How long does a runner’s high last? It’s been two weeks since I ran the Georgina Spring Fling half marathon race — a busy, at times difficult two weeks — and yet I can still feel some of the euphoria I felt crossing the finish line. I still get over-excited talking about it. It was my first race of this length, and it went even better than I had hoped. Chip time 02:06:39; gun time 02:07:14; overall pace 6:00m/km. And now I want to do it again and again.
Last summer and early fall were frustrating for running: an interruption here, a minor injury there; I could not get a good streak or rhythm going. But just like in fall 2022, things came together in November. I posted a new personal best on the 5k ParkRun (26:31) and felt fit enough to try the half marathon again: same route, just on my own. It was harder going this time. It was 7-8°C, a little breezy, but with enough sun peeking through the clouds that I almost instantly regretted the long sleeves and leggings. I fatigued and felt pain earlier. And yet, I was faster than the previous year by 3m40s. Part of it was knowing what to expect. And as before, Hanno offered great support: water and extra energy chews at the turnaround point, flyers posted at a road crossing (though somehow I missed them on the run!), and professional photography. It felt good to improve, but I said to myself then and there: next time I do this, I want it to be an official race.
Winter was surprisingly mild, only a week or two of a truly cold spell, although even then I managed to run, even at -14°C (with no wind) and -9°C (with). This meant that I could train through the winter and not lose form. I also, this spring, finally started some physiotherapy for that hip flexor, which has been helpful. I increased my weekly running distance to 25-30k, including a 10k just about every week and a 7k route that included a few small hills. Running felt easier; my heart rate was not going up so high. I felt — I was — fitter than I had ever been in my life. Still, I initially signed up for the 10k race, and only upgraded to half marathon at the last possible moment. I need to make sure I felt ready.
On race morning, I was nervous and on edge — not the best start, as I knew from prior experience that a race setting could lead me to overdo it. I fuelled up with peanut butter on bread and a banana, coffee, and probably a bit too much water. Hanno drove me to the starting point and went on to find parking. He was not running this time; this race was my thing, and I was grateful for his support. The number of people in the park was a bit overwhelming, and one could tell immediately who the elite runners were, both those with light blue marathon bibs and those with orange, for half marathon. It was overcast, cool (about 12°C), and damp; it rained overnight and in the morning, and drizzle was still hanging in the air. I walked around to keep warm, did some leg stretches, and used the washroom — twice. I lined up behind the 2:10:00 half marathon pacer, hoping to beat my previous solo attempt, and soon we were off.
Strangely, I did not feel the urge to start out too fast. There was enough space not to jostle with other runners, and it was clear from the outset that everyone was running their own race. Marathoners mixed with half-marathoners; everyone probably had a different strategy. The atmosphere was festive; I was happy and at ease, and it felt good just to be running. I was impressed, too, at the camaraderie between runners and the support from the locals along the way. The course itself, along the shore of Lake Simcoe, lived up to its reputation: “Fast, Flat, and Scenic.”
One plan of mine that did go out the window was to the plan to include 30-second walking intervals every 2-3k. I just did not feel tired enough to justify the embarrassment, so I kept going. I noticed almost right away that I was moving faster than usual with less effort. Most of my running, and nearly all of my longer runs, have been on the Trans-Canada Trail, which is packed dirt and gravel, so the road surface clearly made a difference. The 2:10:00 pacer and her friend caught up with me (I’m not sure how I had lost them), and I stayed with them for a while, but by the turnaround mark I was ahead again. Hanno was there to cheer me on from the sidelines at 3.5k, and again at the turnaround. We exchanged a few words, and he noted how I was ahead of the pacer. My thought was, in the worst case I could just follow them again, but something told me I would stay ahead. I was running well, and happy, speeding up a little, and even starting to pass other runners.
I used aid stations sparingly: did not stop at all of them, and alternated between gatorade and water — the latter mainly to clean my face and hands after the messy nutrition gels, which I had at around 8k and 13k. A few sips at a time were sufficient. The grey skies were merciful, and I was still fresh even at 16k. A light drizzle helped, as did the inspiring sight of top marathoners flying towards me, already on their second loop, their feet making a loud impact on the pavement.
I thought of my last 5k as a ParkRun on tired legs. Legs — not heart rate, not breath — were my main challenge. I had managed most of the distance with 4 steps on the inhale, 7 on the exhale, and only recently switched to 4-6. I could even speak briefly to another runner, and a gentleman approached me afterwards to compliment my steady pacing. Hanno turned up again around 3.5k from the finish line, and encouraged me to keep going. Photos show me still smiling, but I was in some pain. Still, I made a push. On the last 2k or so, my pace was nearly at ParkRun levels; I passed several runners — one grunting very loudly with every step. The last few hundred meters, I was flying, and grinning ear to ear. I heard the announcer call my name at the finish line, and let out a triumphant cry. Someone handed me a finisher’s medal. Hanno was there to greet me with a hug. How he managed to show up in several key places along the route, even with the car, still boggles my mind; I am grateful. I grabbed a water bottle and a couple of bananas to refuel. My legs (hips mainly) were sore, so we walked slowly the 1k or so to the car. A big chicken burrito was my reward lunch. An exertion headache did hit me about an hour after the event, but it did not develop into a migraine, and one Tylenol took care of it. My recovery time was very quick. I was running again within two days, albeit slower.
For about a week, the half was practically all I could talk about. I was elated, and very pleased with myself, both the result and how I went about it. I know I will never be an elite runner. At 40, and having only started running in late 2019, I don’t know how many years I have before my aging outpaces my training. Perhaps one day I can make it into the top 50% of half marathon finishers. Perhaps once in my lifetime I will finish a full marathon race. But my main hope is to keep running for many years to come. I will not soon forget that euphoria, and I will be chasing it for as long as I can. Running is joy, running is freedom, running is life.
Yulia Ryzhik 
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