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!