tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-203419952026-03-24T03:56:06.591-04:00A blog about a guy's running life in Torontoyumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.comBlogger1284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-46097808190738168992016-08-23T19:11:00.003-04:002016-08-24T00:25:27.505-04:00

Not every mile is remarkable, but this one was. In a way, all miles should be remarkable. Today's first mile was not unlike any of the past 999 days -- my legs were moving, my arms swinging and like most first miles, it feels anywhere from perfect to plodding. Today, for my 1,000th day of consecutive running,  I marked the 1.61 km point with a tap to my heart with my right hand, as much as

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-6560848667161494542016-06-01T21:06:00.001-04:002016-06-02T10:02:30.251-04:00

The fear was real. It started sometime after noon, a full 8 hours before I was to run my leg at the Cabot Trail Relay in Cape Breton. I was griping a rock found beneath a road barrier, and alongside my teammates, we pounded them against the railing, creating a rhythmic clanging sound. We watched my coach Rejean storm up Smokey Mountain for two kilometres, running full out at 5:15 kilometres.

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-42429711980912266512016-05-01T21:30:00.000-04:002016-05-03T19:05:53.606-04:00

Nine days ago, a day after I got back from Boston, my quads still stinging, my hamstrings sore and my spirit undiminished, I sent my coach Rejean an email with the subject line: "Update and an audacious plan?" A few days later, my friend Lee, sent me an email titled "My latest crazy idea." The night after the Boston Marathon, Lee and I commiserated about the day that was not ours. It was too

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-50947066716924900832016-04-19T16:03:00.005-04:002016-04-21T18:59:03.144-04:00

There are moments in your life you want to freeze frame. I've had them, far fewer than I would have thought in my 40-plus years on this Earth. Full awareness when you are living in the moment. Seeing a beautiful landscape that your camera can't capture. Watching your favourite band or sports team. Seeing your Dad content at the end of the meal. I've had quite a few moments in my life on that

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-20690132636573257972016-03-30T22:16:00.001-04:002016-03-30T22:16:41.737-04:00

They are moments of quiet, those resting seconds before the next lap, when your body is settling down from a near-heaving state that breathing almost feels normal. Instead of panic, you feel calmness and as your stride cadence picks up, you hit the lap button, and then it begins. The work is ahead of you. Time or distance, there is something you're counting down to or running up towards before

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-559800040642014752015-11-27T08:42:00.004-05:002015-11-27T13:56:11.160-05:00

The fire, I felt it in those final miles of the Philadelphia Marathon this past weekend. It was burning in my legs, that tinge to signal effort. It was present in my lungs and I could feel it in my veins. This morning, five days into my off season, I woke up before my 5 a.m. alarm. I balanced a mug on my lap as I warmed to the thought of the outside. In another half hour, I was outside to

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-43895979875420535472015-11-08T16:33:00.001-05:002015-11-08T16:33:16.131-05:00

There comes that point in a run where you get to the stop light. You linger, waiting for the seconds to count down before you have to start up again. Your heart rate comes down, you can almost reset your systems before continuing. Sometimes, I run toward the stop light, hoping for a pause.  Two runs and 25k ago, these were new shoes. New no more. Breaking in the Zantes for #

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-76927075910073411112015-05-18T13:27:00.004-04:002015-05-18T13:27:33.680-04:00

There are markers we aspire to meet, lifelong goals runners use as benchmarks. For me, aside from the Boston Qualifying times, it's been the sub-20 5K, the sub-40 10K and the sub 1:30 half marathon. The 10K and 5Ks are not my favourite distance. The 5K amounts to about 20 minutes of sheer pain, the only comfort around the first 200 metres, cresting at the 3.5K mark when you try to hold on to

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-21143790114551259202015-04-23T22:32:00.004-04:002015-04-26T09:34:19.369-04:00

No Stopping. There's a famous sign that those who have run Boston have seen on the course. It says "No Stopping -- Monday," with a figure of a runner breaking the tape. Nothing stops us from wanting to get here. Nothing stops us from getting our own personal Boston. There's a truth when it comes to Boston -- the hardest part is making it to the start. So when my friend Kerri and I played our

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-52855184668956762692015-04-13T20:32:00.000-04:002015-04-14T20:45:23.876-04:00

So, why Boston? It's a question you trying to answer while explaining to your friends who don't run at all. You talk with newer runners or those who have been running for years. No doubt, people have heard of this race because it transcends this sport. It is a sporting event bigger than just about any other road race. In four days, I'm flying out to Boston to run the race of my dreams for the

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-26947233951145571632015-04-06T20:53:00.002-04:002015-04-06T20:53:35.266-04:00

Confession. I'm loving the bike for the unlikely reason that it's made me a better runner. Cross training is the activity that most runners know they should do to improve, but when faced with running vs. other activities, most of us choose running. But there's always something new to teach a runner, I've learned over the years. So spinning. No, not that spinning. It's been time to do

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-17440423367417783132015-03-29T18:14:00.000-04:002015-03-30T06:47:26.018-04:00

My eighth straight Around the Bay happens 22 days before my goal marathon, and while I thought I had fitness to race it, it's too risky to go all out, or so I told coach Rejean. His battle plan was to run 5K at 4:30 kms, 5K-10K at 4:20, then 15K at 4:15 (marathon pace) and close the final 5K in 4:10. Race, but only to a point. Run but only to pace. But what could you do if you followed the

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-11481250243927221782015-03-26T21:59:00.001-04:002016-03-29T11:57:54.423-04:00

So no hill, now what? The 2015 (and 2016) Around the Bay won't feature the final monster of a hill, instead creating a 2K diversion. Those of us who have run Around the Bay in that past know that the hill, which follows a huge downward plunge down Spring Garden Road, is a monster with around 3K to go.  Call it Canada's Heart Break Hill. Update: It's the same route in 2016. Here is the 2015

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-58399967973821300412015-03-07T09:00:00.000-05:002015-03-07T09:00:02.236-05:00

Running isn't always about beautifully prepared meals, perfect workouts and the afterglow of a fit life. Running is usually more like a rushed meal eaten over a kitchen countertop, nine hours before your next run. Running isn't always about a runner's high. Running isn't fitfluential or inspirational. Running isn't always rise and shine lets get at it -- all the time. Running is hitting a 5K

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-10398856950628016192015-03-01T21:06:00.001-05:002015-03-01T21:07:03.015-05:00

I'm ramping up this season and Boston is in seven weeks but March would be the month of testing my fitness with a few races. Today's half marathon was the first half race since last year's Chilly Half, which was a personal best with a 1:29:17. For me, it was a landmark race, letting me finally get below the 1:30 mark and was a great indicator for the year that was to come -- a lot of PBs

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-74078996317833980112015-02-02T20:40:00.000-05:002015-02-02T20:40:00.251-05:00

A few days ago, during a long run, a runner said these words to a group of us. One of us was a woman, who heard the following: "oh, you're running with the boys now," to which I quickly corrected. "No, we're running with the girl." I didn't realize many of you hadn't seen the original #LikeAGirl ad but last night it was apparent many of you had and seeing it take off on Instagram, flooding my

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-78972670527861320452015-01-11T17:00:00.003-05:002015-01-11T17:33:08.313-05:00

The knee told me to give up long before the lungs said I wasn't ready. As it turns out, I wasn't ready that run, that season, that year. Or for the next two years. It was the winter of 2010, and I had just finished a three-year push that left me exhilarated but exhausted. I had run thousands of kilometres, embraced harder workouts and after six marathons run in 2008 and 2009, I had put

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-77441010769848864992015-01-01T20:26:00.001-05:002015-01-01T20:31:42.752-05:00

Last night, the band that has been around my left wrist, serving as motivation through 17 months, snapped.  Figures, I thought, surprisingly not upset. I wondered what to lean on as a reminder -- the replacement I have, another band, or nothing at all. The Boston wristband carried me through hundreds of runs, more than 6,000 kms, accompanied me on a year-long (and counting) run streak. I

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-51886754767015027602014-12-26T21:15:00.000-05:002014-12-28T07:34:37.146-05:00

So, yes, another race. Impromptu at that. A final one for a crazy running year. My recovery since the California International Marathon less than three weeks ago has been solid -- I took it easy for a week but still logged 44km, then 80km last week. I've been easing back on any hard interval work with the team, perferring to do closer to around marathon pace than 5K or one-hour race pace.

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-39548923943210460102014-12-11T21:10:00.003-05:002014-12-28T07:34:37.139-05:00

The footing was precarious as I gave pursuit around that second lap of our interval workout. It was four days before I was to tackle the rolling hills in Folsom, two days till I boarded a plane for Sacramento, California. But tonight, as the asphalt that was 10 minutes ago wet was now frozen, I gave chase as we curved the down and ups of High Park. I was nursing a sore hamstring but found an

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-88235183002688068192014-12-08T10:49:00.001-05:002014-12-08T10:49:36.161-05:00

I can't explain yesterday's race other than I believed I could. I'm still trying to process what happened yesterday on the course of the California International Marathon. All I know is that I do have a race report to write that will come with time and reflection. So first, about barriers. How we put them up. How we stare at them with fear. How we think they'll always be unbreakable.

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-90772443936017539392014-11-26T07:20:00.001-05:002014-12-28T07:33:41.713-05:00

I ran today. Running streaks have to start somewhere and it was a year ago tomorrow, U.S. Thanksgiving Day, I went on a run. This morning, I ran for the 365th straight day. This is a post that in theory I've been thinking about writing for hundreds of days. If I had my way, I would write the entire piece while on the run, as opposed to on the couch long after I've put away my running shoes. In

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-79293098573550103532014-10-21T21:48:00.000-04:002014-12-28T07:34:46.865-05:00

Three words. That's all I needed. That's all, really, I could muster in my mind that late in the game. I had 36 kilometres before I wanted to start using the three words, my motivational running mantra. But through the race, I had also been anticipating that moment when the healing left calf would rebel, when the waves -- bursts -- would strike deeper into the muscle. My legs were spinning,

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-28116404536123628492014-10-14T20:33:00.000-04:002014-10-14T20:33:00.048-04:00

Ever wondered what are the routines other marathoners get into before the big race? What do you eat, how much sleep do you get? Awesome video put together with members of my running team (myself included) and my coaches and Reid Coolsaet among the guests.

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20341995.post-15649153044703542382014-10-11T21:18:00.003-04:002014-10-12T07:34:21.712-04:00

I was ready to give up on my goal. A pulled calf a few weeks ago, just as I was about to go into my taper, reminded me how much humility I need to bring to my training. It gave me perspective on what running is to me -- that while I want to run fast, I want to run long, and for a long time. In the past few weeks, I've been making plans for another marathon past Scotiabank, going back and forth

yumkehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04326728444383668883noreply@blogger.com4