Race day run-down

After a threat of first 90%, then 30% chance of precipitation, race day morning dawned perfectly cool with a mix of clouds and sun.  Not a drop of rain was in sight.  (Thank you, Vancouver!)

Shane and I left the apartment just before 6 a.m. to head to the race start (on the other side of downtown).  We drove over to park in Shane’s work lot, as it’s located right next to the Skytrain, which we planned to take the rest of the way (my monthly transit pass allows me to travel with an extra passenger on Sundays, woo!).  We arrived at the starting line around 6:20, giving us plenty of time to use the Port-a-Potty and stretch.

The half-marathon group lined up as we got closer to 7 a.m. (the official go time for the race).  We jumped in around the middle of the pack, both of us feeling a lot of nerves at that point.  I was anxious about running my first half-marathon; Shane was feeling the pressure of meeting his ambitious time goal (1:45).  But soon we were flowing with the massive, 6,000-strong crowd toward the start.  We wished each other well and set off on our individual journeys to The Black-Eyed Peas “Pump It” blaring over a pair of gigantic speakers.

I felt good from the beginning.  All the time spent tapering (not to mention the pure adrenaline of finally running this long-planned-for event) gave me an extra bounce in my step as we moved into the Gastown portion of the race.  I thought maybe I was running a bit faster than my anticipated 2:15 pace time, but I didn’t know for sure.  (Nor did it really matter; my primary goal was just to finish.)

Around the 10km (or 6-mile) mark, the route followed the seawall leading into Stanley Park and then hopped up on the road that circles the park (Park Drive).  This was when I started to feel nervous again, as the infamous Park Drive hill to Prospect Point was coming up.  Prospect Point is essentially the highest point in Stanley Park, and veterans of this half-marathon will tell you this long, steep climb to the top is intensely challenging (especially being located in the middle of the race).

Thankfully, since Shane and I had done a training run on this hill, I was able to reach the crest without any issues.  It also helped that some amazing spectators were lining the road, yelling encouragement at the top of their lungs (supportive words can do wonders for tired legs).  And the downhill on the other side?  That was almost worth the pain of ascending (almost).

Soon I hit the 10-mile mark and began running along Beach Avenue.  A large crowd had gathered by English Bay Beach to cheer us on, so that was a nice boost.  I definitely struggled as we entered the last 3km (about 2 miles remaining).  My calves were burning like they’ve never burned before, but I knew we were close, so I pushed through the discomfort.  And sure enough, soon the end was in sight.

If you’ve never experienced the finish line of a race, it is simply incredible.  The enthusiasm from the assembled crowd and the pick-up in pace by just about every runner out there is electrifying.  I flew through the end, crossing the finish with my arms held high and cheering as loudly as my tired lungs could handle.  I recently heard this moment described as empowering, and I couldn’t agree more.  I felt like I could take on absolutely anything.

Shane and I met up within minutes of my finish, both with the AWESOME news that we had done better than we’d hoped.  I managed my first 13.1-miler in 2:05:24, ten minutes faster than I expected to be (holy shit); Shane broke his half-marathon PR by nearly six minutes, completing in 1:43:12 (well under his goal).  Hell yeah!

Basking in the post-race, post-brunch glow

We then made our way back to Shane’s work to shower up - a logistical decision made because we had reservations in the restaurant just above Canada Place at 11:30.  This particular place - Café Pacifica in the fancy Pan Pacific hotel - is known in Vancouver for its extravagant (and yes, expensive) brunch buffet, which we were eager to partake in.

After logging the longest distance I’ve ever run, that food tasted fucking delicious.  There were freshly-squeezed juices, assorted pastries, salads, fruits, sushi, dim sum, stir fry, salmon and sole, bacon and sausage, (every kind of) meat and potatoes, omelettes and eggs Benedict, and the most beautiful dessert spread you can imagine.  We lingered there for a couple of hours, taking our time through four (yes, four) separate buffet trips.  It was a wonderful way to end what was truly a spectacular morning.

And - as you might expect when everything goes so perfectly according to plan - it wasn’t long before we were discussing when we might want to train for another half to do it all over again.