Saturday, December 29, 2012

Seven

We take solace in the numbers, us runners. How many miles did we run, how many minutes did we hit the roads, how many runs did we fit in this week, how many miles did we log as we wind down the year?

This afternoon, I took a few minutes to upload my runs on Daily Mile. I resynched my Garmin connect account.

1393 miles for the year. Officially my lowest annual mileage in seven years. In 2008 and 2009, I put more than 2000 miles each of those years and even last year, I put in 1788 miles.

That's fine. 1393 miles or 2240 kilometres is no dinky mileage. Those miles included four marathons, but mostly solitary and reflective miles.

I've been pretty silent on the blog front this year, and the last three months have me putting this social and blog life on hold. Other things take more priority, and I've grown accustomed to balancing life, work, friends, family and running all in one.

Running has been a nice refuge since my mother passed. As winter has set in, and the darkest day just behind us, I'm forcing myself out on the streets after work. The last week I've been off for holidays so I've enjoyed the light, and the snow.

Tomorrow, I hit the seventh year anniversary of this blog. By Monday, I need seven miles to hit 1400 in 2012. And that sounds like I know how many miles I'll be putting in before I say goodbye to 2012.



Saturday, November 03, 2012

Cancelled NYC Marathon

Been pretty terrifying looking at what has happened in New York and New Jersey this week. I was grounded in DC for three extra days because of Sandy and while the wind was fierce and it was a little scary, this was the worst I saw in D.C.'s Northwest.



I ran the Marine Corps Marathon just hours before Sandy's outer edges reached the D.C. area. This week, days after saying the New York City Marathon would go on, the mayor decided to cancel it on Friday, just two days before the event.

Running friends on Twitter were already on the way there. I reached out to Fran (who I've known for years and ran Boston with in 2010) and others are in New York. The backlash against runners was hard to watch unfold, but like the way runners are, I'm happy to see them do what I knew what they would do. Step up.

The running community is strong, and there are tonnes of great people. It's an open sport we have and I'm glad to see Fran and others try to adjust.

I wrote a piece on Francis and Frank who I interviewed today over the phone. First time I talked to him even though we've been tweeting for years.

Here's part of the piece:

Francis Ng was ready to run a marathon in New York City on Sunday but now the Toronto marathoner is instead looking to pitch in as the region recovers from this week's massive storm.

He's just one of the many Canadian runners who found out too late that the New York City Marathon was cancelled, a race that draws more than 47,000 entrants.

Other athletes from Canada and many from around the world were already on the way to the Big Apple when the mayor's office cancelled one of the world's largest marathons. The 2011 edition of the marathon drew 1,200 Canadians and more than half of the race's participants are from outside of the United States.

Ng found out at at the departure lounge in Toronto that the race was cancelled, so instead of running through the five boroughs on Sunday morning, he's now looking to make a trip up to the Bronx to volunteer at Pelham Bay Nature Center.

"Runners seem to all be disappointed, but they all seem to understand the circumstances," Ng said in an email from his Times Square hotel. "Everyone's in the same boat so it seems to be a good bonding issue for runners."



Read the rest here.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Running the 37th Marine Corps Marathon

I'm tapped out for writing actual prose about this latest race, but here goes.

It was cathartic. It was life affirming. It was powerful and humbling and my body did not let me down. In fact, if I ran a race with my heart, and my body obeyed, this would be it.

We outran Sandy's arrival, and I collected my sixth Marine Corps Marathon medal. And in my mind, mom was finally looking on, cheering me to a 3:52 finish. (Thanks everyone for your comments and thoughts on my last post.)

Panoramic picture of the start (scroll sideways or click on arrow)
Panoramic view at the start corral. Click here for larger version


In front of the Iwo Jima memorial, after we climb a steep after following 26.18 miles of running.
Another runner volunteered to take a picture of me.

And the final time... Was on pace for a slightly faster marathon, but happy with the result


Wednesday, October 24, 2012

My mom

I'd like to tell you about my mom. Her name is Amy Man Yee Yum. This post was supposed to be a race report but at the outset, this really was about my mom. I started writing this post a few days after the marathon I ran on Oct. 14. It was an emotional experience to run that course, and putting the race into words helped me deal with what me (and my family) was dealing with. I finished this report a few days later, early in the morning, in those helpless few hours after my mother passed away, with no real intention of publishing it until after we'd said goodbye to her. I've decided to publish this now, almost a week after she has gone. It's only a small thing I can do in her memory. I've included at the bottom my eulogy I delivered this past Saturday, where our family and friends gathered in Scarborough.

----

“I’m pulling out. I’m not going to do a fucking marathon in four hours,” the runner muttered as I slowly pulled alongside the pair, about to pass, the next kilometre mark seemingly miles ahead, 30 kilometres behind us.

“It’s not about the clock,” he said in an encouraging voice. 

She paused. “Yes it is about the clock,” she finally answered.

He’s right. No, it isn’t.

Almost a month ago, when my iPhone’s call display read “Dad,” a moment of panic set in. He’s the typical Dad and I’m the typical son. We don’t do many phone calls, but the last time dad called when I was in the States, he calmly told me he had heart attack. This time, it wasn’t about him, but it wasn’t him that I was concerned about.

“Are you coming to visit mom today?” he asked. “No, I’m in San Francisco,” I said. “Why?”

***
I’ve blogged in the past about running in my old neighbourhood. There’s an old path that winds its way around my old elementary school. Back in the day, while in Grade 4 or 5, our Phys-Ed teacher would send us on what seemed like the longest run (“Why couldn’t we just go around the track?”). He’d send us out and we’d be the usual group of grade-school kids: we all went out too fast, some slowed down to a reasonable pace, some struggled to finish the run, while the laggards resorted to run-walking the course. I was a middle of the pack, asthmatic jogger.  

A few weeks ago, on a Wednesday afternoon, after returning to my parent’s house from the hospital, I put on my shoes and told my Dad I’d be going for a run. I ran down a massive hill, visited the nearby woods, and did a loop of the old elementary cross-country trail, 2 kilometres, thinking about getting older and how you can’t run away from life.

The long story short is my mom, at the age of 63, was placed into pallative care a few days after he called me, and that’s where she has been since. We’ve been prepared as a family as her decline has been years in the making, but it has been 30 years since I first had a ‘sick’ mom. And now, when my mom should be in her early retirement years in a society when we talk about living to ripe old age, I’m helping my elder dad prepare for her end of life.

My vow was to be there at the end, to spend the final days with family. So my brother, dad and I have been preparing while spending time. We’ve tried to fulfill our everyday lives, which is to say that sleep, work and time with each other take precedence over all else. My running, an activity and passion that I’ve always found refuge in, fell to the sidelines, my new marathon shoes barely broken in.

***
I knew it at the time, but I had no business racing a marathon that weekend. Every logical look at my preparedness, the lack of long miles, no major long runs since mid August, no ‘time on feet’ and no endurance training.  But there was a need. A need to reclaim a bit of myself, to lean on running in times of stress, to do an event i’ve always found life affirming. Or was it to lose myself, to bury my grief into a long run. I confided with a running friend that I was thinking of running, I needed to run it for myself.

These past few years, my mother only had a small recollection of what the present day me was. Four years ago, she was no longer the mom I could have a real conversation with -- strokes, brain injury and and dementia took care of that. With her bedridden, my dad her primary caregiver, our conversations became shorter, us satisfied with every visit that she could recognize us. The truth is, while in words, what she could manage was questions about health, marriage, whether there was enough money in the bank and that we were okay, we were comforted just to hold her hand and see a spark of recognition in her eyes. I was her son and she loved me. It doesn’t take anything more complicated than that.

Long distance running is my only chance sometimes to escape the noise. I realize on many of my long runs that i’m just seeking the loneliness just to get to ‘my place’. I ran the marathon this past weekend fuelled the need for self reflection. I wanted to confront pain in life, I wanted to push myself to exhaustion, I wanted to celebrate a motion that we all take for granted, the ability to move, have joy in just the fact that human beings are so capable of so much -- fall 24 miles from high altitude, run 26.2 miles fuelled on heart and mind (even undertrained). I wanted to show with an act, a morning of movement, to show that you can live life to the purposeful extreme, to remember that living every day while your mind is sound, your body is strong, is to celebrate what you have and what you may one day be without.

***
Shortly after passing the disappointed four hour marathoner, I entered my own world of hurt. My fitness started to suffer by 32K, a series of cramps started to put a halt to any attempt at pace running. “For mom,” I said in that final hour, picturing the pain she’s gone through. My heart said run as hard as I could but my mind would only allow me to run to the shallow end of pain, recover, and run again. Those last 8 kilometres, done in 800 metre spurts of running followed by stretch breaks to keep the cramps at bay, were the best that I could do. I had no shame of stopping, no cares of passing the 4 hour mark, no need but to make it to the end.

After getting my medal, my 21st marathon, I knew it was the most important one i’ve done. It was for myself but somehow for her. I cried while walking past the post-finish line area, eyes shaded by sunglasses, tears covered by sweat and the bill of my running cap. I thought about how I’d lost the mom others have had for a very long time. I couldn’t share my greatest accomplishments -- work achievements, qualifying for Boston, forging that adult relationship with my parent. I thought about the marathon and how it draws out supporters for runners and how she’d never seen me run. 

Later that day, I wore my marathon shirt and went to the hospital, helped feed mom dinner. My legs were burning, my body exhausted. Her right hand was as strong as ever, gripping my hand, her thumb stroking my finger. Four days later, she was gone.

My mom, Amy Man Yee Yum. I'm the youngest.


Eulogy, delivered on Saturday, Oct. 20, 2012 


I want to thank everyone for coming today. I’d like to thank my mom’s sisters, who helped us organize this final goodbye, to friends and cousins of our family who came to our aid and to my brother and dad who brought you all here together today. Mom would have shied away from a gathering like this but I'd like to speak to you about my mother, who today we all mourning, but are also remembering, celebrating and loving.

Growing up, mom always told me when I would start speaking to her home: 'I don't understand English'. 

“我不明白英语" She actually did, understand English, but it was her way of making me learn Cantonese the hard way. Today, I’m grateful for that lesson and the many others she taught me. But in the sake of eloquence, I shall stick to English.

When I think of my childhood, I realize my brother and I were a handful -- we didn’t fit into the traditional mold, two kids who were not really interested in following any path set by immigrant parents. 

Take our piano lessons. Mom thought it'd be a good idea to buy an upright -- everyone else was -- in the hopes that William and I would take to tickling the ivories. Instead, we took a few years of lessons, then proceeded to mail it in during our three-times-a-week 'practicing' sessions that would involve playing the same tune over and over again. We’d play, then turning the page of some comic book every minute. But mom didn't complain to our obvious lack of interest, she was just happy we were playing some sort of tune.

Music, I must say, was a joy to mom, and in my early years, she was always humming a tune. We grew up in a household that loved The Sound of Music, the soundtrack that played constantly, and I’m thankful for our harpist Nathalie -- sister of my girlfriend -- who has been playing mom’s favourite music today. In these final challenging years, we’d put on the DVD to help my mom remember and it was great comfort to her.

How do sons reflect their mothers. I look at many parts of me and know what an influence my mom has had. Food and family meals were such an important part of her life. Mom enlisted my brother and I on her weekend cooking excursions. I'd be grating radishes to be steamed into turnip cakes, or have a cauldron of bean sprouts that my mom expected me to deroot, every single individual sprout. She challenged our palettes with Ox Tail (which landed in the garbage after I spit it out onto Kleenex) and tripe (of which I loved the snappy rubber-band crunch). Every weekend, we'd be wrapping, cutting, stuffing and baking. She must of thought it meant something to me when she enrolled me in junior chef summer school in Grade 4. I am passionate about food, a love sparked by her.

Many years later, after I'd moved out of home and put together my own kitchen and dabbled in cooking courses, one of my proudest moments was when I prepared my family's Christmas dinner with all the fixings. My mom beamed when she saw the spread and I unofficially took on the title of Yum family cook (Sorry William). She looked as proud as the day I graduated with my journalism degree from Ryerson.

Amy arrived in Canada to attend library studies at Ryerson in 1968. In the Baldwin Chinatown, and among a fledgling immigrant Chinese community, she met my dad. My dad describes the courtship with my mom as follows: She’s the girl next door, and he the guy with a job and a car, a sweet ride. Figures nothing changes. Glamour shots that my dad took in those early courtship years confirm that they travelled widely, a funky young couple.
By 1974, she had me and William, a house in Scarborough and a new occupation at Canada Post. If there is a Canadian Dream -- a life better for your kids than one you had for yourself -- they had it, built by elbow grease and determination.

Last night, I sat down and talked to my dad and brother, and we chatted about what mom meant to us. Fighter, my dad wanted me to tell you. She was a fighter.

Mom was placed into palliative care about three weeks ago, at the age of 63 -- it had been 30 years since I first had a ‘sick’ mom. I was 8 in 1982 when my mom suffered her first stroke, 23 when she spent a summer in a coma and 34 when she faced her latest crisis. She fought cancer, lupus, blood infections and strokes with many near misses. 

Every time we tried to slow her down, to get her to do less in her home, she’d only double back and fight for the independence she craved. In those 30 years, many of which saw my mom struggle to recover, relearn words and movements, she was unwavered in one respect.  Every time she fought, we knew it was for us. That’s the second thing my dad and others have reminded us. William and I were the centre of her universe, and her love for the two of us was so fierce and pure.

My dad retired 10 years ago in order to spend quality years with my mom. He started to take her around the world and they became professional cruisers: three times to China, to the Mediterranean, Alaska, Mexico and the Caribbean. He wanted to help her experience life and we are thankful for that time.

My dad uses the word miracle to describe my mom’s perseverance. But it was Dad who was in her corner every time, for 41 years alongside her, many times battling for her. 

As for me, I am my mother’s son. From her, I inherit an inner drive that makes up so much of me, both in my professional and personal lives. She had big expectations of her sons, and while I wasn’t the typical idea of a success in the early days when one’s worth were judged by grades, she was in the end proud on how I took the best of her -- hard work, respect, caring and loyalty -- and turned them into my own makeup today. 

The last year, it has been difficult to communicate with mom. Our conversations were simple, but she had clear-thinking days sometimes and on one visit, before I went left for home, I drew in close and spoke to her, adding a few extra words to my goodbye. Her immediate response surprised me, and she said it back in English. “I love you too,” she said. It was the first time she’d ever say those words in English but I needed no words to know the truth.

Mom fought for far too long, but she left us far too early. Today, with a heavy heart, we are all grateful that she is now in peace. Amy was the strongest among us, a fighter to the end and today, while we say goodbye, I am proud to be here to tell you about her, as her son.

Thank you

Monday, September 10, 2012

The long leadup

I have a very peculiar marathon training program this year. It's not mapped in a Google calendar as I've done years past, nor do I consult a schedule or a printed program. Yep, it's all neatly in my head.

Not that the type of marathon training progression will result in great times -- in fact, I think I've had one of the slowest buildups I've had since beginning marathoning in 2006.

I've been through the ringer when it comes to marathon training. Between the years 2007 and 2010, I was a faithful devotee to the Pfitzinger-Douglas Advanced Marathon program, which I've written about at length (especially if you go back and read this blog from the summers of 2008 and 2009).

My general belief, as I enter the ranks of a 'veteran' marathoner who isn't aiming at fast times, is that with age and experience, one can successfully train for a marathon based on this formula.

Simply build endurance: I believe in building up to at least 40 miles, hopefully topping at the mid to high 40s. That's at least 65 kilometres a week topping up a little higher.

Run consistently: My formula is to run four weekdays a week (one rest day) and then run both weekend days. I know I've had a halfway decent week if I've put in at least 20 miles over the course of the workweek. These days, I tend to try to put in at least three 10ks and maybe a shorter run. In my heart of hearts, I wish to get in a 10 miler in mid-week but time has always been against me.

Go long: This is my golden rule, in that the long run is the key building block. Nothing prepares you for the marathon like running long, and by long I mean more than 15 miles (ideally more than 17).

This last point, going long, has got me a tad bit worried about my buildup to my fall marathoning season. In 2009, I logged 15 15+ milers from my spring marathon to fall. In 2011, I did seven 15+ milers before my triple marathon fall (three in one month). Since I ran the Ottawa Marathon in late May, I've only done three runs more than 16.5 miles. 

So now I'm five weeks out from Scotiabank and seven from MCM, I have a new tactic: Run long this weekend, step back the following weekend (when I'd typically taper), then run long again two weeks out from Scotia. Use Scotia as another 'long run' two weeks out from MCM. In other words, i'm going to do three long runs in the next five weeks and use Scotiabank as a 'training' marathon.

Feels like a little bit of cramming miles, but I think it's doable. 

Sunday, September 02, 2012

Paul Ryan, Kip Litton and why you can't run away from running lies

I blame Kip Litton and Paul Ryan for making me miss my long run this morning. I was ready to go to bed last night before midnight, hoping to get up early to escape the heat in DC but I made the mistake of following some links on a social media site. By 2 a.m. I was just putting away the fascinating reading about the unrelated cases of a vice-presidential candidate and a dentist in his late 40s.

Paul Ryan, as it turns out, gave a radio interview recently where it came out that he once ran a marathon. When asked, he said, casually, that he had done a 2:50 or so (um, wow?!). As it turns out, he ran a 4:01 when he was 20, as reported by RW. (I love it when Runner's World is doing U.S. campaign coverage and sparking a bunch of coverage about his fib.

Kip Litton, long the subject of blogs and discussion boards, was the subject of a very lengthy New Yorker feature that was published in early August. The absolute page turner (or in web terms, a screen scroller) sees journalist Mark Singer detail the Michigan man's stunning turnaround into a sub-three marathoner. In short, it asks "Is Kip Litton a Marathon Fraud." It's a runner's version of a short mystery.

Go read the pieces now if you haven't. See you in an hour or so :)

Both Ryan and Litton can't run and hide from the truth. In Ryan's case, it took some digging and reporting to find his past marathon result. For Litton, it proved more so a challenge and it there seems to be a lot of evidence of course cutting (and in one case, when he actually created a race, submitted it to Athlinks, and had a website built with race results). Again, the Internet sluths were on to him.

Me running the MCM in 2009.
Another example (and well documented) is the case of the Jean's Marines, where a group of runners cut the Marine Corps Marathon course so they could 'beat the bridge', a point in the course you had to be past by a deadline so you can finish the marathon.

I've run more than 80 races, 20 marathons and even during in the last 30K, I thought about the runners' code. Long distance running, as a course, can't be governed, every last square inch.  Plenty of opportunities to turn off the path and cut corners. And in races where thousands run, you really hope that the Rosie Ruizs of the world are an abnormality.

Technology in part has helped us create an honor system with some checks. As the Litton case showed, fellow runners used race photographs (now in most races) to piece together the puzzle. Chip timing mats, I believe, are a great check. We may decry gadgets and what they are to running, but most serious runners have a GPS device that will break down any race by the metre. I have every marathon I've ever run on some sort of device or computer.

We runners race against ourselves. We know our limits and we work hard to get faster. Both Litton and Ryan threw up sub-three marathon numbers like they are an easy add to a running resume. As a runner who aspired (and worked, and earned) to run Boston, I see nothing in that cavalier attitude but a big slap to the face to the rest of us, including those who work for running careers just to get to that point. The pain they suffer and the miles they put in the roads are just too much to ignore such dubious claims by others.

In Ryan's case, there is no doubt that there is a world of different (and pain) between a 4 hour and three hour pace. Four hours is tough, three hours is hard for most runners to even aim at.

My PB (and every runner who has them should be able to tell you) is 3:12:36, a time that was earned on the streets, on the course, and though it may be my peak, there's no running away from it.

Running ragged

Why don't more runners suffer from allergies, we may wonder. Well, meet my nemesis,  the plant that is growing in droves in Toronto and one that has taken me down for the second summer.

Ragweed in Toronto. I risked my life taking this photo.


Stupid ragweed. See how sinister it looks. The plant sends more more pollen than most others and in this time of year, the pollen count in Toronto is in high mode. (Today, as I post this, it's in medium - yippee!)

I, like many others, have to deal with life with allergies throughout the year. In reality, I go through various times of years where I am susceptible to allergies, and it is all the more sensitive given that I run outside year long. During those few weeks in early April and in late August, I'm usually getting the antihistimes prepared, becase in general, 11 months of the year, I'm actually great outside.

As an allergy sufferer, I make sure that when I travel to other climates that I have the antihistimes just in case. Sometimes as a precaution, when I know I'm encountering cities in a full bloom, I may just keep a Reactine, Claritin or Aerius handy.

Last year, just after racing the Midsummer's 30k, I took off on vacation and promptly was slammed with allergies. A few days after this year's race, I felt the symptoms and started to bombard my body with antihistimes. The allergies did it, and I suffered a few days at work with congestion and other symptoms. I generally hate antihistimes, as they dry you and a few of them also knock you off balance. I know Benedryl for example knocks out quite a few people who take them.

So here I am, two weeks later with a reduced running schedule as I try to get my body back to normal. Choosing between the symptoms and a body battling the symptoms, both are pretty horrible for running. Allergies that causes sneezing, nasal congestion and general (yes, it's gross) mucus building -- not ideal for running. Our lung capacity diminishes and it's hard to get a rhythm going, not to mention the coughing, sneezing and general 'can't breathing thing'.

I'm better now, testing out the climes in DC and thankfully this humid city doesn't seem as bad. Bring on the fall, is all I can say.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Lance Armstrong's statement on doping

Not much to do with running, except Lance Armstrong has run a few marathons (including Boston and New York -- also winning one recently) since 'retiring'. Seen his statement is no longer on his site tonight since his site is down at the moment, reposting his statement regarding dropping his fight against doping charges.

“There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say, “Enough is enough.” For me, that time is now. I have been dealing with claims that I cheated and had an unfair advantage in winning my seven Tours since 1999. Over the past three years, I have been subjected to a two-year federal criminal investigation followed by Travis Tygart’s unconstitutional witch hunt. The toll this has taken on my family, and my work for our foundation and on me leads me to where I am today - finished with this nonsense.

I had hoped that a federal court would stop USADA’s charade. Although the court was sympathetic to my concerns and recognized the many improprieties and deficiencies in USADA’s motives, its conduct, and its process, the court ultimately decided that it could not intervene.

If I thought for one moment that by participating in USADA’s process, I could confront these allegations in a fair setting and - once and for all - put these charges to rest, I would jump at the chance. But I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair. Regardless of what Travis Tygart says, there is zero physical evidence to support his outlandish and heinous claims. The only physical evidence here is the hundreds of controls I have passed with flying colors. I made myself available around the clock and around the world. In-competition. Out of competition. Blood. Urine. Whatever they asked for I provided. What is the point of all this testing if, in the end, USADA will not stand by it?

From the beginning, however, this investigation has not been about learning the truth or cleaning up cycling, but about punishing me at all costs. I am a retired cyclist, yet USADA has lodged charges over 17 years old despite its own 8-year limitation. As respected organizations such as UCI and USA Cycling have made clear, USADA lacks jurisdiction even to bring these charges. The international bodies governing cycling have ordered USADA to stop, have given notice that no one should participate in USADA’s improper proceedings, and have made it clear the pronouncements by USADA that it has banned people for life or stripped them of their accomplishments are made without authority. And as many others, including USADA’s own arbitrators, have found, there is nothing even remotely fair about its process. USADA has broken the law, turned its back on its own rules, and stiff-armed those who have tried to persuade USADA to honor its obligations. At every turn, USADA has played the role of a bully, threatening everyone in its way and challenging the good faith of anyone who questions its motives or its methods, all at U.S. taxpayers’ expense. For the last two months, USADA has endlessly repeated the mantra that there should be a single set of rules, applicable to all, but they have arrogantly refused to practice what they preach. On top of all that, USADA has allegedly made deals with other riders that circumvent their own rules as long as they said I cheated. Many of those riders continue to race today.

The bottom line is I played by the rules that were put in place by the UCI, WADA and USADA when I raced. The idea that athletes can be convicted today without positive A and B samples, under the same rules and procedures that apply to athletes with positive tests, perverts the system and creates a process where any begrudged ex-teammate can open a USADA case out of spite or for personal gain or a cheating cyclist can cut a sweetheart deal for themselves. It’s an unfair approach, applied selectively, in opposition to all the rules. It’s just not right.

USADA cannot assert control of a professional international sport and attempt to strip my seven Tour de France titles. I know who won those seven Tours, my teammates know who won those seven Tours, and everyone I competed against knows who won those seven Tours. We all raced together. For three weeks over the same roads, the same mountains, and against all the weather and elements that we had to confront. There were no shortcuts, there was no special treatment. The same courses, the same rules. The toughest event in the world where the strongest man wins. Nobody can ever change that. Especially not Travis Tygart.

Today I turn the page. I will no longer address this issue, regardless of the circumstances. I will commit myself to the work I began before ever winning a single Tour de France title: serving people and families affected by cancer, especially those in underserved communities. This October, my Foundation will celebrate 15 years of service to cancer survivors and the milestone of raising nearly $500 million. We have a lot of work to do and I’m looking forward to an end to this pointless distraction. I have a responsibility to all those who have stepped forward to devote their time and energy to the cancer cause. I will not stop fighting for that mission. Going forward, I am going to devote myself to raising my five beautiful (and energetic) kids, fighting cancer, and attempting to be the fittest 40-year old on the planet.”

“There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say, “Enough is enough.” For me, that time is now. I have been dealing with claims that I cheated and had an unfair advantage in winning my seven Tours since 1999. Over the past three years, I have been subjected to a two-year federal criminal investigation followed by Travis Tygart’s unconstitutional witch hunt. The toll this has taken on my family, and my work for our foundation and on me leads me to where I am today - finished with this nonsense.
I had hoped that a federal court would stop USADA’s charade. Although the court was sympathetic to my concerns and recognized the many improprieties and deficiencies in USADA’s motives, its conduct, and its process, the court ultimately decided that it could not intervene.
If I thought for one moment that by participating in USADA’s process, I could confront these allegations in a fair setting and - once and for all - put these charges to rest, I would jump at the chance. But I refuse to participate in a process that is so one-sided and unfair. Regardless of what Travis Tygart says, there is zero physical evidence to support his outlandish and heinous claims. The only physical evidence here is the hundreds of controls I have passed with flying colors. I made myself available around the clock and around the world. In-competition. Out of competition. Blood. Urine. Whatever they asked for I provided. What is the point of all this testing if, in the end, USADA will not stand by it?

From the beginning, however, this investigation has not been about learning the truth or cleaning up cycling, but about punishing me at all costs. I am a retired cyclist, yet USADA has lodged charges over 17 years old despite its own 8-year limitation. As respected organizations such as UCI and USA Cycling have made clear, USADA lacks jurisdiction even to bring these charges. The international bodies governing cycling have ordered USADA to stop, have given notice that no one should participate in USADA’s improper proceedings, and have made it clear the pronouncements by USADA that it has banned people for life or stripped them of their accomplishments are made without authority. And as many others, including USADA’s own arbitrators, have found, there is nothing even remotely fair about its process. USADA has broken the law, turned its back on its own rules, and stiff-armed those who have tried to persuade USADA to honor its obligations. At every turn, USADA has played the role of a bully, threatening everyone in its way and challenging the good faith of anyone who questions its motives or its methods, all at U.S. taxpayers’ expense. For the last two months, USADA has endlessly repeated the mantra that there should be a single set of rules, applicable to all, but they have arrogantly refused to practice what they preach. On top of all that, USADA has allegedly made deals with other riders that circumvent their own rules as long as they said I cheated. Many of those riders continue to race today.

The bottom line is I played by the rules that were put in place by the UCI, WADA and USADA when I raced. The idea that athletes can be convicted today without positive A and B samples, under the same rules and procedures that apply to athletes with positive tests, perverts the system and creates a process where any begrudged ex-teammate can open a USADA case out of spite or for personal gain or a cheating cyclist can cut a sweetheart deal for themselves. It’s an unfair approach, applied selectively, in opposition to all the rules. It’s just not right.

USADA cannot assert control of a professional international sport and attempt to strip my seven Tour de France titles. I know who won those seven Tours, my teammates know who won those seven Tours, and everyone I competed against knows who won those seven Tours. We all raced together. For three weeks over the same roads, the same mountains, and against all the weather and elements that we had to confront. There were no shortcuts, there was no special treatment. The same courses, the same rules. The toughest event in the world where the strongest man wins. Nobody can ever change that. Especially not Travis Tygart.

Today I turn the page. I will no longer address this issue, regardless of the circumstances. I will commit myself to the work I began before ever winning a single Tour de France title: serving people and families affected by cancer, especially those in underserved communities. This October, my Foundation will celebrate 15 years of service to cancer survivors and the milestone of raising nearly $500 million. We have a lot of work to do and I’m looking forward to an end to this pointless distraction. I have a responsibility to all those who have stepped forward to devote their time and energy to the cancer cause. I will not stop fighting for that mission. Going forward, I am going to devote myself to raising my five beautiful (and energetic) kids, fighting cancer, and attempting to be the fittest 40-year old on the planet.”

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Race report: A Midsummer Night's Run 30K

I may have travelled thousands of kilometers this week, jetting between Toronto, Calgary and Vancouver, but nothing was stopping me from toeing the line of one of my favourite races. This was the sixth time I’ve done the race that in its seventh year is really hitting stride as a premier summer running event in our city.

I ran a good part of the course last weekend, part as a practice of the course, but also to actually get some mileage in. My summer’s been slammed with work so I’ve not been doing mega mileage. Last week, I did 27 kilometres in 5:10 kilometres.

Weatherwise, this year’s edition was perfect. Coolness in the late-summer air, no trace of humidity, sunny but clouds were coming. Last year was humid and misty and the year before that was just plain hot and then rainy. As usual, I ran to the start line from home, getting about two miles in, which neatly gives me a 20 miler in the books.

What I love about this race is it draws out the marathon crowd, so I got to catch up with Lee, Fran, Sam and met Nicole M. IRL. Also caught glimpses of over Daily Milers and bloggers.

Fran was the 2:45 pacer so I stood with him but by the time I was turning the corner after the first straightaway, I had locked in my own pace.

First 10K (5:08, 5:10, 5:12,  5:16, 5:09, 5:00, 5:07, 5:08, 5:05, 5:02)
When I race long distances, I want to be on the edge of discomfort, yet feel like I’m running a natural pace. It happened back at Around the Bay when my target pace (5 minute kilometers) turned out to have some wiggle room which led me to up the pace. I settled perfectly into the 5:05 to 5:10 pace in that first 10K, just getting a sense of how my legs and cardio system were doing.

We ran south to Cherry Beach, which is a route I do all the time, and I was feeling pretty good. No overheating, I had luckily as usual brought my own water/Gatorade supply, and soon overtook the 2:40 pacer around 5K in. I found myself to be running with a fairly big group of runners, that is until we hit the water station and I lost all of them as they stopped for water.

On the way back to Commissioners, a guy walking toward me said “How long is this race?” Me: “30K”. Him: “How far are you in?” Me: <shrug> “About 10!” The stretch of Commissioners had me running solo since I was no longer pacing with any group, a lot of solo and small packs of runners. By  the time we hit 10K, I was wondering how I’d keep a pace without any one else:

10K – 15K (5:09, 5:14, 5:11, 5:14, 5:10)

I found myself running near two guys who looked like they had found their zone, so I started locking on to their pace. Part of it was to do some pace management so I didn’t run too fast. The second part was to figure out how to run as we were passing all the walkers who were just entering Leslie Spit. We spent a good three kilometers or more passing walkers, which is a challenge as they were clogging up portions of the road. Spent quite a bit of time maneuvering around, which was fine but not the type of running that lets you lock on to pace.

16K – 20K (5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:01, 5:06)

By the time we hit the 10 mile mark (16K), we were approaching the lighthouse and turnaround. Because we had the benefit of seeing the runners in front ofus, and later the runners behind us, we started to pick up the pace. I had run this exact stretch last week so I was ready for the course and the different types  of road surfaces. We sped up to 5:01s, clearly gearing at a faster end. As I thought, both runners were well within their ability, but so was I. The cloud was covering the sun so we had some relief from the direct rays, but also it was starting to darken. I hit the 20K mark thinking about the amount of miles left and I was in good spirits

21K to 25K (5:04, 4:59, 4:55, 4:53, 4:50)

We exited the Spit and ran up Leslie. By then, one of the two guys had clearly decided to run the last 10K at his own pace so he took off. Me and a few other runners (including the guy’s partner) were then to decide how fast we went. I kept up my pace as if to give light chase to the faster runner. What that really meant was that I was to run the last 10K solo. I decided to lower the pace a bit as we headed toward Ashbridge’s Bay. You can see the splits start lowering (4:50s ranges). By 22K, I was thinking ‘5 miles,’ which is usually the sign that I’m trying to urge my body to continue as the level of discomfort rose. 4 miles in the park and I was starting to hurt, just a bit. It was pushing a bit on cardio, but I had a lot left, just took some of that inner ‘I’ve raced this distance a tonne of times’ memory.

26K to 28K (4:50, 4:49, 4:47)

By now, we’re in Ashbridge’s Bay and if there were a technical part of this course, this would be it. Lots of windy paths, some elevation changes, and a brief run on wood chips. Also I’d been catching up to and passing slowing runners, so it took a little in me to keep up the pace.

We exited the park back toward the finish, even with water stations and slightly tiring, I knew I wanted to push right into the final few kilometers. 28th kilmoetre was 4:47, my fastest yet.

With 2K to go, I took a gut check and figured I could push it to the end. Ran my 29th in 4:50, then we joined up with the 15K runners and walkers.

By then, I just willed myself to get to the finish line soonest, even if it meant blasting by the 15Ks. The last kilometer did few very long, but I ended up doing it in 4:36.

So a finish of 2:31:21, which is actually the slowest Midsummer’s 30K I’ve done. I’ve really tried to kill this course, with a PB of 2:13 back in 2008 (and in my defence, that was during my BQ years), but with this training and condition, I’m loving this year’s result.

Results for the race here.

The best part of Midsummer’s is the post race beer tent. Caught up with a lot of runners and lots of geek talk about our fall marathon planning and training. Was tonne of fun and I can’t wait till next year’s edtion. They better get my 195K pin ready.

This year's A Midsummer Night's Run pin (165K) along with last year's.
Post-race BBQ and beer at A Midsummer Night's Run in Toronto, 2012.
Recovery beer at A Midsummer Night's Run.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

A look at the marathon field and Canada's chances at cracking top 25

Canadian marathoner Dylan Wykes says a top 25 finish would be his target, a top 10 a dream. People have high hopes for Ryan Hall but the coverage is focused on the Kenyan and Ethiopian athletes who are lining up Sunday for the men's Olympic marathon.

The IAAF released the start list of the 105 marathoners who will be racing in London, and it provides a very interesting snapshot. I took the list and sorted them by their personal best and 2012 best times. (SEE GOOGLE TABLE BELOW.)

On 'paper,' the coverage focusing on the Kenyan-Ethopian rivalry holds very much true. According to the personal-best times, the top six runners are indeed from the two countries, with fastest times from 2:03:42 to 2:05:04. Ryan Hall's best time, which coincidentally clocked in London, puts him as the seventh fastest by personal best times.

Of course, Ryan wasn't able to muster that type of performance at the Olympic trials, so it's a big unknown on whether he'll be in the form to match the type of running he did to stick with the top of the pack. (Note Ryan did that blistering 2:04:58 in Boston, but that doesn't count as a record because of the nature of the course.)

If you sort the field by their 2012 season best times, the top four are from Kenya and Ethiopia, and the U.S. runners Meb Keflezighi and Ryan fall to 18th and 19th.

On the Canadian end, the tough qualification standards we put our guys through actually put them in a good mid level position. Dylan's best time puts him at 39th out of 105 athletes while Reid Coolsaet is at 42 and Eric Gillis at 46. The Canadian runners aiming for top 25 finishes which seems very doable in the course of a race like this.

The Olympic marathon, unlike flat, cool and fast marathons in Berlin or Chicago, are not expected to produce anywhere near record times. Though those who would doubt the field only need to look at the stunning performances in Boston two years ago and in hot Beijing in 2008. Clearly, some runners are pushing the marathon way beyond what commentators expect. According to forecasts, the start time Sunday will be 22C and climb to 24C by 1 pm. The wind, at 15km, should be a small factor but also the winding looped course with tonnes of turns. With that weather, more than 8 to 10C higher than ideal cool fall conditions, I'd be excited but surprised if we saw anywhere close to record pace.

But with so many fast runners in the field, who knows.
Below: Click on tabs below to switch between PBs and 2012 times

Thursday, August 09, 2012

The mass appeal of marathoning

On Sunday, Eric Gillis, Reid Coolsaet and Dylan Wykes will be competing for Canada in the Olympic Marathon. It'll be a must-watch event not just to cheer on our first athletes to compete for Canada since 2000 in the event, but to see what actually unfolds on the streets of London (lots of turns) and if any dark horses emerge.

As I wrote earlier, I interviewed Dylan Wykes a few weeks ago. Here's a good portion of a story I wrote for HuffPost Canada today previewing the marathon and the sport of running.

-----

DYLAN WYKES’ ROAD to London began with a fall, at the start line with 7,000 runners behind him, his knees scraped and bloodied by the slip. Some two hours and 10 minutes later, he put the finishing touches on a searing performance in Rotterdam, the second fastest ever marathon time by a Canadian and a ticket to the Olympics.

Wykes, a Kingston, Ont. native now based in Vancouver, knows he has no logical chance to medal while representing Canada among a deeply talented field that is dominated by Kenyans and Ethiopians.

On Sunday morning, the event will get its big showcase. In these Games, perhaps more than any in the past, the marathon hits a cross road with a sport that’s experiencing a boom. Rightly so, as the marathon was an event created for the Olympics and the 26.2-mile route was forged on the streets of London more than a century ago. The Olympic marathon has historically closed the Games as one of the final events, with the winner entering a packed stadium to take their victory lap.

“It’s the biggest stage,” Wykes told HuffPost Canada as he was training at altitude in Switzerland before the Olympics. For Wykes, a top 25 performance is a goal, and a top 10 finish a dream. “There are guys who have run 2:04, there are guys who are six minutes faster [than his personal best].”
In the 16 years since Canada last sent a man to run the Olympic marathon, the sport has gone through a massive change, as a surge of popularity ushers in the next generation of runners.

A SPORT FINDS ITS LEGS

Since 1908, when Olympic organizers decided to add two kilometres to race course so that royalty could view the finish, the 42.2-kilometre marathon has become the modern everyperson’s Everest, the bucket list item that thousands upon thousands of men and women have now crossed off.
The word marathon has been synonymous with epic times, seeped into public consciousness, and applied to sedentary affairs like the airing of TV reruns, extended tennis matches or similarly drawn-out affairs, even as the marathon records continue to get faster.

In big-city marathons, where professional marathoners earn their money, the elites are joined by runners of all stripes, sizes and speeds. The biggest of them all bring in more than 45,000 runners. The most recent running boom, has seen women take on the sport (and racing) in massive, greying numbers. Last year, almost 14 million people participated in a road race in the United States, with 55 per cent of those finishers were women. Canada has experienced a similar boom, particularly in the half marathon.

Read the rest over at The Huffington Post Canada, Canada Olympic Marathon: Running Booms As Dylan Wykes, Eric Gillis And Reid Coolsaet To Compete Sunday

The Marathon begins Sunday at 11 a.m. London time or 6 a.m. ET.





Vegetarian and gluten free for running?

I like to think runners have habits that die hard. Take our nutrition. The runner in the midst of marathon training may alternate between hunger and and occasional bad-food binging.

When I'm prepping for a long distance race, I can easily plan three days of meals ahead, where simplicity is the goal and pasta, bagels and bananas (and also water and sodium) are the staple of my diet.

I recently interviewed Canadian Olympian marathoner Dylan Wykes on how he trains and fuels for performance. You may not know this, but Wykes is a vegetarian and has debated on whether he should go back to eating meat as an elite athlete.

See the interview with him here at Huffington Post Canada. He runs through some of the favourite foods he fuels with, including almond butter, quinoa and lentils.

What didn't make the piece I wrote was how he eats pre race (or what he'll be eating in a few days). Like others, he focuses on carb intake, probably rice or pasta, plua "a few vegetables." Wykes doesn't really concentrate on protein.

A typical day would look like

  • Breakfast: Toast, almond butter and banana
  • Post workout: Rice, pasta or quinoa
  • Lunch: Quinoa and bean salad
  • Dinner: Fake meat at times (ground or tofu) with pasta.

Many people I know are also trying to go gluten free and I've been toying with carb substitutes that are gluten free, which is hard when I can easily have all three meals with bread or pasta products. This past weekend, I made a quinoa salad with lentils, and R. surprisingly liked it, even while admitting that she hated the grainy texture of quinoa. By the next meal, we were having white rice and home made ma po tofo. I really can't imagine eliminating gluten as a way to get my carbs in.

Sunday, August 05, 2012

The pause

This summer marks the seventh straight that I've been prepping for fall marathons. Looking at the training graphs for the past few months, and activity on this blog, you'd think I've taken a hiatus.

Not so, but logging less than 50 miles in June (I took two weeks off to go to Asia) and 128 miles in July do not equal one of those monster months I've been accustomed to in years gone by.

I know the work that goes into that fall marathon, 300 miles once I piled into an August three years ago. The training schedule, once ingrained into your calendar, puts a sense of purpose into each day. Didn't get in the 7 mile tempo run? Your day would be ruined.

Looking at my daily schedule now, my runs take a priority -- I still schedule after-work commitments so I can 'get my run in', and look to build up the mileage by the time I reach Friday evening. Every weekend still has that purpose with the buildup to that long run on a Saturday or Sunday morning.

But the program, it's freeflowing, all in the head, my body's on a sort of autopilot built to train up to the endurance event.

The dividends are still there -- after a sweat soaked run, I still feel as spent as I'd experienced hundreds of times by now. Feeling that my body was pushed, that I was able to connect to my physical self.

But I don't measure progress in pace times now -- at least not this year. This year, other priorities manifest, and I no longer view marathon training as work. Work would take the love out of it, I guess, so in that vein, I view my training as a way of life.

Running my 20th marathon this spring was almost a more poignant moment in a way than qualifying for and running the Boston Marathon. After finishing No. 20, instead of what next, I took a longer view. I no longer thought about the next marathon but about how long I would run, period.

Do I get the itch to run? I still do, every day.

This morning, having not attempted a long run in a few weeks, I put in seven kilometres on Rock Creek Park before ducking back inside to view the finish of the women's marathon. Having cooled off, I weighed between staying in the comfortable apartment or heading back outside into the DC heatwave. Mind made, I refilled the bottles, stepped outside, regained the satellite signal, embraced the heat and hit the unpause button.

13.1 miles in 2:02

Saturday, August 04, 2012

No need to apologize, Paula Findlay

Guts are a key ingredient in the makeup of any athlete who meddles in endurance sports. Just stand at the final 400 metres of any marathon, major or small, and you'll see it on the salt-stained faces of finishers.

We like to celebrate during these Games those athletes who medal, those who stand on podiums and rack up medals. In defeat, in agony, however, you see the true display of sportsmanship and what it takes to push the body beyond limits.

Paula Findlay finished last in her Olympic debut today, and told the nation that she was "sorry." For any athlete who have felt the Wall, felt the race wasn't their day, that must be just a fraction of what she was going through. On her sport's biggest day, she must of felt the weight of her own expectations, let alone her nation's.

"I'm really sorry to everybody to Canada."

It was fellow Canadian triathlete Simon Whitfield who for me succinctly summed up what race day meant for his sport -- or any sport where preparation is the key. A few weeks after he ran that thrilling silver medal win in Beijing in 2008, he wrote:

"I felt like all I had to do was express my fitness, I wasn't hoping for miracles, simply expressing fitness earned through hard work," he wrote on a blog at the time.


Fitness is earned through hard work, and race day is an expression of all the preparation. These athletes don't go praying for a breakthrough performance, and even after the race Findlay said "I guess my fitness is not quite up there."

It wasn't Paula's day. And it could have been a day, where she would just have to stand off the course, and walk away from the race.

But she didn't.

One of the most unforgettable moments I'll always associate with the Olympics is the finish of Derek Redmond, a British runner who at the 1992 Games injured himself in the midst of competition. In severe pain and sadness, he hobbling to the finish, in front of tens of thousands.




Making it to the finish, forcing yourself to face the line, the cameras, when you don't have an ounce of energy left in you. That's guts and that's heart.

No need to apologize Paula. No need.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Canadian Marathoners Put A Stamp On London 2012?



It's been 12 years since Canada sent a marathoner to the Olympics. In less than three weeks, three of our compatriots will be toeing the start line.

I dug out a stamp collection, above, from the 1976 Olympics the other day. It was in Montreal where Canada's fastest marathoner in history, Jerome Drayton, finished sixth. His fastest time (2:10:09) was logged a year earlier and he won the Boston Marathon a year later. He was in that respect our greatest modern marathoner.

Anyways, the stamp made me think about the opportunity our three guys have to make some history, but more importantly, representing a nation that clearly has embraced running in our personal lives has something to be said.

I spoke to Dylan Wykes last week for a series of articles I'm writing for the Huffington Post Canada (look for them soon).

Couple things I learned:
  • He's training in Switzerland at altitude - just ran a 1:03:33 in Hamburg.
  • He does, like every runner I know, a reasonable and a dream goal. I'll share what they are in one of the articles
  • He's a vegetarian (wow!)
  • And yes, elite marathoners are human too: After the 30K mark, "it's a different beast, and there's always the element of the  unknown."
Oh yeah, where have I been in the last month. Maybe I should write a post on that, but the short version is a vacation from running for three weeks, and I'm ramping back up -- two marathons this fall.

Monday, June 04, 2012

Mayo Clinic On Marathons: Life or death?

Cross-posted at Huffington Post Canada

Legend is, the first marathoner was a man named Pheidippides, who in Ancient Greece was dispatched the distance from Marathon to Athens on foot announce victory.

“Rejoice, we conquer,” was the last words he uttered, legend has it, before dying.

I crossed the finish line of my 20th marathon a few weeks ago and while my fellow runners who ran the Ottawa Marathon saw the event as a celebration of life, others see danger and death.

The Mayo clinic’s latest research made a bit of a splash in the headlines when it warned that “chronic training” or competing in endurance events, including marathons, Iron Man races and like cycling rides can cause injury to the heart. This scarring and changes to the heart and arteries are the culprit.

The running world recently mourned the death of Micah True, who was profiled in the book Born To Run that chronicled his barefoot running and long-distance races held in the copper canyons in Mexico. Micah was an ultra runner who died from heart complications during a daily run in March. The Mayo Clinic points to True as a possible victim of endurance running.

The latest running boom may have brought with it it GPS watches, chia seeds, ultra-marathons and Spartan contests,  the sport of running has remained essentially the same, putting one foot in front of the other. While running is made up of simple movements, it may be hard to understand why endurance athletes decide to ‘go long’, even as the medical professionals tell you it can be bad for you.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the health spectrum, obesity rates in both the United States and Canada show that modern society has another type of crisis: In 2009 24.1 per cent of Canadians adults were obese, 34.4 per cent in the United States.

Those who invoke Micah True will no doubt remind themselves of the death of Jim Fixx in 1984, as the original reason why running was bad for you. Fixx, who wrote The Complete Book of Running, and others helped spark fitness, jogging and exercise as made popular by the masses. When he died of a heart attack while out on the daily run, all the more reason why running was bad for you.

The Mayo report does all the nods that all the good that exercise does for health, highly effective for treating “many common chronic diseases and improves cardiovascular heath an longevity.”

“However, as with any pharmacologic agent, a safe upper dose limit potentially exists, beyond which the adverse effects of physical exercise, such as musculoskeletal trauma and cardiovascular stress, may outweigh its benefits,” lead author of the report, James O’Keefe, writes.

Us marathoners have a saying, “respect the distance.” We mean it in that 42.2 kilometres or 26.2 miles is no task to take lightly. Most marathoners, and certainly repeat marathoners like myself, treat the marathon with the preparation anyone who needs to tackle a rigorous endurance event. Marathons are not bucket list events, nor are those of us who repeat the distance the famed ‘weekend warriors’ who sit sedentary for five days then go all out on Sunday mornings.

When you see a marathoner at the end of race, you must know that they’ve trained for up to four months of long distance training, and often years of running before that. We don’t go cold into the distance.

The marathon is still an exclusive event. Simply said, not everyone does it. At the Ottawa Marathon, some 40,000 plus runners participated, most of them in the 5K, 10K and half marathon and 4300 in the marathon. Last year in the United States, the number of marathon finishers jumped 46 per cent from 2000, some 518,000 people. If we were to believe that 78 million American adults are obese, there’s one group of people that should be more worried that another.

To put all this research into perspective, another recent study by John Hopkins researchers says .75 per 100,000 runners have died at marathons, making it a relatively low-risk event

A week after my last marathon, I signed up for my next race. To simply ask marathoners to give up training and races for short antiseptic exercises reveal the problem with how medical practitioners see fitness today, as if you can prescribe a run as you would a list of drugs or bottle up a fitness regimen that you can down in one gulp. Find me at fault, but I find my health out there in one to three hour tours, where I can disconnect from modern sedentary living and reconnect with natural movement.

Just this past weekend, South Africans watched with rapt attention as competitors finished the legendary Comardes ultramarathon, a race of 89 kilometres. At the 12-hour mark the gun goes off and every second after that marks the difference between finishers and those who have failed. Why do they run?

“Live to run, run to live.”

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Race report: Goodlife Toronto Marathon 2012

What is that old saying, that you can't run your next marathon until you forget your last one? I'm writing this race report on the Goodlife Toronto Marathon as I'm on a train to Ottawa, where I'm running another marathon three weeks after this one that I still remember.

While signing up for the Toronto Marathon was a late decision, I felt it was just about the right place in my training program. I had started ramping up marathon training in January so by the time I decided to sign up in April, more than three months of training were booked in.

Ottawa I felt would be non aggressive marathon given the quality of my training has been lacking and whether would always be the wildcard.

And who could avoid the temptation to continue a running streak, since I've run Toronto Goodlife from 2009-2011. This year's race route also seemed to be a little interesting, with changes throughout, including a new finish line that was flat (compared with the 'uphill' finish to Queen's Park). The earlier start time of 7:30 and, heck, the fact that a marathon is run in my hometown made it a no brainer.

The race
We started before the half marathoners, so it was not a busy start area, which was a nice change for a chill warmup for the start. Boston Bill Rogders was a guest emcee and was giving us tips on how to run marathons, which I thought was both cool and funny, cause hey, who wouldn't love a tip from one of the great marathoners but who would really need it if they've trained up the to distance. The weather, as he said, was near perfect. Slight wind, cool, compared to the hot Boston. In fact, a few Boston runners were doing Toronto as their make-up run.

The start I seeded myself near the 3:40 pace group, and we took a bit of work to separate ourselves. We were running faster than goal pace. The first bit leading up to Hogg's Hollow went by fast and I started to regret not putting on a singlet instead of my T-shirt, it was cool, but warm enough to go summer wear.

The big uphill, Hogg's Hollow, is not a fun sight in what is a net downhill course. I ran slightly ahead of the pace group because I wanted to get a potty break done at the top of the hill, just as I'd done in previous years. After I caught back up to them after the break, feeling, well, relieved, we went to work on what is my favourite part of the course, which starts on the turnoff near Davisville station.

As a guy who has paced a few half marathons, I have tremendous respect for anyone pulling off the job. I started to tail the group that had thinned a bit. The makeup of this group was very relaxed, and I'm assuming there were Ironman folks doing training, and others just going. The pacer looked at my pace band and said 'where'd you get that!' after I told him what splits I'd be looking for a 3:40. He was using his Nike Plus app, which I thought a little awkward to be proper pacing. A few minutes later, his phone rang (yes, he was wearing headphones) and took a call. Later found out he was a 3 hour marathoner who wasn't used to the pace. :)
Anyhow, I ran with the group right until the bottom of Casa Loma, when for some reason, the banter of one particually loud marthoner (who seemed to be doing a 'training run') got to me and I was feeling pretty good anways, so I paced a little faster.

Saw my buddy Peter who was going for a sub 3:40, but largely went out on my own, down to Rosedale Valley Road. Every year i've run down it, I feel like I hit a nice zone-out period in my race. It's one of the few totally shaded parts and the sheer vastness of the tree canopy makes it a highlight of the course.

Finishing it, and coming back toward downtown, we were again back on streets and in the sun. Ran into Peter and we paced together for a bit until he dropped back (and ended later a tough marathon).

From the half mark to the end, Goodlife becomes a little surreal to me, as it's my daily training route, and pretty much exactly on the same path. It's so comfortable that I can almost close my eyes for portions and anticipate rolls in the hills or curves to navigate. We also passed the finish line on the way out -- not a pretty sight but we did see the leading half marathoners come in.

Meanwhile, I was maintaining pretty consistent and strong splits. Because I wasn't pacing with a group, per se, I just went by feel and looking back at the splits I was maintaing a 5-10 second variance between kilometres. My fueling was happening at the right intervals, every 8K or so, and my extra water I brought with me proved useful for taking gels and occasional sips.

In my mind, I was seeing this as a 35K training run with the option to continue to race till the end. In my heart, when have I really resisted the urge to go with a good running pace. In reality, I took a pace that was probably well within my fitness (I'd assume I'm somewhere around 3:35 fitness these days). Reality and races collide and I found myself still going. At the most westerly point of the course, again still on home turf, I saw the turnaround and was so happy that it came earlier than I'd anticipated. As I turned, and started my way back, I could see all the runners behind me, including in the distance the 3:40 group.

I think at the moment, I though of them, the chatter and the fact that I had a few minutes on them. Screw it, I thought, lets just keep going.

Onn the way to the final 5K, I passed blogger Felix, who recognized me from this blog. He was telling me how his day wasn't unfolding the way he'd thought, and commented to me that I'm usually faster. I smiled as we parted, knowing that yes, I'm not really much faster these days, or at least training up to potential. He reminded me of what I can do in marathons and that helped spur me on.

But the breaks did come -- A little bit of tired leg syndome and also the 'holy crap, this is a marathon'. I took a few prescribed walk breaks to get my legs good and my cardio in a good place.

Still, by the time we reached the final kilometres, I had banked more than enough time to come in under 3:40, even enough time to savour the finish and get my legs ready for the next marathon.




As with all local races, I did bump into several friends, including Sam, who rocked the course after her bad Boston experience, and Lee and Julie, who were cheering on the runners. Lee and I were at the sidelines, watching the marathoners come in. My favourite thing to do is to stand in that final 500 metres and give a little bit of love back. My favourite cheer, 'lets go marathoners,' with the emphasis on MARATHONER. Love this sport, next one's coming up pronto.

Final time: 3:37:25


Splits
1 5:10.8
2 5:00.7
3 4:52.6
4 4:38.6
5 4:47.9
6 5:57.1
7 5:10.7
8 5:26.8
9 5:31.8
10 4:39.7
11 5:13.6
12 5:13.5
13 5:15.3
14 5:00.1
15 4:55.2
RESET :31.0
17 5:12.0
18 4:53.2
19 5:10.2
20 5:08.8
21 5:10.2
22 5:12.3
23 5:15.5
24 4:52.2
25 4:56.8
26 5:03.5
27 5:06.7
28 5:01.5
29 5:08.0
30 5:12.0
31 5:05.4
32 5:08.1
:36.4
33 5:04.6
34 5:05.9
35 5:09.4
36 5:06.2
37 4:54.2
38 5:02.9
39 5:06.5
40 5:25.5
41 5:17.2
42 5:17.2
43 1:11.9



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Race report: Sporting Life 10K 2012

I've watched this race grow over the past 8 years into somewhat of a Toronto tradition. With essentially free entry (the Sporting Life guys gave gift cards for those who registered). But 20,000 plus runners? Wow. (Sporting Life 10K results here / 2013 Sporting Life 10K race info here).

Last week's marathon left my legs in pretty good shape, I ran a few times over the week and even as I was thinking about this race that starts at Yonge and Eglinton and ends near my condo, I mulled a warmup run. So this morning, I ran up the route, logging around 9K uphill, getting the heart going, even beating runners who were waiting for buses to get them up to the route.



Even with a race with more than 20K, I spotted a few other runners I knew, including Fran, a co-worker and a friend who was doing his first race in eight years.



I placed myself in the sub 48-minute corral, really just aiming to go around 47. As the race started, my legs still felt good even with the 9K warmup, so I went looking for that 'comfortably hard' feeling I'd go for in tempo runs. The downhills helped the pace, and since I've run this route so many times (and part of it last week) I was anticipating every rise and fall.

Though it was a big race, I found that most runners around me were going slightly slower than I was, which meant a fair bit of weaving through the course.

Here are the first 5K splits: 4:38, 4:21, 4:21, 4:15, 4:18 for a 22:02 5K. There are quite a few big plunges downhill here, so I wasn't surprised by that speed. Also knew that I wanted to go faster than 4:30 kilometres.

Nothing much to write about the Sporting Life that I haven't said before: road conditions were okay, the downhills really give you great speed, and the only tricky parts in my opinion is to attack the hills and to up your cadence during the flats.

Doing so meant that I had the sensation of speeding up while maintaining pace.

By the 5K mark, I was in the comfortably hard zone, though I was starting to count down the kilometres, which was a sign I was pushing it just right. I never got that 'pain' that you associate with those distance races, but it was okay to fight through.

We turned to go west and I was finding myself boxed in several times. Mentally, it was a bit to urge some speed out of my legs but I ended up continue to pass people right up until the last kilometre.

Here are my satellite screwed last 5K splits: 4:11, 4:38, 4:27, 4:32, 3:42. They are obviously all off because I have a final 5K split of 21:24 which on any other day be a fantastic 5K!

Wheeled it into the end and coasted home. Almost an hour after the race started, I was walking into my condo. That's a morning well spent, 19K with 10K of speedwork and done by 9 a.m.!

Final chip time was 43:26, pretty much a good indicator of where I am one week post marathon and two weeks to go to my next.

Yes, I'm working on my Goodlife race report!


Saturday, May 05, 2012

The (unscheduled) Toronto Goodlife Marathon

I've been training since January. The miles have been hard to come by, work's been busy and it's been hard to do the mileage I'm used to. Fear not, me thinks, you've gone through this marathon business many times before.

My marathon at the end of the month is in Ottawa, where weather can do anything to the day. I was looking at my past long runs and saw I've logged enough 18 plus milers and two 20 milers (one three weeks ago) so I decided to pull the trigger



Yes, I've signed up for a 'last-minute' marathon. Not really interested in seeing how fast I can push myself, but taking it as a marathon that I'll be paying careful attention to saving a lot for the last 10K.

The Toronto Goodlife it is, in fact, it'll be my fourth marathon at that race in a row (and the race of my 2009 BQ).

I'm pretty excited and nervous to leap at the opportunity to do an unscheduled marathon. As many of you know, I've done multiple marathoning many times (three in four weeks, two in 8 days) but that was usually the intention of the training season. This time, we'll see how it goes. Training run it is. A long one.

Mississauga Marathon race strategy

Reader Stan was asking for a Mississauga Marathon strategy guide and since we’re about 12 hours to go to the race, I thought I’d oblige with some quick thoughts.



First, I’ve run the marathon there twice, and each time it was a different course at the end. It looks like this year is the same as 2009 when I ran it.

Course in general: It is generally exposed, some hills in the beginning and can be subject to wind since the last bit is on the water. In general, it is a net downhill course, so it is quite fast, especially for half marathoners. For marathoners, the flat and potentially windy (and soul damaging out and backs where you get so close to the finish, you can get a little defeated.

This race report sums up my 2009 version and you can see that I ran a negative split, partly because I was pacing a friend for the first 30 some odd kilometres then bumped it up at the end.

First 10K: You’re running from the city hall/Square One, and it’s a big crowd since you’re pacing with half marathons. I try never to go out too fast but it’s definitely possible to make that mistake. Heading west, you will have both inclines and downhills as you run on wide roads. The second half of the first 10K brings you down Mississauga Rd. which is a lot of fun to run but includes some killer hills that you should get ready for. Before you hit the big downhill followed by an uphill, you visit the U of T campus that’s a nice detour.

10K to half: You run another 5K or so with the half marathoners, then you turn around 15K. I enjoyed getting some peace and quiet when the crowd thins, and it’s a good time to get into the pace. You’re running in neighbourhood so the change in scenery going west is nice. Not much to note other than again when you start hitting south again it’ll be exposed to the sun and wind so plan and dress accordingly.

Half to 16 mile mark: Yep, this isn’t a fun part of the course. Some industrial land. You’ll start to see faster runners who are ahead of you as you hit the lone out-and-back portion of the race. While you should have plenty of energy to go, wind can be your enemy here.

16 miles to 20 miles: Slowly, you leave the industrial part and start heading back toward the finish. Wish it was a straight line but you got a lot of curves. There are hilly bits here and there so be prepared for small rollers. Nothing that will get you but if you haven’t prepared you should.

20 miles to the end: The final bit of the Mississagua Marathon combines running on Lakeshore, where you are running on a main street, running south into a few neighbourhoods. First things first, a lot of people hit the wall on Lakeshore around the 36K mark. They do so because there is a considerable incline. My tactic was always to run it strong and not let the course do me in. Good in a race like this to carry water or Gatorade with you as water stations are not exactly close together (good to check that). The final bit features a lot of running on winding paths, many of them really designed for everyday trail traffic, so it can be quite tight in there depending on when you finish. I've finished a marathon having to wind my way through half marathoners who were just finishing.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

The weekend warrior myth

Last night, I ate mostly carbs, hydrated and tried (and failed) to get to bed at a reasonable hour. I woke up when it was still dark to have my pre-long run breakfast, and a few hours later, I started my three-hour run. Ah, Friday nights and Saturday mornings in the Yumke household.

Twenty miles later, I continued on my weekend ritual, ending the morning in a state of exhaustion, but with purpose: that long run would pay me back when I run my next marathon down the road.

View of Toronto skyline from Humber Bridge, the middle of a long run
I really can't remember many weekend mornings when I slept in and later, coffee mug in hand, having breakfast while the morning ticked by. I have a vague idea that other people do this. For more than seven years, my weekends have been dominated by training. I'm not alone: Saturdays and Sundays, the trails are packed with other athletes.

So I don't identify with the phrase 'weekend warriors', a term some use to describe people who put real time to training. As one of the definitions of 'weekend warrior' goes, it's a person who spends a week at a 9-5 job (what's that?) and then turns to other passions in the weekend -- be that partying, rock climbing, Ironman training or long distance running.

Of course, those who write about us as weekend warriors must have little idea on what most of us go through day in, day out. You hear about it when people talk about weekend warrior injuries, or people who run road races on little training, or ah shucks, isn't it nice that Bob there runs races, nice he can spend weekends on that.

Truth is, most days of the week during marathon preparation, my thoughts inevitably go to how I'd fit in training with life. That goes for Monday through Friday, even with long work hours. Often, I'm scrambling to fit in training, dinner and unplugging into a four or five hour window on weekday evenings. Not fun at all. (And I don't have any dependents, how others do it is beyond me.)

I could just state that I spend time training during the week, but it's a little easier to just illustrate what that looks like. Since mid-2005, I've been tracking all my runs on SportsTracks and I spit out a handy little analysis of when I run. The beauty of analyzing more than six years or 20,000 kilometres (um, wow) of data is there is no way a few runs can skew the numbers. These numbers don't lie.

Looking at the chart above, it's obvious that Sundays are my preferred day to get my long runs in. I've put in a staggering 3384 miles out of the total 12285 miles in one day. But that doesn't mean that other days have suffered.

So I plotted all my runs into a spreadsheet to do a percentage look. Very interesting findings.



According to the chart above, my top three days of the week are Sunday (28%), Saturday (16%) and Tuesday (16%). Mondays are the lowest mileage of the week, at 7%, obviously from my recovery from the long run, but it's not too far off.

I've run a variety of training programs, but in the years when I did the Pfitzinger-Douglas program, I'd be running major mileage on Tuesday to Thursday, which is why you see Tuesdays rivalling Saturday. I'd remember those days when I'd be putting in 10 mile Wednesdays, or 12 mile Thursdays. Ouch.

The more interesting stat I liked was when I totalled all the weekday runs and compared it to the weekend. From Monday to Friday, I racked up 57% of my weekly mileage, 43% for the weekend. While that is no surprise to a runner who usually sees the long run be about a third of their weekly distance, but for those who like to label us as weekend warriors it may be an eyeopener.

I often get asked how many days a week I run. The answer is invariably "five or six." Weekend warrior? Not really.