Blue noses...warm hearts

Woody Allen once said: "80% of success is showing up."

After much debate, a nagging injury and a whole lotta self doubt about doing my first half marathon, I decided to take his advice and just show up. I figured the only way to finish was to at least start.

So in the wee hours of May 17th, I sucked up my courage and joined my fellow "sweaty girls" to take on the Bluenose.

We all gathered at QB and Dale's room for some pre-race commraderie but before we knew it, it was time to climb to the start line together.



My goal time was 2hrs and 2o minutes which up until mile 9 was looking possible. Shortly thereafter though, "the arse end fell out of her" and I had to slow to a limp; unfortunately the ankle had had enough. For a few minutes I had to stand at the curb flamingo style, one leg bent up as to prevent putting any weight on it. My odd stance prompted a poilce officer to approach and ask if I needed help. I did but I told him no. Debating whether to walk off or walk on, I decided to keep going. In the end I walked/ran my way to the finish line in 2 hrs and 38 minutes. Clearly disappointed in my time I was more relieved that I hadn't quit. It wasn't easy and it certainly wasn't without pain, but few things worth doing rarely are.



But for Lisa, Susan and Debbie, they all finished within two hours...a personal best for each of them!

The day held countless memorable moments. From standing at the start line with 8000 runners,

to the thousands of spectators who stood in the rain along the entire route to cheer on loved ones and complete strangers,

from all the incredible volunteers of every age who stood tirelessly with water, jelly beans and applause,

to the police officers who stood at every intersection to stop traffic no matter how fast or slow you were going.

But for me, the absolute most memorable, meaningful moment came at the very end. With about a mile left I was feeling "done." I had just spent the last 30 minutes fighting the battle between pain and perseverance. I was wet, cold, hungry and blury eyed but as I turned one more corner, the big blue inflated finish gate came into the distant view. With the end finally in sight, I adjusted my ipod, picked up my pace and started to give 'er one last time.

At the Brunswick Street intersection just before the final climb, I could see a few people standing on the corner waving at me, more kind supporters cheering us in no doubt. In my daze, however, I couldn't really see them clearly but within a few seconds I recognized their faces; imagine how overwhelmed I was when I realized it was the very people who got me there in the first place. Apparently Lisa, Susan and her husband Dale (all of whom had finished long before) had set out to find me and shortly after they spied me emerge from the fog I too saw them. I couldn't hold back the tears when I realized that despite their own exhaustion, they had come back for me...just as they had done so many times before during our countless training runs over the last 6 months. As I drew closer, they ran out into the street, took me by the hand and proceeded to run the last 1/4 km by my side.



It couldn't have been a more perfect moment and as we crossed the finish line together, all the fatigue and self doubt completely melted away.

It was an incredible experience, not just the day of, but the journey to. The last 6 months have been trying, painful, and emotionally-draining...and I can't wait to do it all again.

I recently read in a running magazine that "race day is the celebration of all your hard work." How true indeed.