Who has bragging rights? I do! I do!
21st annual Abbotsford Police Challenge:
- 8:30 a.m. BG before: 12.1
- Temp. basal: -50 per cent (3 hours)
- Distance: 10 km
- Average pace: 5:54 min/km
- Time: 58:54
- 10:30 a.m. BG after: 14.2
- Temp. basal: +50 per cent (2 hours)
On Friday my big brother called me up as he was walking into the shoe store to purchase a new pair of shoes for our race yesterday (apparently no one told him that was a bad idea) and he informed me that he was going to run like the wind. I tried hard, but unsuccessfully, not to burst out laughing.
Truthfully I was nervous as heck going into this run. I mean I’m the one who trains for marathons and half marathons and who runs multiple times a week. If my big brother, who plays soccer but does not train for distance running beat me, the gloating I would have to endure, and the extended ribbing that would surely come from my other siblings, would be absolutely torturous to say the least.
For the first half of the race, he was on fire. He shot out of the starting gate like a mentos induced bottle of coke, and I thought alright, it’s on. We passed a few of my peeps who shouted out “Go Katie Go” and upon hearing this, he decided to inform them there was another racer on the course to cheer for too. He turned his head back and shouted out “And Matt too!”
If this were a 5 km race, I’m not so sure I’d be gloating today. For the first 5 km, we were going a good 5:00 to 5:30 pace. I felt good, he looked strong. But given that he’s a well-conditioned sprinter, I’m thinking the dash to the finish line at 5 km may have had me puking to keep his pace. But it wasn’t a 5 km race, it was 10 – 10 with a hill at the halfway mark called Heartbreak Hill!
Now we all know my love for hills is strong, but seriously this hill was never ending, it went on and on and on, and when my big brother, cursing the hill with every stride he took, slowed to a walk, I was happy to join him. As we finally crested the hill’s peak, he saw a buddy at the water station holding three cups of water, and with his face the shade of a cherry, he huffed out a pleading, “In my face, Jonas, in my face.” I’m pretty sure it was that hill that broke him.
A few times in the run, I asked him if he needed the pace to slow down, and all I’d get in return was a grunt. But at 6 km, I got the words I so very much desired: “I concede. You’re faster than me. Now slow the *#@% down!”
We did slow down a bit, and Matt started to take a few more walking breaks, but I really wanted to get us into the finish before an hour, so I didn’t slow it down too, too much. I kept telling him we were almost there, that we just had 2 km to go, 1 km, that we were going to make it within an hour. I’m not so sure it helped though … you know when you over exert yourself and the last thing you want to hear is words of encouragement or any words for that matter, I’m thinking that’s probably where he was, especially after hearing him mutter “I don’t care!”
With just about 400 metres to go, I kept looking at him, thinking he was gonna pull out this burst of speed and blow me out of the water. With 300 metres to go, he looked back at me and said “Go!”
My gawd I love 10 km races! The marathon I had no added burst of energy, even the half marathon it was hard to find that extra push, but for the 10 km finish, I jacked up my speed and sprinted like I’d never sprinted before – with a galloping leap of victory mixed in!
Because this was my big brother’s first ever race, I wanted it to be memorable regardless of whether I beat him (so thankful I did) or if he beat me. So on Friday, after my specialist’s appointment, I did some running around and created a super awesome Recovery Kit, containing everything a good runner needs for recovery: salted chocolate, superhero Band-aids, blister and anti-chafing cream (although he probably should have had that beforehand) electrolyte recovery drink, nipple Band-aids, and of course, beer!
Even though my big brother crossed the finish line stating “Well that was stupid,” as he grabbed a bottle of water and proceeded to crash on the grass, hours later he was ready to put his sneakers on the line again, requesting a rematch. “I can’t possibly let you hold bragging rights for a whole year,” he said.
Next time, he will – apparently – run like the wind 😉 But until then, the bragging rights are ALL mine!!!
Princess: 58:54. Big Brother: 58:57. I win!