Toronto Women's Virtual Half Marathon

Like every other runner out there at the moment, my races have either been cancelled, postponed or been turned into virtual races. It’s disappointing for sure, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not the worst thing to have happened. But for some athletes, businesses and charities that rely on these races, it’s very disheartening to say the least.

 

I’m not ready to give up on the race season yet, so I’ve decided to continue with my race schedule virtually.  A virtual run has a lot of flexibility. It can be completed from any location on any day that you choose, at your own pace. You can run on the street, on the trail, in your backyard or inside on the treadmill.  But is a virtual race even a race—is it not just a training run if it’s just you? There’s no competition. Why spend your money when you aren’t getting the race experience?

 

Here’s the thing: a lot of these smaller, local races need our money to continue to function in the future, after the pandemic. The way I look at it, if I was going to participate in the race before the pandemic, why would I desert them now? It may not be the same experience that I originally signed up for, but most are trying to make it a good experience by offering race swag, t-shirts, finisher medals and race bibs you can wear on race day.

 

Most race events raise money for charities and without them it could be devastating to the causes they support. The current pandemic is creating new challenges that none of us could have ever prepared for and now more than ever it’s important to continue to support these charities.

 

With something concrete to focus on, I’m more motivated to get out and train. Not that I need a lot of encouragement—I love to run. But with all the stress of self-isolation, home-schooling my 5 year old and making sure all her needs are met physically, educationally and emotionally and  teaching piano in the evenings, I’m exhausted. It can be so easy to just say, “I’m too tired to run today.” But if I know I have a race at the end of it, it makes me accountable. 

 

My first virtual race took place on Sunday May 31st with the Toronto Women’s Half Marathon, brainchild of Cory Freedman. It’s also a fundraiser for POGO (Pediatric Oncology Group of Ontario). This was my third time participating in this race, but my first time virtually.

 

I wanted to keep my race routine as close to normal as possible, so that it actually felt different from a training run. The previous week I treated as my taper week, running less kilometres, but keeping my intensity to my goal race pace.  I made sure I drank plenty of water the past few days to make sure I was well hydrated. The night before I ate a delicious pasta dinner prepared by Trish and set out all my race gear: shorts, tank, shoes, and race bib. Since there would be no water stations, I filled my Salomon Pulse handheld water bottle with a GU electrolyte and inside the pocket of the case I put 3 GU gels. I would probably only need 2 but I like to carry an extra just in case. I love this water bottle because the soft flask rests in my hand and collapses as I drink and the elastic strap allows me to relax my hand—I don’t have to grip the bottle.  And it only weighs 73 grams. It beats wearing the hydration belt any day.

 

I set my alarm the night before for 5:30 am and when it went off in the morning I felt like I hadn’t even slept. Trish was restless all night and because I’m a light sleeper, I was kept awake. It would have been so easy to just roll over and go back to sleep, but I forced myself to get up and get ready, just as if I were really competing in a race.

 

After reluctantly getting out of bed I fed the cats; Flynnie, our orange tabby greeted me with enthusiastic meows, while Mali stayed in her bed snoring soundly. I was envious of her lazy attitude. I poured a large glass of water and trudged to the shower where I made the water as hot as possible without scalding myself. I spent the next 10 minutes equally trying to wake myself up and relax my achy, stiff muscles and joints. I French-braided my hair; double-knotted my laces; and completed my usual stretches before heading out to the race site.

 

I really love to race.  I love the whole ritual. I love the social aspect. I love the competitiveness.  I love the cheering of the crowds and the feeling of being a part of something. And even though I know I will never break records or get on the podium, I love to cross the finish line knowing that I left everything out there and I did the very best I could.  This morning, it didn’t feel quite like a race, but it didn’t feel like a training run either, it was more like a time trial where it’s a race against the clock.

 

The route I chose was very similar to the actual race route which would have followed the Don River trail system, although I was starting in the opposite end. I shivered as I walked to the trail. It was cool, only 8 degrees out, considerably colder after the heat wave we just had. It was a beautiful day for a run though with not a cloud in the sky.

 

When I reached the entrance to Taylor Creek Park, just off Haldon Ave I stopped and prepared to begin my race. There was no adrenaline rush, no crowds cheering, no wishing other runners good luck, and no starters’ pistol. So I wished myself good luck, gave myself a countdown and began my descent into valley. I flew down the hill letting gravity propel me forward. I travelled west along the trail and even at this hour there were quite a few other runners about. I pretended that they were racing with me and waved hi and called a friendly greeting. I ran through Taylor Creek without incident and soon came upon the elevated wetlands where the trail links up with the Lower Don Trail and the West Don River Trail.  

 

I took the latter trail and ran across the concrete bowstring bridge which was part of the Old Don Mills Road. I passed through the parking lot and ran over a single-lane Bailey bridge that crossed the CN tracks. From there I ran parallel to the West Don River through E.T. Seton Park. This park was named after Ernest Thompson Seton who was born August 14, 1860, in South Shields, Durham, England. As a young boy Seton wandered through the ravines of Toronto observing animals in their natural habitat and often painting and sketching these scenes. In 1897, he won a gold medal from the Ontario College of Art, and received a scholarship to the Royal Academy in London, England.

 

As I continued I passed the Naturescape Art Project created by youth artists and then passed people playing disc golf and watched them unsuccessfully try to hit their target. As I ran under the railroad bridge I reached the 5km mark and my average pace was 5:31.  It wasn’t my fastest 5km by any means, but I was definitely feeling it.  My runs lately have all been painfully slow and my legs were already feeling heavy, my breathing laboured. I slowed my pace slightly as I worried I would blow up before I even made it to 10 km.

 

I travelled under the Eglinton overpass and through Serena Gundy Park, then Wilket Creek Park until I finally reached Sunnybrook Park.  Up until now cars weren’t allowed in the park, so we ran, cycled and walked on the roads to give ourselves more room to social distance from one another. But now cars were allowed access so I had to be careful of the traffic, even at this hour.

 

At the 7 km mark I ate my first GU gel, turned around and retraced my steps back to where the three trails intersected. I had a play list to keep me motivated and distracted from how tired and sore I was feeling. From Canadian musicians, Serena Ryder, Metric and Biff Naked to Uk’s Florence and the Machine, Mumford and Sons and PJ Harvey to American’s Green Day, and Pink they offered enough inspiration to keep me moving forward.

 

Despite it being cool outside I was still sweating profusely. Sweat was working its way into my eyes and I had to wipe it away with my shirt before it started stinging. I’m a cold person normally but when I run I heat up rather quickly making my body’s thermoregulation system kick into action and cool my core temperature down. So I sweat. A lot.

 

Before I knew it I had reached the 10 kilometre mark. Almost halfway! My average pace was a little slower at 5:34. This time when I reached the forks I took the Lower Don River Trail where I continued running parallel to the Don River. There is a lot of art on this trail, mostly in the form of sculptures, installations and graffiti and I saw my first one as I passed under the Don Mills Road underpass where there is a sculpture of half submerged canoes mounted into the wall of the bridge.

 

 I tend to see a lot more wildlife on this trail—deer, bunnies, turtle and snakes—but today I didn’t see any.  Apparently it was too early even for them. Eventually I passed the Don River Fish Ladder where a lot of surprisingly healthy fish swim, given its pollution, and then reached Pottery Road at the 15 km mark.  My average pace had slowed down a little more and was now at 5:39. I ate another GU gel and turned around for the final stretch home.

 

That was when I felt the full force of the headwind trying to push me back. I dug in and pushed hard to cut through it. It took a lot but gradually I adjusted to the extra effort and my heart was able to regulate itself once again.

 

I ran back to the forks of the Don for the last time and reconnected with Taylor Creek Trail and ran all the way to the end at Dawes Road.  I pushed hard for the last 2 kilometres and over-took a few runners ahead of me.  (Yes, I know they weren’t racing against me, but let me have my moment). I ended pretty low key in the parking lot—no cheers, no finish line, no announcement, but I was still pretty pleased. My time was 1:59:59 with an average pace of 5:41. 

I was happy that I managed to run it under 2 hours. I took a few minutes to enjoy the moment, then walked the couple kilometres home to see my wife and daughter who were waiting to congratulate me. I had now earned the privilege to wear my Foxy Original Finishers necklace that I receive for participating.