Normally just lurk here but just could not pass up this post.
The Toronto Marathon in 1978. As a small hick town skinny eighteen year old white guy, just moved to Toronto for school. Did'nt know a soul in the big city so took up running just to to pass time and stay in shape. Figured a few weeks of running was sufficient to enter a race.
The Toronto marathon was happening in late September that year and according to the Toronto Star, it was like the Boston marathon, net downhill, except it did not have a hill towards the end and thus was considered a fast course.
So two weeks before the race, went down to The Athletes Foot and registered. Back then Athletes Foot was a very good quality running store on Yonge Street across from the Eaton Center. Also picked up a pair of Nike flats. Not sure of the name, but they were white with black trim and a bright red swoosh, a yellow racing singlet and some yellow shorts. Could'nt believe how far the split came up at the sides of those shorts, but all the fast guys were wearing them so they had to be good!
Shocker came when eavesdropping on some of the runners in the store mentioning training and mileage. Heard in the 70's to 100's and figured they were elite runners.
Never did measure my mileage but figured about a total of 15 miles a week 4 mornings of running at no faster than 10 minute pace. Don't think the longest run was greater than 40 minutes. But with all the hype and hoopala surrounding the race, and it was down hill right; how hard can that be?
The Big Day came. Got way up to the front of the pack before the gun went off (after all at 125lbs, 5 9" dressed in new shorts, singlet and shoes, this guy looked like he belonged up there).
Managed to run about 100 yards with the big boys before thinking it might be good idea to 'slow down a bit'. After about 5 miles; thought it might be a good idea to 'slow down some more'. After 15 miles hurting bad. Stumbled into Varsity Stadium five hours and thirty six minutes after starting. Did'nt get a medal, a certificate or even a 'good job' comment from anyone; the finish line was being torn down.
To add insult to injury, gear bag that they transported from the start on the bus was not there. Now living up near York University is about as far away as you can possibly get in Toronto from Varsity Stadium downtown. Dazed, confused wearing this ridiculous outfit with not a dime and feeling too foolish to ask for a lift or help, started the twenty plus mile trek on foot back up Yonge street towards home.
Stopped and sat on a curb about a mile from home, physically and mentally exhaused and it was starting to get dark. A kind clerk at a little Italian cafe on Keele near Steeles sensed something was wrong and brought out some pistachio gellato without saying a word.
Twenty six years later still love pistachio ice cream, learned to train, rarely miss a day of running, knocked 3 hours and 45 minutes off of that first road race marathon time, always stick around to cheer for the penguins, never value the trophies, medals, certificates, awards or accolades but know that regardless of how well or poorly training, racing or life gets for this writer; it will never get as bad as that day of the 1978 Toronto Marathon or as good as those ten minutes outside of that little Italian cafe on Keele near Steeles.