One of my favourite living writers (Alain de Botton) wrote this pretty great piece in the New York Times about one of my favourite dead writers (Albert Camus) and his (ahem, one of my favourite) book. You can read it here. I don’t completely agree with de Botton but it did get me thinking that now is as good a time as any to revisit The Plague. So I picked up this copy of Kevin Chong’s The Plague in which he rather deftly rehashes Camus’ classic, setting it in contemporary Vancouver. And I thought it was great, but maybe too great because it didn’t take long to conclude that now is, in fact, not as good a time as any to revisit any very plausible depiction of a pandemic locking down my home city while my home city is on the verge of being locked down. But maybe you’re a bit of a masochist too? (Follow the link above and find it 25 per cent off directly from the press, and between now and total lock down, they’ll deliver it too.)
Plague top and short shorts for Brockton Oval dirt loop laps.
I survived a week of self-imposed Seawall isolation and what I learned is that (a) avoiding the Seawall makes it near impossible to avoid hills, and (b) hills and I do not get along. My one day of hills reprieve was my virgin experience running laps on the Brockton Oval dirt loop. Coach gave me ten times 600 metres with 200 metre breaks and I nearly tapped at five, then six, then by eight I decided I was in too deep to quit. It was also my first time doing 600s so maybe they just suck? It was also also my first time doing a proper track workout completely solo and as much as I love the solo run, solo track workouts suck. I do not know how anyone manages to do this all the time. The rest of the time this week I spent running up and down hills and over and back on bridges and I came out the end of the week pleasantly surprised by how much beating my legs (knees especially) bared and how well I recovered, especially a 33 KM romp to and then through the worst parts of the BMO Marathon course. You know, just in case RunVan change their mind and postpone rather than cancel. Not holding my breath for BMO but still holding hope for Berlin. Scotiabank Half hasn’t announced yet, though, which seems weirdly optimistic to me but I’ll take it.
I planned on writing about something else I read this week and then yesterday I woke up and made a cup of coffee and checked in on social media before my race eve shake out run and this was everywhere and I read it and if you haven’t read it yet then you should click the link above and go read it because it is way more important than any nonsense that you’re going to read here today. And if by the time you’re here the G&M has taken it down or moved it behind its paywall then just let me know and I will post the PDF that I saved in anticipation of that happening one day. I am horrified at the complete institutional failure on the part of the University of Guelph and Athletics Canada. Reading it made me sad, but it’s an important read and Megan Brown’s courage is commendable. I hope if nothing else that it spurs positive change. The response to the article posted by Athletics Canada does not inspire much confidence.
A few of the 85 Mile2Marathon crew in today’s First Half. Me and my chicken legs are in the middle-ish there. Photo by Taylor Maxwell.
It was race week and as is my luck the throat tickle that I was fighting became full-on plague that had me wiped out all week. I ran Wednesday’s workout solo so as to not spread it to the crew and my solo effort was awful. I was pretty disappointed. This was my fourth crack at the First Half half marathon, and this race has proven to be my nemesis in spite of it being on the Seawall and a counter-clockwise loop of Stanley Park – my most frequented running route. My first crack was just bad luck – the annual Vancouver snowstorm (that every year everyone seems to forget happens every single year) happened to fall on race weekend and, for the first time in its history, the race was cancelled. In 2018 I went into the race with a niggle in my knee and finished barely able to walk (but too prideful to walk off rather than finish, to my detriment). Last year I wrecked my achilles a bit beforehand, and ended up using the race as a load test to see if I would be able to start a marathon build. It was fun, I suppose. I jogged the first seven and when things seemed like they were going okay I picked it up to goal marathon pace for the next 14, according to stats passing 147 others after 10 km, but still finished a rather disappointing (for me, at the time) 1:37:43. This year was going to be my year but my luck and a pesky virus had other plans. I resigned myself to go out at A Goal marathon pace around 4:25/km and if things held together well enough, shoot for a negative split and at least set a new course personal best. But that’s not how it went at all. As the countdown to gun start I threw out my run plan and decided to race.
Trying to keep up with Aaron Carveth and John Hamilton. Photo by Taylor Maxwell.
I’d lined up with a few Mile2Marathon crew mates in the start corral – a couple on my level and a couple a few steps quicker – and decided to hang with them until I blew up or coughed out a lung. It was a stupid plan but that’s what I did. And it went great. We swapped leading a few times and for the most part held the pack together until crossing the 10 KM marker in 41:09 – on pace for a 1:26 finish – then I started to really feel the pace. I managed to hang on until 15 KM (Strava says 1:01:20 for my fastest 15 KM but I reply “bullshit.”) After that the fade was on. But I was having a pretty good day and I knew sub 90 was a realistic finish.
Just past 19 KM and on the home stretch. Photo by Stephanie Coleridge.
I took my last Maurten at 18 KM and hoped to kick at 19 KM to home but it didn’t kick. The hill from the Seawall to Beach winded me and I had little left for the next hill from Beach to Pacific under the Granville Bridge, but cresting the top I knew it was all downhill to the finish line. I rounded the last corner and checked for the clock but it was obscured behind the finish arch. I didn’t see my time until I’d crossed – 1:29:36 – for my second fastest half marathon on a day I figured I was going to call-it-in after just barely deciding not to stay in bed. I had a bit of a coughing fit in the finish chute for good measure. Later at home I checked my stats. I’d taken over eight minutes off this course but over the second half of the race I was passed by 65 other runners. What a difference a year makes. I’m convinced that if I wasn’t sick I wouldn’t have suffered the fade, so there’s going to be some lingering thoughts of missed opportunity, but right now I’m just thrilled with the race. It was a great day and I’m so glad I decided to give it hard from the start. Next up, a week of altitude training at 7,300 feet. Excited!
