It turns out that the first moments of the Vancouver Sun Run are very similar to the first part of any death-defying water slide.
You have found yourself standing there, maybe in spite of yourself, and you鈥檙e stuck in a chute facing an unknown journey. You think about how uncomfortable it could get, and wonder if you look ridiculous in your chosen clothing. You think about how it could go wrong, and the potential for injury.
You wiggle, a lot, looking for any sign that you should abandon this plan and head back home. Instead you鈥檙e faced with a sea of faces, pasted on equally silly people in the same predicament.
Then you get the nudge 鈥� either by a swaying mob of 50,000 runners, or a teenager at their first summer job 鈥� and you鈥檙e suddenly unstuck from the chute and are moving down, down, down to your chosen fate. You no longer have a choice. You鈥檙e doing it.
This is what I was thinking about while running downhill in the first kilometre of my first Sun Run. At first, I felt as out of place as I would teetering atop the Valley of Fear, with my 48-year-old body shivering in the shadow of the downtown Vancouver skyline. I thought about all the past injuries and insults my body had seen.
I thought about the times I couldn鈥檛 run, and my promise to myself to get to this starting point. That should have been the internal motivation I needed. It usually works. But this time, instead of this pumping me up, it only worked to convince me that I had already shown the world just what my body can endure.
My right hip, the location where I had radiation so many years ago, ached more than ever. My skin was cold. My tummy was upset. I had gone from grinning to pouting.
I could just walk away from the mob and go back to my car, and drive home. I suggested this to my boyfriend as he towered over me and examined the endless crowds ahead of us and behind us. And he reminded me that I dragged him there, and that I would indeed be sticking it out.
Fine.
And then, we started to move. It was slow at first, but within a few minutes, we had shuffled a few blocks. After more than an hour of standing in the cold, we were finally on the move.
My feet carried me down the hill, and that first kilometre slipped away easily, and the inevitable happened. I started to enjoy myself. I remembered how much I love running, despite my slow pace. If this were a water slide, my hands would have been in the air. I grinned, ear to ear.
I remembered that once I was done the first kilometre, I only had to do it nine more times. Around the two-kilometre mark, I did the math again and realized I鈥檇 not factored in the need to use the washroom. And I wasn鈥檛 alone.
I was forced to watch the runners who expected to finish in 1:15 mins, like me, carry themselves down the road up and out of sight. I stood staring at a bank of porta-potties. But I wasn鈥檛 alone. It seemed dozens of us had made the same mistake, and we all stared at each other, our feet, and a stream of runners that was morphing into a stream of walkers, as we waited our turn to relieve ourselves.
Back in the mob, it was quickly clear there would be no momentum to push us all along from that first pit stop. Instead, the walkers became obstacles to overcome, adding slight distances and slower times as we navigated whole families strolling down the centre of the run.
I grimaced and breathed as calmly as possible, and trusted that my legs would get me to the end. And of course, they did.
No injuries. No war stories. I survived, and my non-runner boyfriend thrived.
We were among a group of about 10 for our Carpenter Media Team, the InkCredibles. Some of us walked, some ran slow, and at least one completed an impressive run under 50 minutes. We all gathered at the finish line for our group shot before heading off in various directions.
It鈥檚 a scene that will be played out over and over again as race season really ramps up, especially here in Chilliwack. Like the Sun Run, these races use registration fees and donations to give back to the community. For that reason, I鈥檓 always excited to see good turnouts, and community support.
If you鈥檙e considering signing up for a walk, run or ride this summer, well, good job! I hope you do well. Just know it鈥檚 a slippery slope to running more of them, and you could get the same thrill at your local water park.
