John Atkinson’s 2011 Victoria Marathon “Race Report”

26.2 Miles of Magical Mystery Touring: Goodlife Fitness Victoria Marathon 2011

Part I…

Saturday, October 8th   Amiel picks me up at 8am and we head over to Main St. & 7th to pick Barry up. I try calling him after we arrive and there’s no answer. An unknown number then calls me, and it’s Barry wondering if we’ve arrived yet. I’d typed his # into my phone arse-about-face. I rectify my error. We load Barry up and in and head off to Tsawwassen at around 8:40am. A smooth trip, taking the Oak Street route Amiel was more familiar with. We arrive around 9:15; park the car in the 45th lane (scanning across, it appeared lanes 1-20 must be in the Strait of Georgia?) then head inside the ferry terminal (Tsawwassen Quay Market) to kill time with some fairly aimless walking up-&-down. Amiel buys a fat slice of pizza from Ali Baba’s joint. I’m not sure it’s the breakfast of champions, but Amiel’s middle name is Laidback – and he’s pretty relaxed about the 8k tomorrow. He assures us it’ll be fine, as he wipes away a bead of grease from his chin. There seemed to be a fair amount of grease for one slice of pizza. In fact, so much I thought I spotted Travolta and Newton-John dancing between the mushrooms and olives. “I got chill…ies—they’re multiplyin’ – and I’m looooozin’ (self)-control…”   We beat the tannoy announcement back to the car and drive onto the ferry around 9:50. It leaves pretty much on-time 10 minutes later. After parking in line, we head up to the passenger deck and bag some seats. I do a few laps of the interior looking for familiar faces from the local running community. I spot Capilano Eagles President Dominic Gerelle, but no-one else. They must all be on the 9, 11 or noon services.   After pretty much 1-hr-30 on-the-dot, we dock, then drive off towards Vic. We arrive, around 40 minutes later (12:20pm or so) having narrowly avoided rear-ending a Toyota Camry just west of Saanich. Amiel was as cool as ever, bringing us to a halt about an inch from the Camry’s back-bumper. I introduced him to the phrase stopping distance. We check in to the Hotel Rialto. Amiel arranges hotel parking — $15-a-day.  A little steep, but still works out a fair bit cheaper than keeping his Porsche on the street.   I’m sharing my room with Amiel. We dump our stuff in 411 and crash on our queens for five minutes, before heading down to the lobby to meet Barry. I suggest heading to the Noodle Box, my favourite lunch haunt (particularly pre-marathon) in Victoria. The others don’t need much arm-twisting.   Lunch at the Noodle box. Go for a chicken & prawn stir-fry with jasmine rice. Barry joins me, while Amiel plumps for a tofu version with noodles. Not sure about downing prawns the day before a marathon (or any race for that matter), but Barry says they’ll digest quicker than the chicken. He seems to know things. The portions are generous and I’m in my element. About 75% of the reason I run is so I can eat like a Shire horse (about twice the size of a regular one). Barry’s worried the portions are too big. I tell him he’s running a marathon tomorrow. Tuck in. He does.   After trashing our plates and recycling our chopsticks, we head to the expo; just a couple of blocks further down Douglas. We spot the elite section and, knowing our numbers are in the top 50, bring our egos out to play as we nonchalantly stride in-and-over to bag our bibs. The chips are now attached to the numbers (loving the MyLaps system), so you don’t have to thread plastic zip fasteners through the eye of a needle to attach said chip to a shoe.   While we’re there, we bump into Will, who’s doing the 8k tomorrow. He’s been checking the VFAC 8k team is all-present-and-correct with the timing guys. Barry and I decide to do the same, for the marathon and half-marathon teams. Many have signed up, some haven’t. We plug the gap. Then hear our half-marathoners have spelt out VFAC’s name in full. In contrast to the rest of us. They (the GFVM timing guys) prefer consistency. We oblige. A blur of speed-touch-typing ensues. We’re now all VFAC. The VFAC Young Pretenders moniker I spent seconds coming up with is consigned to the garbage. We check Open guys are signed up with Open teams and Masters with Masters. Then we’re told Masters can count for Open teams, too. Sounds good. Graeme (Wilson), Mark (Bennett) and Helen (Ritchie) can count for both. We say we’re in. They hand us printouts to check. All looks good. Barry then adds some names to the half-marathon line-up.   While Barry’s doing his thang with Timing Tony, I spot Margreet Dietz and say hi. I met Margreet during a Christmas copy-editing shift at the Vancouver Sun last year. She ran a 3:09 marathon just two weeks ago and is here to support her sister, debuting at the distance. Of course, being in Rome – and always enjoying doing what the Romans do – Margreet is running the marathon tomorrow as a ‘warm-down’. I then clap eyes on Super-Stevie King, the legendary race-announcer who has become a good friend and emceeing colleague. We chinwag briefly about the race, and Steve gives me some stellar advice ahead of tomorrow’s festivities. I tell him I’m shooting for 2:49. Which essentially means, going out at 2:49 pace for the first 5k and then trying desperately to hang on for the remaining 37.2. Steve predicts the weather gods will be smiling on us. I wish Mr. King good luck for his race-announcing duties and we shake on it.   Amiel, Barry & I head out of Elite Registration and back onto the expo merry-go-round at bang-on 2:30pm – exactly the time we’ve rearranged to meet Heather and husband Chris (another fast runner just here to support this time). Right on cue we immediately bump into them. We exchange hugs and some excited pre-race banter. Heather’s # is F6; she’s successfully upgraded to elite women’s status. Nice. And thoroughly deserved. We do a couple of laps of the expo, and bump into Barry’s good buddy David (Parker). They do another lap on their own, while Amiel and I dream of our queens. We decide to alight the carousel and Amiel heads back to the hotel, agreeing to do a light jog with Barry & David later.   I head off to catch up with my writer buddy Grant McKenzie over some tea at Murchies. The author of critically-acclaimed novels Switch and No Cry For Help – and Editor-in-Chief of Monday Magazine – now calls James Bay home, and is having a ball. He was previously based in Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast – but I think quietly craved a return to city life at some point. When daughter Kayleigh chose UVic as her degree study destination, it was the perfect opportunity to stay close to her and change things up. Murchies is a cool spot – going strong since 1894 – and it’s good to catch up.   After bidding Grant farewell, I hot-foot it back to the Rialto for a quick spell as a starfish on the queen, before heading out for an early dinner with Mikey P and family. I’m a stickler for eating early the night before a marathon, but know – only too well from experience – that it’s better to be safe than sorry. I invited Amiel, but he reverses his initial decision to come, choosing to take it easy around the hotel. I think he’s still got pizza on his mind. It’s great to catch up with Mike’s wife Tammy and twin daughters Airlie and Haylie over sushi. It’s been too long. By around 7 we’re full to the brim and just about ready to crash. We head back to our respective hotels – Mike and family are staying close to the harbour.   Back at the Rialto, I get my race gear together and pin my number to my VFAC vest. Band Aids; Bodyglide at the ready; shorts, socks, under-T; gloves, cap, 5 pound (GBP) Tesco blue shades; Seven gels — one for breakfast, six for the race; Berlin gel-belt; warm-up pants and top. Pretty much ready to go. Watch a bit of TV (Amiel’s apparently been in bed since 7, glued to our impressive Samsung 45-incher), then it’s lights out at 9:30 and ZZZ-time. Just over 11 hours ’til take off.   Alarm goes off at 6, as Amiel’s running the 8k at 7:15. I snooze for about 10, then decide to rise myself. Mr. Logan grabs a quick shower, gets kitted up and is out-the-door, Starbucks-bound, by 6:20am. I just have time to wish him good luck. I grab a shower myself and don my basic layer of kit before heading to the Starbucks on Government & Yates for my own pre-race caffeine fix. I recognize one of the servers from two years ago, but he doesn’t recognize me. I thank him for my Grande Soy Café Misto (regular blend) and make it a take-out. There isn’t time for a catch-up. Back at the hotel I finish my coffee and make final preparations; full strip on, kit bag packed and we’re good to go. I head out the door at 7:50am. Race start-time is 55 minutes from now.   I bump into David (Parker) and Alicia (June Mary Patricia Lola Margaret) Woodside, who are also doing the marathon.  We chat about this and that; more this than that, if I’m honest. But a nice way to loosen up and lose some pre-race nerves. I bid them good luck and farewell just south of the GFVM finishing line, where the 8k guys are swarming home. I bump into VFAC Coach Johnny Hill and Amiel. His race didn’t go so well. Fatigue and lethargy the main culprits, he says. I don’t mention pizza. I then bump into Kate & Laura, who have also run the 8k. They wish me well and I look forward to seeing them, Coach Johnny and all the other VFACers out supporting us on the marathon course; most having earlier raced either the 8k or half-marathon.   With 8:10am on the clock I jog past the kit trucks and through the government buildings pathway which connects Government St. to Menzies. The start is about 400m to my left. Almost immediately I spy Davey Frilund, my oldest B.C. running buddy, and wife Cindy. We’d arranged to meet at the start around 8:15 and go for a warm-up. We’re right on time. Arriving in the starting zone, I spot Heather and Barry limbering up on Kingston. We exchange high-fives and hugs and I introduce them to Dave. We’re soon off on a warm-up. H & B are only looking to do five minutes, so turn back early. Dave & I carry on to make it a round 10. We run into Marky Bennett and partner Tanya en route; MB will be looking to break 2:40 on this fine, fall morning in B.C.’s capital – at the ripe, young age of almost 51 (and looking at least 20 years younger).   Dave and I head back round to the starting area. I then strip off to reveal full racing gear, before dashing over to the Royal Scot Suites for a late washroom trip. Releasing unwelcome guests in the foyer beforehand is an essential part of racing success. I’m back over to the start-line by 8:40, as the national anthem plays. Five minutes to go. I shake hands with Barry, Yannick and Mikey P, high-five Helen and hug Heather. We’re all set. Countdown from 10 and BANG… we’re off.   The first few Ks of a marathon are always enjoyable. You’ve made it to the start-line (an incredible journey in itself) and can now really relax, let loose and have some fun. I settle into a relaxed pace alongside Mikey and Heather; Yannick’s nearby and Barry is already striding off into the distance. I think that’s called setting the tone of your race. Heather and I are both shooting for 4:05 ks early on and, after turning left on Michigan and again on Government, we stride out past The Empress and the 1K mark, clocking a comfortable 4:04. Then it’s onto Wharf St. and up to the Blue Bridge, passing the mile mark as we go. Right around 6:35; just where we want to be. We turn right onto Johnson and flash past the 2k marker. 4:07 on the clock, so still right there. Mikey P is still with us at this point, but soon starts to edge away.   As we cross Douglas, Henry ‘Man Kong’ Chan rips by, calling out: “We’re a bit behind pace,” as he hares off towards a 1:24-something half-way split. Man Kong, but looking more like Boy Kong despite his 37 years, is also shooting for a 2:49 – and determined not to let it slip away early. My game-plan is to do 4:05s for the first 5k, then try to up the pace stakes.   We turn right onto Cook and pass the 3k mark – 4:09 on the Garmin, though the actual K marker is 20 yards further on. Down to Cook and Southgate and the first aid station at 4k (4:00k Garmin split). Heather and I are still running together, and have been joined by Suzanne Evans and Davey Frilund, though Dave motors clear of us after grabbing some water – or perhaps being galvanized by a gobful of GuBrew.   Heading forth, we turn right onto Park and right again onto Heywood, passing the 5k mark (4:03 split). 5k split is 20:35-40, so slightly above the 20:25 we were shooting for. We felt good and were now a triumvirate; myself, Heather and Suzanne. I introduced Suzanne to Heather, saying they were both likely running a similar pace today (perhaps for a 2:52 marathon), as the first 5k of the race had demonstrated. We pass Heather’s family and friends several times during this section; along with our great friend Dr. Shu Sanatani (a seven-time Victoria marathoner & frustratingly sidelined this year by plantar fasciitis). What a combined cheering squad, though! They were everywhere; Andrea and the Durkin crew, then Shu — playing tag-team support around each corner.   We turned left on Southgate, then left onto Arbutus and headed down towards Beacon Hill Park. Arbutus blends left into Bridge Way and we then took a right back onto Heywood and another short sharp onto Circle Drive, beginning our loop of BHP. We passed the 6k marker just as we turned onto Circle; and a 4:15 reflected the first hilly section, a la Beacon Hill.   Running a complete counter-clockwise loop of Circle Drive and Dallas Road, we skipped through the 7k mark, a little slower (4:16), and then turned right back onto Heywood and right onto Park, passing the 8k mark (4:02) at a more encouraging pace. H, S & I had now been joined by a mass pack of guys, led by Tom McCarthy, one of the famous McCarthy brothers, who I knew when fit was pretty quick. He was clearly a bit off his usual 2:40-something standards today, but was perhaps pacing some of his buddies. Turning right onto Cook again and then left onto Dallas, our group of now 10-15 passed through the 9th K in 4:09. We then surged down past Clover Point and Ross Bay to the 10k mark, hitting that in 41:28 (with a 4:01 10th K). We were now somewhat off 2:49 pace, but looking solid for a Sub-2:55.   K11 took us down through Hollywood Crescent and around Gonzales Bay and we comfortably clipped off a 4:07 heading into K12. Our power-pack was still largely in tact, though a couple of guys had begun to edge ahead — obviously having lunch reservations to keep — including a guy we’d Christened Sau Paulo (because he was wearing a bright yellow shirt with Sao Paulo written on the back. Ingenious). From Crescent, we turned left onto Irving and then left again onto Fairfield, before taking a right on Richmond and passing the 12k mark. Split was 4:08, so slightly off 2:52-pace, but still right in the ball park for 2:55.   After negotiating Richmond, we swung right onto Richardson and were now approaching the point where the marathon route splits off from the half-marathon route. We passed the fourth aid station beside the park on Richardson, then turned left onto Lawndale and quickly right onto Quamichan (taking care over that speed bump!) and then right again onto Cowichan. When Cowichan reaches Richardson, you’re at the 13 km mark of the race – and it’s here that the marathoners go left and the half-marathon goes right. Heather, Suzanne and I were still running together, with remnants of the big pack spread out before us.   We crossed Foul Bay Avenue, and Richardson then became McNeill. The next K marker was just along here and we clocked 4:05 for K13. Any hopes of a 2:49 had long since Gone for a Burton (UK reference alert), but a 2:54-something was still very much a possibility. We now began the Oak Bay “finger”, so called because… it’s shaped like a finger. Well, a bent index one. Left onto Hampshire (passing the 14k mark – 4:04 – at the end of it), left on Granite, right on Mitchell and right on Oak Bay Avenue for five blocks, hitting 15k (Split: 4:07) just before we turned right onto Monterey.   Down Monterey, left on Windsor and then right on Oliver, down to Beach Drive. We passed 16k about 2/5ths of the way down Oliver, which offered a nice bit of downhill and was reflected in our K time (3:59). Turning left onto Beach Drive, we hit the next aid station, and soon after cruised through the 17k mark (4:04). We then headed left along Beach and past Victoria Golf Club. I watched a guy nail a green-side bunker shot (backspin ‘n’ all) and shouted: “Nice shot!” as we flew by. K18 was negotiated in 4:18, so slightly slower than planned, but we’d had a hill in there. Overall, still solid. Heather’s husband Chris and friend Jen were riding the course on their bikes and came up alongside at various points during this section (as well as many others) to give us an adrenaline boost.   After chuggabooming by the golf club, we hit the Oak Bay Marina, Willows Beach and Cattle Point in quick succession – clicking off Ks 19 (4:08) and 20 (4:08). Some consistency there. It was around this point that Heather pulled out her iPod headphones and said she needed a bit of inspiration. I thought it was my conversation – or perhaps lack of it. But she smiled and seemed OK. Little did I know the music was more to mask a body beginning to rebel. I felt good and pushed on a little, trying to bridge the gap to Suzanne, who’d now stretched on ahead.   Realizing I was leaving Heather behind, I turned back and checked she was OK with a thumbs-up/question. She gave me the thumbs-up back. I called for her to keep me in sight. There’s kind of an unwritten rule – especially among friends and team-mates – that, unless we’re specifically there to pace one or the other, we should run our own races and push on if we feel good; give it everything we’ve got on the day, for ourselves and for the team. I still felt a little guilty for leaving Heather behind, but knew there was a turnaround coming up – and plenty of outstanding support for her (from family and friends) out on the course. She still looked strong and seemed to be having fun, though it was still early.   We hit 21k (4:13) and then half-way in around 1:27:41; nicely on course for a 2:55, Sub with a negative split. I’d caught Suzanne back up at this point and she asked me what was with the sudden burst of speed at half-way? I said I was starting my finishing kick early; winding things up with 21k to go. An interesting tactic, for sure – but I felt good. Strong. And knew if I could bottle this feeling I’d make a fortune…  

Part II…

Sunday, October 9th (ctd…)   I’ve now edged a little ahead of Suzanne as we take a right turn around Cattle Point (I don’t recall seeing many cows), then a left-leading chicane up past Uplands Park and on to the K22 marker. My split was 4:07, so right on Sub-2:55 pace. I feel good and resolve to ramp things up a notch, without going nuts. The turnaround (at 23k-and-a-bit) is rapidly approaching and I’m looking forward to seeing how those ahead of me — including several friends and team-mates — are progressing. Race leader Thomas Omwenga has long since flashed by in the other direction (on his way to a 2:14:33 course record and $7000 pay-day), along with a clutch of pace-setters including last year’s winner Philip Samoei and VFAC’s Graeme Wilson (in a mini-cluster with Oliver Utting and Aaron Heidt), Drew Nicholson and Marky Bennett.   Barry is the next VFACer to appear, steaming back down the course and looking as fresh as a daisy. I wanted whatever he was having (seven Clif Shot Bloks and a few swigs of H2O, as it turned out; plus a beer and three glasses of red wine the night/day before). We exchange a high-five and I tell him to “Keep it going!”. A minute or two later Davey F breezes back past me, looking like his mojo is firmly engaged.  If ever two guys had “PB-waiting-to-happen,” written in their race- scripts, Barry and Dave were them. I make the left turn onto Exeter and pass through Aid Station 7, just past Oak Bay Marina at Glenlyon/Norfolk School. I was taking water now-&-again, but ran straight through his one. Just up on the left I spot a tall, lanky guy in skimpy shorts stretching against a tree. As I get closer I realize it’s Yannick. Arrrgggh! He’d had a piriformis issue going into the race and it looks like it’s come back to haunt him. Hopefully I’m wrong, though. I pass through the 23k mark right around the aid station and my split’s 3:57. Nice.   My great friend Mikey P and I pass each other in opposite directions around 100 yards from the 180-degree u-turn. I get ready to high-five him, but he’s running to the left side of the road with his head bowed. Clearly things aren’t going to plan. Not least because I’m rapidly catching him – and usually don’t even begin to make any ground on his traditional rampaging start until the last 5k or so. I make the turn with Suzanne not far behind and stride back down Exeter with the focus of a dog chasing a squirrel. Heather is only 30-40 secs behind and I shout encouragement as she passes me going the other way. I then pass Yannick again; he’s now engaged in a part-yoga, part-Twister-winning stretch in a bid to loosen up his piriformis. It looks ominous. I shout encouragement and he returns in kind. It later transpires Yannick wasn’t alone in trying to fend off injury during the race. Helen, one of VFAC’s top lady Masters, was also engaged in an early body battle. Ms. Ritchie would valiantly attempt to defeat her foe, but in the end her head overruled her heart.   I turn back onto Beach and approach the 24k mark. I spot VFACer Charles coming the other way and we both instinctively veer towards the centre of our respective lanes to share a stinging high-five. I think we both got a healthy jolt of adrenaline from that one. I pass through the 24k mark (4:01 split) and feel great. I spy Coach Johnny, Will and I think Jim D up ahead and do my best to improve my form as I run by. I’m now within about 20 metres of Mikey and closing fast.   I reach Mike and ask how it’s going – knowing not well, but wanting to spark conversation. “Not as well as for you, by the looks of things,” he says. He’s decided to experiment a bit with his race nutrition for this one, making it more open-plan and trusting to instinct. I thought this might be contributing, but it could have been any number of things (and an IT band issue turns out to be the most prominent). I offer him a gel. He says he’s OK. I encourage him to “Keep going, you’ll get it back.” Maybe not in this race, but you’ll get it back. And after another colossal collection of long-distance running and racing — and a prized Western States silver belt buckle in his pocket — Mikey already has an incredible 2011 to reflect on with pride. Anything else would be a bonus.   The stretch between Ks 24 and 25 has fond memories for me. This was my fifth Victoria Marathon and I’ve almost always felt good during this piece of the puzzle. I feel doubly buoyed this year, as I pass my surrogate big-sisters and VFAC legends Kate and Laura, giving their usual kick-ass support from the sidelines and helping fire up my adrenaline another notch. As we head back to Cattle Point and turn right, I pass the 25k marker with 4:05 on my Garmin. I turn right then left and head back along the Oak Bay stretch of Beach, clicking a 4:07 for K26 en route. Powering round to the left and towards the right turn on Oliver, I hit K27 in 3:57 and am feeling on top of the world. Heather’s family and friends once again seem to be everywhere, hollering encouragement at every corner. A Sub-2:55 is surely all-but in-the-bag? Boy, do I still have a lot to learn. Or I’m losing my memory.   I’m now heading back towards Victoria Golf Club and hear the chime on my Garmin 405 for K28 – 4:05. Fittingly. I make the turn right, shanking round the corner of the golf club and try to really drive into the first ascent of the rolling hill section. Still a fair way to go, but if I can stay on par from here I know I’ll enjoy sinking one afterwards. K29 is a little slower though (4:28) and, almost in the time it takes to duck-hook one out-of-bounds, my legs are suddenly feeling a little the worse-for-wear. After a string of birdies (in the K-split stakes), I brace myself for a run of bogeys.   Another hill – and this one seems so much steeper and longer than I remember from years past. I haul my way up, down, round to the right and then left, spying the K30 marker and accompanying aid station in the distance. I also spot Tom McCarthy just up ahead, clearly struggling. As we approach the 30k mat, I yell out to Tom to veer left, else he’ll miss the timing mat. The 30k mat was set on the left side of the road and many blinked and missed it (Race Headquarters’ results list displays the evidence). I’m not sure Tom hears me – or perhaps he was purposely evading the mat. His race was clearly on a downward spiral. “Hey man, keep it going; try and hang on to me,” I say, as I pass by. But he now appears to be running in soft cement and verbal encouragement can only do so much.   My split for K30 was 4:27 and my 30k split 2:04:54. Even allowing for the hilly bit things are slipping, if retrievable. I turn right, back onto Oliver, and try to reinvigorate my legs through willpower and sheer bloody-mindedness. Despite dropping a gel and having to turn back to retrieve it, I get K31 down to 4:23; not great, but better. I shave a little more off Ks 32 and 33 — down to 4:17 and 4:19 respectively — as I negotiate the Oak Bay “finger” in reverse. Super-Shu (Sanatani) is now popping up everywhere again, and it’s during my second point of the finger that we high-five and he tells me it’s “going to be my day.” Soon after I pass Coach Johnny and Will again, screaming encouragement. Coach tells me I’m on Sub-2:55 pace, and this keeps my spirits high as I gear up for the home stretch. Less than 10k to go.   Coming back down Hampshire, after taking Monterey, Oak Bay, Mitchell and Granite, I hear a volunteer shout out to a runner closing rapidly on me, “You’re a Top 5 lady!” It’s Suzanne. She’s coming on strong in the latter stages (as his her trademark) and will quickly disappear off into the distance. Powerful finishing in this vein helped Ms. Evans secure three successive RVM crowns from 2005. I hope eating her dust will at least give me some extra energy, as I’m suddenly flagging. I turn right onto McNeill and approach the 34k mark and major aid station (at Lawndale and Richardson). I’d taken five gels up to this point; one at 9k and then another every 5k following. I pass on the offer of a PowerBar top-up (feeling a little nauseous), but take some water and an electrolyte capsule (I’d already downed three of the latter on a deceptively warm and sweat-inducing morning). My split for K34 is 4:34 and the wheels are seriously starting to loosen.   We head back to the half-marathon split at Richardson and Cowichan, before turning left on Richmond, left on Fairfield and right on Irving. I shuffle forth, through K35 in 4:40. I haven’t hit the wall full-pelt, but I’m kind of grazing against some of the bricks. Barring a miracle, the best I can now hope for is to break 3; but even that’s in doubt. I’ve taken my last planned gel and know any more won’t have any physical benefit from here. I take one more electrolyte, chewing through the casing and swallowing the powder, thinking it’ll get to my muscles more quickly. No signs of cramp yet, but I need to stay one step ahead of the twinges.   Right on Crescent, left on Robertson and then left on Hollywood Crescent, the course takes us back around Gonzales Bay and onto Dallas Road, where the returning sea views are very welcome. I hit K36 in 4:34, then K37 in 4:45. If I maintain this pace for the final 5, a Sub-3 is out-the-window. It’s around this point that Shu appears again, riding alongside on his bike shouting advice and encouragement. “Pick up your cadence, increase the turnover. Come on! And catch that guy in red. Don’t let him get away. You can still get this back!”   I’m not convinced the encouragement is going to help, but it would turn out to be just the tonic, at exactly the right time. I tackle the next hill with more gusto and catch the guy in red (who turns out to be Jaime Robb, making his marathon debut). A little VFAC cheering crew to my right — featuring Janette, Amanda, Alex (I think, though I was hallucinating somewhat at this stage… is that a monkey playing a banjo?) and a cluster of fellow Blue Train carriages — buoys my spirits further, as I slug out K38. My splits for Ks 38 and 39 are slow; I top 5 (5:02) for 38 and only shave it down a bit for 39 (4:47). But there were hills in there (at least I think there were… there had to be!) and I know the last 3k will be significantly friendlier terrain.   After heading past Holland Point and into the heart of James Bay, my wheels feel tighter and my tyres like slicks. I have my mojo back. Jaime (Robb) was hanging close and Carl Reilly (who I’d be chasing down at the finish) had been dropping back then surging ahead in the last few K. I chat to Jaime and tell him we’re on course to go Sub-3, but need to maintain this pace. He’s game. We clip through 40k and my split’s 4:14; more like it. We then make the right turn at Ogden Point, passing the 25 Mile mark and pretty soon the 1-mile-to-go sign springs into view. We have about seven minutes to play with if we’re going to break three.   At this point, my legs pretty much kick into auto-pilot, going as fast as they possibly can to sync with the timing challenge and race-for-the-line. We turn right onto Erie and flash by the 41k mark; 4:17 on the watch. OK, I think. Left onto St. Lawrence and the 1k-to-go sign; a whisker over 2:56 on the watch. Should make it. Right onto Kingston, left on Montreal, right on Quebec, left on Pendray and then right onto Belleville; the finish now straight ahead, though out-of-sight, due to a couple of subtle left turns along the way. At the Belleville (final) turn, I see and hear Will: “Come on Johhhhnnnny! You got this!” Another jolt of adrenaline just at the right moment. I give Mr. M the V for Victory/Peace sign and make that final turn, before putting my foot-to-the-floor.   800m-to-go (where I spot the exact tree Nancy T was hiding under, cheering me on to my first Sub-3 three years ago).  Then 500m… 400m and I’m at about 2:58 and change. I know as long as I get to 200m with at least a minute to spare, I’m good. I pass marathon ace Uli Steidl’s wife Trisha, who has suffered in the final miles, but will still be right around three hours. Carl has stretched out ahead, but I’m catching him, while Jaime’s trying desperately to hang on behind. It’s going to be tight.   The crowds are now lining Belleville Street, left and right; screaming and cheering encouragement and support. I’ve raced around the world, including the five Marathon Majors, but the Victoria finish is hard to beat. 200m-to-go and I’m at about 2:59:05. I know friends and VFACers – including videographer Rick, Davey Stephens, Andrew and Karyn – are roaring us home left, right and centre, though all the noise merges into one mass cheer as I gun it for the line. I hear Stevie King in the distance call out my name (and out of my earshot, add some very kind words which made my Mum & Dad – watching via live webstream back in England – very proud).   I know I’ll be under three now and rip off my cap, waving it to the crowd in celebration. I then start showboating a bit, counting down the clock with the fingers of my right hand, knowing that, right in this moment, I have time in the palm of my hand. I give a final fist-pump to the crowd and then kick it in to the finish, chasing in Carl (Reilly) and crossing the line in 2:59:48 (2:59:44 chip). I crash through into the finish area and give a small cluster of volunteers an impromptu hug to soften my momentum and help me come to a halt. My final full K split is 4:06 and my pace for the final .2 (or so), 3:29/K.   I get my bearings and thank a volunteer who hands me a cup of GuBrew. To my right I spot Barry and we shake hands. I ask him how it went and he said really well. “What was your time?” “2:47:30.” “Holy crap!” An unbelievable effort from Mr. Young. Davey Frilund is there, too and we share a mini-man-hug as he tells me he clocked 2:53; a two-minute PB and the well-deserved fruits of his revised training. More days (six-a-week), but also a more hard-easy schedule. At 55 years young he’s finished 30th overall and won his age group. Barry and Dave, two of the performances of the day.   Chatting to Barry just after finishing, I spot Jaime coming in just behind Trisha Steidl. The official clock shows 3 hours and 3 seconds maybe for Jaime; but I tell him there’s a good chance he’ll be under chip-time. He would make it… by two seconds! Awesome. Sao Paolo follows at around 3:03; he’d been on 2:55 pace at half-way, but slowed in the second half. Then Tom McCarthy; not his finest hour, but for a guy who apparently hit the wall pretty hard, a still respectable time. And Margreet (Dietz). What a performance from the Squamish resident. Two weeks after posting a 3:09 in Bellingham she’s a run a PB (3:06:06) in a ‘warm-down’!   Barry and I stay at the finish-line watching others come in. We’re particularly looking out for Heather and Mike – and hopefully Yannick. No sign of any of the three initially, until – with 3:09 and change on the clock – Barry says he’s spotted Heather and Mike in the distance. They’re apparently coming in together… very slowly.   Mike in fact appears to be holding Heather’s hand and talking to her, though she’s pretty delirious. Having endured a full-on Big-Daddy hitting-the-wall experience in her first marathon, she’s kept things going remarkably well. But her tank gauge has flicked to empty in the final run-in – and she’d actually fallen down a couple of times. Mike just happened to be passing (what were the chances?) and at a second glance, saw it was Heather. He’d made a beeline in her direction as she struggled to her feet again and then grabbed her left hand with his right, talking to her and willing her to run if she could. Heather’s able to and the pair jog into the line together, H still pretty out of it, but aware that there’s some kind of Knight in Shining (Blue) Armour to her left. Spectators are cheering and applauding; many of the women swooning and wanting to know if this heroic guy — with the torso of a Canadian-Ukrainian Adonis — is married?   We’re all choked up as they cross the line, Heather initially part-collapsing into Mike’s arms, before she’s swarmed by the excellent volunteers and medical guys, and led off into the medical tent. There’s talk of giving her IV fluid, but she’s able to survive without, and regain her compass with several cups of GuBrew. Barry and I hang around and husband Chris soon jumps the railings (from spectator side) to come and join Heather. I keep H topped up with GuBrew, as Chris comforts her and helps her regain her bearings. She makes good progress and is able to leave the medical tent after an hour or so, to the great relief of her family and friends. After an afternoon of extra rest back at her hotel, Heather’s able to make it out for the second VFAC social at Swans Brew Pub, early evening.   After Helen made the brave-but-sensible decision to pull the plug on her race around a quarter distance in (and avoid serious injury), Yannick unfortunately had to follow suit — dropping out just over 23K in, then walking almost 7 to the 30k mark to catch a ride back downtown. It was a courageous attempt, knowing he wasn’t 100 per cent. The remarkable Ms. Ritchie and formidable Frenchman will be back to fight another day. On a brighter note, Alicia (June Mary Penelope Margaret July Woodside) knocked four minutes of her PB in clocking a terrific 3:20 time and Charles helped the VFAC Masters men seal glory in the team event with a solid 3:33.   After leaving the race area, I head back for a shower, then to the marathon awards. It’s fun climbing up on stage with VFAC team-mates Drew, Barry and Alicia to collect the Open team winners’ trophy, and hang out with running legends Kathrine Switzer and Bart Yasso. Master Charles fulfills one of his life ambitions when he meets pioneering first lady Boston marathoner Kathrine (as part of the victorious VFAC Masters team) and wastes no time telling her this after sprinting up to the stage (did he really just run a marathon?), vigorously shaking Ms. Switzer’s hand (and her arm almost off its hinges). Kathrine tries to calm Mr. Mackey down by asking if he’s going to propose? To which Charles replies: “Yes, will you marry me?” Ms. Switzer replies: “That’s the second proposal I’ve had today!” So was that a maybe then?   After all the fun of the fair at the awards, we head to the Irish Times, where I quaff a Guinness and devour an Irish bacon burger in record time; appropriately chatting to Irishman Brian and Irish lady Laura as I munch and gulp. Then it’s back to the hotel briefly, before joining Mikey, Amiel, Heather’s crew and the VFAC posse for a cool night of Swans celebration. Heather is back on top form and looking like she hasn’t run a marathon, let alone endure and win a personal battle-of-the-ages in completing her maiden voyage. Rumour has it Barry’s going to change into his birthday suit before the night’s out and perform a streak across the Blue Bridge; a goal he’d set himself if he bested 2:50 in Victoria. Amanda wastes no time signing up as chief photographer (was she at the Bare Buns run?) and has a list of 10 signed up within minutes. Ultimately the idea and enthusiasm for it fizzles out, as alcohol and incoherency take centre stage — so the Blue Bridge doesn’t become the blue bridge after all. Bare buns and baguettes remained in the bakery… and perhaps it was for the best.     Monday, October 10th   Mikey and I go for a 10k cool-down, followed by a Starbucks special the morning-after-the-marathon-that-was. Like-father-like-son, my voice sounds several octaves lower following a night of no-holds-barred drinking. Which for me these days is three pints of Pumpkin Spice ale (and a Guinness a few hours before). The run is just like old times — when Mr. P & I did quite a few far-out runs as Langley and Surrey neighbours — and no doubt great for our legs, too. It’s a bit of a struggle in the beginning, but by the end of the run much of the stiffness and aching has subsided. After downing another Grande Soy Cafe Misto, Grande Americano  and a flapjack (Island Oat Bar) apiece, we head back to our hotels. Shower, breakfast, check-out and another lunch at the Noodle Box with Amiel, Barry and Alicia follow, before we all head to Schwartz Bay for the 4pm ferry, homeward-bound.   Another magical mystery tour of a race weekend and experience – and one which I wish could be repeated every month. There really is nothing quite like the marathon; a test of speed, endurance, courage and pure heart. The 2:49 goal was reset for another day; ditto the Sub-2:55. But on a day when things could have slipped away, I was proud to hang in there and bank a fifth Sub-3. Prouder still, to share the experience with friends, enjoy incredible support, and witness the courage, camaraderie and kindness that make runners stand out from the crowd.   Vancouver 2012 here we come. See you there.  

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