LIVESTRONG

yesterday was LIVESTRONG day. a chance to support L.A. on-line, and also, i believe, the anniversary of when he was first diagnosed with cancer.

i wore my yellow bracelet proudly all day...

but that is not really what this blog is about. it is, rather, about my run yesterday afternoon, and how i had an epiphany that confirmed for me (again, like i need more confirmation) why i do this, what is beautiful about the training, the racing, the pure joy of pushing and enjoying your body and seeing what it can do. and these are things that LIVESTRONG and L.A. himself stand for; at least in my mind. triumph over adversity, excellence, and the pure joy of sport as a celebration of life.

this blog is about an impromtu, definitely un-sanctioned, foot race. enjoy it while listening to the song below, which is also about an un-official race.

the day was sunny, temperate and a little bit windy. an archetypal, beautiful autumn day in toronto. the sky had its own hue of blue, red and grey that signals autumn is here; the air, while crisp, was not cold yet, but not warm either. the fall air bounces off your skin, sometimes warm, sometimes a little cool. it is not heavy, like summer air. there is a lightness to it that makes running the perfect activity.  the late afternoon sun was a bright pale that glittered on leaves that are just about changing colour to beautiful yellows and reds.

i was feeling a bit tired. i had a very tough swim at lunch that i had to push through the whole time. i am six weeks out from ironman, so i am tired all the time, and i tend to vacillate between feeling on top of the world with excitement about what i am doing, and feeling really, really tired, and having to overcome a fair amount of inertia to get myself mentally into the next workout. plus,  i have a bump on my hip from a mis-hap the other day, so the first few steps were quite paniful, but i was fine once i got going.

i had my ipod on and U2 were playing "two hearts beat as one". i decided to head through the city to a converted railway track that is now a trail that runs through a somewhat impoverished, industrial part of town. the trail in question is the west toronto rail path. i have really  enjoyed my runs on  that trail and thought the fall colours seen through the prism of the pale autumn light would be even more spectacular when presented on the industrial backdrop of old factories, railway tracks and converted warehouses. i was right.

just as i turned around to head back to my office, a point at which  my schedueld run called for some short strides, another runner, in compression socks, racing flats and sporting a chicago marathon cap, came running up beside me and then passed.

maybe he was looking for some fun in the autumn sun. maybe not. maybe he was just running his own pace (in which case, he is a pretty good runner). who knows? but my run called for strides, and strides i did, and passed him and then slowed back to my steady pace for 30 seconds until my next set of strides came up. he caught me and passed, again, then i sped up again, doing another 30 second stride and passed him. at this point, intentionally or not, we were caught in a game of cat and mouse.

my friend pulled ahead and set a pace that was clearly intended to either goad me into a fight, break my spirit or both. his stride lenthened, his cadence picked up. i thought about letting him go for a second, but i was enjoying this too much. and he had activated my competitive side. if he wanted a race, i was gonna give him one. in that moment, i decided to throw caution to the wind.  soundgarden came on the ipod "like the sun we will live to rise...like the sun we will live and die and ignite again". i got fired up. my pace quickened. i was game. suddenly, this was not just a training run. i was in a race. i thought about the rush song, red barchetta, how the young boy in the song encounters another dude screaming through the countryside in a sports-car and they, exchanging no words, decide to race. it felt as though we were acting out that song, sans autos. this was living art.

one of the prettiest parts of the west toronto rail path

i followed at a distance of about 1 meter. i knew he could hear me.  i could tell it from his body language. he was every bit in the race as i was. we ran off a 3:50 kilometer and i wondered how long i could hold on to this pace, how it would affect my 4 hour ride the next day, but i was in the game and there was no backing out now. i felt him weaken. i don't know how i knew it, but just as i sensed a surge earlier, i knew he was slowing a bit, getting tired. it was strange how in touch i was with this other person's functional physiology. a person i had met only a few minutes earlier, whom i had never spoken to, who i couldn't even hear properly because of the music blaring in my head.  i made my move.

the end of the trail was about 1/2 k ahead. i could not afford a long race today, so i decided in my head that i would hold the lead until then, putting further insult into him by blistering up the hill at the end of the trail and thus exerting my alpha maleness.

he responded briefly and pulled beside me, but i surged more and that was it. i knew i had him.

what i want to communicate, what i really can't communicate, is the epiphany that occured in these moments. i was happy. i could barely suppress my smile. as much as i wanted to run my friend into the ground and i was prepared to endure pain to do it, i held no malice towards him. in fact, i appreciated his existence in those moments as much as anything,  and i wished i could let him know that. competition is a game. take the game too seriuosly and you can lose the joy. when competition is mixed with the right amount of play, it elevates us. this is sport at its best. it is why competing is special and why you can't get the same thing on your own.  everything about our foot race, the sun, the air, the leaves, the pure pleasure of running as fast as we were, trying to out do eachother, all of it, was a moment of pure experience that evoked a kind of joy i remember from childhood (probably running as fast as i could back then too).

at the top of the hill, i waited for traffic to clear, and for my friend to crest the hill behind me. he was heading in the other direction. we didn't make eye contact. i wasn't able to thank him for the race. he kind've huffed off, apparently he did not expereience the epiphany i just had. i headed off down a busy city street and resumed the steady pace my scheduled run called for.

we were back to reality again. or at least i was.