We left the house 25 minutes prior to the gun at the 5K portion of the Saskatchewan Marathon. Although we live only a few kilometres from the start line, I really didn't have any concerns about arriving on time. Yet, as we found Ruth Street blocked at Broadway Avenue, and Ruth Street generally inaccessible, we began to snake through some of the many neighbourhood streets that rest between thoroughfare and collector streets, only to find that getting within more than 1500 metres of the start line was nearly impossible.
With time against us, Jasmine got us to Taylor Street and Coy. I had less than ten minutes left until the gun, so I decided to run to the start line. As I got to St. Henry Street, I noted a lot of walkers from the previous race as well as a number of volunteers. "I'm running to the start line," I assured a volunteer who had given me a suspicious look.
As I drew closer to the arch, I could see that hundreds of runners had already assembled. Three minutes left. My heart rate had to be quite elevated as I stormed to the start through the finishing area with all the tents.
Finally, as I arrived there were two minutes for me to recuperate before the gun. I listened as my heart pounded efficiently as it slowed. I wanted to drink in the experience. I brought no headphones and wanted no music. Sometimes its better to run with the community than against. This was a race and we were all ranked. But my expectations were minimal.
I had run 32K the previous day, and was just around 175K for the month (my previous record was about 178). Yes, my expectations were minimal. And yet, as the gun fired, I found myself nearly sprinting past runner after runner, before clearing the initial throng and forcing myself to slow down. I was running a 4:46/K as we turned onto Ruth Street, and I wondered just how long I could keep that up in my current condition. These days I've been running a 4:00/K pace when doing intervals, so I was well slower than my top training speed, but I was unsettled. I suppose calling the general feeling painful would be a mistake; if anything it was a strange discomfort, like soaking in ice cold water. That's to say that continuing wouldn't hurt me, but continuing would be difficult.
Still, I took it kilometre by kilometre. The first was 9 metres uphill, and was surely the toughest. I told myself that if I hung in there, I'd get the benefit of 9 metres downhill at the end.
Sure enough, I began to settle-in around the halfway point. My body was no longer struggling, but had accepted the present difficulty of maintaining the pace. A sense of peace prevailed. Rather than worrying if I could keep up the pace, I simply kept up the pace. There were no more ifs, there was the reality that I had acclimated. Before it could even cross my mind to worry again, I had only two kilometres left. Then a few minutes later it was just one.
Then I was turning off Ruth Street and heading to the finish line arch.
The race was over. I crossed at 23:48, which was good for 33rd place out of 482 runners. It was my second best 5K overall (my best being in BC), and my best in Saskatchewan.
After the race, I chugged two cups of water (in my haste just to get to the race on-time, I neglected my Honey Stinger Gel and Nuun drink), before spotting James Funk at the results tent.
