Month: April 2025

Boston Marathon Musings

I’m looking forward to visiting Cafe Books in beautiful Canmore in a few weeks, for an in-store book event.

If you can make it on May 17, I’d love to see you there, for a chat about running, my stroke journey, and of course, my book!

Speaking of running, I’ve almost let the week go by without a blog post, but this week—Boston Marathon week—is too special to pass up. A gutsy performance by one of my teammates, who demonstrated character by overcoming injuries to finish the race, prompted me to start writing—congratulations Jason!

If there is one road race that stands above all others, it is the Boston Marathon. There are many reasons for this, and it would take much more than one short piece to go through them. I can already see more posts being needed!

Why Boston Matters

Boston is a celebration of tradition and history. The race is a tribute to athletic excellence, with many of the great runners having won in Boston—Tom Longboat, Johnny Miles, Ron Hill, Bill Rodgers, Jerome Drayton. It’s a unique sporting event, where the best professional runners compete on the same road, at the same time, with the most devoted amateurs. The crescendo of support—from the quiet country roads of Ashland, to the enthusiastic women of Wellesley College at the halfway point, to the screaming crowds in Kenmore Square—makes every inch of the route special.

Devotion doesn’t begin to describe what it takes to earn an entry to Boston. Talent, dedication, and good luck are also needed. Then, just to get to the start line in Hopkinton on the third Monday in April takes extraordinary commitment, focused training, and more good luck. Those fortunate enough to reach the historic finish line on Boylston Street will have dealt with one of the most devilish, net downhill, point-to-point race courses anywhere in the world; and unpredictable weather conditions that can include everything from torrential rain to blistering heat.

What all the fuss is about… the Boston Marathon route and elevation map

Some context might be helpful. Today, running a marathon is seen by many beginners as part of a natural progression, as an achievement that lets someone call themselves a runner. (That isn’t true, by the way.) For many years, the 42.195km distance was the domain of the sport’s fringe players: tough, sinewy, hard men. Yes, they were almost all men. And while it may have been debated, the Boston Marathon was at, or at least near, the pinnacle of the world’s top marathons.

I think of two eras for the Boston Marathon: pre- and post-1996. You see, 1996 was the 100th anniversary of the race. Compared to prior years, the field that year was huge. Since then, demand for entries has ballooned, as more runners add Boston to their bucket list. To their credit, the Boston Athletic Association (the BAA) found a way to squeeze more runners onto the narrow roads of Route 135 by adding wave starts (and by upping their game on the organization side).

I will add an opinion that may not be popular with some readers. The BAA will never be able to accommodate the demand for entries to this most desirable race. And that is fine with me. Boston has always been (and in my view, should remain) exclusive… it should be an event set aside for those who can earn a place. Opening it up to any and all participants would only dilute what makes the race special.

Personal Connections

I’ve run Boston three times. It’s been such an integral part of my running life—my first running life, that is—that I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t want to run it. Through the 1980s and 1990s, the race was an enigma and a vague aspiration. It was an event that I read about on the back page of the sports section. If I wanted to know more, I would have to dig deep. And I did. But in the days before social media, I had more questions than answers: Where should I even begin? How would I qualify… or enter? My god, assuming I did enter, how would I run the damn thing?

Let’s just say I worked my way up to the race. I call it doing my apprenticeship. Finally, in 2001, for the 105th running, I felt ready to tackle the challenge. It helped that I qualified by a comfortable margin in another of my favourite races, the 2000 Royal Victoria Marathon.

I wrote extensively about my first Boston Marathon experience in Stroke of Luck. It is, quite simply, one of the defining events of my life. My family made the trek to Boston with me, having sacrificed much to make my 25-year dream possible. The race itself was a personal triumph. I planned well and I executed well. I met my optimistic goal by going under three hours. I even put aside my competitive instincts—a little—to smile and wave at the best marathon fans in the world. In short, I finished knowing I had done everything humanly possible to achieve this result. As I said in the book:

“The numbers were impressive and satisfying, but they were only numbers. I was at a loss for words to describe what I was feeling. Years later, I still have trouble. It was exceptional. Momentous. Transcendent. It was everything I had hoped it would be.”

That magical day in April 2001 was the culmination of a long personal journey. I believe that putting substance to my childhood dream, working towards it, and finally achieving it, says more about me than words can ever do.

I’ve been back to run Boston twice more. The experiences were each different and in their own way, worth writing about. There’s no question that for sheer emotional intensity, nothing could compare to the first time I made those famous turns, the ones every Boston finisher will recognize—“right on Hereford, left on Boylston”. Look for more in future posts.

For now, I’ll ride the annual Marathon Monday wave for a little while longer.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Favourite Hikes: Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit

One of our current home projects is a decluttering exercise. And one of the major targets for cleanup is our collection of photographs. Like many families, we have a box—make that several boxes—full of snapshots. The work of identifying and digitizing keepers is challenging. Still, there is always the element of surprise, as we rediscover treasures from the past.

Archiving “vintage” photographs gave me an idea for a new series—let’s call it Favourite Hikes. Deborah and I have enjoyed the mountain parks for 40 years. We are not the most avid hikers, but we have many fond memories of time spent in the mountains. This series will be a chance to revisit some of our personal highlights.

The Alpine Circuit

Near the top of our list of favourite Rocky Mountain hikes is the Lake O’Hara Alpine Circuit. And we’re not alone. This hike is widely regarded as one of the classic alpine circuits in the Canadian Rockies. By extension, it surely ranks among the best mountain hikes in the world.

Starting at the historic Lake O’Hara Lodge, the Alpine Circuit is a picturesque 11-kilometre loop, which touches several of the highlights of this exclusive region of Yoho National Park. Deb and I have done the hike twice, roughly 25 years apart (last in August 2014). I think we agree that it was a bit more challenging the second time!

Wiwaxy Gap and Huber Ledges

Done in the usual clockwise direction, the Alpine Circuit hike makes the most of the elevation gained from a strenuous 500-metre climb from the lake up to Wiwaxy Gap. Because this climb consumes the first hour of the hike, it makes the rest of the outing that much more enjoyable. Make no mistake though, there are plenty of elevation gains and losses to come.

The climbing begins soon after leaving the shoreline. Hearts will be pounding by the time the col at the base of Wiwaxy Peak is reached. The word “Wiwaxy” means “windy” in the Stoney Nakoda language, and it is an accurate description. The winds can be strong in the gap. If you aren’t breathless when you arrive, the views of Victoria and Huber Glaciers to the north should do the trick!

Although it means a slow loss of elevation, the next segment is a 2-kilometre traverse of the Huber Ledges to Lake Oesa. Finding the trail is easy, with blue and yellow patches marking the way. As we found on a late-season hike on the ledges in 2013, wet or snowy conditions can make the footing tricky.

There are glimpses of the lake as you progress along the ledges, and the feeling of anticipation is palpable.

Lake Oesa and Yukness Ledges

If there is a better spot for a picnic lunch anywhere in the Rockies than Lake Oesa, I’d like to know where that is. Oesa is another Stoney Nakoda word—it means “corner”. There’s some debate about whether the lake’s name is pronounced “oh-EE-sa” or “oh-ESS-a”. However you pronounce it, Oesa is a place you feel you could stay for hours. But, remembering that there is more to see, you finish your lunch, cinch up your boots, and get back on the trail.

Now it’s some easy scrambling on the scree slopes of Yukness Mountain. There are some short exposed sections as you work your way around the Yukness Ledges toward the next major stop at Opabin Lake. The route becomes less scrambly as you approach the lake. There are amazing views of Lake O’Hara along this section of the route, and Opabin is another perfect spot to take a breather.

Opabin Plateau and All Souls Prospect

Opabin Plateau is another area worth exploring—it’s a hanging valley, with plenty of small pools and of course, great views. There’s a short climb up to Opabin Prospect if you are feeling strong. The stone steps crossing the plateau were constructed decades ago by Lawrence Grassi, a legendary trail builder who left his mark all over the Lake O’Hara region.

If the Alpine Circuit is your goal, there’s more work to do—a climb from Opabin to All Souls Prospect. On the scree trail above Opabin Plateau, the route to All Souls may be the toughest part of the hike. Again, the blue and yellow markers are a big help. The viewpoint itself is a scraggly spot on the flank of Mount Schaffer. The spectacular views over Schaffer Lake and the Odaray Plateau make the effort of getting there worthwhile.

From All Souls Prospect, just when your quads least want to know about it, there’s some downclimbing needed, as you pick your way through boulder fields and a larch forest. There’s a gentle stroll past the Elizabeth Parker Hut and the Le Relais campsite before reaching the finish at Lake O’Hara.

Summing Up

It’s worth mentioning that any of the trails that connect to form the Alpine Circuit can be done on their own. There are also many offshoots and logical connections between trails. In fact, the Lake O’Hara region has so many great hikes that I’m already thinking of another piece.

Much has been written about Lake O’Hara. It’s one of those places that’s hard to describe unless you’ve been there. Pictures don’t do it justice. And in this area that’s defined by superlatives, there’s one hike that seems to capture the magic of Lake O’Hara best—the Alpine Circuit. Deb and I feel fortunate to have completed the Circuit, twice.

Until next time, happy trails. Be well, and BE FAST!