Today was the Vancouver Sun Run. The last time I did it, pre-pandemic, I had a time of 40:12. I really wanted to be able to beat 40 minutes. So I did everything I could think of to help: I used completely fresh new shoes; I had done easy runs for the previous week; I ate a gel before the run. Hindering me was that a few days ago, my lower back muscles had decided to get cranky. They felt okay this morning, but not perfect. But this is the day I had decided to do the run.
I had a choice of what day to do it, because this year the run is virtual. I have a two week period where I have to run 10km for it. Considering that I run 12.5km at a minimum every day, the distance wasn’t the problem.
I did a 3km warmup to the Inukshuk where I had decided to start. It felt appropriate, since it was on the finisher medal. I know this because I got the medal yesterday. It makes sense to have it part of the race package, but it feels wrong.
In any case, that is where I started. There were a few other people that had finished their run there, celebrating. They had done the reverse of my route plan along the Seawall, and agreed it was a good way to go. Staying at sea level the entire time would practically guarantee no hills.
I started off well, keeping under four minutes per kilometre. The path was generally clear, but I did yell “Passing!” if it looked like people would block me. (I’m talking to you, Dad who was chasing his daughters chaotically all over the place; keep it off the Seawall!) Generally people were understanding as I was wearing the race shirt. I also saw others walking in the race shirt, so I wasn’t alone.
At about the halfway mark though I could feel my legs getting tired. It was harder to keep up the pace I needed. By the end, I didn’t have the gas to keep pushing. I finished with a time of 40:24. So I missed my goal by 25 seconds. I like to believe I could have done better if there had been other competitors and a cheering crowd.
The end was actually depressing. After killing myself to finish, there was nothing waiting for me. No one was there to comfort me, or provide sustenance. I was alone on a quiet part of Coal Harbour. My legs were aching more than they have in a long time. I had a slow walk home, of about 2.5 km, up a hill. I did call my wife, who is stuck in Texas, but that isn’t the same.
Since I have a two week period to do this race, I wonder if I could attempt it again and try for a better time? I’m going to visit my parents in a week; I’ll admit I’ve been looking at Alberta topography maps to see if there is a 10km route that is all downhill from the mountains. Although Moose Mountain might be too steep with a drop of 500 metres.
I am feeling now that I should not do virtual speed races anymore; there is no solidarity, or cathartic release when you get to the end. Now excuse me while I go sign up for the virtual race across Tennessee. (Not a speed race! Just distance.)