It was beyond exciting waiting for the start. After 4 months of work we were finally there.

I followed advice and picked 3 goals for yesterday. The first was to finish, next to finish near 5 hours and then the lofty goal of finishing at 4:45.

 Shortly after the start, I was able to quickly forget the 4:45 goal and settle into the race, still hoping for the near 5 hours. I fell into my own pace and place dealing with the usual early-in-the-run shin splints. These let up (as they usually do) about 30 minutes into the run and things felt great. I played leap frog with an assortment of team in training and stride for hope runners during walk breaks. It was great to see almost everyone coming back along 6th when I was heading out that way. And a huge thank to John Argo who hung out under the Cambie bridge offering encouragement to everyone until the last person made it back past him.

Around Science world, I fell into pace with a woman from the Bay area running for Strides for Hope. For those of you who say, but didn’t get a chance to speak to one of the 200 team members, Strides is another fundraising training team. This one is for cancer support services. There were some incredible stories. Dierdre stuck it out on the corner of Denman and Georgia cheering people on until I passed, supporters are wonderful.

We ran together chatting until Stanley Park and we neared the 3 hour mark. As with our long runs, at this time, my stomach departed for places unknown and left me with some serious pain and indigestion. I told her to go ahead and popped the pepcid from our race pack. It took care of a good part of the
indigestion, but nothing for the pain. I switched to a shorter run with more walk breaks. It was around then that I saw Ed out supporting us. He stuck it out waiting for me before moving onto the next cheering point. Most of the people I’ve talked to mentioned running into a cheering Ed.

As the tummy pain increased, so did the walking, until there was no running left (around English Bay). By now we had been moved onto the sidewalk so they could open a few roads. Not the end of the world, and they kept the Kits/UBC side closed off until after I reached the turn around. At one point I was running past Dee another stride for hope person (from Missouri) when I heard her talking to team mates on the phone. She was a bit down because she’d been alone for a while but was still going. So I turned back and asked if she wanted me to walk with her. We walked for a while. She had been an early starter, so had been on the road for even longer than me. I made it over the Burrard Bridge and part way up Cornwall with her, when I knew I’d have to walk faster (at my own pace) or I’d never make it. So I said good bye and went off on my own. And that’s how I continued for the next hour to hour and half.

I owe a great deal to the supporters along the route. At times they were what got me to the next corner, next water stop, next mile. At the turn around point, I crossed paths with the Canada springs truck coming along to pick up all the water. After that I played chase to stay one water stop ahead of the truck. I almost made them all. I kept wanting to run, kept trying, and ending up doubled over in pain, but cripes, it would have been over sooner if I could have run more.

By the time I hit the twisty little route under the Burrard Bridge, the only thing keeping me going was the knowledge that I wouldn’t get a shirt if I didn’t finished, combined with a very large stubborn streak – I was not quitting!!!!! And of course the wonderful sun came out. Even if I hadn’t forgotten about my sun block, it wouldn’t have been effective 5 hours later, so along with the expected leg, hip, back stiffness, I have a lovely lobster shade anywhere that wasn’t covered by clothes.

On the bridge, once I hit the spray painted 40k, I hit the emotional roller coaster, and lost even more water/salt. After that, anytime anyone offered encouragement, I started crying. I had an interesting time convincing the bike guides that I was really okay. I tried running again, but the lump in my stomach had been joined by a lump in my throat. I finally got it all under control (or just didn’t care about pain anymore) and ran most of the way back along Pacific (although I swear I hit every red light). I could hear the announcer as I approached the finish line and was surprised and happy to see Paul, Tina, Colleen and (at least 1 or 2 more clinic people but it’s a bit of a blur) cheering me in. If it hadn’t been a cute little kid on a chair putting the metals around necks, I would have just grabbed
mine because my stomach tried one final huge lurch (happily nothing happened but I think I had the guys cutting the chips off concerned about moving fast). I crossed at 6:48:36, a couple of hours slower than I hoped, but a finish none the less.

Eating was a chore until a few hours later. I forced down half a bagel and some fruit though. I eventually had dinner in the early evening. I kept forcing fluid in though (including some electrolytes.)

Sounds like an adventure eh, but I really only have 1 question…..”When’s the next one!!!” Yes, I’m hooked (insane but hooked). Along with improving my overall running, my focus over the summer will be to figure out what I can do to get my tummy past 3/4/5 hours of running. I’m going to do some more research, talk with my doctor, probably a nutritionist and try some of the suggestions I’ve already been given. I’m willing to try the chemical route, but want to try a more natural approach first. Unlike the days following long run issues, it didn’t linger into the next couple days, which I think I have to credit to the pepcid, but it wasn’t enough. And as much as I know I want to do another marathon, I don’t want to walk any more than the regular walk breaks so I’m going to try anything and everything in the process.

And in reality, the question was rhetorical; I know when my next full marathon will be. On October 25, I will be running for Canada’s “Joints in Motion” Arthritis Society team in Dublin, Ireland. You’re all welcome to join me on the JIM team and come to Dublin. Like other training teams, there is a fund raising requirement and for Dublin its $5,500. It sounds impossible, but really, I just finished a marathon, impossible is nothing. If you can’t come with me, I’ll take all the support I can get (financial, physical and emotional).

Congrats to all my friends who also met yesterdays challenge head on. We are all winners!

And a special thanks to Louise, Shaunene, Ed, the entire marathon clinic and the Denman Running Room. I would not have made it without you guys.

Chris Fretwell, Vancouver B.C., May 2004

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