So he signed up for the Calgary marathon and said to me, "Hey, why not run the 10k?"
What a brilliant idea, I said, and signed up. However (sidestory), due to uncertain lodging details, I invited my friend Allison to join us, and got a hotel room.
Anyway, we headed down on sunny Saturday, met with some Running Maniacs for lunch, then went to get our race kits at the Big Four of the Olympic Park.
Now, let me preface this next statement with the acknowledgement that I was spoiled by the Ottawa Race Weekend, and I know this, and it's not fair, but the Calgary Marathon expo was ... disappointing. Getting my race kit was easy, getting my shirt was easy, finding the bathroom was very easy but there were few exhibitors, it wasn't an easy in-and-out process, and what there was to see just wasn't very exciting. It felt like it needed a face lift.
Fast forward to race-day. We all wake up at 5 a.m. Thankfully, we had laid our race kits out the night before, because I swear if we'd had to think this through the morning of, we would have ended up wearing each other's clothes.
By 6 a.m., we are fed (granola bars) and already heading to the C-train. It is cold outside, at 2C, and it feels colder than we expected (meanwhile, Ottawa's race weekend is enjoying at least 15C). After figuring out the fare payment method, we get the train and arrive, along with the many other racers. How exciting, we're wandering around our first non-hometown race! It's getting close to race-time for Ragnar, and he has to find his regiment buddies. With a send-off and final kiss, Ragnar goes one way and Allison and I head in to check our bags.What marvelous bag-check, there is no line-up for us!
The only thing I might mention at this point is that signs above ankle-reading height would have been nice.
So we wait a bit before braving the cold to get to the start-line. Somehow, Allison and I get in right behind the 50 minute pace-bunny. No matter, though, we'll figure ourselves out. Neither of us are really going for best time.
The gun goes off, and Allison and I move quickly over the starting line. The first two kilometers is pretty hard - the scenery is not very pretty, there are cars trying to make their way through, and I'm really not sure I'll be able to keep this pace up. Into the third kilometer, I'm getting used to the feeling of it. This area is looking a bit nicer, I'm warming up, and my legs are loosening up. By the end of that third kilometer, I've gotten rid of my throw-away sweater, and suddenly, there's a hill. Okay, it's not a huge hill, but it's more hill than I expected! I repeat to myself, "I love hills. I love hills. I love hills. Oh, who am I kidding?" I do actually love hills, but it depends on whether they're thinking kindly of me.
By the fifth kilometer, we're moving into some really nice, trendy areas. A little combination of Bank St. in Ottawa and Whyte Ave. in Edmonton. Allison asks if we want to stop for sushi. For a second, I consider it, but everyone's behind me, so let's keep going. At this point, I have had a stitch which passed, a shin ache that passed, and my knees haven't started yet, so why stop now?
Six and seven pass well, but by eight, my knees have suddenly realized that I wasn't joking, and start to ache a little. This time, the hill starts down, then up, back into the Olympic park. The end must be near, right? Oh no, there's two more kilometers to go. By then, I've seen the Saddledome, and it promises and beckons. The end has got to be around here somewhere.
Back and forth, we go, winding our way to the finish line. Allison and I are saving our breath, but hey, I think to myself, I'm feeling strong, I'm upright, and I can't believe we're already nearly there! The ninth kilometer is through the parking lot, and while I'm amusing myself with mentioning I'm passing the 41st marker in one hour, the joke is kinda getting old. Suddenly, there's a turn, with a big floating arch, so that's the end, right? Oh, I am to laugh!
With 500 meters to go, Allison jets off. I figure I'll get there when I get there by now, and give my knees, who haven't stopped complaining, a little break. As I pass over the timing strip that keeps you honest, I pick it up again. The end is so close! I really can see it! Then I see the time. 1:06:21, and there is no way I'm not beating my first 10k time. I pick up some speed, and make it over as the clock reads something like 1:06:33, and I'm done! Allison and I catch up with each other, congratulations are given on jobs very well done (her, the pacer; me, the amusing but sometimes irreverent side-kick), get our packs, and then go regroup, change, and wait for Ragnar. Pancakes are also devoured.
Three hours later, Ragnar came across the marathon finish line at 4:19:16 (according to my camera). A dash back to the hotel, shower, Starbucks, and leave for lunch. Ragnar was safely ensconced in the back seat with all the room he could get in the back of a four-door Honda Civic.
We are home now, and apart from my previous recounting of the tale, my impressions of Calgary and its running event are:
Calgary's downtown is beautiful. Seriously, Edmonton, WTF.
Starbucks apparently close at 6 p.m. on weekends in DT Calgary. WTF.
Calgary marathon is a fun event, but you go for the run and the Running Maniacs, not for the Expo.
Here ends my tale.
Oh, and lessons learned: when traveling to an event, check the weather expected, and then bring everything anyways. The end is never as near as you want it to be. Stay at a Westin, you can
