6:30 AM
MEL LASTMAN SQUARE
TORONTO, ONTARIO

It’s a nervous pee.

Months of training, days of sleepless nights spent stressing over one race. I go over it again in my mind; it will be the same as any other training run, just with thousands of people running beside me.

I wash my hands and leave the bathroom.

Five minutes later I return to the facilities again. It’s a nervous pee. Months of training, days of sleepless nights spent stressing …

6:50AM

I see other participants slowly starting to trickle in. My heart rate increases, the anticipation and excitement already having their effect on me mentally and physically.

My wife grabs my hand, with quiet reassurance. She knows me. She knows what I’ve been through to get here.

“Let’s grab some breakfast.” she says with a smile.

My best friend, my sister, my wife, and my brother in law are there with me; my personal entourage. Each of them wears a matching black shirt with a bright red and yellow Superman logo emblazoned on it. I am wearing the same: A Nike Combat Pro, short sleeve Dri-Fit with a giant S on my chest.

Call it vain. Call it whatever you like. It ended up being one of the best decisions I could’ve made for that day.

“Sounds good.” I try to say calmly, projecting a relaxed demeanour horribly.

We walk up to a Tim Horton’s. Everyone has coffee, tea, breakfast sandwiches, etc. I eat a 12 grain bagel with peanut butter, and pull my 1 L water bottle from my backpack. It’s pre-filled with Vegan’s Choice running fluid.

We all chat for a few minutes after we finish, then head back towards the race start.

7:30 AM

It’s impossible to count how many people are here. My heart is racing. I need to calm down; my muscles are starting to tighten from the stress I am giving them.

“Julie, where are you?” I say into my phone, noticing my sister has the video camera pointed at me. I look directly into it. “Julie, if you’re watching this, answer your damned phone!”

Julie has been my running partner through all of this. She knows my medical issues; she knows my running style; she knows everything a partner should know. And she isn’t here.

My phone rings a few moments later. It’s Julie! “Hey, where are you? Oh, hey Marcella. Washroom? Ok. I’ll be at the two hour pace bunny. Get Julie to meet me there. Thanks, I’m excited too. See you at the finish.”

7:50 AM

I am one in the midst of the crowd. I have issues with crowds. Why didn’t I think of that when I first started running? Still can’t find Julie. I shake the nervousness off my hands. It’s cold. Stay limber.

7:57 AM

I’m going to have to do this by myself. I’m strong. I trained well. They have medical personnel if needed. My wife is available by cell. I can do this. I’m strong. What would Roc do? Roc’s not real. Why am I thinking about this now? I have to pee.

8 AM – 0 km

Everyone is cheering. Everyone is shuffling forward. I’m sure the pack will break up. Nobody is here. It’s just you. It’s all you.

8:01 AM – 100 m

“GO SUPERMAN!!!” I hear my wife’s voice above the crowd. I love her so much. I got this.

8:27 – 5 km

Hob’s Hollow? Hog’s Hollow? I never was sure what they called it, they being every runner I know from the Running Room that has ran this marathon. They warned me during our hill training sessions “Once you get by Hob’s Hollow, it’s all downhill, but it’s a mountain to get over. Just slow down, take your time, you’ll be fine.” For the record, it’s not all down hill after.

I speed up. I had trained for a 5m30s pace. I’m running at 5m flat.

My breathing is controlled. Strong, slow. My legs aren’t even warmed up yet. I pass people by the dozen. I reach the top of the hill and smile at myself. I take a deep breath and keep going at the same pace.

9 AM – 10.5 km

There are several articles of clothing scattered on the ground: long sleeve shirts, gloves, toques … just like I was told. It’s a runner’s tradition to cast off your “throwaways”, cheap clothing you wear to stay warm until your body heats up from activity. The cast offs are then donated to local charities. It’s a nice gesture. Glad I don’t see any jock straps.

Water station up ahead on the right. I move as far as I can to the left. I’m guessing it’s another tradition to crush your Gatorade cup and smush it into the pavement, but honestly it’s repulsive. The street looks like a giant Gatorade stain, with hundreds of littered cups sprawled across the runway. I reach my hand to my water belt; I’ll hydrate when I need to, when I want to, not when I’m dictated to.

9:12 AM – 12 km

I’m starting to tire, and still have 9 kilometers to go. Shit. If Julie were here, she’d know what to say. She’d say I’m the inspiring one. I laugh. It throws off my breathing. I hope she’s having a good race. I don’t know if I can finish this on my own. I hear the voices of those I’ve trained with encouraging me onwards. I redouble my efforts and push forward. I look at my watch; I’m maintaining my race pace of 5m30s. Slower than I was for a few kilometers, but that’s ok; my goal is still just to finish, and injury free.

9:20 AM – 13.4 km

My head hangs heavy, staring at the pavement in front of me. I’m drenched in sweat, but I’m accustomed to that. The sun is bright in the sky, but it’s pleasant, not overwhelming with its heat. I drink some of my Vegan’s Choice fluid.

I’m done. I can’t go on. I just don’t have it in me. My wife will understand. She’ll still be proud of me.

I look up to see the runners ahead of me, looking for some glimpse of motivation I can use to push forward, to finish. I see a Superman shirt. I see Julie walking towards me.

It’s like my race just started. I am energized. I am strong. I can do this.

9:50 AM – 18 km

We turn northwards onto University Avenue. It’s a slight incline of maybe 5 degrees. It’s going to be like this all the way to the finish line. Five degrees may not sound like much, but after 18 kilometers it’s far worse than Hob’s/Hog’s Hollow could ever have been.

It hits us both hard, but we’re determined. We dig deeper. Julie’s breathing rapidly. I realize I am as well. My mind wants to run as fast as I possibly can, just to get this damn race over with. Julie tells me to keep pace. I listen to her.

I hear a parent telling her son, “Look! It’s Superman!” and the small child’s eyes lighting up at seeing me. It’s been happening all race long, and like every other time it’s happened, I smile, salute, and am invigorated with energy.

“We got this.” I say to Julie, and push us both a little harder.

10:02 AM – 20.9 km

I hear the announcer at the Finish Line. I see the blurred red banner in the distance. I don’t wear my glasses when I run. It’s why I chose Superman shirts. The symbol is easy to make out, making my friends and family easier to find, yet another good reason for wearing the shirt.

I hear the roar of the crowd washing over me. Adrenaline pounds through my veins, supercharging my muscles.

I sprint.

I can hear the voice of my best friend over everyone, “GO! GO! GO! PUSH! PUSH!”

I run faster and faster.

10:02:28 AM – 21.1 km

I cross the finish line at the Toronto Good Life Marathon; my first marathon. I can’t stop smiling.

Julie crosses right behind me. We hug. We nearly fall down.

I receive my first medal. I hope I will earn more from this point forward.

11:30 AM

I’ve eaten. I’ve received a massage. I’ve cooled down. I’ve found my family.

1 PM

It feels like I just ate several pounds of meat. That’s a good feeling today. Protein. Happy body.

We laugh, enjoying each other’s company. I have a good family. I enjoy their tales of the day over Korean BBQ.

I am loved. I am thankful.

I’m going to sleep so well tonight.