HBC Run For Canada 2007

I had completed the 2007 Sun Run and lived to tell the tale. What was next?
Wait a year for the next Sun Run? Give up running and try something else? No. I liked this running stuff and wanted more. And the closer to my home the start line was, the better.

Exercising my mousing muscles, I surfed around to discover that the HBC Run for Canada featured a starting line almost as close to where I live as the Sun Run. So I signed up for it online and decided I could now label myself "a regular runner". (I picture irregular runners as those that require numerous bathroom breaks).

"Will you join me in this race, oh most revered pace bunny?" I asked while lunching with my Sun Run hoof mate.

"Um, I don't know, I think you should do a race by yourself."

Oh dear. Were these words of rejection or dismay? Did pace bunny not enjoy the run as much as I did? Was I to venture solo into future competitions with no one to share scoffs and mocks of fellow racers?

"It would be best if you got experience pacing yourself. You seem to like running so that is the next step."

Later I would learn that pace bunny was indeed wise in these matters. But at that moment it was a disheartening turn of events. What a bore it would be to hoof alone amongst others.

The training continued. I had by this time fully integrated outdoor running into my regime, enjoying sunny afternoons in the park across from my client's office. I had apparently become a favourite of the local squirrels, who took no end of delight in playing chicken with this hoofer, darting out onto the path as I approached and waiting until the very last second before speeding away. Faint hope that my thin exercise shirt and shorts provided enough storage for squirrely snack of nuts or such!

July 1, race day, arrived.

Unlike the 50,000 plus starting field of the Sun Run, this race boasted about 2,000 participants. Pre-race activities were minimal and little fanfare was provided as we were directed to take our places in the starting area. No colourful balloons marking carefully guarded territories of yellow, green or white racing bibs, just a hodge podge of folks who "self-seeded". My mind immediately jumped to a sci-fi image of very fit hermaphrodites reproducing before I realized that this meant "People with any hope whatsoever of even thinking of trying to win this race, go up front; the rest of you hang back loose".

The other item of note was that there were some exceedingly fit people in this group. At least they appeared that way. Perhaps this was not the crowd for me...

The race started. With iPod set to ABBA and other inspirational disco and prog-rock ditties, I tapped on the Polar to start tracking my journey as I crossed the starting line. Some initial jostling as the field made its way down a side street in Coal Harbour before we emerged onto Georgia Street and headed for Stanley Park.

At this point I noted another difference in this race versus the Sun Run. Whereas the Sun Run blocked off most of Georgia Street, this race featured a few ragged traffic cones and some marshalls who apologetically gestured to passing cars, cyclists and buses that, if they wouldn't mind too much not knocking down this elite group of athletes, that would be much appreciated. I noted that some runners ahead of me, in the zeal to get ahead of the pack, stepped beyond the safe confines of those cones, coming dangerously close to a few of the larger SUVs passing by. I wondered if I had entered an adventure race, not a road race.

Soon enough, the course took us into Stanley Park and we made our way onto the Seawall. At this point I realized that pacing was not too much of an issue so far because my starting position in the race placed me with a group of runners who, well, weren't running too fast. I did however, miss the company of pace bunny.

Well onto the seawall and into the race, I executed a strategy I had read about in John Stanton's Running Room's Book on Running. He recommended that you find someone ahead of you and pace yourself with that person and, if up to it, catch up and pass that person, imagining that you were fishing and were trying to reel in that "catch". Well, I figured I would start slow and just pick someone and run at their pace. As an added bonus, I decided the best course of action was to pick a female runner with a nice butt.

Having selected my *secret* pace bunny I diligently followed. This was interesting and not just because of the nice butt bit. This strategy seemed to work. I suppose it was a combination of being early in the race and selecting someone with the right pacing.

The group continued on the seawall and for variety I glanced ahead to see a long thin line of runners way ahead in the distance. Considering that I had started maybe 50ish metres from the start line, this gave me a good sense of just how fast the leaders were. Perhaps I shouldn't have looked.

The course veered back into the Park at Lumberman's Arch, which of course meant we had to take a small incline up past the Aquarium. I was able to keep up with *secret" pace bunny even on this hill so that was good. We exited the park and then ran along Lagoon Drive after ascending another fairly steep hill that caused most of us to slow down somewhat. I was still running, no need to slow to walking. This was good.

We made our way out to English Bay and executed a slow turn around to head back to the park. By this time I was very glad to be wearing technical clothing that was very happy to wick any and all moisture away from me. Though the race did start early, it was still after all July!

At this point in the race my tired legs were beginning to flag. I had to (silently) bid farewell to *secret* pace bunny as she gained distance on me. Thank you for the pacing!

Thoughts turned to how this race would turn out. I was fully prepared to run slower than the Sun Run because I was sure that without *not secret* pace bunny I was going to burn out before the end and have to walk. As we got to about 7 km I was thinking this was very much a possibility but I decided that it was worth a try to push harder.

We entered back into the Park and got onto the Seawall, heading east towards the finish line at the park in Coal Harbour. At this point the Seawall takes a few jogs as it hugs the condos, Bayshore Hotel and other buildings. We did a bit of zigging and zagging and at this point I realized that yes, these interlocking bricks that formed the Seawall surface along here are indeed much harder than asphalt or concrete. The shins were complaining somewhat. As I turned the last bend in the Seawall prior to the finish I looked up to see the finish line clock.

It showed several minutes LESS than 1 hour! I was going to break 1 hour for 10 km.

Wow! Realizing this, I somehow started to run faster. I am not sure how, but I did. I saw the clock count past 57 minutes, but was determined not to see 58! I came through the finishing line gate and was happy to have a bit gentler of a slow down than the sudden screeching halt of the Sun Run. I stopped the Polar and it opined that I had run the race in about 57 minutes, given that I had crossed the start line about a minute after the official start. The ticker had gotten quite the workout but I had been able to run all 10 km, finished upright and unexpectedly broke an hour. Happy Canada Day or what?

I did a bit of stretching on a bench in the park area next to the finish line and while doing so came to understand the concept of sweat salt. I had noticed during the race that my palms began to feel a bit gritty. I figured this was..dirt? I wasn't too sure at all. As I was stretching after the race, grabbing legs and arms to assist in contorting into the proper positions, I noticed that all over I felt this grittiness on my skin. Being ever adventurous, a quick lick confirmed that a lot of the salt that was inside was now outside. Interesting the things that are learned when running. After stretching and walking around a bit to cool down, I took advantage of the offerings of bananas, fruit juice and water. I then journeyed back home and enjoyed a nice steamy shower, desalinating my surfaces and reflecting on the race.

I learned later that my chip time for the race was 56:58. My second 10 km race and I broke an hour. I can't complain about that.

I had run with pace bunny. I had run without pace bunny. Now what was next?

A work colleague recently emigrated from Britain had mentioned this thing called trail racing....