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.
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