Late last summer I foolishly pronounced I would line up for the Vancouver New Years Day 50Km again. Training was going well until life got in the way, my daughter got sick, my friends took a break from long runs and to top it of my right hip started to be very painful.
I eventually resigned to run the 25km yesterday and try the 50km another year. Deep inside, though, I didn't want to run the 25km. I wanted to do the 50km.
Packing for this day is always a bit chaotic as we traditionally have dinner guests and go snowshoeing the night before. Was the weather forecast to be trusted. How much water and food would I need, which shoes, which shirts, jacket, hat. Cellphone with cab numbers - check, emergency blanket - check, money and car keys - check, camera - check, dry gear and shower stuff for afterwards, check. Course description - check.
The morning of the event dawned cold, but dry. My clothing choice was right on and I soon fell into a rhythm in a group together with Lara, Rhonda, Arlene and Craig. As we were marvelling at the snow covered north shore mountains from Locarno Beach, Rhonda mentioned her car was parked at one of the parking lots on Spanish Banks.
What... you are not running the full 50km? A quick check made me realize that I was the only one (who was planning to run to the turnaround and then play it by ear). Bummer. Running alone has never been my forte. And running alone for 50km on no training seemed impossible.
But, all of a sudden I knew that I would not stop at the turn around. Craig, who had fallen back a bit, caught up. He had earlier said that he'll do a shorter out and back. All my hope was resting on me talking him into running 50km. "Ok, we have the whole day" was Craig's reply to my plea.
I begged some "Vitamin I" from Rhonda to deal with my painful hip and left the rest of the gang just before the super duper aid station that Danielle from Kintec had set up at Spanish Banks. Craig tended to his hot spot on his little toe with pink chap stick (gotta be flexible), I retied my shoes and hoovered down some chips and soon we were off into the trails of Pacific Spirit Park.
Craig continued his system of run-walk and would leapfrog me every so often. I plodded along, trying not too fall into a walk. My right hip was becoming extremely painful and my gait got shorter and shorter. Seeing the faster runners on the return trip got our minds off our little problems and made the time pass fast. Everybody was all smiles and encouragement was passed out freely.
The turn-around was very lonely. We didn't hang around. A quick stretch, more chap stick on Craig's toe, some food and off we were again. I was beginning to think that talking Craig into this was not a good idea. At least, if I'd be alone, I could bail without feeling bad...My run felt like a shuffle, Vitamin I wasn't working and the stretch back was looking very, very long. Crossing path with a couple of friends from way back when we lived in Kits was a welcome distraction. Running a couple of kms with Robert, who was out to start his new years resolutions on the right foot with a run in his blue Club Fat Ass shirt and intentions of participating in more events this year, was great. Sorry, Robert, if I was sounding a bit weird...I was in another zone.
Walking along Admirality Trail before returning to the beach was frustrating. Craig was getting way ahead and I decided that there was no way I could finish this. Plans for a bail out at the aid station took shape, then evaporated when I reached the parking lot and a waiting Craig but no tent or aid station. Humph. Craig sort of ignored my rambling about bailing. He also did not listen to me when I told him to go ahead and I would somehow find my way back...
The view over English Bay towards the city and Stanley Park was beautiful, but discouraging, as it showed very clearly how far away the finish was. Craig told me not to look ;-) I focused on reaching Kits Point. Then Burrard Street Bridge. At the end of the bridge was Sarah, waiting for John (not to be mean, but I was glad she missed him and fed us instead). Bananas, water and kind words got us going again. Soon we were negotiating the revellers leaving the Vancouver Polar Bear Swim at English Bay.
I could smell the finish and was trying to estimate how much further. Craig thought I was a bit optimistic in my assessment, but it didn't matter...we would make it now - even if we had to crawl in. The wind picked up as we passed the Nine O'Clock Gun, but the skies stayed dry. We picked up the pace - will power is an amazing thing - and almost sprinted to the fire hydrant. Our final, grand total time was 6:55. Much slower that I had hoped for in the summer, but hey! We've done it.
Arriving, still sweaty and ruddy cheeked, at the Mosquito Creek Bar and Grill, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Endorphins were cursing through my veins ;-) The icing on the cake, aka a wonderful day and way to start the New Year, was the trophy, a bunch of my fellow Fat Asses planned and made. Craig, who had run with me all day, hadn't said a word, and now presented to me this great trophy: an engraved glass plate mounted on a heavy, rustic, coppery looking stand. The engraving reads: "Thank you Ean and Sibylle for being the most awesome promoters of oddball endurance events and a healthy outdoor lifestyle. Your hard work and passion are always appreciated!"
Thanks, fellow Fat Asses and especially Craig Moore, Tim Wiens and Cheryl Johnson, who rumour has it were the movers and shakers behind this surprise.
