Wednesday, October 27, 2010

It isn't walking if they don't see you doing it

I ran my first 5k race on Sunday on something of a whim. The Run Ajax Waterfront 5k is in my hometown, and I'd thought about running it earlier in the year, but I never got around to registering. Last Saturday, I took the train out to Oshawa to drop off my old bike for my daughter. It's a bit big for her, but only a bit. Then we went out to get a multi-tool, so we could adjust the seat and a couple other things, and a lock.

While we were at it, we stopped at the Running Room in Pickering. They were handing out the race bags and taking last-minute registrations, as I thought they might. I ended up with race bib No. 598.

While I was there, a picked up a pair of tights to replace the ones I'd quickly grabbed off the rack at Mountain Equipment Co-op the week before. I hadn't tried them on. As it turned out, I'd grabbed a women's medium.. I dunno, maybe I would have looked fabulous. And since I can't pass up a clearance rack, I also ended up with one of their Resolution Run jackets, last year's version, for half price. (The Resolution Run is a New Year's Day 5k the Running Room puts on in cities across the country. The jacket, which sells for $90 the rest of the year, is your gift for entering.)

And it's a good thing I did, too. It wasn't till later that the thought crossed my mind: In the event I was going to run this race, I had brought a pair of cotton shorts (all my Lycra was in the wash) and a cycling jersey. It never crossed my mind, until Saturday evening, that the weather might be rainy and cold in the early morning in late October.

And it was. Probably 6C when we got to Rotary Park. Okay, that's not so bad, but add cloud and wind and rain at 8:30 in the morning, and it's pretty uncomfortable. My dad drove  Sophie and I down to the lake. It was unfortunately early. I've never gone through the registration process for a race before, so I had no idea how simple it was. There was the start of a half-marathon walk at 8:30, followed by the start of the half-marathon run at nine. The 5k was a 9:30 start. My dad grumbled and read his Kindle in the car. Sophie and I went to the start line about 9 just to see how people took off.

The rain stopped about 10 minutes before my gun time, which was perfect. Five minutes before we took off, someone took to the stage to lead us in a warm-up. It looked like fun to my daughter (who despises running, like I did at her age). I just kinda shuffled from foot to foot. There was a guy wearing a cap that said "80 AND STILL RUNNING." I had a feeling he'd beat me.

And we were off. I'd positioned myself about two-thirds back in the back, where I figured a half-hour 5k might come in. The course began heading east, with a loop back to the west before continuing east along the lake shore. This gave me two waves from Sophie as I started.

In the first five minutes or so, I was passed more than I passed people at a ration of about three to one. This is discouraging. But as we wound along the path toward the turnaround mark, I was no longer being passed. I caught up with a number of people on the outward leg. (I paced myself behind a pair of very attractive young ladies for a while, and I'm sure it hurt my time. But you have to reserve some strength for the finish.)

I was probably at the 1.5-kilometre mark when the first runner passed me coming back the other way. I couldn't do the math at the time -- the only thing I could focus on by that point was my breathing -- but that would have meant he'd covered 3.5k in the time I'd covered 1.5k. There were only a few outliers like that, though. But by the time I got to about the 2k mark, there was a steady stream of people coming back the other way. (One of them was the 80-year-old; I figure he beat me by about four minutes.)

The course has long, rolling hills, for the most part not particularly steep. But there was one downhill on the way out that made me think, "Expletive deleted, I'm gonna have to climb that on the way back."

From 1.5k to the turnaround felt dreary, but at the turn, I felt much better. Then came the hill.

I don't know for sure, but I figure it's somewhere around 3.5k. I got to the bottom, had a quick look around, and saw no spectators. I can walk for 30 breaths, I figured. And I'll make 30 breaths last the length of this hill.

And the rest was a struggle. I was close to packing it up when I came back into the staring loop, but a spectator told me: "You got it beat now." Still, that last 500m was a test. Then I rounded the last corner into the home stretch and saw the time clock.

I can't describe the feeling. It's not just relief. There was no element of excitement. It's kind of like having wandered around in the woods for hours, with no idea where you are, and suddenly, you spy the parking lot you left from. I sprinted the last 75m. (I'm sure witnesses would tell you it was 50, but it's my blog.)

And not only was Sophie there at the finish, but my high school buddy Kevin. I'd called him the day before, since he'd mentioned he'd run a couple 10ks, to see if he'd registered. He hadn't, but he came down to catch the finish.

I figure I finished in about 30:35. I was 58th overall (out of 90-some-odd), 25th male. I have much of this information courtesy of my daughter, since I was wearing contact lenses and couldn't properly read the results page. Running Room hasn't posted the results yet.

I took advantage of the free massage afterward, which was probably a mistake. I hurt WAY more afterward than I did before. I should have just stretched. Well, I know for next time.

This does officially make me an endurance athlete. I have raced. I want to do the Resolution Run this year, but I'm not sure where. I'm not sure where I'll be for New Years', and the Toronto run starts at 9:30, whereas the Whitby run starts at a more civilized 12 noon. The jacket is kinda orange this year (last year's one, the one I picked up in the clearance rack, is green). I could see myself getting into the habit of collecting them.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

It's a Cannondale

Great news on the my new baby front: It's a Cannondale, about 22 pounds, white and black with red trim.

Another way of saying the Toronto International Bicycle Show (Fall Blowout Version) was this Saturday. I had been prepping for this for at least two months. I'd researched brands and models out the wazoo. But the more I researched, the more I realized: The model I want, even if I've only narrowed it down to about eight, is not going to be there. What you want is a nice aluminum frame, carbon fork, and the rest you can upgrade.

I'd promised to hold a place in line for Kathleen and Beryl at the show, but my buddy Paolo, whom I've known since we were five, dropped in and I misbehaved somewhat the night before. Kathleen actually got there first, probably about an hour before the show opened. We were about 200th in line.

I had planned my assault on the show, mapped it out. But when the doors opened, I did what everybody else did. Hustle in, very business like. Stop, intimidated by the scale of the venture. Wander aimlessly for a few moments. Then, go back to pretending you had a plan.

I think I bounced along pretty efficiently, ruling out shops quickly. The inventory they're blowing out is often unpurchased because it's higher-end than your average failed triathlete might be looking at, and a general rule of these shows is: The more you're willing to spend, the bigger the discount you'll get. A bike with an MSRP of $3,200 on sale for $2,400 is still $1,400 over my budget.

I settled on a Cannondale CAAD 8, mostly for the frame. It felt right. The drive train is nothing to write home about, Shimano whatever, but Peter from Pedal Performance assured me that an upgrade wouldn't be horrifically expensive when the time came. (I'm not giving numbers because there was an element of bike-shop-guy confidentiality. I will, however, reveal this: Do the fall show for bikes, but do the spring show for accessories.)

It's lightish at 22 pounds -- a new wheel set and drive train will take a little off that -- and it just plain feels good. Checked out a Specialized Secteur, a bit more expensive but with a better drive train, but I just didn't feel as good with the frame.

(Kathleen got a Trek, after wrestling with a number of colour schemes and some geometries that just didn't look right. She's also difficult to fit, to be fair, with a long torso.)

The next day, I spent a good hour in the courtyard of my building, practicing clipping in and clipping out with cleats. I've never ridden cleated to a bike before, and it's a little intimidating when you're slowing to a stop and you can't get your feet out of the pedals. I'm okay with that now, though it isn't the most graceful thing, and I'm still not going to be found in heavy traffic till I'm more used to it.

I've swapped the aero bars over, and I'm going to need a fitting. I'm hoping the PP folk will give me at least a 30-day tuneup, once the bolts and cables and such stretch out. Maybe a fitting while I'm there? probably a good idea.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Happy Trails

Had to travel on business to Vancouver last week. Since I've got a couple of friends who've moved out there in the last six or eight months, I extended the trip a couple days to catch up. I also designated the week a "recovery" week. Well, I recovered in epic style, going from nine workouts the previous two weeks to ... three.

One of those workouts, though, was a trail run in Lynn Canyon Park in North Vancouver. The weather was glorious; so good, in fact, that on the Friday night, I'd slept on Dale's 14th storey balcony in Yaletown. (I woke up at six on the morning remembering I'm terrified of balconies. Yes, I'm afraid there was some drinking involved.)

Dale and I did breakfast at The Tomahawk, a greasy spoon in North Van that does Yukon-style bacon and feeds you like it's a Denny's. Then we went off to the park for a run.

I'd not gone for a proper trail run before, largely because there aren't proper trails in Toronto. This one started with a walk across a suspension bridge about 50 metres over the river and canyon. I stopped in the middle to revel in the awesomeness of it all. ("I cannot deny the snazzy of this," were my exact words.) Then there were stairs of hewn wood, lots of climbs, lots of descents, fallen trees to hurdle (okay, climb over) and dogs that had been rolling around in the mud. We ran for about half an hour, and I kept up with the punk. Not bad, since he's 10 years younger than me. I even outsprinted him the last 50 yards, though, to be honest, I don't think he knew we were racing.

It was easier on my knees than lap running, with a much softer landing. The scenery was compelling, though for the most part I kept my eyes on the trail ahead -- there were lots of impediments and, in general, crap that could kill you if you didn't see it coming, or at least twist an ankle nicely. In half an hour, I'm sure we covered at least 5k, if you factor in the changes in altitude.

I also hurt in different places than I do after a lap or street run. It didn't help, I'm sure, that I didn't have my foam roller to tease out my IT bands, etc., but it definitely works different muscles.

Now, I have to find some half-decent trail to run in Toronto. Any suggestions? It won't be Lynn Canyon, I'm sure, but there has to be some trails worth running.