I have to admit I was hoping for a much better experience at the BMO 8k. I was super stoked when I signed up to push myself to a longer distance but with all the life changes I have been going through my training regimen took a hit. To the point where I had only run once in the 3 weeks leading up to the event. That didn't have me very confident...
And of course...Mother Nature decided to mess with all us runners and DUMPED rain on us. And living in Vancouver when I say DUMPED rain that's saying something.
I was up early to drop my friend off at the Half Marathon starting line by 6:30 and after leaving her to deal with the rain I made my way back to the Canada Line to head downtown to my starting line where I was meeting my running partner at 8am.
My race didn't start until 9:30 and so suffice to say we were cold and miserable the entire time we were waiting. The only cover provided at the start line was under a giant tree. I felt like I was part of a frat prank...how many people can you fit under this tree?
|We stayed warm by laughing a lot. And generally annoying everyone around us.|
One benefit of getting to my starting line early was getting to see my bestie run by at her 13km mark. She was killing it and I was super proud to see her go by. I was so excited I totally forgot to take a picture. (boo!)
I feel like a half marathon is so far away from me at this point that I was in awe of all the people running by with smiles on their faces. Bonus: I got to see one of my friends from elementary school run by too. Talk about perfect timing.
Finally...it was our turn. And as soon as we started I knew it was going to be a long slog for me. Every muscle was tight and the air was so cold and wet I could hardly catch my breath. Still...we battled through along what was still a beautiful route despite the rain:
|holy crap was I happy to see this sign!|
|so happy we needed a selfie to capture the moment.|
As we neared the finish line I was so done. I just wanted to stop moving. But of course I also realized that there was no way I could walk across the finish line. No...I needed to run across it...hands raised in triumph...a smile plastered on my face. So I ran the last 500 or so metres.
And that meant that instead of my hands raised in the air in triumph...they were clamped over my mouth trying to keep me from puking all over my moment of glory. It almost worked. It was just a little puke. I totally didn't even need the medic that offered me help to help me.
Alas...it wasn't the finish that I had dreamed of...but I so proud I actually finished. Actually...strike that. I think given all the circumstances I'm even more proud that I started. Because the draw of sitting in a warm Tim Hortons was strong that morning...
My prize for starting and finishing? My first metal medal...isn't it pretty?
I was so glad to have my running partner with me for every step. She walked with me when I needed a rest and encouraged me at every kilometre marker.
Oh...and I am so super proud of my amazing friend for finishing her first half marathon that day and totally crushing it! She was my superhero...
I can't even imagine running 21.1K. One day maybe...because that was the goal when I started this whole running journey.
But for now my 8k accomplishment will have to be enough. At least until stairs are no longer my mortal enemy.