top of page
Search
Writer's pictureAndrew Wagstaff

Marathon #11 - Running happy at the Johnny Miles

June 16, 2019


Is it possible to feel significant improvement in a marathon, even when the clock doesn’t necessarily show it? I found out last month that it most definitely is.


I had wanted to run the Johnny Miles marathon for years. The New Glasgow event has been a Father’s Day tradition for my family since 2012, when I ran my first-ever half marathon there. I enjoyed that experience so much that I returned to run the same distance in 2013, 2014 and 2015, and then ran the 10K in 2016.


There’s something about the Johnny Miles that is satisfying on different levels. It offers the small-town charm of New Glasgow, but attracts enough of a crowd to still feel like a big race.


Its course is a nice mix of road and trail, with some rolling terrain through residential areas, some flat spots along the East River, and no big hills. And the finish is a nice little downhill dash along Provost Street, with plenty of cheering spectators lining the way.


The history of Johnny Miles makes it even more special. Growing up poor in Sydney Mines in the early 1900s, Johnny would go to school during the day and work the coal mines in the evening - at the age of 11 - to help his family get by.


He became a runner and went on to win many big races, the biggest being the Boston Marathon in 1926 and 1929. He was the last Maritimer to win Boston, and the only one to do it twice. He also represented Canada at the Olympics in 1928 and 1932.


I first learned about Johnny Miles long before I ever became a runner myself. Our local theatre in Parrsboro, Ship’s Company Theatre, staged a biographical play in 2001 about Miles written by Michael Melski called Miles From Home. It was a first-rate show, and the inspiring story has always stuck with me. The marathon in New Glasgow has been held in his honour since 1975, the year I was born.


I had planned to run the Johnny Miles marathon in 2017, but opted for the Blue Nose instead after my team didn’t get in the Cabot Trail Relay, freeing up the last part of May. Then I considered it again in 2018, but decided to put it off for one more year and run Yarmouth instead.


My time would finally come in 2019, but the road to race day was a bit tougher than I anticipated.


I started training in February, but things just didn’t feel right. I had trouble with sore knees from the start, and it would persist for the weeks and months to come. I was afraid that an incident from way back in my childhood had finally come back to haunt me.


When I was 11 years old, I got struck by a car and broke both of my legs. Which bones did I break? All of them. Both femurs, both tibias and both fibulas. I was in casts for what seemed like forever, had to go through some painful physiotherapy to basically learn to walk all over again, but I was one lucky boy.


In the first couple years after my accident, the only problems I had relating to it were with my knees. When I would have to sit for long periods of time, they would ache. On long drives it would start as a dull throb and eventually become a screaming pain that would drive me to tears.


Eventually it stopped being a problem, and I had completely forgotten about that pain until my knees started bothering me this winter. There was such a familiarity about it. It had been about 30 years, but yep, it was the same pain.


It was mostly my left knee that was bothersome, especially during long runs. Most of all, however, they seemed to bother me when in bed at night. If I slept on my back, it felt like there was pressure pushing down on my knees. The best solution was to put a pillow underneath, to give my legs a slightly bent position, and then when I turned on my side I would place the pillow between my knees. It’s the best solution I’ve been able to come up with, and I sleep this way now every night.


It was hard to know how to assess my training while dealing with this. Yes, my knees were sore, but not to the point where I would call it an injury. They would feel better for a little while, and then hurt for a while. It wasn’t enough to keep me from running, but it was enough to slow me down. In all of my training runs, from the slow and easy ones to the speed intervals to the Sunday long runs, my pace was consistently about 20 seconds per kilometre slower than it should have been.


Could I have benefited from a couple weeks off? Maybe. Should I have visited a doctor or a physiotherapist? Maybe. But we haven’t had a regular family doctor in years, and I would expect only one that specializes in sports medicine would really have any answers for me. I decided to just push through it. Honestly, our health care system seems so overburdened, that it would seem silly to bother anyone with the athletic aspirations of some dad in his 40s.


A big part of me also worried that a doctor might just tell me to quit running.


I suspected that it was the cold damp weather that was the real root of my problem, and I was banking on things to improve once the temperature warmed up a little. Unfortunately, our winter stayed consistently cold, and spring never seemed to arrive. I thought a two-week stay in Florida in May might have been the answer I was looking for, but that wasn’t to be either. I think the long drives down there and back likely outweighed any benefits I received from the warm weather.


The only silver linings I had during these dark days were the occasional races I took part in. I once again ran the Moose Run 25K in March and did much better than I thought I would. In fact, I was a bit faster there than I had been in 2018, even though I treated it more as a long run than a race. I also ran Leg 5 at the Cabot Trail Relay in May, and was pleased with the strength I was able to find late in that race. I wasn’t exactly lighting up these courses, but I wasn’t stinking them up either.


So I went into the Johnny Miles knowing I would not be fast, but confident that I could run smart and still pull off a decent race. Although I wasn’t thinking much about a time goal as the race drew near, I told my running friends that I would be happy with a sub-3:30. But I really just wanted to have a “good marathon.” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but was convinced I would know it if I ran one.


Most of all, I had to forget about the problems I had along the way. My MVR teammate Kyla Gillis gave me some simple but great advice when I talked to her the night before the race.


“Don’t think about tough training now,” she said. “It gives you excuses on the course. Think of your best run and all your work.”


It was exactly what I needed to hear. I hate to admit it, but I’m a chronic excuse maker. If I have a bad run, I will seize on whatever I can. “It was the wind! The hills! The heat!” I wasn’t going to let that happen this time.


So I showed up in New Glasgow on June 16 with a big smile on my face, ready to let the chips fall where they may. My cousin Mike and his wife Dara were gracious enough to let me stay at their place near Truro the night before, so I only had a half hour drive. The 7 a.m. start for the full marathon ruled out making the two-hour trip from home, so I was missing Marlene and the kids on Father’s Day, but I would see them soon enough.


Marathoners at the start line. / Bob MacEachern photo

The day was beautiful in New Glasgow, and it was the least nervous I had ever felt prior to a marathon. I knew I might not have the speed for a PB, but really believed in my fitness and my ability to overcome adversity.


Bob MacEachern photo

As planned, I took a measured approach early in the race. I purposely started in the middle to the back of the pack, so I would be sure to stay calm and collected in the first few kms. I found myself chatting with guys like Tim Duguay and Matthew White, and stayed at around a 5-minute pace. I planned to do this for the first 4K and then pick it up, but before I knew it we were 5K in. It might have been a mistake to not speed up earlier, but I felt good about it.


I tried to lock into a 4:45-4:50 pace for most of the race, and did reasonably OK, but found myself bubbling around 5:00 for most of the second half. The temperature was warm but not hot, slightly overcast. There was a bit of a stiff breeze for the back half of the loops, and I lost a little time there.


I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I also really like that this marathon is four loops of what is essentially a 10K course. We had it to ourselves for the first two loops, and then the half marathon, 10K and 5K races started at around 9 a.m. At that point, I found those other runners injected a little more energy onto the course, helping the marathoners for the second half of our race. As we passed close to downtown on the third and fourth loops, I could hear announcer Mark Stein and the crowd, and it gave me a boost.


Bob MacEachern photo

As many have said before, the race really begins in that last 10K, and I knew that would be my real test. I'm happy to report that - for my first marathon ever - I did not hit the wall! It was the best final 10K of a marathon I have ever run. I slowed down a little, but I was still running, and at no point did I find myself doing the dead man's shuffle. I passed a few runners on the third loop, and passed one runner - the lead female - on the final loop. So I didn't pass many, but I also never got passed by any other marathoners. The only runner to pass me was half marathon winner Donald Rasmussen - that dude was flying.


My worst kilometre was #39, when I found myself mostly alone on the trail section, with a few sharp turns. My knees were really hurting by this point but I was otherwise feeling OK.


I finished with a time of 3:31:18, which was a solid effort but not a PB. In fact, I was 16 seconds slower than my previous marathon in P.E.I. But I felt so much better about this race. In P.E.I. I went in a bit overconfident, hit the wall around 30-34K and crawled to the finish. A similar scenario had played out in my previous two marathons. At the Johnny I still felt strong at the end.


With Stephanie Seaward (left) and Paula James.

Usually I am near death after a marathon, but I felt really good after this race, ready to celebrate and ready to eat! It was a great day to be a runner.


Regardless of how fast I was in the race, I knew I had made a breakthrough with my fitness, and that I had reached a place that I could really build from. I had some confidence back, and I needed that a lot more than whatever the finish clock could provide.

42 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page