8 seconds; My race report

On Sunday, October 16th, I ran my second half marathon.

I was pretty excited for this one, because I had been training with my friends, Sherry and Irene. About 4 months ago they decided to attempt their first try at the distance and asked if they could count on me for some training tips.

I told them NO WAY, I'd run it with them instead.

We were able to work our schedules so that we ran almost every single long run together, which means we ran together at least once a week. We dubbed ourselved "The Running Posse"and our LSDs (long slow distance for those not used to runner speak) were our weekly gab sessions.

Race day came and we were all ready, and thankful that it wasn't raining. It was a cool 8-9 degrees celcius, and windy, but NO rain, so I was relieved.

You truly can't imagine what its like to be surrounded by a crowd of that size. Between the 22, 000 people signed up for the 3 events (5km, half marathon, marathon), the race officials, volunteers and spectators it was one hell of a crowd.

I had warned my running posse that the start would be kind of anti-climatic, and that it was. The race started and we all just stood there, and waited. Then walked a few steps forward. And waited. It kept going like that until 11 minutes later, we crossed the start line and started to run.

We all were feeling good and kept a quick steady pace. It was quicker than we planned on, but we all felt great. We were running into the wind for the first 13k, but it wasn't too much of a problem. Once we turned into a tailwind and picked up the pace averaging between 5:45 - 6:00/km

Unfortunately, injuries I sustained in the car accident I was in 20 years ago, have recently flared up. My physiotherapist has done a great job in holding me together for the race, but it was hard to predict what would happen race day. At 15k, I could feel a twinge behind my knee, and adjusted my gait to a bit of a longer stride, which helps.

I let my running posse know that I was going to be struggling soon and that they were to go on without me. For me, this race was really all about them. It was their first half-marathon, and you never have another first!

I was able to keep Sherry and Irene in my sights with a pace of about 6:15/km, until about 17.5 km, when everything kind of fell apart for me. My glute muscles, hamstring and hip weren't really functioning anymore and about every 10 steps or so, my leg would collapse, and I would have to stop myself from falling over.

There was no way in hell I was going to run 17.5k and not run the last 3.6!

No. Way. In. Hell.

I kept telling my body "leg up, leg down, leg up,leg down" and " just a few more minutes, just hold out on me for a few more minutes" . I had to really focus on making my body do what it was supposed to. I would run for about 5 minutes, then walk for about 30 seconds.

At one point, at about 18.5km, a volunteer tapped me and asked "do you need me to call you a medic?". My concentration broken, I said "I don't need a fuckin' medic, I just need to finish".

I feel terribly for that poor volunteer, I know he meant well, but I was so startled when my concentration was broken, it just kind of popped out! Sorry!!!

I saw the 20k marker and picked up the pace. I ran the last 1.1k pretty quickly. I really dont know how, but I knew I had to finish soon. I rounded the corner and heard the crowds packed along the last 500 meters. It was so cool. People just kept yelling me name and encouraging me to finish. By that point I was pretty much dragging my leg behind me.

I crossed the finish line again and got my medal. My leg gave out again and I collapsed, but someone caught me before I went down and made sure I was steady on my feet. I declined medical assistance again, because I know there is nothing they can do for me. I have very weak muscles there because of my injuries and I'm working to fix that. It is so very very frustrating though that 20 years later, I still have to fight my body!

I finished with a chip time of 2:20:11. Eight seconds slower than my first half marathon. I alternate between being disappointed in the time. and recognizing that being able to pull off that time while struggling to even finish the race means that I have come far since the race I ran in May. Its just that eight seconds is so. damn. close.

However, as I said before, this race was not about me. In my mind, it was all about my friends and they ROCKED it. Sherry finished with a chip time of 2:13:53 and Irene finished in 2:18:41. I am so very very proud of them. Its funny, because when they started training, they said they hoped to finish "not over 2 hours 30 minutes". I told them I knew they were faster than that.

Its so true that the last leg of a long distance race is a mental game. I truly believe that if I had let the thought enter my mind that I couldn't finish, Iwould have been right. That's why I was so stunned when the volunteer asked if Ineeded assistance. I refused to entertain the fact that I wasn't going to be able to do it!

The biggest disappointment was the baggage reclaim fiasco. I don't know what went wrong, and I am sure the organizers will get it fixed for next year, but seriously. The last thing that people who have run 21.1 or 42.2 kilometers need to do is stand in the cold and wind for 90 minutes or more to collect their bags.

My leg kept giving out, Sherry was going hypothermic. She was so blue and shivering so hard I kept having to try and warm her up with my own body heat.

Otherwise, kudos to the orgainzers for a great event!

I think that the best way to describe the race for me was that while I didnt have a great race, I definitely did a great job!

Misadventure

On Sunday, October 9th, my husband took this picture.

Seems odd, I suppose, taking pictures of yourself in a public bathroom.

For thanksgiving weekend we travelled to Mississauga to spend the holiday with my Mom's family. Every year, Thanksgiving is spent together, rotating between Mississuaga, Sudbury or Pembroke.

We went shopping on Sunday, and made sure to take this picture. Anytime we are out with the kids in a crowded area, or away from our own city, we do this. That way, (shudder), if one or both of the kids were to become seperated from us, we would have a recent picture of them. In the very clothes they were wearing. If, heaven forbid, the police had to search for my kids, they picture that they would release to the media would be the most recent and accurate it could be.

I have acquaintances who have said I was paranoid for doing such a thing. Some who have said it was a good idea but that they would never remember to do it.

On Sunday, October 9th, while shopping in a large retail store, I didn't know where my son was for close to 25 minutes. 25 minutes.

Let me explain.



We were shopping as a group. My husband, myself, our 8 and 5 year old boys, along with my parents. When we walked in to H&M, the men went one way, my Mom and I went another. Not too long after that, my husband and our 5 year old came back over to me and said they were going outside.



"Where's Zack?" I asked



"I guess he's with your Dad", he said.



"You GUESS?", I asked.


"Well he was with us!" he said sarcastically.



I guess this was good enough of an answer for me, because I didn't pursue it further. But really, why would I? My husband is a good father, and I trust him.



Not too long after, my dad sent my mom a message to let her know he was off to find a bathroom. About 5 minutes after that, I started to wonder where they were. We hadn't heard from them at all. I text my father-- Is zack with you



No answer.



I took a quick walk over to the men's section. No Zachary. No Dad. Starting to get a little annoyed, I call my Dad.



No answer.



I text my husband -- Can't find zack


No answer.




FUCK.



In the back of my mind I knew that Zachary was probably with my father. But you know, what? He's 8. Probably isn't enough. Its just not enough.



I did another quick run through the store, calling his name. At the same time, I was calling my husband's cell.


No answer.



I found a sales associate and said, quickly and urgently.



"I may be missing a kid. He might be with my father, but I just don't know. He's not answering his cell and I just don't know. He's wearing a bright orange shirt with adidas on it and denim shorts. He's got dark hair in a brush cut"




Just saying those words---that he was missing, that I didn't know where he was, having to describe his clothing---made my blood run cold.


To my relief, the sales associate acted quickly. She asked all staff to listen to their radios, but to turn down the sound. She explained what was happening and posted herself at the entrance/exit so that Zachary couldn't leave. This was great, because I wanted to be there,and running through the store, and running through the Heartland Town Centre all at the same time.



I kept walking through the store, quickly, urgently, calling my son's name. This continued for close to another 10 minutes when my mom called my name.



"I've got Dad on the phone. He's got Zack. He's got Zack"



Relief. Pure relief. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I still didn't know where he was, but at least I knew who he was with. I knew.



I let the sales associate know that we had found him, that he was safe. Everything was okay.


It was all so simple. My dad decided to go look at some other stores and took Zack with him. He just didn't let me know, that they were together. (and boy, did I let him hear about that!) In fact, they were all together. No one heard their phones.



But at least, if we hadn't found him soon, when we would have made that call to the police. We would have had this picture.


The picture with the little 8 year old boy in the bright orange shirt and the denimn shorts with dark hair, in a brush cut.



So people can tell me that its paranoid to take a picture of my kids when we go out to unfamiliar or crowded areas. If it means I am paranoid, I don't want to be anything else.


Jessica

I'll Go With You

11 years ago, I married Jordan. He is a funny, caring, TALL man. I love him to pieces.

For our first dance, we asked our incredibly talented friend Tracy to sing an Italian song, Con Te Partiro (made popular by Andrea Bocelli).

To say she sang it beautifully would be to underestimate how incredible her performance was. About one minute in to the song, we stopped dancing just so we could watch her seemingly effortless performance. I truly wish I had a recording of her performance. (Hint, Hint T)

In celebration of our anniversary, I thought I would post the song and its English translation here.

I love you Jordan. I'll go with you!

(Sorry, I can't make the video imbed, you'll have to make do with the link!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcrfvP11Hbo

I'll Go With You - Con te Partiro

(E. Sartori - L. Quarantotto)

When I'm alone

I dream on the horizon

And words fail

Yes, I know there is no light

In a room where the sun is absent

If you are not with me

At the windows

Show everyone my heart

Which you set alight

Enclose within me

The light you

Encountered on the street

I'll go with you

To countries I never

Saw and shared with you

Now, yes I shall experience them

I'll go with you

On ships across seas

Which, I know,

No, no, exist no longer

With you I shall experience them

When you are far away

I dream on the horizon

And words fail

And yes, I know

That you are with me

You, my moon, are here with me

My sun, you are here with me

I'll go with you

To countries I never

Saw and shared with you

Now, yes, I shall experience them

I'll go with you

On ships across seas

Which, I know

No, no exist no longer

With you I shall experience them again

I'll go with you

On ships across seas

Which I know,

No, no exist no longer

With you I shall experience them again

I'll go with you

I with you.

Its Not About the Politics

When I heard that Jack Layton had passed away, I was sitting in a room at my chiropractor's office, waiting for my appointment. I sat there in stunned silence. I truly wanted to believe that it was one of those jokes. That someone had hacked a twitter account somewhere and posted a cruel joke. Sadly, it is heartbreakingly true.

When the last election campaign was running, Zachary was very curious about the whole process. He is eight, and they had been talking about it a bit in class. I have always, always exercised my right to vote, and was thrilled to be able to talk with my son about it.

I remember in one discussion, he asked me who I was going to vote for. We spoke a bit about how voting is a private matter and typically it wasn't polite to ask someone who they planned to vote for because it is a personal choice. I then told him that I wasn't yet sure.

Like many Canadians, I was very disenchanted with the system. It seemed that we were forced into another election, but being presented with the exact same choices.

But as I watched the campaign unfold, Jack Layton began to truly stand out.

And it wasn't about the politics.

It was about his positive message, his passion, and his integrity. I didn't necessarily agree with all of his policies. It would be rare that I ever fully agreed with any one party's politics. Jack's character, however, completely impressed me. And that's what truly matters, I think.

If only all our politicians loved Canada and its people as much as Mr. Layton did, and loved the politics just a little less, Canada wouldn't just be great, it would be incredible.

In our election discussions, I tried to explain that eachof the parties' policies are important, but the most important is the integrity of the person. Jack Layton showed that in spades.

I have always voted for the person I felt was best for my riding. In the most recent election, I voted for the person I thought could change Canada.

I truly believe that he already has.

One of the strongest examples of this, for me, is in his farewell letter to Canadians.

He reaches out to others fighting cancer; people he knew identified with his fight and felt they were fighting along with him.

He tells them to keep fighting, and reminds them that there is hope. There is always hope.

I hope that my children have the opportunity to learn more about Jack Layton. He is an incredible role model. Canada - the whole world- needs more people with that kind of heart.

RIP Jack Layton. Thank you.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world. ~ Jack Layton

How are YOU going to change the world?

Jessica

Holiday....Celebrate!

Three long years.

That's how long its been since we have been able to have any semblance of a family holiday. In August of 2008 we took the kids to Great Wolf Lodge for two days and it was a blast. We enjoyed the mini-holiday. It was enough time to get away, have fun and refresh, but not so long that you needed a recovery from the holiday.

We swore that we would do more of these mini-vacations. But then, Jordan got laid off. For 22 months.

So, as one does when this happens, you re-structure the priorities. Vacations fell to the wayside in favor of basic needs and karate memberships. At the time Jordan was laid off, I worked about 30 hours a week. Enough to do the job I loved, but also that I could be home to meet the boys off the bus. When the layoff occured, I was fortunate to take on two extra jobs, but this meant I was working--a lot. Upwards of 80 hours a week.

In fact, when I left for Girlz Weekend 2011 at the end of June, that was the first time I had taken more than two days off in a row in that three year period! Again, although it has been tough, we were fortunate that the opportunity came our way.

But, it means we all really need a break. We need to go away and have f-u-n. So, on Thursday afternoon we leave for Niagara Falls for a 4 day mini-vacation.

Or as I like to call it "Running trip disguised as Family Vacation".

Once my friend Denise and I booked ourselves to run www.thechocolaterace.com, I spoke to hubby about making it into a family vacation.

You know, the kind of vacation where your family waits in the heat for you to finish a long race.

Seriously, though. the kids haven't seen Niagara Falls, nor have they been to Marineland. We have people we can stay with, to lessen some of our costs, so heck.....WHY NOT!? We've decided to spend two nights in a hotel, because we got a great deal on Hotwire and two nights with our friends.

The kids are excited. The hubby is as excited (as excited as he gets), and heck, I'm running a race that has chocolate, so I am CLEARLY excited.

But as much as I love to run, I am so excited to get to spend time with my wonderful kids and husband.

Wish us luck and great weather on Valiquette Vacay 2011!

Jessica

Sunshine

You are my Sunshine

My only Sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are grey

You'll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My Sunshine away

This is Corbett. My how he's grown!



It appears, in spite of all the "You have to eat, if you want to grow up big and tall like Daddy" threats, that even children who don't eat much food will still grow.

This is good, because he really doesn't eat that much. The part that eludes me is how he has the energy to be a ball of non-stop energy. From the time he wakes up until the time he FINALLY goes to sleep, he is constantly on the move.



Corbett is often still awake at 10:30 or 11:00 at night. He goes to bed at 8:30 and talks or sings to himself, then talks to his stuffed animals, and eventually falls asleep. Then, he's up at 6:30, fired up and ready to go.



He is very much like me, that way and frankly, he exhausts me. Hell, Corbett exhausts our dog, and she's a beagle. This is telling. There are very few things that exhaust that dog.

Often, when describing my kids personalities, it is hard to say more about Corbett than "Corbett...well, he's Corbett!" Once you've met him, you just know what I mean.



But here's the thing. When I took the picture above, Corbett kept saying "Sunshine! I'm sunshine!", and you know what? He's right.




He IS sunshine.





Like the sun, when you see Corbett, you can't help but smile. He brightens people's day. Sure, the curly hair and adorable mischeivous smile are a part of it, but its his personality too. He is fun, snuggly and charming. He gives hugs that warm you up all over. He wants to be a part of, and see everything that is going on around him.




But, like the sun, he can be fickle. He is either very very sunny, or he is cloudy and stormy! He switches from one to the other in lightspeed, and it throws me off guard at times.

If you don't pay attention to the sun, you can get burned. With Corbett, if you aren't watching, well, you may soon wish you had been watching. He's GOING to get into something. He's impulsive and he hasn't yet developed the skill of knowing that just because a thought enters your mind, doesn't mean you absolutely MUST act on it.



An exercise in extremes, Corbett can go from laughing and smiling one second to howling in frustration or sadness faster than you can snap your fingers. Kind of like the sun, hiding behind a cloud, only to peek out a few moments later.



Thankfully, more often than not, he is as you see above. Smiling, happy Corbett.

He warms my heart, he gives great hugs. He drives me crazy, and sometimes his mood swings make me worry about his future. He's quirky and he makes me howl with laughter. He does what makes him happy, and doesn't care if people think its weird. Whether he is wearing his shirt backwards, or wearing blue polish on his nails. He does what makes him happy, and that makes ME happy.

He's a great kid. He's my Sunshine.

The Runner's Cheerleader and Lessons Learned

Last night, the kids and I participated in the 20 minute challenge at the Running Room.

Basically the purpose of the event is to encourage people to be active for 20 minutes. Anyone can do that!

The plan was for Zachary and I to run about 5km and for Corbett to ride in the stroller. Being the planner that I am, everything was set the night before--the Chariot stroller was loaded into the trunk, the run clothes were packed.

We were good to go.

Come Wednesday night....it was HOT. HOT and HUMID.

We decided to stick with the plan, but take it nice and slow. Corbett asked if he could run with us and promised he'd keep up. We let him out and off he went. About 100 meters later, he gave up. No surprise there, being "fast" is not his thing. While he was "running" we averaged a 9 minute per KM pace! But, he was having fun, and that's what matters.

Once we got him all settled back in the Chariot, he assumed a new role.

Corbett is probably the best cheerleader for runners ever.

There he was, chilling out in his stroller with his legs crossed, clapping his hands and yelling words of encouragement to everyone we passed, or who passed us!!

"Great job!!"

"Lookin' good!"

"You got this!!"

"GO! GO! GO!"

and one of my personal favorites, "There's a potluck at the store! Go, Go!!!"

Let me tell you, he sure got a lot of smiles and laughs out of all those poor runners, sweating like crazy in the hot, sticky weather!

Which brings me to lessons learned.

When it comes to running with Zachary, I typically let him learn lessons the "hard" way.

He's learning about not starting out too fast on a run by doing just that. He's started out too fast a few times and then struggled to finish.

He's learned that 3 slices of pizza does not make a pre-race meal.

He's learned the value of planning a run around bathroom stops.

The problem is, when you are 8 years old-or any age, for that matter-it is difficult to see the distinction between coach and mom. Or student and child.

Kids love to challenge their parents. They disagree with us just to see what happens. It can be good for them, both to learn to use their voice and to learn their boundaries.

Other times its not so good at all.

A few times before the run, I suggested to Zachary that he have some water and a little bit of food before we leave.

"It's really hot, Zack, you have to make sure you are hydrated. You need lots of water", I suggested.

"I don't want any. I'm fine"

About 10 minutes later, I suggested it again. Five minutes before we were scheduled to take off, I mentioned water again. No go.

Thankfully the lessons he and I learned did not go anywhere near as badly as they could have. What happened was dangerous. It could have been so much worse.

About 2.5km into the run, Zachary said "My heart hurts and I feel dizzy". We immediately slowed to a slow walk. I encouraged Zachary to take some deep breaths and to keep walking slowly, but told him that if he didnt start feeling better soon to let me know right away.

After about 3 minutes, he said he felt fine and wanted to run. I asked him to walk for another few minutes then told him we would run if he still felt okay.

We started to run again at a very leisurely pace. After about 5 minutes, Zachary mentioned that he was dizzy again.

We stopped and slowed to a walk. I told him he had a few minutes, but if he wasn't feeling better he had to get in the stroller. This is not an exciting prospect for either of us--he wants to run, and I don't want to push both kids in that heat, their combined weight is about 115 pounds. But, safety first.

In hindsight, I should have had him get in the stroller right then.

We came to a small, but steep decline. We went single file, with me ahead, as we usually do. The momentum of the stroller meant that I was down the hill pretty quickly, so I turned back to see how Zachary was.

What I saw was my sweet, 8 year old boy, staggering side to side like he was coming back from way too many drinks at a keg party. On a sidewalk alongside a high traffic road.

I ran up the hill, pulling the stroller behind me, until I could grab a hold of him. I basically lifted him with one arm and tossed him in the stroller, then ran the 2km back to the store.

Thankfully, the evening was also a potluck, so there was plenty of water, juice, vegetables, fruit and other drinks and sweets. I just kept telling myself that I had to get him there and he would be fine,

I won't lie. That incident scared the shit out of me. There's nothing quite like the feeling of knowing, that your own actions put your child in danger.

It won't happen again.

So what lessons did we learn?

I hope that Zachary has learned that when we run, I am his Coach. He needs to listen to me just as he does to his Senseis in karate.

I'm there to share knowledge with him, from my own experiences. I'm there to ensure his safety. I'm there to help him be his best. I hope that next time I offer a suggestion, that he trusts my knowledge and does what I ask.

I have learned that even though I am his coach, I am first and foremost his mother. Next time, I'm just going to tell him he has no choice. He's going to drink the damn water.

And, if for any reason, he becomes dizzy again, he goes in the stroller right away. There will always be another chance to run. There will never be another Zachary.