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.