offside flag

10 Kilometres to Soreness

(For those of you interested, I ran in a 10K event on Saturday, May 28. The following chronicles what was in my mind before, during, after the race.)

5:45 PM — I arrived at City Hall, near the starting line. I felt excited. I didn't know the excitement was due to nervousness or anxiousness. Around me people were talking, warming up, and cooling down (a 5K event began an hour ago).

6:10 PM — Went to the washroom to change into my running gear. It seemed that the washroom line-up, which consisted mainly of people running the 10K, was longer than the line-up at the starting line. Made me wonder if those people at the back of the washroom line-up will still be waiting when the race begins.

6:15 PM — I went to have my bag checked.

6:20 PM — 10 minutes before the race. I joined the crowd near the sign that said "Finish Time: 60:00". Other runners were warming up and talking to each other. I heard someone talking about why the starting line is set up so that the faster runners would be at the front of the line. Then another runner (probably a friend of the first runner) suggested having the elite runners start the race at the end of the time. It sure would make their race much more interesting, trying to pass all the slow runners (inlcuding me, of course).

6:30 PM — The gun went and people began to move, slowly. Then the crowd suddenly stopped. I didn't know why the people stopped. The only cause I could think of was that there was a gridlock at the starting line. Before long, though, the crowd began moving again.

6:34 PM — I crossed the starting line. Beeping sounds were heard everywhere as the runners' feet hit the mat and the underlying sensors detected the chips attached to the runners.

6:40 PM — The crowd on the sidewalks were cheering at us, wishing us good luck and encouraging us. Some people held up signs. I knew my name wasn't on the signs, but I responded as if they were.

6:51 PM — I hit a wall (not literally) and my feet were not as fleet as the beginning. However, I knew I had covered more than a quarter of the distance. I, along with many who were running at a pace similar to mine, saw the leaders running on the other side of the river. Some of us began to applaude to them. I wasn't sure if they heard us, but that motivated me to keep going.

6:53 PM — I saw the marker saying "3km" and began to feel thristy. I thought to myself, I will see water station soon, since the brochure stated that there is a water station every 3km. So I put my thrist into the backburner.

6:59 PM — No sight of any water station, as I crossed the 4km marker.

7:05 PM — I crossed the 5km marker and saw the timer saying 34 minutes and 40-something seconds (I don't remember what was displayed on the final digit). Still no sight of any water, other than the river. I was more than halfway done and there's still no water station. How can it be? There might have been a shortage of volunteers, but the organizers could have sent some of the volunteers to set up a water station in the first half of the route.

7:07 PM — I should have brought a filled water bottle!

7:12 PM — Finally! Water and Gatorade. I grabbed a couple of cups from the volunteers and gulped the contents down. Ahh! Water never tasted so good. I didn't even care that (about) half of the liquid was spilled onto my shirt.

7:18 PM — My feet began to hurt and my legs began to tighten. I am almost three-quarters through the course. I can't give up now.

7:20 PM — Oh no! The 65 minute pace bunny just went past me. My goal was to finish the course in less than 65 minutes. I have to get my legs going again or else I won't make my goal.

7:23 PM — The pace bunny was behind me again. But I have to keep running, or it will pass me again.

7:29 PM — The people on the sidewalks were cheering and saying "Only a kilometre and change to go". I tried to gather all the energy and finish the final stretch.

7:33 PM — 500 metres to go. I was tired, sweat was all over my back, and I couldn't feel my legs. The only thing keeping me going was that I am almost there.

7:35 PM — The finish line was in sight. Forget about anything else, I thought, and run for it. I began to dash (or as fast as I could muster at that time).

7:38 PM — 1 hour, 7 minutes, and 55.9 seconds after I crossed the starting line, the finish line was finally behind me. It took longer than I had hoped. All I wanted at that time was to get some replinishment. So thristy.

7:40 PM — A volunteer removed my chip and another handed me a finisher medal (this is probably the only way I will ever earn a bronze medal). I walked over to the recovery area and grabbed some water and snacks.

7:50 PM — I went to retrive my bag. Then I went to change into some dry clothes.

7:55 PM — A crowd had gathered around a board displaying the results. People were packed like sardines. The people at the back squeezed those in front and the people squeezed side-to-side. Hey! Don't push. You won't see your result any faster if you push those in front of you.

7:58 PM — Found my name on the list. My chip time (the time between when I cross the starting line and when I cross the finish line) was 1:04:03. One can say I finished the course in less than 65 minutes, but I would have preferred to cross the finish line within 65 minutes of the gun firing. Now, how to get out of this crowd?

8:10 PM — Time to find something to eat. Boy, am I hungry?

9:15 PM — It's time to go home. All I thought on the ride home was to lie down on a chair when I get home. My legs sure would appreciate the rest after what I made them went through.