace: 5:51 min/km

Overall: 594/735
Gender: 154/219
Category (W 35-39): 28/37

0 - 10k split: 58:00
10k - 21.1k split: 1:05:08

So that's it ... Didn't push the pace, 'cause I got bigger and better things coming up - marathon #6 .... Onto the next medal!!

Quebec Marathon - August 25, 2002

Well, about a month ago, my friend, Richard, and I got to talking about how our running and injuries were coming along.

To give us some motivation, I came up with the idea:

"Hey Richard, how 'bout we train for and run the Toronto Marathon this October? If we start now, we should be fine by marathon time."

To which Richard replied:

"Hey, how 'bout the Quebec one at the end of August?"

I laughed heartily at this incredulous idea ...

So as crazy as the idea was to run a marathon after only a month training ... we did it! (Mind you, we cursed each other during the run, more my cursing him though, I'd say!). But as Richard said, "Bonnie, consider it a training run for the upcoming marathons ..."

Yeah ... right.

So that's it, folks ... To those few who actually knew I was planning to run this, thanks for not making fun of me but rather for supporting me in this lofty endeavour of proving that I am still alive.

And thank you to my lovely children, Toulouse and Gustav, and to my sweet friend, Nadine, for those last final cheers that helped me to end triumphantly with a burst of speed, my arms thrown up in the air at the finish line. Thank you Richard for being lunatic enough to convince me to do this, and for waiting patiently for me at the finish line, albeit your own fatigue. And thank you, Dirk, for having believed in and supported me always right from the seeds of my first marathon last year.

Now, you do not want to know about Richard's and mine last conversation about running ... I think I'm in trouble ...

Here are my results (not as fast as my previous marathons, but hey, I only had a month training!)

Gun time: 4:37:16.5
Chip time: 4:36:28.4
Pace: 6:35 min/km

Overall placement: 951/1214
Gender placement: 148/211

0 - 21.1 km: 2:11:25
21.1 - 42.2 km: 2:25:52

Toronto International Marathon - October 14, 2001

Just wanted to let you know about my last race ... rain, rain, rain ... Nonetheless, I had a marvelous time (albeit the PAIN - my knee! my knee!), but overall a real exhilarating experience though I was not thinking that at, let's just say, kilometre 33.

All I could think about was, "I'm hobbling like Terry Fox" and "this industrial park area is horribly boring". The end chute down University was really cool as the street sort of feels majestic with its openess. This feeling quickly ended as I rounded Queen's Park, which went on and on and on for what felt like an eternity, with no sight of the finish line until the last minutes.

At one point earlier in the race, I had ran with a certain gentleman. Towards 10km, I started feeling tired so I told him to go on without me and run his own race. Soon after the half-way point, I passed him. He didn't look too good. In fact, I passed him a second time a good hour after I finished as I walked with a friend back down University to check out the end of the race. He was walking painfully ... OH! Another marathon casualty!

To those who knew I was running this one, thanks for your support. To those who didn't ... surprise! (Didn't know I was that CRAZY, huh?) I just wanted to make sure that first marathon in Quebec wasn't just a fluke.

Have a most marvelous day, and dreams do come true!

Gun time: 4:11:43.5
Chip time: 4:10:57.3 - a new PR!!
Pace: 5:58 min/km

Overall: 1082/1826
Gender: 247/556
Age group (W 30-34): 58/119

First 21.1 km = 2:01:02
Last 21.1 km = 2:10:42

Quebec Marathon - August 26, 2001

I am still alive. Let's just say that the Quebec Marathon was an experience that I will never forget. The first half of the marathon before the bridge was amazing since there was lots of support and cheering and music. Wow.

I was chugging along quite well until kilometre 23 when I got a massive cramp in my right quad, followed soon after by lotsa pain in my left knee (compensation, you know ...). I was suprised by how many people I was able to pass in the last 10km especially since, fearing that I wouldn't be able to finish, I stopped countless times to stretch and massage out my cramp.

I finished!

That feeling of crossing the finish line and realising that my dream had come true felt surreal yet incredibly emotional ... could I really have accomplished this?

It is now Tuesday, and I am obviously still sore, but still floating ...

There are bits and pieces of the marathon that I can't seem to remember ... but all in all, I had a most marvelous time, and might do it again ... keep you posted ... dreams do come true ... so go for it!!

Gun time: 4:18:36.8
Chip time: 4:17:47.2
Pace: 6:08 min/km

Overall place: 833/1255 (over 1500 registered)
Place (W 30-39): 42/77
Gender place: 109/226

Race Reports

Hey there,

There's some hefty reading here, but I hope your enjoy finding out what motivates me to race and also what goes on in my mind while I am racing. I am in the midst of posting all my race reports so please check back often for additions.

Don't say "I can't". Believe "I will" then just do it. Nothing is impossible.

Cheers!

Bonnie

*******************************************

Please click on the links ...

2009
Ottawa Fall Colours 5k October 11

2008
Ironman Louisville August 30
Oka Sprint Tri June 8

2007
Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon September 30
Défi de la Saint-Jean 5k June 24
Ottawa Marathon May 27

2006
New York Marathon November 4
Ironman Canada August 27
Memphremagog Half Ironman July 30
Triathlon des Îles (sprint) May 13

2005
Honolulu Marathon
Yamachiche Half-Marathon

2004
Barbados Half-Marathon
Suzuki Rock’n’Roll San Diego Marathon June 6
Ottawa Half-Marathon May 30

2003
Barbados Marathon December 3
Toronto International Marathon October 19
Quebec Half-Marathon August 24
Yamachiche Half-Marathon
Ottawa Marathon May 11
Montreal Half-Marathon April 13

2002
Niagara Marathon October 27
Hartford Marathon October 12
Quebec Marathon August 25

2001
Toronto International Marathon October 14
Quebec Marathon August 26
Yamachiche Half-Marathon July 14


* I race to collect shiny medals and I especially love travelling to race!