This report is from the Okanagan Marathon in Kelowna, B.C., Canada. The race was on October 8th, and they had Powergels at the aid stations...I've never been so happy to see Powergels before.:D

Copied from my blog:

I finished my first marathon earlier this year with a time of 3:33, which is (I'm told) totally awesome for a first time marathoner. I'd only been running for about 2 years so I was pretty happy with my success at that point. After a summer of pretty good, heavy training, I was hoping to do 3:15 in Kelowna. 15 minutes faster seemed reasonable to me.

By the time raceday had come though, I had dived headfirst into a classic case of goal inflation. I wanted to do 3 hours and qualify for Boston. I figured I could run 2 1:30 half-marathons no problem. Silly silly me...

I had to run back to the car to drop off my jacket and pants right before the race started and got stuck near the back of the pack when the race started. This was cool in a sense because I knew that I would get the mental boost from passing all these people. Unfortunately I didn't think that would actually get stuck in the back, unable to pass the throngs of people running down the street. It took a long time (20 minutes?) to get myself seeded in a better position where the people around me were running more my pace.

Or what I thought was my pace.

I was breathing pretty easily for the most part, breathing on every third step. Unfortunately race nerves had my heart rate up before the race even started, and my HRM was telling me that my heart was going at 160bpm, which I sure didn't feel like I was going. I would have said 145 max based on feel. Anyways, in fear that I would blow up later on in the race, I stayed where I was and tried to enjoy myself.

Kelowna is the town I grew up in (well, not quite, but I was there from Grades 7 to 12, so all of my adolescence was spent there) and the reason I wanted to do this race was to experience my old town from a new viewpoint: running through it. Being there again and running through the various neighbourhoods I used to live in was a great trip through memory lane, bringing up memories I thought I had forgotten about after 7 years in Vancouver. The marathon was completely worth it for that experience alone.

At the southernmost part of the course we got on to a dirt road that was under construction and began a short but steep climb. I had hit the halfway point and realized that it had taken me 2 hours to get there. I couldn't believe that I was going so slow! It was at this point I slowly came up to and passed the 3:45 pace bunny.

Something inside me snapped. There was no way in hell I was going to finish this race in 3:45. The thought of doing worse than my last marathon wasn't comprehensable to me. I decided it was time to start running.

I came down the hill knowing that the rest of the course was pretty much flat and decided to book it. I ran my ass off, starting at about the 23k mark. I wasn't feeling great, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying to catch up to the 3:30 pace bunny. I was determined to do better than my last race.

I ran at probably the fastest pace I had ever run (training or otherwise) for a long distance run. I was passing runners like they were standing still. I knew they figured I was going too hard and would soon see me walking on the side of the road, but those thoughts only compelled me to run faster. Failure was not an option. My heartrate was hovering at 175 (90% of my HRmax) the entire time. I had no idea how I would be able to maintain such a hard pace for 20k, but somehow the miles ticked down and I was still going.

At the Vancouver marathon I really hit the wall hard at about 30k into the run. My legs felt like lead at that point. This time I was feeling pretty good until about 35k. All I could think about when the pain started was how happy I was that I managed to get an extra 5k further than I did last time. I was still booking it pretty hard, drinking gatorade and throwing back Powergels any chance I could get.

The last4k was absolutely brutal. I was still moving and passing people, but my legs were shutting down. I was worried I was going to bonk hard and have to stop, but I just kept on putting one foot in front of the other, determined not to stop until I hit the finish line. I walked through the last 2 aid stations just so I could hydrate and give my horrible stomach cramps a chance to lessen.

Getting running again after those stations was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My legs were putty and walking was brutally painful. Yet just getting that first stride going and re-initiating the run made me feel a little better. Even the slightest bit of gatorade and a splash of water on my head gave me a %100 energy boost (which unfortuately lasted little more than 30 seconds, but it was enough).

With about 200m to go my calves decided it was time to start cramping. I remember laughing at the fact that it happened now, with the finish line in sight. Thank you calves!

I passed an older man on my way in and he joked about how he would draft off of me on the way in. We laughed and joked as we ran down the finishers chute and I shook his hand and thanked him for the laugh once we crossed the line. Sometimes I think the random encounters like that in a race are what make doing this stuff so much fun.

My final time was 3:36, 3 minutes slower than my Vancouver time, but my splits were the real victory here: roughly 2 hours for the first half, and 1:30 for the second.

In Vancouver my lesson learned was that despite the pain, I could keep running and endure any suffering. In Kelowna I learned that I could endure that pain while hammering on my body at a pace I didn't think I could maintain for more than 10 minutes. I may not have met any of my original goals, but I learned some invaluable lessons that I will take with me into the races I do in the future.

I think the racing season is over for me now. Time to rest, eat lots of food, play some videogames, and start planning for next year.