Running Scared?

2 Comments April 16, 2013 drworobec

We can put metal detectors inside stadiums. We can put security guards inside schools. We can put security screening inside airports. But we cannot run a marathon without feeling vulnerable. Not after yesterday. Not after the carnage, the panic, the awfulness, the violence, the terror, the evil that happened in Boston.

I ran the Boston Marathon in 2003…

Race	Last Name, First Name (Sex/Age)	Time	OverAll Place	Sex Place / Div Place	DIV	Net Time	City, State, Country
Boston Marathon 4/21/03	Swelin, Ashley J. (F23)	3:45:56	6251	1124 / 889	FOpen	3:38:40	Toronto, ON, Canada

It’s been ten years since I high-fived the students cheering at Wellesley College, willed myself up Heartbreak Hill, and cried tears of pride and joy along the finishing stretch on Boylston Street.

I originally wrote today’s blog post last week, and titled it ‘Boston’- I was going to share with you all of the things that running Boston taught me. Silly things, like how sunburned you can get over the course of 26.2 miles in Boston in April. Inspiring things, like “you cannot run fast if you do not put in the training. The same goes for anything in life. Work hard”. Special things, like how your parents will do anything for you- even come to Boston and stand five-people-deep for four hours for the chance to watch you cross the finish line. It’s been ten years since my parents stood right where yesterday’s second bomb went off.

But you know what, fellow runners? We must unite. We must be strong. We must not be scared to go to a movie, or send our kids to school and ourselves to work, or go to Boston and run a marathon. I can’t make sense of this tragedy because it’s senseless. I can’t explain this tragedy because it’s inexplicable. I can’t imagine this tragedy because it’s unimaginable. But when these senseless, inexplicable, unimaginable tragedies happen, we must cope.

And the way most runners cope is to run. We cope and we run and we run and we cope… and the miles tick by.

I’m going for a run.

21.1 Kms of Friendship

6 Comments March 5, 2013 drworobec

This is a story of friendship:

Setting:
Lakeshore Road in Burlington, Ontario. A cold Sunday morning in March, 10:05am.

Characters:
A and M are two 30-something females who have been friends for a decade through Chiropractic College, weddings, babies, businesses, tears, and laughter. This is their first Half Marathon together in 9 years. With 1:23 and 1:20 Personal Bests under their belts in 2004, the two friends are aiming for a 1:45 today. However, their unspoken competitive natures are evident in their quiet demeanors and anxious pre-race preparations.

Dialogue:

Starting Line (Brant/Caroline Streets)
A: Here we go!
M: Woohoo!

KM 1
A: So we’ll head out on this stretch for a 5km out-and-back, and then we run East all the way to the turnaround at Burloak. (Nervously) So we’ll be able to see a long ways ahead of us once we’re on that straightaway.
M: Okay, thanks for the heads-up. (Checks watch)

KM 2-8
A and M talk about their day-to-day lives, family vacations, and what their kids eat for breakfast.

KM 9
A: (Pulls out energy gel) Okay, so this is Walker’s Line. Then it’s Appleby Line, then Burloak. That’s the turnaround.
M: Okay. (Checks watch)

KM 10
A: (Excitedly) I see a police car up ahead with its flashers on, that must be the turnaround already!
M: No, I think that’s just the leaders coming back onto the homestretch.
A: (Defeated) Oh. (A is starting to play mind games with herself, worrying that they’ve gone out too fast.)

KM 11-12
A and M excitedly cheer on the leaders coming back West along Lakeshore Road.

KM 13 (Turnaround at Burloak Drive)
M: (Checks watch) Okay, now I don’t want to get you too excited, but if we keep up this pace, we’re going to break 1:40!
A: (Huge smile) I’m going to apologize for my bad mood now. Let’s do it!

KM 14-17
(M tells various stories about other races and reminisces about her and A’s racing history. A is silent, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.)
A: M, please go on ahead. You look strong. I’ll meet you at the finish line. Go ahead. I don’t mind. Go kick some butt. I’m hurting.
M: You’re doing great! (Checks watch)

KM 18 (Church volunteers at water station.)
Volunteer: Oranges and bananas! Oranges and bananas!
(A finds that this phrase matches the cadence of her stride. She continues to repeat a silent mantra- oranges and bananas, oranges and bananas, oranges and bananas). M continues to stay beside her, half a stride ahead.
M: Let’s use this downhill (Accelerates).

KM 19
M: Two kilometres to go. C’mon. (Checks watch)
A: Ten minutes. Less than ten minutes. I can do that.
M: Yep, less than a WOD at Crossfit. Let’s go.

KM 20 (Fans line the streets, holding signs and ringing cowbells. A and M can hear the music from the approaching Finish Line.)
M: (Checks watch) Okay, now it’s time to think of your sweet little Drew and Casey meeting you at the finish line. Picture their faces. Let’s chase 1:40!
A: (Holding back tears, overwhelmed with emotion and exhaustion.) Okay.

KM 21 (Heading North on Brant Street, the Finish Line is in sight.)
M: There they are! (Points to A and M’s husbands and children cheering and waving at them) Look at that clock! (M’s watch reads 1:38)
A: Almost there! Go!

KM 21.1 (Inside the finishing chute; A and M step across the timing mat and embrace. Tears of joy run down A’s face.)
A: Thank you so much for sticking with me and pulling me through when I was clearly dying. I could not have done that without you.
M: We were in it together, every step, because I wouldn’t have even made it to the Start Line without you. I’m so proud of us!

~The End

Basking in the post-race euphoria!

Running Does That.

6 Comments February 19, 2013 drworobec

I ran 20.5km yesterday. It was the last long run scheduled before my half marathon (21.1km) on March 3rd. From here on in, I’m in taper mode to allow my body to rest and recover from the past 14 weeks of run-specific training I’ve been doing.

I’m taking a completely different approach this time around. I come from a distance-running background, and up until about 5 years ago, I was a run-only kind of runner; 100km weeks were common and strength training was non-existent. I trained with a couple of super-fast chiropractic classmates, chasing them for mile after mile until I became faster too. I ran five full marathons and a couple dozen half marathons this way. I PR’d my half marathon and ran Boston. Running was, and still is, a huge part of who I am.

Enter career. Enter babies. Goals change. Priorities shift.

This time around, I am running once/week. One long run per week, that started with just 6km on November 10th and peaked at 20.5km yesterday. But, I am also going to Crossfit 3-4 times/week and feeling strong. I won’t be setting any personal records on March 3rd, but it will be my first half marathon in 5 years. My first half marathon as a mother. My first half marathon with changed goals and shifted priorities.

My running partner asked me why I chose to sign up for this race now, after a 5-year hiatus from distance-running. I chose to sign up because of my history, my addiction, and my passion for the sport. Running does that. I chose to sign up because I wanted my kids to see their mama be a part of something inspiring. Running does that. I chose to sign up because I wanted to feel that personal sense of accomplishment. Running does that.

Oh, and those chiropractic classmates that I used to chase? They were both in my wedding party and are two of my forever friends. And one of them will be beside me for every step on March 3rd. Running does that too.

“Believe that you can run farther or faster. Believe that you’re young enough, old enough, strong enough, and so on to accomplish everything you want to do. Don’t let worn-out beliefs stop you from moving beyond yourself.”

~John Bingham