April 18, 2021
“Are u participating in the NS remembers?”
The question, innocent enough, popped up in my inbox one day in April from my rock star running friend Paula James.
I told her that I had not planned on taking part. In fact, I knew very little about the run, other than that it was some type of memorial for the tragic shooting event we had in this part of Nova Scotia a year ago. I assumed it would probably be a 5K/10K thing, likely virtual only, considering we were still dealing with the COVID pandemic.
It was only through chatting with Paula that I discovered it was much bigger than that. It would include a virtual option, but would also be an in-person event. To my surprise, it would also include half and full marathons. Paula and a few other MVR athletes would be among those running the full 42K from Portapique to Truro.
I love point-to-point routes, and this marathon really intrigued me. It was close to home, and most of the ground it would cover would be familiar to me. However, I was in no shape for a full. I had stayed active and ran all winter, but at a lower “off-season” mileage. I had recently begun training for the Nova Scotia Marathon in Barrington again this year, but was only a few weeks in.
I considered running the half, as I had already been planning a 21K training run for the day of the race, April 18. But the idea didn’t really stick.
Enter Paula again. A week or so later, she messaged me one more time, saying there was only one spot left in the full marathon, which was capped at 30 participants. She told me it “had my name on it” and that I should do it.
Spontaneity is not really my thing. I function best with planning and structure. It’s not very exciting, but it’s how I roll. And I had never run a full without doing a full training program. However, when I gave it a second thought, it somehow seemed to make a little more sense. I wasn’t as prepared as I usually am for a marathon, but I knew I was capable of digging down and getting to the finish line. Plus, I agreed with Paula that I really should be there.
The mass shooting that took place on April 18-19 of 2020 created a state of shock and horror for those of us who call rural Nova Scotia home. When one person loses their life to violence here, it shakes our small communities to the core. When more than 20 innocent lives were taken last year, a dark cloud of grief, sorrow, anger and stunned disbelief descended over the entire province. I still struggle to wrap my head around the scope of this tragedy.
One of the victims, Lisa McCully, used to live right here in our community, just down the road in Ward’s Brook. I didn’t get the chance to spend a lot of time with her, but I knew her as a nice person - sunny and friendly, tall with big poofy blonde hair, and a matching smile. She was living here when I started into running, and we chatted about how it happened for me, and how it changed my life. It was the last conversation I ever had with her.
So, I decided I wanted to run for Lisa and all the other victims. For 17-year-old Emily Tuck, who liked to play the fiddle and fix cars with her dad. For Lillian Campbell, who had simply gone out for her daily morning walk in Wentworth that day, never to return. For RCMP officer Heidi Stevenson, killed in the line of duty. And for all the scarred families and loved ones they left behind.
Like many, I’d rather forget what happened that weekend than remember it, but if this running event could in any way help these communities heal, then sign me up. Proceeds raised from the event would go towards raising money for a permanent memorial for the victims.
To make a long story short: “Heck yes,” I told Paula.
On the day I signed up, there were nine days left until race day. I decided right off that it would not be a “race” for me. My goal was simply to finish, and then get back to my Barrington training. But I had nine days to get as ready as possible, and thought I should get some advice. I reached out to Stacy Chesnutt, who has run a ton of marathons and, I figured, had likely been in this position before. As it turned out, she was in the exact same spot training-wise as I was for this race, and was planning to do it herself (until a last-minute surgery sidelined her.)
She told me that I couldn’t cram the necessary distance into nine days, but that I could cram in some valuable rest, and to rely on my heart more than my brain for this one.
“That has to be your goal,” she said. “Show up rested. I’d choose that over being fit but tired any day. This event is about more than a race, and it will make it easier than you expect.”
I followed Stacy’s advice , which proved prophetic, and went into the taper that I would normally do at the end of a long training program. I treated it like a regular race week.
I also reached out to my buddy Sheldon Morris, another experienced marathoner who I knew had been here before, because it was pretty much the same scenario for him when we ran the Coal Run together last October. Leading up to that run, Sheldon had only been running low mileage and was not fully trained, but we ran at a comfortable pace and he soldiered through. Now it was my turn to wear those shoes.
“You should just have fun with Truro, and not worry about your finish time,” he said. “First goal is to complete the event without getting hurt. That will give you a bit of a mental boost moving into your Barrington training.”
The taper went off well, and I went into the race feeling pretty good, although not particularly strong. My only real issue was a sore Achilles tendon that had been nagging me for a couple weeks. On Easter Sunday, we had a miserable day for weather, with ice pellets, rain, wind, etc. I got in 21K that day, but the road was a bit slippery, and running on slippery surfaces is murder on the Achilles. So that was sore on race day (still is, in fact) but not debilitating.
Also nagging at me was the decision on what to wear for this one. It would be my first April marathon, and April can bring a real mixed bag of weather in these parts. The forecast was calling for temperatures only a degree or three above zero, with the wind chill slightly below zero, along with some light rain. I don’t mind being cold, and I don’t mind being wet, but being cold AND wet can really sap your strength. I decided to wear my winter running gear (jacket, pants, hat, gloves), with shorts and sleeves underneath giving me the option to peel off a layer if I found myself getting too warm.
At the 7 a.m. start time, it was not warm. I lined up with the others near the Portapique Community Hall. While most of the participants had been bused from Truro, it made more sense for me to just park nearby and get a ride back afterwards. My friends Kelly and Todd MacKinnon were running the half, and generously offered to meet me at the finish line and give me said ride, while another friend, the ever-reliable Jody Mattie, picked up my race kit for me and delivered it to me at the start line.
Jody had a special assignment for this race. He was running the marathon alongside his friend, Amelia Goulet, whose mother was one of the victims on that awful weekend. This would not only be her first marathon, but the first running event she had ever taken part in.
“Think about that, when you’re 20 miles in and the going is getting tough,” Jody told us as we lined up.
This would be my first official race in a year-and-a-half, since the COVID pandemic had put normal life on hiatus, and it was nice to see some of the familiar faces from the running community gather at the start line. But this was no normal running event. Everyone was friendly behind their masks, but the occasion brought a level of solemnity not usually seen at races. The news crews added another layer of unusual.
All participants wore masks at the starting area, not taking them off until after the start, and then putting them back on at the finish. Little did we know that, had this event been scheduled even a week or two later, it never would have happened in-person at all, as another COVID outbreak led to a province-wide lockdown.
Fortunately, we were able to avoid that, and, after a short introduction from Jody, we were off.
I decided to approach my run the same way Sheldon and I did the Coal Run in the fall. My plan was to simply stay in the vicinity of a 5-minute pace for the duration of the race, and if, by some miracle, I had anything extra left for the last few kms, I would turn it up a notch for a strong finish.
I felt pretty good from the start, and had no trouble locking into my pace. My Achilles was giving me no trouble, and I just took the day in. As much as I like to go into a marathon fully prepared, it was sort of liberating to go into this one with no specific time goal. I normally put so much pressure on myself on race day after working so hard in training, so this one just felt like a huge weight was off my shoulders.
As we ambled through Highland Village, I was a bit disappointed that the overcast, rainy weather took away what should have been pretty coastal scenery for the visiting runners to enjoy. From Great Village on, it was all inland, past farms and residential areas. The first part of the run was indeed a bit wet, and I did not regret my clothing choices. My light jacket was just enough to keep me from feeling soaked through, and I never did feel the need to shed that outer layer.
What I will always remember the most from this race are the people we encountered along the way. The volunteers at the water stations were so warm and friendly. Some even thanked me for doing the run. That really threw me. I remember thinking to myself, this lady just dragged herself out of bed on a cold, rainy morning to give me a drink of water, and SHE’S thanking ME.
Even more memorable were the residents who cheered us from their yards in Portapique and further along the route, many holding up signs. There were senior citizens and there were families with children, and seeing them made me think about what was lost here. It really was emotional.
Also dotted along the route were many volunteer fire departments, and all were turned out to cheer us on. Fire trucks were parked outside with lights flashing, and many of the firefighters were in their dress uniforms. Among those fire departments was the one in Onslow, which a year earlier had come under a terrifying barrage of gunfire from police in an apparent act of confusion, another chapter in that horrible story.
The route itself wound through many of the rural communities of Colchester County, such places as Glenholme, Masstown, Onslow and Bible Hill, before turning and crossing the bridge into Truro, finishing up at the entrance to Victoria Park. It was a bit hilly, but I didn’t find the climbs to be overwhelming. If anything, I felt stronger on the hills.
Much of the route, including the brief section along Highway 4 and the stretch through Masstown, offered a nice wide shoulder to run on, which was appreciated. As we passed over the TCH overpass in Onslow and inched closer to Bible Hill, the road got a bit rougher and so did the shoulder, while the traffic got a little busier.
I hadn’t really run anything longer than 21-24K since October, so I thought I would be struggling after the halfway point, but it never really happened. I have no real explanation for it, but I felt good and had no trouble keeping that 5-minute pace until I got to around 39K, and just had nothing left in the tank. When I got into town, I kept to the sidewalks, and found that the constant up-and-down across driveways really disrupted what rhythm I had left. I had experienced the same thing at the end of the Coal Run in Parrsboro, and considered staying on the road this time, but it just felt safer on the sidewalk.
I was really starting to drag ass in those last 3K, so I was glad to see Victoria Park. To make the official marathon distance, we had to turn left before the finish line and do a small loop around the park, which Jody had warned us about at the start line (that didn’t make it any less cruel, however 😊) . I crossed the finish line feeling happy.
I finished with a time of 3:40:36, 11th out of the 28 finishers, and a more than satisfactory result for me on a day when I really didn’t know what to expect. To put it in perspective, I was only seven minutes slower than I had been for my marathon on the pancake-flat Cobequid Trail last summer, a run I trained my behind off for. The difference between running in April and running in July obviously played some role in this, but there is something to be said for being well rested and running without pressure. Like Stacy advised, I made use of my heart more than my head on this day, and it worked.
I was unable to hook up with Todd and Kelly at the finish line – I’m still not sure how we missed each other – but I wandered into town and was eventually able to contact my cousin Mike (thanks, Truro police!) This is another story all unto itself, but let me just say that it’s a bit of a shock to discover how stuck you are these days when you find yourself away from home without your car or your phone. Mike and Dara got me back to my car, and home I went, feeling so glad to have taken part in this one.
Now, back to my Barrington training…
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