LAST SUNDAY I ran the Hamilton marathon in just over three hours, my first 42.2-kilometre race since New York, two years ago. It wasn’t my fastest ever – in fact, it was pretty average. But one of the joys was racing with loads of my training partners from the Guelph Victors. I drove down in a van load of six; I ran the first 25 kilometres in lockstep with Stephen and Lisa; and the finish line had a strong Victors vibe as we all cheered our teammates home. I had my eye out for one teammate in particular, but I never saw him, not at the start nor at the finish. Read more
Posts from the ‘Running’ Category
LATE ON A FRIDAY EVENING: the mid-June sun is lingering, a soft breeze blows, and I’m standing on a red clay track behind a line of white chalk along with eight other middle-aged guys. We’re all outfitted in similar singlets, shorts and racing spikes. I’m uncharacteristically nervous before a race.
I’M SOMEWHERE IN the middle of a pack of more than 15,000 runners, thumping down the narrow road out of Hopkinton, Massachusetts, headed east for downtown Boston. The course is thick with spectators. They offer slices of orange. They yell and clap. Kids raise their hands for high-fives. “Go Canada!” they encourage me (I’ve got a small flag pinned to my shirt). Cool – it’s the Boston marathon, or Mecca for long distance runners like me. Read more
IT ONLY TAKES a mere three months for spring to arrive in Ontario, so here we are at 6 pm on the first warm Thursday of the year, early May, eight runners standing on a grassy secluded hill about to start our weekly tempo workout together. It’s a first for 2011 – everyone’s in T-shirts! The sun warms our skin as a cool breeze rustles our hair. We fidget and stretch, shaking off a day of inactivity, readying our bodies and minds for the coming exertion.
WINTER RETURNED this morning, and it’s nearly Christmas. Snow is everywhere, big fluffy flakes floating down from the heavens. I suit up for my morning run, but one look at the road conditions sends me back into the house to change into my “Icebug” trail running shoes, the ones with metal studs embedded in the soles. I head south on the gravel side road near my rural home. It’s cold and windy as I disappear into the rolling, resting countryside. This is the best.