Safe at home

Where was I? Oh yes, wondering if running a familiar course was an advantage or disadvantage during a race. I have now reached a conclusion.

But, before that, a few thoughts on the Victoria marathon itself, as an event. This was my third race of that distance this year and, while hardly an expert, there is little doubt local organizers can be proud of the entire race weekend.

From winding efficiently through the Expo to the Speaker Series to starting on time, the event seemingly went off without a hitch. I say seemingly, as I’m sure organizers can point out things that weren’t perfect and they would like re-dos on; but they hid those from the public. So bravo.

It was a first-class weekend where all the details that could be controlled were; apparently the weather is outside of Cathy Noel’s superb skill set and while the rain tried to influence the day negatively it didn’t work.

So where was I? Yes, racing a course that is, in effect, the home course. In other sports, home field advantage is a good thing – you know the odd way the puck bounces off the boards in certain spots or how the wind will carry the ball in right field. But does that same dynamic apply to road racing? I was about to find out.

Now, there’s a reason golfers take a few practice rounds on a course – to get a feel, to try and anticipate how they might react in certain situations. Obviously 36 holes will not unlock the mysteries in the same manner as playing it every week, but it’s still better than not knowing. Same goes with running. It’s wise to take that bus trip or drive around a course to acclimatize yourself so you are aware of the undulating hills and not groaning through each motion.

This course, though, has been traversed many a time, as detailed earlier. So the worry was overthinking could lead to reduced performance. And while there was a bit of that, without doubt, it is fair to call it a draw. The good and bad balanced out, at least for me.

Putting aside the course for a moment, the start line literally being outside my workplace’s front door was a huge bonus. Got in, ate, had a coffee, stretched, went for a couple of walks, hit the loo and didn’t need to leave the cozy confines until about five minutes to go.

The sound of the air horn heralding the beginning and knowing the tightness of those first couple of turns (Michigan and Government) meant drifting into the middle to avoid being crushed or pushed into a curb. I’ll spare everyone a play-by-play of each segment. But the knowledge of the course was invaluable. How long is that hill? Right, so keep pace. How long is that hill? Right, slow pace slightly and make it up on downhill. How long and desolate a stretch is the next three kilometres? Keep focused and check out who has the most election signs.

The overall impact of the knowledge was a race run smartly – no surprises, no moments of near-death. And that also could be a reason why the home course is bad: no surprises, nothing unexpected to overcome. Isn’t that part of running?

I don’t know. It was a good day, as fun a day as running 42.2 kilometres in the rain can be. Reminds me of a comment George Chuvalo made after taking Ali 15 rounds and losing: ‘I went dancing with my wife, he went to the hospital.’ Meaning that at the end, I could walk to Zambri’s with little pain and enjoy a brew and some meatball and eggs. So job well done.

But there was another positive of the day. As a resident of the city and frequent follower of the foot paths, it is easy to forget how lucky we are to reside here. In earlier races I soaked up the sights as a travrunner and so I tried to take in all parts of the race and not just stare at a spot six feet in front of my own feet.

Victoria is often placed on must-do lists by running sites and it’s so easy to see why. The Inner Harbour, Cook St Village, Beacon Hill Park, Oak Bay, the marina and all that time spent running along the water – simply spectacular.

Oh and one more reason the race was memorable? The volunteers. Trite it may sound, but as you’re slogging along with soaked shoes, shirts and shorts they make all the difference. And I don’t mean the distribution of water and such. It’s the outpouring of goodwill, the thumbs up and the ‘you can do it’ and ‘what were you thinking?’ that greatly assists in getting to the finish line.

In future years, I probably won’t go back and redo a lot of races. And as I age, the distances may shrink. But I’m looking forward to always being able to run my home course. And that makes the advantage mine.