August 10, 2014
These days I never run with music, for different reasons. In my early days of running, however, it was a big part of my motivation. My love for the sport came not just from wanting to challenge myself, but also from the solitude and escapism it offered from the everyday drudgery of going to work and paying the bills. Music helped in this regard.
In those days, I carried my iPhone along with me on runs, and that was my music player. I did not own a GPS watch at the time, so it also served that function. I was always freshening my playlist, always mixing it up.
When it came time to run my third marathon in August of 2014, I realized that I could use music to help me in the race.
But more on that later.
Once again I would be tackling the Age of Sail Marathon, an out-and-back from Port Greville to Parrsboro that I trained and traveled on most days. By this point, my marathons were becoming so familiar, they were like a wash-rinse-repeat thing, but it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t considering running more than one marathon per year back then and, as long as there was an event right in my backyard, allowing me to eat my own food and sleep the night before in my own bed, I was going to choose that one.
Building up for this race, my training went well. I participated in a few shorter races along the way, including a 10K at the ZX10 in Greenwood in April (I ran that one while sick with a fever), Leg 10 up a snowy, rainy, windy MacKenzie Mountain at the Cabot Trail Relay Race in May, and another half marathon at the Johnny Miles in June, where I once again improved on my time from the previous year.
By the time August rolled around, I was ready to go. I had already run this marathon twice (by this time I was also on the organizing committee), and I logged a lot of training kms on the same route. I had no excuses for having a bad performance.
This year's race was a bit more fun for me because I had a few more familiar faces taking part. My cousins Michael and Derek were down with their wives, and so were Cabot Trail Relay teammates Kelly and Todd MacKinnon, and all (except for Derek) were taking part in other distances at the event.
For the marathon, we had a field of 11 runners, including several members of the Amherst Striders, such as Shelley Carroll, Anthony Fromm, Ken MacKenzie and Elita Rahn.
Fromm was off like a shot when the race started. I barely even recall seeing him that day. I settled in behind Elita for a bit, but soon realized how strong of a runner she was. It wasn’t long before I was watching her red shirt move further and further ahead of me, and I settled into my own zone.
Back to the music.
I decided to create two different playlists for this race. For the first half, I would listen to a variety of “current” stuff I had on my phone. For the second half, I designed a list of songs to hopefully keep me focused and motivated when things started to get real.
For this second playlist I went with mostly “pump me up” stuff and, for me, that usually means it has to rock. To get me moving, I had stuff like “One More Astronaut” by I Mother Earth, and “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley. To keep me inspired, I had anthems like Bruce Springsteen’s “No Surrender” and The Who’s “Baba O’Riley.”
But my favourite music to run to comes hands-down from Rage Against the Machine, and I had plenty of that. I had savage tracks like “Bulls on Parade,” “Guerilla Radio,” “Sleep Now in the Fire,” and most of their first album. Half the time I have no idea what they are angry about, but I always find myself getting angry right along with them. And, as they say in “Freedom,” anger is a gift.
As for the run, I went in with a similar goal as the previous year – just to get better. Thoughts of a Boston qualifying time were starting to creep into my head, but were not a realistic consideration. I was 39 at the time, and my BQ time was 3:10, far beyond anything I had run before.
I also had a similar race strategy this time around. Hover a bit under a 5:00 pace and see how long I could hold it.
The first half of the race went well, although I went out a lot faster than I should have. I was probably closer to a 4:45 pace for much of the early miles. A rookie mistake, but I was still learning. Maybe I was inspired by the pile of bear poop in the middle of the road on Fox River Hill. The leaders apparently encountered the bear itself.
I rounded the halfway turnaround in Parrsboro, made a lame attempt at a witty remark to the volunteers (“No turning back now, haha”) and I tried to stay focused. The music I had for the first half of the race ended at almost the exact time I hit the turnaround, so I switched to the playlist I designed for the second half and hit “shuffle.” The first song that came on was “Sabotage” by the Beastie Boys. I love that tune. I used to play it at work after my buddy Chris and I would wrap up our paper for another week. I’d kick back and crank it’s awesome retro-‘70s video on YouTube. I couldn’t have asked for a better song to get me pumped for the back 21K.
As I headed back, I noticed a few other runners were not super far behind me. I had to stay focused. And I did, at least for the next 8K or so.
At around 25K, I came around a corner expecting to find the water stop that had been there on the way up, only to find that it had disappeared. The volunteers had apparently packed it up and left! I started to panic a bit, wondering if it was even there in the first place. It’s amazing how much something like that can throw you off mentally.
What really impressed me about the Striders that day was that they had supporters traveling along the route to cheer them on at different points. Non-runners have no idea how much that means to people, especially when running marathons. Whether it’s providing an extra drink, or a gel, or just some cheers, it’s comforting to know that somebody gives a damn about you and what you’re doing. One of them – I’m pretty sure it was Anthony Fromm’s wife – must have seen my reaction to the missing water stop. She offered me a bottle of water, and I gladly accepted.
At around the 30K mark, my mind started drifting, and I started falling off pace. I stopped at a water stop (the other water stop had not completely disappeared, but had just relocated to a sport further along) and walked a couple steps as I drank. Ken MacKenzie passed me at this point, and I resolved to get back into gear.
Right when I needed it, the pulsing hum of “Orion” by Metallica started throbbing from my earbuds. Lars Ulrich’s steady backbeat got me back into rhythm. I passed by Ken, who had stopped to take a gel or something, and I offered him some encouraging words.
Any experienced marathoner will tell you that the real race starts in the last 10K, and it’s so very true. This is what you’ve trained for. You either crumple against the wall, defeated, or you bear down and chew through the pain.
In this particular race, I met the 32K mark in better shape than I had in the previous two years, but that wall was still there and I couldn’t avoid it. I
fought but I steadily fell off pace.
I struggled along, with nothing to keep me company but the music I had prepared, and it did its thing.
Most memorable that day was when I was in the final kilometer of the race, going by my grandparents’ house, and “All These Things That I’ve Done” by The Killers came on. Something about that tune always lifts me up – I think it’s the drums. When it comes on in the car, I crank it loud and tap along.
On this day, the quiet part came on by Gram and Gramp’s, then the full-band section kicked in just as I rounded the last stretch by the fire hall. That is where you always find a few people cheering on the runners, and I always see familiar faces. As they cheered, I had The Killers playing me along to the finish line like I was some kind of star. I’ll never forget it.
I crossed the finish line at 3:36:28, 10 minutes faster than my time from the previous year. I finished third behind Anthony Fromm and Elita Rahn, who set the course records that year.
Fromm, who has run several marathons, including a few trips to Boston, had scooped up his daughter and carried her across the finish line on his shoulders. He still tells me that the Age of Sail was his favourite finish.
I was pretty happy with my race, and glad to see I was still improving. I was also not completely wrecked post-run like I had been in previous years, and was able to attend the post-race reception with my family. That had to be a good sign.
I have no desire to run with music anymore. It’s much safer to hear the traffic, and I love to hear the sounds of nature, especially the birds. But my music definitely helped me that day.
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