Book Release! Dare to Run: Marathon Training While Navigating Life With a Toddler and Managing Chronic Pain

 

When I started training for my first marathon, I looked for books to read about other women's experiences of beginning running at an older age while trying to raise a family. What I found were a lot of books about elite runners and some books about men's journey into running. But I found few books about the average woman trying to fit running into everyday life. 

I decided then that I would write about my own experience training for my first marathon at age 45 while dealing with the everyday ups and downs of life and Dare to Run was the result. 

Here is the backpage blurb:

The last time Catherine had gone for a run was in grade school more than twenty-five years ago. She was forty when she began running again to do something active with her wife. It wasn’t easy, especially when she was dealing with chronic pain. But with slow, steady training, she worked her way up to five- then ten-kilometre distances. After the couple adopted a baby girl, Catherine purchased a running stroller so she could continue running with their daughter.

In Dare to Run, Catherine takes her readers on a journey of raising a child who was born six weeks premature with neonatal abstinence syndrome while renovating the family home, dealing with chronic pain, and training for her first half marathon and then first full marathon. Throughout, she describes the training ups and downs on the streets and trails of Toronto and her experiences racing while facing the random adventures life can bring.

The journey includes some trials, and plenty of tantrums, but mostly fun as mother and child discover new things together. 

If you wish to read my book, please click on one of the following links:

Dare to Run Kindle Link

Dare to Run Kobo Link

If you enjoyed reading Dare to Run, please consider leaving a review. Thank You!

Toronto Women’s Live 5 km Race

Just 6 days after racing the Waterfront Toronto 10km, I found myself at the start line in the Wilket Creek parking lot, just north of Eglington, getting ready to race the Toronto Women’s 5km race. I was in the first corral with the elite athletes (one of which I am not), trying not to be intimidated. Trish, Cilla and I had arrived early, so I had a chance to warm up and get myself situated. It was cold but the winds from Sunday had died down and the air was still.

 

This was my first 5 km race ever. I’ve run charity runs that distance, but when I started racing 9 years ago, I forwent the shorter distances in order to run the longer distances.  I enjoy the full experience of racing and with the 5km being so short, it feels like it’s over before we even started. But with limited in-person races, I was glad to race any distance.

We were given a countdown and then the first 2 runners were released. I was up next with another runner and I took a deep breath in anticipation. After a few seconds we were released, and I ripped my mask off and crumpled it in my right hand, having nowhere else to put it and held it the whole run. As I ran, I watched the faster runners overtake me. I couldn’t even imagine the pace these women must have been running. It amazes me how fast some people can run—I can’t even imagine being able to maintain a 3 or 4 minute pace. I have to work hard just keeping the pace I do.

 

We travelled south on the trail, looped around another parking lot just before the Bailey footpath bridge and made our way back. The course was slightly different than previous years to avoid the narrower parts of the trails that would make it impossible to distance ourselves from other runners.

 

My first kilometre was at a pace of 4:42/km, the fastest kilometre of my race. After that I slowed down and was able to hold my pace around 4:55, sometimes slightly faster or slower.

 

The last half kilometre was tough. My body had started seizing up and I was having trouble with maintaining a smooth gait. Trish said she was really concerned when she saw me running toward the finish line. She said it looked like I must have really been hurting. Because I have arthritis in my SI joints and spine, my balance and equilibrium are sometimes off. I can be walking and then fall over—I’m sure people think I’ve been in the bottle. Because I was really pushing myself out there I was putting extra stress on my joints and the muscles and tendons surrounding were spasming, which totally destroyed my gait.

 

But even with my somewhat maniacal run I managed to beat the time I set for myself of 25 minutes. My time was 24:43, my pace was 4:56/ km and I was 7th out of 30 in my age category and 39/207 overall. Madelaine Kelly, an 800m Olympian (who represented Canada at the Toyko games this summer), won the race with a time of 17:17 and Sasha Gollish, finished 2nd with a time of 17:29. Somerset Jarvis finished third in a time of 18:15. 

 

 

Toronto Waterfront 10 km Race Recap

It’s been 2 long years…of virtual races, virtual challenges, virtual school, virtual piano teaching, virtual appointments, virtual, virtual, virtual. But life is slowly getting back to normal: Cilla is back at school and ballet class; I’m teaching more in-person piano lessons and; I ran my first in-person race on Sunday October 17th, the first in two years! The last race I ran before everything shut down was the 2019 Waterfront Half Marathon. The world was a different place then, and we certainly took for granted the freedoms we had with our health, work and social lives. Over the last 2 years I’ve come to appreciate all the little things I may have overlooked before.   

10 km was the only live option they were offering this year, but I would have happily signed my name to any distance, so excited I was at participating in a live race.  

I spent the last 2 months following a race plan with the hope that between all the intervals, hill repeats and fartleks I would be able to run 10 kilometres in 50 minutes at an average pace of 5:00/km. This was a pretty ambitious goal though and, in all honesty, a 5:15 pace was a lot more realistic. At 48, the aches and pains are definitely more pronounced, reminding my body that I’m not 20 anymore and speed is not as easy to come by. But I like to dream big.

The night before the race Trish made a great pasta dinner, a much-appreciated pre-race tradition.  I slept fairly well, but woke up at 5am, one hour before my alarm went off, and just stared at the ceiling until it was time to get up. After feeding the cats and turning the coffee on, I had a nice hot shower to warm up my joints. I got Cilla up at 6:30 am and then woke Trish up at 7 am. We were leaving together at 7:30 am.

The race was on Lakeshore Boulevard, and we parked at Exhibition stadium. Everyone and their dog was parking there so I was glad we left with ample time to spare because parking took a long time.

It was cold outside, and I was quite chilly in my shorts and tank top. Overtop I wore a sweater that I could peel off just before the start and leave it in the bin for donations toward diabetes. We headed to the Vaccine Verification Tent where I showed proof of having a double jab, and as a reward they placed a sticker on my race bib.  We were not allowed to race if we weren’t vaccinated. We also had to fill in an online health screening form before we arrived and we had to wear masks in all areas, including the start and finish lines, but we didn’t have to wear it on the course. To simplify things the race directors had created a 4-page participation handbook describing everything we needed to know about race day. I had printed it off and studied all week to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

Once we decided on a meeting place, I kissed Cilla and Trish goodbye and headed to the staging area where they weren’t allowed to go. There was a staggered start from 8am to 11:30 am and depending on your finish time you were assigned a time range. The Canadian 10k Championships were held concurrently and these runners were running at 8 am. Leslie Sexton, of Markham was first women with the time of 32:04 and Ben Flanagan of Kitchener, won in the men’s national race with the time of 28:41.

My scheduled race time was between 8:40 am and 9 am and I wasn’t allowed to enter the staging area until it was 8:40 am. I warmed up just outside the staging area, then headed into the area at precisely 8:40 am. From there we had to stand at an orange cone placed six feet apart while we waited for a marshal to lead us to the start line.

We didn’t have to wait long before about 100 of us were herded to where the announcers made playful banter and reminded us to check our laces several times. I’m not sure if it was because they were grasping at things to say, or whether something happened in one of the earlier corrals to warrant the warning.  I can only imagine how tired they would get from having to do this 50 times.

If you’ve participated in this race before covid, it’s not hard to find the differences that the impact of the virus has made. Usually this event would have about 25,000 runners from different countries and we would literally be wall-to-wall runners. With only 100 runners leaving at a time, it gave the feel of a much smaller race. But no one seemed to care. We were all happy to have this small piece of normalcy back in our lives.

We had our countdown and for the life of me I can’t remember whether we had a starter’s pistol or not, but we all left regardless, each of us alone in our thoughts, but united by our collective goal: to reach the finish line.  We pressed forward on our journey west, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that my ambitious goal of a 5:00/km was an impossibility. The winds were so strong, at 40 km/hour that for the first kilometre I could barely hit 5:04/km. And it would only get worse. As the kilometres ticked by, I slowly saw my 50-minute time grow wings and fly away as my pace slowed with each kilometre until I was running at 5:30/km by kilometre 5.

But it was hard to be upset seeing all the people there encouraging us on with signs and friendly cheers. Previously I would have given high-fives, but knowing I couldn’t touch anyone, I just waved and smiled instead. It was amazing to be back with so many people who share the same passion.

Just before the 5 kilometre mark we made a hairpin turn near Ellis Ave. and I could feel the difference immediately. Where before the strong headwinds were pushing us back they were now pushing us toward the finish line. My pace picked up and I was now able to maintain a 5:12/km pace for the next 2 kilometres. I was listening to music and I felt so good I started singing along, not caring who could hear my off-pitch crooning. I wanted to bask in this moment forever.

At kilometre 8, my pace slowed once again to 5:17/km pace as I climbed the overpass just outside the legion. The hill was long and steep, but I actually enjoy the challenge of climbing, so it was less suffer-fest and more fun-fest. Let’s face it—I’m an Aries and I enjoy ramming my way through various situations. It also gave different muscles a chance to do their share of the work. I passed a few other runners who clearly did not have the same love of hills that I had, and I could see them struggling.

When I reached kilometre 9, I dug in and pushed hard once again knowing that I only had 1 km left to the finish line. I had turned my music off so that I could hear the crowd cheering and I scanned the numerous faces of the crowd in search of the most important spectators—my wife and daughter. At last I saw them, shouting and cheering right before I crossed the finish line. I was given a finish medal along with a very enthusiastic “welcome back” message from the volunteer. I told her I was glad to be back and thanked her for volunteering.

I finished in 52:59 with an average pace of 5:17/km and 27th out of 216 runners in my age category. Not quite the time I’d hoped for, but I certainly couldn’t complain as I felt I put everything out there. After I changed and made myself somewhat presentable, we headed to our favourite greasy spoon and celebrated over brunch.

And we had lots to celebrate! A simple thing like running in a race, which was once something that was just as easy as signing your name and throwing money at it, became something that was forbidden. It became unsafe. Running in this race was not just about personal bests and being able to be with other runners again doing what we all enjoy so much. It was so much more. It was about celebrating things that we have once taken for granted—being with family and friends, going to work, our kids going to school and participating in extra-curricular activities, going on vacation, walking down the street without avoiding people. For me this is just the beginning of good things to come, and I intended to hold on this moment so that I will never take for granted the important things in my life again.

  

 

 

 

Toronto Beaches 2021 Modified "Live" Jazz Run

 

I’ll be so happy when the day comes that I no longer have to write the word “virtual” before the name of a race. While that day isn’t today, on Sunday July 25th I got to experience the closest thing to a live race since 2019. The Toronto Beaches 2021 Jazz Run was offering a modified “live” event and we were able to get together (in no more than groups of 20) to run a timed race in Tommy Thompson Park.

When I arrived, there was a small table set up at the foot of Leslie Street near the park where I signed a waiver and had a timing chip affixed to the back of my race bib. Afterwards I crossed the road to the Martin Goodman Trail where the race would start. There was no mass start, just people meandering over whenever they were ready to start.  This was an unsupported run which meant there would be no marshals, aid stations or medical personnel out there.

I did my usual prerace ritual of mostly butt kicks, knee raises and a few leg swings before I considered myself good to go. Beforehand I had talked with the race director about what route to run. The goal of this race was to run in the same vicinity, and around the same time as the other runners to create the feel of a live event. He suggested to run along the MGT trail, into Tommy Thompson Park from the west entrance, then turn around when I reached 5.28k and come back the same way (and then repeat that).

When the clock said 7:30 am I stepped up to the timing mat and set off for my 21.1 km journey. At about a half kilometre I came across a little cheering section where they were calling out supportive words, ringing a cowbell (‘cause you can never have too much cowbell) and taking pics. It was a great feeling.

My first kilometre was quite fast from the built-up of adrenaline, and I had to slow down for fear of blowing up before I even started. I missed the pace bunnies and while I did see a couple of real bunnies on the trail, they were useless pacers. They ran with me for a bit, and then scampered off into the brush, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t want me to follow them.

As I was running, I could see what looked like a backpack up ahead on the path. I assumed it belonged to the man who was taking pictures but thought it strange he would just leave it lying in the middle of the path. It was only when I got closer that I realized it was actually a rather large turtle. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, and in fact he seemed quite content to just stay there while people ran around him or stopped to take pictures.  He was still there when I ran back the other direction. Further up the trail I saw a young coyote cross the road, and later an American mink peeked out from behind a rock.

The first 5km felt good, but then it started to quicky go downhill. I was fighting stomach cramps and running in the heat zapped a lot of my energy and made it almost impossible to keep a quick pace. It was 29 degrees with 83% humidity, and it wasn’t long before I was absolutely soaked through with sweat. It looked like I went for a swim, and boy did the lake ever look invigorating. I kept brushing myself against the foliage on the side of the trail because it was covered in cool water from the rain we had last night and it helped to cool me down.

My right ankle was niggling a bit—something it does often on runs. I hadn’t realized but I had completely worn out my old shoes and they offered little or no protection from the constant pounding. I was caught in a bit of a dilemma—do I run with my old, worn-out battered shoes that would kill my feet, or do I run in a new pair that weren’t broken in yet. I opted for the latter as I figured I was better to run with shoes that at least would offer my feet support and hopefully wouldn’t give me blisters. But on the upside they were bright pink.  

The last 10 kilometres were brutal. I was still having a really hard time with the heat and humidity and just couldn’t seem to find a comfortable pace. I had slowed down so much that I no longer was even concerned with what my race time would be, and I decided to just enjoy being out with the other runners. There were so many friendly faces, offering a wave or a smile in response to my greeting. Everyone seemed so excited to be out there.

I had tunes that kept me moving, or at least I did until near the end of the race. With 4 kilometres left to go my headphones died. I had been having trouble with them lately and even brought a spare. I stopped to sort myself out and unfortunately the substitute headphones only lasted one song before they too died. So, I ran the last 3 kilometres without music, which really wasn’t a bad thing.  

The cheering squad that was situated a half kilometre from the end had grown and there were now many enthusiastic people cheering us on, yelling encouraging, motivating words. It was wonderful. As I got closer to the finish line, I could see Trish and Cilla cheering along with a group of people. Once I crossed the finish line I couldn’t stop though. I had to walk for a bit because I was hot and dizzy, and I risked passing out if I stopped. They walked with me and Cilla, with her endless support said, “you ran good mama!”

On the one hand this was by far the worst race I have ever had. My overall time was 2:09 with an average pace of 6:04/km. Even Garmin wasn’t impressed with my results and labelled my run as ‘unproductive.’ But on the other hand, it was one of my best races ever because the folks at BRC gave us something we desperately needed: hope. This race gave us the opportunity to be with other runners who share a love of this sport, and we were given a chance to celebrate that. Soon we will be able to rid of the word ‘virtual’ forever, and this gave us a reason to believe it will happen sooner than later. And because of that it was the best race ever!

 

2021 K-Town Virtual Duathlon July 11, 2021

 

Run 4 km

While PJ Harvey was wailing about the atrocities of war in Let England Shake, I could hear an annoying high-pitched whistling in counterpoint.  At first I was puzzled as to where it was coming from, but then I realized it was coming from me. It’s not very often that I wheeze while running, but of course it would happen today. I coughed to clear the mucus, but the whistling remained. I coughed again, with the same result. I checked my heart rate which was at about 160 bpm, perfectly normal (for me). So that meant my bronchial tubes were probably swollen and there wasn’t anything I could do about that now without my inhaler. So I just kept running and hoped it wouldn’t get worse.

As I passed a few people, I could see them looking at me strangely, obviously hearing me wheeze.  I just smiled and waved. Nothing to see here.

I was on the first leg of the K-Town Duathlon and was hoping to complete the 4 km run with a 5:05 km pace and for the first 2 kilometres I did just that, wheezing an all. But by the 3rd kilometre, the constant feeling of breathing through a straw was my undoing and my pace dropped to 5:25/km. After a kilometre at a slower pace I was able to pick up my pace again, but not enough to make up the difference. I ended up with a 5:15 km pace.

I arrived home absolutely drenched and dripping in sweat. Although the temperature was only 20 degrees and overcast, there was 80% humidity and I felt like a wet rag in need of a wringing out.

 

Bike 30 km

Cilla was waiting for my arrival with my cycling gear on the deck and took pictures as I got ready. With my breathing more-or-less under control I headed out for the bike portion. This leg was only 30km, which meant it was really more of a sprint pace. Unfortunately my strength is endurance, not speed.

 

I went down Woodbine Ave, enjoying the fast descent, then continued onto Lakeshore Blvd where I got to ride on the eastbound traffic lane. I stretched out my legs and flew on the flat roadway, passing other slower riders out for a casual lazy Sunday ride. I turned left onto Martin Goodman Trail, and weaved around the tight-blind corners with equal caution and exhilaration. I was riding at a good pace—about 33 km/hour, right on target to hit my 30km pace I set as a goal. Once I reached Cherry Beach, I turned around and retraced my steps back to Lakeshore Blvd. where I picked up the entrance to the Lower Don Trail. This trail was not as easy to keep a quick pace. The exposed tree roots made me feel as if I was mogul training and it was impossible to keep a quick pace for fear of flying right off my bike. Most of the trail was like this and with the bridge crossings and numerous people out for a stroll it was tough to keep pace. Just after reaching the forks of the Don, I went under the overpass where I came upon a huge pool of water where the river had flooded the road. The only way forward was to go through it. The water was brown and murky and it was only when I was in it that I realized how deep it was. The water went halfway up the wheels and it was cold, smelly and I was drenched within seconds.

 

As I continued forward I could feel the water sloshing around in my shoes. I only had about 3 kilometres left and soon came to the exit out of the valley. Just as I was ascending the hill a kid about 5 or 6 years old was walking down. As he got closer I looked at him and smiled. He returned my look with a hint of mischief in his eyes and before I new it he had thrown the walnut he had in his hand in my direction, clearly with the intention of striking me. Luckily his aim was off and it fell a couple feet in front of me. Roger Clemens, he’s not.

 

I arrived home feeling great but was a little disappointed that I didn’t achieve my 30km/hr pace. I was a little slower at 28.2 km/hr. Cilla was ready to help again and after a quick change of shoes and towelling off I was ready to hit the road again for my last leg.

 

I would have much preferred to have done the longer run first and the shorter run last, but this just adds another challenge to the race.

 

7.2 km run

 

I hit Taylor creek again for the 3rd time that day and luckily my breathing was in better control than it was earlier. My first kilometre was rather promising at a 5.09/km pace but it soon slowed to a more manageable pace of 5:24/km.

 

The trail was much busier now with many families going on bike rides and picnics and walks. I dodged in and around them, making space where I could pass. There were a few other regular runners and we exchanged greetings. As I tired, I tried to focus on my music for inspiration to keep me moving. Stiffness was settling in and it felt like I was being held back with an invisible rope and no matter how hard I pushed forward, my legs just couldn’t respond. My pace slowed a little more and I arrived home with a 5:26/km pace.

 

In total, the duathlon took me 2:04:14. Not as fast as I expected, but I was still happy with my results. It was a great experience, and it gave me a little taste of how I would fair in a live race.

 

 

2021 Lakeside Virtual International Distance Duathlon

When I woke up at 5:30 am on Sunday morning I had a nagging suspicion that I was supposed to get up for something. I was about to turn over and go back to sleep when I remembered: it was race day. Last month when I started cycling again, I thought it might be fun to sign up for a duathlon as a way to combine both my love of running and cycling. I have never done this type of race before since I’ve never practised both sports at the same time. The format for a duathlon is run-bike-run, meaning you start with a run, then transition to the bike, then transition back to running again.  With there still no in-person races I registered for the Lakeside Virtual International Distance Duathlon. I would be completing a 10 km run followed by a 40 km bike and finishing with a 5km run.

 

As I lay in bed I listened for raindrops on the roof. Not hearing any, I relaxed and rested until 5:55 am, and then slowly extricated myself from under the covers. I was stiff and sore from the 3 hours of weeding the day before and I wasn’t sure how well my joints were going to comply with the physical exertion that lay ahead of me. But I was going to have fun.

 

Flynnie and Mali (our cats) were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs and headbutted any part of my body they could make contact with. I spent a few minutes cuddling with them and then fed them their breakfast. Cilla was still fast asleep in her bedroom and probably wouldn’t wake up until I came back. I put some coffee on and dressed, liberally lathering myself with sunscreen while waiting for the coffee to brew. Yesterday I forgot to put on sunscreen and I paid for it dearly with a bright red burn on my back of which I could still feel the heat radiating from.

 

10 Km Run

I left just after 6:30 am with the plan of running an out and back route along the Taylor Creek Trail and then the Lower Don Trail.  It was a gorgeous morning-- hot, but without the suffocating humidity we’d been dealing with for the past week.  It was forecasting 40 percent chance of rain, but so far there were no rain clouds in the sky.

 

When I descended into the valley a strong scent of skunk permeated my senses. There’s been a really strong, intense smell here all week—to the point it’s made me gag. I’m not sure what’s causing the skunks to be so smelly now. Perhaps there are some kits living nearby who are extra zealous about using their weapon.

 

There was hardly a soul about, which was a nice change from the usual crowdedness, and I enjoyed the solitude while I could. My first 5 kilometres were at a good pace of 5:23 per/km, but I realized I might not be able to sustain this and do well on the other 2 legs. With this being my first duathlon, I wasn’t sure how fast to pace my first run. My legs were fresh and I was feeling pretty strong, but with there still being a bike and run coming up, I didn’t want to burn myself out.  I slowed my pace to a more conservative speed, hoping to leave something in the tank for the other 2 events.

 

As I headed into the Lower Don Trail there was a lovely scent of lilacs, clover and wild flowers. A baby bunny was hopping about on the side of the trail and we kept each other company until he disappeared into the brush. I turned around at kilometre 5 and headed back to Taylor Creek. There were a few more people about now and unfortunately the foul-smelling musk of skunk was still radiating the area.

 

I completed my 10 km run in the time of 55:24 with an average pace of 5:32/km.

 

Transition 1

I entered Transition 1 (my backyard) to grab my bike and change into my cycling shoes and helmet. Since we weren’t counting our transition times, I didn’t rush to get ready. I used the washroom, drank some water and ate a gel.  Cilla and Trish were both just getting up and I kissed them goodbye as I headed out for my ride.

 

40 Km Ride

 

At the end of my driveway I saddled up and headed toward Woodbine Ave where I travelled south to Lakeshore Blvd. Bike lanes were installed in 2017 along Woodbine Ave which largely pissed off drivers to the point where the city threatened to remove them (unfortunately the bike lanes, not the cars). As a cyclist it’s a bit demoralizing when the cars don’t want you on the roads and the pedestrians don’t want you on the trails. You don’t ever feel wanted anywhere.

 

I was wearing tri-shorts for the first time— I wasn’t able to test them out ahead of time because they only arrived Friday. I was worried I would find them uncomfortable on the bike as there is less padding than regular cycling shorts. Because you don’t want to change between legs, tri-shorts are more versatile and allow for easier running with less chaffing and less fluid retention in the pad so that you can run in them without feeling like you have a huge diaper on. But how would they feel while I was on the bike? As it turns out they were very comfortable for both riding and running.

 

A small section of Woodbine is downhill and I got to fly. I pedalled hard, then tucked myself in, lowering my upper body and relaxing my arms. I quickly came to Lakeshore Blvd where I merged onto the eastbound lane. On the weekends the eastbound lanes are closed to vehicular traffic and open for cyclists and pedestrians to use while being able to maintain physical distance due to Covid-19. The road was flat and with 2 free lanes I could break loose, not worrying about dodging cars or pedestrians.  I felt free.

 

When I got to the Canadian Tire on the corner, I turned left to connect with the Martin Goodman Trail. Unfortunately this trail is very popular and there was a lot of congestion. I spent a great deal of energy dodging runners, walkers and cyclists and wasn’t able to maintain the same speeds I could before as I had to slow down to be safe.

 

I cycled past Cherry beach and even at this early hour people were already there, staking claim on their small bit of estate in the sand, and readying themselves for a full day of beach-fun. It was going to get hot in the afternoon, so it was a perfect way to spend the afternoon.

 

As I crossed the old lift bridge I could just see on the left the new bridge that was being built and it looked pretty impressive. Once off the bridge the path narrowed, so I decided to ride on the road until I crossed the second lift bridge. The path continued along Queens Quay and the section between Bay Street and Yo-Yo Ma Lane which was previously missing was finished construction in 2015. When I cycled here years before I used to have to fight my way through traffic until the path picked up again. The path is so busy though that it almost makes me want to ride on the road again…almost.

 

 

When doing a virtual race, I think it’s safe to say that the term “racing” is very loosely defined. Perhaps you can call it a time trial, but that’s about as much of a race as it gets. But to keep things interesting I like to pretend other people running or cycling are my competitors and I try to pick them off one-by-one, and when someone passes me, I give chase and try to catch them. Of course, I’m the only one aware that it’s a race.

 

After reaching Coronation Park I turned around and retraced my path to Lakeshore Blvd. Instead of going east to Woodbine Ave, I went the opposite direction and travelled west to where the Don Valley trail connects with Lakeshore. It wasn’t as busy as the Martin Goodman trail, but the path was in much rougher shape. There were a lot of tree roots and potholes to navigate over which vibrated from your fingertips up to your skull, rattling your brain.  There are also some blind corners that you have to slow down for fear of colliding with someone coming the other way.

 

As much I love to run, the bike feels like home. Perhaps this has something to do with being the 3rd generation in my family that has taken up the road bike. My uncle Peter Clarke and granddad Eric Clarke were both avid cyclists and belonged to a cycling club in England. My grandad was known as “Crasher Clarke.” In fact, I didn’t even know they were cyclists until a few years after I started riding. Cycling is in my blood.

 

I arrived home feeling elated.

I completed my 40 km ride in 1:31:37 with an average pace of 26.3 km/h.

Transition 2

As I entered T2 (again, my backyard) Cilla was there and eager to act as my crew support. She grabbed everything I needed by the back door and brought it out to me and took pictures while I was getting ready for my run.

I was pretty thirsty and drank the rest of my water that I had with me on my ride and ate another gel. As I was leaving, I grabbed my hand-held water bottle to take with me on my run as I was still thirsty.

 5 Km Run

 

When I started running my legs groaned and creaked in protestation. They felt heavy and uncoordinated and for all the effort I was putting in, it felt like I was going nowhere.  Nothing brings dead-legs in duathlon than the dreaded second run. Eventually the stiffness subsided, but the heaviness never really left.

 

The only way to improve the run after cycling is to do brick training—which I didn’t do.  A brick workout is a training session that involves two or more exercises back-to-back, with the aim of muscle adaptation. Brick work teaches the muscles to adapt to the challenge of running, then biking, then running again in a way that no other session can. But having just got back on the bike about a month ago, I was really just focusing on gaining strength and speed. 5 days a week I would get up early to go for a bike ride before Cilla started her school and then I would go for a run at lunchtime. On Sundays I focused on my long runs. I also started doing ab work 5 times a week, for 10 minute sessions

 

The run seemed to go by quick. I had on some up-beat tunes to keep me motivated throughout and surprisingly, I was able to average almost the same pace in the 2^nd run as the first.

 

I completed my 5km run with the time of 27:47 and an average pace of 5:33/km.

 

When I crossed the imaginary finish line at the end Cilla was there waiting to put my medal around my neck. As she did, she said very proudly, “You are the champion, Mama.”

 

In total the duathlon took me 2:54:48.

 

 

Back on the Bike

 

There’s an old saying that goes “you never forget how to ride a bike,” and a very complicated scientific explanation as to why. But as I saddled up to ride for the first time in 6 years, I didn’t care why, I just hoped that the theory was indeed true. I was once an avid cyclist, riding on average 500-700 kilometres a week and for several years my life revolved around my bike. When we adopted Cilla, bike riding became impractical so I took up running, something I could easily do with her by putting her in the running stroller and heading out the door. Unfortunately, my poor bike sat neglected in the basement collecting dust, getting only occasionally use on the trainer.

But with Cilla getting older and in school full time, I thought now would be the perfect time to get back on the bike. Maybe not with the previous epic rides, but an hour ride every morning before Cilla started school.

Before venturing out I had to get my bike in working order. I’m sure it needed a proper tune-up, but with Ontario on lockdown it was virtually impossible to get an appointment. So instead I ordered what I needed from Gears and spent a Sunday afternoon working to get it rideable. After giving it a thorough cleaning, I lubed the chain and replaced some of the handlebar tape that was peeling off.  I replaced both tires and inner tubes and it took a lot of wrestling on my part to get the damn tire on. I hoped like hell I didn’t get a puncture on the road because it would take me half the day to just to change it.  I don’t remember it being that hard before. And wouldn’t you know, after putting the tire back on and pumping some air into it, the damn thing exploded. So, I was the lucky SOB that got to spend a further 30 minutes wrestling with it.

I also bought a new seat bag for the tools and extra tubes and put new batteries in my lights and computer. There wasn’t much else to do—everything seemed to be in working order.

As I left the house for my first ride, I felt a little like a newborn lamb trying to find its legs while toddling after its mother. I was not feeling exactly confident with my skill level. We (the bike and I) were both a little older, a little slower and a little out of practise. I was worried I wouldn’t remember how to change the gears or would forget which foot to use when unclipping and fall in the most embarrassing way. I felt, and most likely looked, like a newbie.

It was early as I headed out on the trails (I had decided to forgo the roads while I was getting back my riding skills). By leaving at an early hour I was hoping to avoid the congestion on the trails. It would also mean a smaller audience if I fell or did something stupid. As I descended into the valley, I white-knuckled the breaks like mad. My younger self would have been mortified, but I was not used to speed and worried if I hit a pothole I would go flying. It was going to take some time to trust myself and my bike.

I was quite cold as I puttered along—I had forgotten how to dress on the bike and clearly didn’t wear enough layers. When running you dress for weather 10 degrees warmer than the thermometre, but when cycling, you need to dress for weather colder than the thermometre. I didn’t have a lot of cycling clothes to choose from since my old clothes were extra-small and I was a few pounds heavier. But I made do with what I had and took note to wear a cycling jacket next time.

I was quite slow, partly because I unclipped every time I got to a narrow bridge and also because the trails aren’t really conducive of speed. The uneven ground sent shock waves up my arms and into my head. I forgot how much you feel every bump and groove on uneven road surface, and it made me cautious and slow.

I was also slower because the muscles I needed to ride well were undeveloped. Running and cycling both move in the sagittal plane (forward and backward movement), and share some muscle groups, but the core muscle groups used are different. While running I mostly use my calves and hamstrings but when cycling I’m using mostly quads, and buttock muscles.

After an hour I had completed 22 kilometres with no major mishaps, apart from being frozen solid. It took a couple hours to thaw out, just in time to go for my run. (You didn’t actually think I was going to stop running?)

It’s been three weeks since my first ride and I’m faster and much more confident on the bike. I don’t brake on the downhills and am able to negotiate tight corners now. I ride for an hour in the morning before Cilla has school and then I go for a run at lunchtime.

It is true what they say—you don’t forget how to ride a bike. And you certainly don’t forget the freedom and excitement that comes with that!