The Waterloo Half Marathon: A Narrative

If I’m going to be honest, I should say that I didn’t really expect to enjoy running a half marathon. That is, I expected to enjoy the scenery, thinking time, and bragging rights, but I wasn’t so sure all of that would outway the fact that I paid to wake up early on a Sunday morning to do an activity that I could do for free. As it turns out, I was wrong - it was totally worth it.

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At 6 am, my radio alarm goes off. On such a day, routine is important - I don’t stray from what works. Get out of bed. Lift weights. Go downstairs for breakfast: a banana, tea, PB&J on whole wheat, 2 hard-boiled eggs, yogurt. Get dressed and get out.

The drive to Betchel Park is short and there’s still more than an hour until the half marathon begins. I go to register and pick up my number: 384. On the flip side of the paper is an embedded chip to track start and finish times. I also get a bag with a t-shirt and several advertisements and coupons.

Now’s the most stressful part: sitting and waiting. I go back to the car, turn on the radio, and shove my hands against the heater. I get really lucky with the playlist. The stations in Waterloo are notorious for playing the same songs over and over, but there are enough good songs to keep me distracted and singing along. Only once do I need to change the station when either ‘Somebody That I Used To Know’ or ‘We Are Young’ comes on. How are they both currently the top two songs?

8 o’clock passes (the start time for the full marathon) and I get out to warm up my legs and to make sure the paper pinned to my front is in a place where it won’t bother me. I head over to the starting line just in time to hear the co-ordinator give a two minute warning. Unsure where to go, I fit myself somewhere in the middle of the pack and wait.

My nerves evaporate quickly following the starting buzzer. From here on out, I keep a relaxed pace, consciously trying to avoid the rookie mistake of starting out too strong. For the first 5 - 10 km, I’m paranoid that I might be going too fast as I pass more and more people. It’s not until halfway through the course that groups of people thin out enough for me to concentrate on my own running. 

Thoughts come and go without permanency. The meditative state brakes only for unwillful eavesdropping and constant self-reminders to adjust my form. My brain becomes a coach, speaking in 2nd person: “Arms move at your sides - not across your body. Keep your head up. Push the air back when you run downhill. Pretend that you’re running on eggshells to soften your steps. Yes, that girl is cute, but you’re a sweaty mess, just keep running.”

Every three kilometres or so there is a Gatorade and water station with volunteers handing out the drinks. I refuse to let myself take one until the 15th kilometre. I consider all the free Gatorade I’m missing out on, but I don’t want to ruin my rhythm. When I finally give in and take a cup, I spill a bunch of it on my hand and slow to a walk. Then the unthinkable: tossing the cup on the ground. Sure, there are volunteers picking them up, but it’s fairly windy... “You’ll get over it,” my coach tells me. I still wish there had been garbage cans.

Finally, I see the sign for the 20th kilometre. Only 1.1km to go! I start upping my pace and pass several more people wondering if they’re offended and if they’re going to try passing me in the last stretch. Around the last 700m I match pace just two steps behind another man and soon enough I see the finish line. There’s not enough space or time to pull ahead of him. I know what this is coming down to. We both start sprinting, using up the last of our energy. The spectators are clapping and shouting their congratulations while wondering aloud how either of us still has so much energy. I wonder that myself as I hear the two beeps registering the times of the other man and my own as we pass the finishing gate. Greeting me is a man with a complimentary clay medallion. Nothing registers anymore as I head over to the refreshments table and grab some more Gatorade. My coach speaks to me one last time, “Good job! Your hard work has paid off. Now go walk off that run.”

…

For those of you that will ask, my gun time (starting gun to finish line) was 1:49:14 and my net time (starting line to finish line) was 1:48:47. I came 85/299 overall, 66/144 for men, and 1st for men under-20. As it turns out, there was only one other person in my category. Still, not bad for a first race!

Though it was nice to receive a prize, I did the run for my own sense of self-accomplishment. It is one of the most rewarding things I have ever done and I thank myself for putting in the effort. I didn’t think that I would want to do another run this summer, but right now I’m considering the Barrie Half Marathon and the Tough Mudder competition. That last one is going to require a lot more preparation than running a few times a week! Also, I still don’t really like the thought of paying for a run unless I’m committed to helping the coordinating charity. So, if and when I actually register, I’ll set up some links for donations to Cardiac Services at Royal Victoria Regional Health Centre and the Wounded Warrior Project.