I took my time getting ready for Gord’s Frozen Ass. I ate breakfast. I stretched. I did some mobility. I drank water. All the things while I ignored the clock.
I was nervous about running Gord’s Frozen Ass so I waited until the final minutes until I absolutely had to leave for the road race. (Even then I had to go back to my house twice because I forgot something.)
Yup. Nervous for a 25K fun run. This was the first ‘race’ since I broke my ankle in August, and given the clear to run in December.
I signed up for Gord’s Frozen Ass 50 as soon as registration opened because it would be great training for Sinister 7. I knew I could drop down to 25K without any penalty, which is what I did in the end. (Because – who am I kidding? I am not ready to run a 50k in February.)
I arrived less than 10 minutes before the start of the race at the Bow Waters Canoe Club. I didn’t see anyone I knew straight away, which was fine with me. I wanted to stay under the radar and fade into the background. (When you are nervous about racing, you feel like all the eyes are on you when in reality nobody cares.)
Gord greeted me as nervously looked around the starting corral. I chatted with a runner about the route who parked beside me. The route was a simply a 12.5k out and back along the Nose Creek Pathway. I lined up in the very back of the starters. Everyone was in high spirits. I was just trying not to puke. I was nervous about my ankle, nervous about my hamstring and my fitness level.
Can I pull out a 25k on asphalt trails in February?
It turns out I can run 25K without completing crippling myself or falling flat on my face. There was some ice over the first 400 metres, which forced me to calm down and take it super easy. In less than five minutes, a guy behind me slipped on the ice and fell on the ice. That’s all I needed to give myself permission to walk around the ice.
I started the race with all these numbers jostling around in my head. I decided to focus on the hour – maybe I will aim for 7K an hour or 8K an hour – super slow so I don’t overdo it or aggravate my hamstring. Surprisingly I was feeling pretty good. I settled on running 9K an hour. Then after I hit the first two hours, I could take it easy if I was in pain or discomfort.
And that’s exactly how it played out. I hit the 18K mark two hours in. I was feeling pretty good and happy with my pace. I chatted with people at the aid station and runners along the course. It was a beautiful day.
But my right hammie was acting up a bit so I began to slow down and walk for a few minutes here and there. Because I was doing math in my head about finishing times, I missed a bridge covered with pink ribbons that would take me the final two kilometres to the finish line.
It was only when I was on the other side of the river when I noticed runners that I had passed a short while ago heading to the canoe club. So I turned around and made my way back to the bridge. I had only an extra 400 metres but it was enough to deflate any misaligned desire to push hard to the finish.
Despite the detour, I finished just under three hours. Yes I was hurting but there were some pretty sweet moments in that race. I ran every single hill in the first 18k while I noticed some runners walking the small inclines ahead of me. To me those hills were mere speed bumps especially when I think about all the challenging terrains I’ve hiked over the years.
Another win was my consistent pacing. I felt really good – while I didn’t hit any paces below six minutes, I was very consistent. Gord’s Frozen Ass served as a reality check for my fitness and a confidence boost.
Sure the pain was there but it faded away against the crucial lessons: setbacks don’t define us. The finish line is not just the end of a race, it is the kick off for whatever challenges lie ahead.