Training – My Second Running Life

Calgary Police Classic 8k Race Report

It’s been too long since my last post. Sometimes life intervenes, and sometimes I run short of ideas. This piece came about when an opportunity presented itself, despite many current distractions. What transpired seemed worthy of a few lines.

Some Background

The 8 kilometre/5 mile distance is rarely contested. Over all the years I’ve been running, I’ve raced this distance only a handful of times. It’s a shame, because for me the 8k/5M is the ideal race distance.

Here’s a picture of me from the archives, at the finish of the 1988 Chasquis 5 Mile Classic in Edmonton. Yes, that was 38 years ago. The photo is actually a scan of a proof for race photos that I never ordered. I suspect I’m too late to order the pictures now. My finish time in that race (27:53 for 5 miles, equivalent to 27:43 for 8k) remains my PB for the distance. I can’t find many other data points. You’ll note that I had a modest crowd cheering me to the finish — more on that later.

Finish of the 1988 Chasquis 5 Mile Classic, Edmonton

Returning to the present, I was tempted by my fondness for the distance when my teammate Jason began twisting my arm to sign up for the 8k in the Calgary Police Classic. I eventually gave in to the peer pressure — that’s a good thing — and I was thrilled when several of my Adrenaline Rush teammates did the same. We would have a large contingent on race morning, in the 8k and Half Marathon.

I should add a few words about the event. The Calgary Police Classic is the current name of a race that has had various incarnations over its 46-year history. In April 1992, when I first ran it, and for many years after, the Police Half Marathon was a fixture on the spring calendar. I have fond memories of that day, because I ran my PB for the distance. I went on to run the race many times. It was always well organized, and attracted a high calibre field. The swag used to be a notch above other races too.

Now, many years on, RunCalgary has taken over delivery of the race. There have been changes of venue and timing, but it remains one of the premier races in Calgary. The 8k was added in 2025. I think it was an excellent decision.

The 2026 Edition

My training has been going well — a couple of recent workouts with teammates Vanessa (an “out and back faster” session) and Jen (a one-hour run with 12 x 1 minute strides) gave me reason to be optimistic. Still, one never knows what will happen on race day.

Thinking about my plan, I realized I could use the course to my advantage. It was a simple out and back, starting from the Mewata Armoury on 11 Street SW, with a straight shot west on Memorial Drive to the turnaround. I figured that if I could set a comfortable pace going out, I’d have a chance on the downhill, downwind return to hold my pace over the second half of the race.

It was chilly at the start, so I put on a toque and gloves. I knew I’d be fine with a singlet and shorts once I got going. I thoroughly enjoyed the early kilometres. There was a lot of movement in the field, which I ignored. I told myself to be patient and run with good form. Approaching the turn, I was inspired to see my teammates Jason, Vince, Jen, Alan and Vanessa in rapid succession, all inbound and looking strong. Soon I made the turn too.

The rising sun was welcome, but it was also low and bright in the sky. I found that to be slightly disorienting. Checking my watch, I was shocked to see that my pace had increased, and was faster than 5:00/kilometre. This had not happened since before my strokes in 2017! However, I was still feeling good. I decided to go with my gut and stop looking at my watch.

Only when I reached the onramp to the 14 St Bridge did I feel my pace falter. I put aside thoughts of finish time by focusing on picking off a few runners who were struggling more than me.

The straight on 9th Ave SW was in bright sunshine, and I was happy to see Deborah just as I crossed the line. She has continued to recover well from hip replacement surgery in August. It was awesome to have her join me at the race.

When I caught up with the rest of the crew, everyone was very satisfied with their race. And why not? Adrenaline Rush runners owned the age group podiums in the 8k. I’d learn later that the same was true in the half marathon, where teammates Wayne and Alistair also secured podium spots. Way to go, team!

I had expected to run somewhere between 42 and 44 minutes, so my chip time of 40:20 was off the charts. What’s more, I was fortunate to finish first in my M65-69 age group; a pleasant surprise. Later that afternoon, as we enjoyed my Doughnut Party treat — that was a two-person, or maybe a half marathon, donut — I tried to process what this result means for me. I’m not sure how to explain it, or what to do next. I assumed I was long since at equilibrium as to my stroke recovery. I suppose this is a good problem to have. For now, I’m treating it as a brilliant, and unexpected, one-off.

As always, I am thankful to be part of such a fantastic group of athletes, led by Coach Janice. I appreciate their support and encouragement, every time I run with them. Thanks also to our teammate Gord, for his support on race morning and his excellent photos!

As a final point, I’m happy to report that RunCalgary has continued to host a top-notch race, in the tradition of this excellent event.

Some AI Magic

I opened this piece with an old race photo. I sent the picture to my friend Phil for a laugh. Phil is very creative, and he enjoys photo editing. Lately, he’s been dabbling with AI. He suggested that my memories of that day may have been inaccurate — he thinks the crowd may have been much larger. He sent me this photo to prove it:

As I might like to remember things, courtesy of Phil

The thought of Phil’s alternate reality boosted my spirits at the 6k mark of the CPC race, just when I needed it most. That said, the crowds along Memorial Drive were quite large and boisterous. It added a little extra to what was already a memorable morning.

Maybe a piece on the pros and cons of AI is a topic best left for another time. Until then, be well, and BE FAST!

The Solo Workout

I stand at the railing of the empty grandstand. Sunlight glints off metal bleachers. I look out over the broad, blue expanse—featureless, if not for the sun, still low and benign at this hour.

Below me is the track, in brilliant blue to mimic the sky. Four hundred metres of geometric precision. Monumental, even when dwarfed by the sky above it. But not today. Today, the track is an old friend.

I study the familiar painted lines—patterns of white that mark hallowed ground. They reduce the complex world into eight simple ovals. Here and there, marks of yellow, red and green; arrows and distance markers; ready for an unknown future contest.

Stepping onto the pebbled surface, I begin the slow build into a crescendo of physical effort. Pattern is distilled to instinct after decades of repetition. The routine is part drama, part choreography—warmup to workout to cooldown.

I ease into it, clearing the rust, trusting the movement. Strides, leg swings. Then I find the instructions, scribbled on a scrap of paper and tucked into the pocket of my shorts. One last check to memorize today’s variation, a new puzzle to solve. My only teammate is a Timex Ironman, its buttons worn nearly unreadable after so many sessions, so many seasons.

I take a sip of water, then step to the mark and go. I visualize ideal form and accept that I will fall short. Stay tight to the lane marker, feel the synthetic surface compress under my stride. Use the watch to find the pace, then hold it. One more repeat, then another, until the set is done.

Anticipation builds with each slow walk to the line. As ever, the quick rhythmic beat of my stride takes over—the surest antidote to pain and the only way to silence the inner critic. I count the 400s down. Four, three, two. Only one to go.

Next, the 200s. Notch the pace up once more. Fighting against fatigue, I tell myself to drive my tired arms to lead my legs. Ignore the burning in my calves. Let the building lactic acid be the reward for my effort.

Passing the steeplechase pit one last time, the workout resolves to the finish straight. One hundred metres. I straighten my form, look for the line and cross it with purpose.

It’s done—I’m done. Sweaty hands on still-quaking knees. Slowly, my head clears. My breath and heart rate settle into a quieter rhythm.

I look down at my trusty Asics—stationary for now—and I notice a hole, forming in the usual spot. The white lane lines curving away beneath me are the clouds absent from this morning’s brilliant sky.

Track and sky merge into one. I’m totally alone. The only sound, the hollow slap of a tennis ball against a distant wall, echoes my heartbeat.

With my mind as clear as the sky, my cooldown jog becomes a victory lap. Never mind that the grandstand is empty. The track is all mine. Not ready yet to leave this place, I jog another lap, then walk one more. The rising sun, warm on my face, is a gentle reminder from the world beyond.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Marathoning: Good, Bad and Ugly

Late April and early May are a wonderful time for fans of marathon running. As I do every year, I followed the latest news from Boston and London, home to the world’s most famous marathons. The 2026 races brought some notable headlines, including a new course record by John Korir in Boston and a remarkable but hardly unexpected result, as Sebastian Sawe convincingly broke the 2-hour barrier in London.

But as has happened for several years, I was left with mixed feelings, especially reading some of the online chatter after these two premier races. I decided to let things sit for a while, before putting my concerns into words. Since this is my blog, I will go ahead and share my opinions on the state of the sport. I’m interested in any reader comments, especially if you have a different take on this subject.

Celebrating the good

I’ll start by reiterating my opinion that athletics (and specifically, running) is the greatest of all the sports. Competitive running has been at the core of my existence for most of my life, and I remain captivated by a sport with such rich history, diverse personalities, infinite challenge, and tangible benefits.

Because running confers countless benefits, I’m thrilled whenever I see people taking up the sport, no matter their circumstances. I encourage anyone who is curious about running to take it up, with an open mind. If they choose to take the step into competitive running, so much the better.

Apparently many people are doing just that—it was announced this week that entry applications for the 2027 London Marathon exceeded 1.3 million. This is more than twice the figure for the 2024 race. The odds of being selected in the lottery are slim—now only about 1 in 100. And it’s not just London that is seeing dramatic growth. I haven’t done a detailed analysis, but big city marathons and many other races are filling up fast. It’s a worldwide phenomenon.

Higher participation in running is a very good thing. Running races, whatever the distance, is a worthy objective, and it will pay dividends for individuals and society as a whole. Here’s a quote from the foreword of my book, Stroke of Luck, as written by Dr. Michael Hill—he’s one of my heroes at the Foothills Stroke Unit. His words should inspire us all:

“If Steve’s book can inspire others both before and after illness to pursue a more active life, then it will have achieved a key purpose. If it can also inspire builders and planners and engineers to build environments, indoor and outdoor, that promote that physical activity, then whole groups and neighbourhoods will benefit. If it can inspire political leaders to imagine a society where these environments are protected, encouraged and nourished, then an entire nation can thrive.”

– Michael D Hill, OC MD MSc FRCPC FRCS

This coming weekend will be Calgary’s time to celebrate running, with the 62nd Calgary Marathon. I’ll take up my usual spot on 14 Street SW, around the 15k mark, camera in hand, to watch the action. Look for pictures on my Instagram shortly after the race!

Acknowledging the not-so-good

Notice that I didn’t say “finishing a marathon” is a very good thing. On balance, it usually is, but it’s on this point that I will add some cautionary words. Committing to a marathon takes extraordinary dedication, and finishing one is always a major accomplishment, especially for those who do so as amateurs.

The real question is, why have runners come to see the marathon as a measure of their status? It’s complicated. Running has become big business. There’s a subculture around races that is undeniably elitist, characterized by high entry barriers (and fees to match), international travel and expensive equipment.

It even involves fashion and jewelry (think blingy finisher’s medals). The flashy medals from this year’s Boston Marathon (pictured at left) are already selling on eBay for $500 US. While this may suggest greater recognition of the value of the sport, it also points to what I see as a major threat—commercialism.

Commercialism has led to myths and misconceptions, mainly among new runners. There’s the “real runner” myth. There are fractures in the running community, along the lines of which races one has done or not done. In my view, this puts pressure on runners to prove they belong. What nonsense! If you run, you are a runner. It’s not for anyone to dictate to someone else which races they should run, let alone races with the peculiar distance of 42.195 kilometres.

Then there’s the “holy grail” myth. This is an unfortunate result of the higher demand for race entries. Increasing demand for something unique and in short supply—like a race bib for the Boston Marathon—will increase its value. Route 135 between Hopkinton and Boylston Street has become sacred ground, and the pressure to get there can be overwhelming. Aspiring runners will chase any idea to improve their odds: the latest shoe, the best nutritional supplements; the latest training plans.

I ask, what happened to just enjoying running for its own sake? I think we’ve let our competitive nature—the human need to strive, to achieve, and then to recognize our achievements—overtake our common sense. Even small, local races now have large, shiny finisher’s medals.

I put some of the blame on the Abbott World Marathon Majors, a series that has turned marathoning into a medal treasure hunt. I concede that the Abbott Majors has had some beneficial impact, by increasing awareness and interest in marathon running. Fortunately, it’s also spawned trends like the boom in trail running and the minimalist Parkrun.

What are the Abbott World Marathon Majors?

Starting in the mid-2000s, five big city marathons (Boston, New York, Chicago, London and Berlin) got together, and declared that they had special status owing to their size and reputation amongst runners. The World Marathon Majors was born. It was a novel idea. At the time it was almost certainly true.

Some years later, Abbott entered the picture, recognizing that an annual marathon series was a novel marketing opportunity. Their goal was to foster elite competition, but it quickly morphed into an enticement to average runners.

Not surprisingly, the Abbott series has grown—Tokyo was added as the sixth major in 2012, then Sydney in 2024. More majors are coming, and Cape Town (eight) and Shanghai (nine) are next.

And the ugly

If your circumstances allow you to travel the world, to always own the latest carbon-plated supershoe, to enter and train and compete in marathons in some of the leading cities of the world—go right ahead. I hope people who are on this path are there for good and valid reasons.

But what if you can’t manage it? What if the wear and tear on your body from even one marathon is too much? What if wearing the same $500 superlight shoe that Sawe wore to set his record is actually hurting you? Here’s where the problems start.

Anyone who commits to a marathon—or any race—should do so because they intend to compete. That is easier said than done. If you are happier running your local Parkrun or 10k, with no consideration of your pace, wearing ordinary running shoes, then that’s what you should do. You’ll be better off in the long run.

The worst consequences of this pressure are becoming clear. There’s cheating aimed at securing valuable race entries—runners who will do anything to secure a Boston Qualifier, a BQ. Reports of bib swapping, course cutting and “bib mules” are now fairly common.

I’ll also note the significant environmental toll from “marathon tourism”, as people fly around the world to compete in marquee races, when there are so many other events closer to home. Some would downplay the seriousness of these issues, but I don’t. How valuable is a finisher’s medal if it wasn’t earned fairly?

Finally, I’ll mention the so-called running influencers, whose interest in Boston, New York or London seems to be in checking these races off a list. They use their online platform to bring their followers along with them. It’s the marathoning equivalent of snapping a selfie at the Eiffel Tower and the Grand Canyon.

What happens next? Look to Boston

I think explosive growth in demand is eroding some of the goodwill that exists around a sport fundamentally based on fitness. Even Boston, the premier marathon in the world, has become the focus of online angst. Why? For the very reason that it is so prestigious. Boston is the race with the most challenging entry criteria—a BQ is coveted more than any other credential in the marathoning world. For decades, Boston has simply been out of reach for many runners, even serious competitive runners. With limited exceptions for charity spots, if you weren’t fast enough, you couldn’t get in.

Interestingly, I see this feature putting Boston into a position of conflict with the other Abbott races. Clearly, a runner can’t complete their six-star commitment unless they can run Boston. So, isn’t it structurally unfair to those runners for the BAA to enforce Boston’s traditionally stringent entry standards?

I say NO, for one simple reason: Entry to Boston is a privilege, not a right.

I’d hate to see Boston’s status as the world’s leading marathon diluted to satisfy essentially infinite demand for entries. In fact, I see the BAA facing an imminent dilemma—stick to their principles (limiting entries as much as necessary to put on a world-leading event) or find a way to accommodate the call on entries by non-qualifying Abbott runners. If it comes to this, there can be only one answer. I’m optimistic that the BAA will do the right thing, and I’m sure Boston would do just fine alongside and apart from the Abbott series. If that means some incomplete six-star medals, so be it.

The final word

The sport of marathoning is thriving, and I’m confident it will get past its current challenges. For those who enjoy running for its own sake, my advice will never change—find your own way in the sport. If that happens to include marathons, that’s awesome. I wish you great success. Just don’t let anyone dictate what races you must run, or that you must race at all. Remember, if you run, you are a runner, and you can be content with that.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

On Running Streaks

A running streak is pretty much what it sounds like—run every day until you can’t. And while it’s up to each runner to set their own parameters, the Streak Runners International, Inc. and the United States Running Streak Association, Inc. (yes, there is a governing body for this activity) have set out some helpful guidelines. Here’s a quote from the SRI/USRSA website:

The official definition of a running streak, as adopted by the Streak Runners International, Inc., and United States Running Streak Association, Inc., is to run at least one mile (1.61 kilometers) within each calendar day. Running may occur on either the roads, a track, over hill and dale, or on a treadmill.

-SRI/USRSA website

So that’s it. Sounds simple enough, right? The longest active run streak, as reported recently in Canadian Running, belongs to Jim Pearson of Marysville, WA. As of September 24, 2025, he has run for 20,310 consecutive days. Over that time—more than 55 years—Pearson has run 305,000 kilometres. Now that’s impressive!

Is a running streak a good idea?

As I wrote in my memoir, Stroke of Luck, I’ve never bought into the idea that runners, even highly competitive runners, need to run every day. Of course, regular exercise is hugely beneficial, and running streaks are as consistent as you can get. So, the routine of getting out the door every day will pay dividends in overall health and cardiovascular fitness. From my own experience, regular running seems to increase resistance to seasonal bugs. It may reduce susceptibility to injuries (or it may not). And perhaps most important—streaking instills a feeling of mental toughness, given all the challenges that must be overcome to keep one going.

But there are downsides. The most obvious is that sometimes, when we are injured or feeling under the weather, the best thing we should do is rest. Forcing ourselves out the door, just to check a box and continue a streak, may be making a bad situation worse.

Although streaks aren’t really my thing, I will admit to a certain fascination with runners who can and do carry on long streaks. My brother Paul completed a decades-long streak, as did my old running partner in Calgary, Rick Webb. Rick used to regale me with stories about how he kept his streak alive. One of my heroes is the late Ron Hill, a fascinating man, a legendary runner, and a running streaker. I wrote this in Stroke of Luck:

“… I appreciate what it takes to carry on a running streak. I have known a number of streakers through the years. This evolutionary branch of the running population is an eccentric lot. Most serious runners of the last few decades would have heard of Ron Hill, the great British marathoner and Olympian, whose 52-year streak—which ended in 2017—is legendary. To running streakers, Ron Hill is a patron saint, a person who is universally admired and spoken of with great reverence. He died in 2021.”

Strides Run Streak, 2025 edition

With that background, there should be no surprise that I’ve once again taken on the challenge of the annual Strides Run Streak (SRS). The challenge is simple: run at least one mile every day in December. Kudos to Jeremy and his team at Strides for giving us a manageable goal, one that will help keep us motivated over the holidays.

I’ve been a regular participant in the SRS. In fact, there is a connection between the SRS and my stroke story, which goes all the way back to 2012. I explained in Stroke of Luck how I extended the 2012 streak from a month-long event into one that lasted more than four years. This became my longest personal running streak, even though it paled in comparison to Hill or Pearson. I joked in the book that I might be able to make a case to the RSI/USRSA for the most interesting END to a running streak.

I’ll leave my story there, but if you’d like to know how things turned out, why not get a copy of my book? In doing so, you’ll be supporting a great cause—the stroke unit at the Foothills Medical Centre in Calgary. The book would be a great gift for the runner on your Christmas list!

Now, as some of my followers on Strava will know, I give myself the added challenge of finding a worthy photo while I’m completing my daily run. Sometimes that is a bigger test than the running part, particularly with the days getting shorter and winter setting in. There aren’t many great photos taken on a treadmill!

So far in 2025, my commitment is strong, and the weather has been agreeable. There are a few hurdles, mostly a nagging soreness in my right Achilles tendon. Fortunately, that seems to loosen up after a couple of kilometres. Worse for me is that my training partner is still sidelined with a sore hip. That means my running is mostly solo.

Enough words. Here are some images from the 2025 SRS, which started while we were in Toronto. It’s obviously a work in progress, and I hope to send out another batch of pictures by month-end:

Copyright for all images is mine.

While it’s always nice to capture the festive spirit, I don’t consider it essential. As I’ve said before, my goal is to find images that transport me back to that time and place. I like visiting different neighbourhoods during the month. For me, a good photo run is thrilling; a way of adding meaning to my runs. It doesn’t replace the excitement of competition in a road race, but it’s sure better than nothing. And while there are no governing bodies for photo runs, I can recommend the Ricoh GR III—portable, capable, and durable. It’s been a constant companion on my outings.

Wrapping Up

I hope you’re finding your own source of motivation at this time of year. While it’s easy to avoid going outside, especially when the temperature is -18c, as it is in Calgary today, I always feel better for having made the effort. So, whether it’s a month-long run streak, a walk with your dog, or a jog on a treadmill, I highly recommend a daily dose of activity. Having a camera with me is a reminder to keep things informal, and if I’m lucky, I’ll come home with a memento of the day.

Happy Holidays! And until next time, be well and BE FAST…

Book Review: “Today We Die A Little”

Today We Die a Little: Emil Zatopek, Olympic Legend to Cold War Hero, by British journalist and author Richard Askwith, tells the fascinating story of the great Czech runner, Emil Zatopek.

Zatopek was an enigma. His life paralleled his country’s history and is intertwined with the Second World War and the rise and fall of the Soviet Union. Askwith did a thorough job of researching his subject.

The Czech Locomotive

Today, if people know anything about Zatopek, it’s likely because of his ungainly running style. Videos of his great performances are easily found, and worth a look. But his rolling head, flailing arms and gnashing teeth may be the least interesting part of his story.

Emil was a true sportsman. His nickname comes from a front-running style that left his competitors strung out behind him. He befriended those same runners and maintained contact with them well into old age. His training techniques were unorthodox. For instance, he was known to train in army boots, or in deep snow. Any of us who have done interval workouts can thank Zatopek—he may have invented 400m repeats. The difference? He did 60, 80, even 100 of them—every day.

Emil Zatopek, giving it his all (Photo: Roger Rössing, Deutsche Fotothek)

There are so many anecdotes about Zatopek that it’s nearly impossible to separate fact from fiction. I give Askwith credit for trying. Some things are undisputed. Emil taught himself 8 or 9 languages by reading dictionaries. He and his wife, Dana, won four gold medals at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics—a count that was second only to the US. Emil won the 5000m, 10000m and marathon, a record likely never to be repeated. Dana won the women’s javelin competition.

Socialist icon or misunderstood hero?

Zatopek may have been the most famous athlete in the world in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Few could match his talent and charisma—he was the Muhammad Ali of his generation. Even after his competitors copied his tactics and started surpassing him, he remained a national hero. It seemed everyone wanted to meet him and feel the warmth of his personality.

The story that best demonstrates Zatopek’s generosity has him handing a small package to Australian runner Ron Clarke after Clarke visited Emil in Prague in 1966. Clarke competed at a high level internationally but had always come up empty-handed. Zatopek was the perfect host, readily sharing his training advice. Clarke assumed Zatopek had given him something he wanted smuggled out of the Iron Curtain. In fact, it was one of Zatopek’s 1952 Olympic gold medals. “Because you deserve it,” read the inscription.

Despite the constraints imposed by the Czech regime, Zatopek travelled the world. In fact, he became a sort of role model for socialist ideals. And it’s here where his story gets a bit hazy. Depending on who one believes, Zatopek was either a naive pawn of the regime or a committed agent. He was an officer in the Czech army, so it’s hard to totally accept the former view. However, he had managed to tread a fine line for a long time, apparently avoiding any suspicion of his commitment just by being his gregarious self. Or perhaps by mouthing the words that were expected of him.

Some things may never be known about Zatopek, but it is clear he believed in the concept of socialism. After all, it was how he had tried to live. When Soviet tanks moved in to crush the Prague Spring in 1968, he spoke up for compromise, possibly hoping his celebrity would save him from retribution. Soon after, he was expelled from the army, stripped of his status as a sporting hero, and exiled to years of manual labour in remote work camps. Through it all, he maintained a positive attitude. He was a broken man when he was finally allowed to return to his modest home. Then he suffered several strokes and was all but forgotten when he died in 2000.

Lessons far beyond the track

Askwith is sympathetic to Zatopek, and I found that his enthusiasm for the man sometimes clouds his judgment. If Askwith is to be faulted, it is for trying too hard. I came to accept Askwith’s case—that there is reason to doubt the worst accusations against Zatopek—but I found it unnecessary that he keep making it.

As for Zatopek, there is no reason to fault him for his eccentricities. He was an intelligent, independent and humble man. I found myself wondering how any of us would have managed in his situation; if our homeland had been first taken by the Nazis, then by the Communists. Zatopek lived and competed bravely, and left us lessons that apply beyond the realm of amateur competition.

The “Czech Locomotive” was a complex figure, a great athlete, and a gentleman. Askwith’s book is an homage to Zatopek, and there is much to commend it, not least so the reader can decide for themselves how they view the man. I started the book and put it aside for a while. When I persevered, I was rewarded with a complete picture of an astonishing athlete. It’s a worthwhile read.

By the way, the title of the book comes from the comment Zatopek made to his fellow competitors on the start line of the 1956 Olympic Marathon in Melbourne. By then, Zatopek was well past his best form. The day was brutally hot, and he made his remark just as the runners set off for what they all knew would be an extreme physical test. It was a noble gesture. Anyone who has set a challenging goal for themselves and worked hard to achieve it will relate to the sentiment.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Vancouver Marathon – 2015 to 2025

What follows is a story separated by exactly ten years—and a generation.

The Opening Act

The marathon was never my favourite distance, but over the decades of my amateur running career, I ran plenty of them. It was a love-hate thing. By 2014, I had sworn off marathons, and not for the first time. Then, I let myself be talked into signing up for the 2015 Vancouver race. I’ll leave the specifics of that part of the story for another time.

I had run the Vancouver Marathon once before, in 1993. I finished the race one minute on the wrong side of 3 hours, and I remember being quite disappointed. Why? Well, 1992 had been a year of personal bests. Naturally, I came into 1993 full of optimism. After the Vancouver race, I worried that I might have already peaked. And that was more than 30 years ago!

Heading into the 2015 race, I had been through a minor crisis of confidence. You see, I’d run a very poor Around the Bay Race in March 2014, and I was finding the preparation for a spring marathon during another of our nasty Calgary winters more than I could handle. All credit goes to my awesome training partners, Allison B and Ken S, who kept me going week in and week out. They deserve kudos for helping get me to the start line on May 3, 2015.

As for my race tactics, I had worked out a novel plan with coach Janice. The idea was to get me around the deceptively tough Vancouver course while avoiding the slow-motion crashes I’d experienced in some previous marathons. We decided on a series of four mid-race pickups, each 3k with a 1k easy recovery. Janice knew me well enough to realize that a series of tasks would help keep my mind from wandering.

I had modest expectations. I could foresee some challenges on the 2015 course—still in use today—which was very different from the route I’d run years before. The first ten kilometres were mostly downhill. There was the Burrard Bridge at 30k. Of course, there was the 42.2k distance to contend with.

Our race plan worked like a charm. The 3k pickups were effective, and I got to 38k before my quads seized up—no doubt the price to be paid for the early downhills. Being a veteran of four decades, I didn’t panic. Instead, I managed my effort over the last few kilometres. Afer all, it was only a few minutes until the finish. Worst case, I might be a little outside my target range.

I finished in 3:18:04. Not bad. My age-graded time was the same as my PB, set many years earlier. It was a satisfying outing, and a prelude to the eventful years that followed. Again, I’ll leave those details for another time.

Daniel Delivers!

Fast forward ten years… to the best part of this story.

By the spring of 2025, our son Daniel had been a serious runner for at least 12 years. He ran his first marathon in Montreal, in 2014. Even as a rookie he methodically attacked the distance. In the intervening years, he’s taken on many different running challenges. The last couple of years have been especially rewarding for him. He’s been honing his technique and working on strength, speed and flexibility. So, when he set his sights on the 2025 Vancouver race, it was with the goal of improving his PB… significantly.

All signs were positive during his training cycle, and a speedy 1:12 half marathon in April hinted at something special. He overcame a niggling overuse injury to make it to the start line in Queen Elizabeth Park on May 4, 2025.

Major marathons now feature online tracking for spectators. As a result, it was a nervous morning for Deborah and me, as we watched the little dot that represented Dan work its way around the course. It seemed that I was reliving every step with him, through Pacific Spirit Park and the UBC campus (where he reached the half in 1:15:44), then through Kitsilano, over the Burrard Bridge and into Stanley Park for a lap of the seawall.

Dan’s early splits were speedy, but by 30k he seemed to be slowing. Was there a problem? We could only watch and wait, holding our breath. Once he got to 40k in 2:27:16, everything was looking good for a superb finish. He brought it home in 2:35:52. By that point I was yelling encouragement at my phone. He placed 21st overall in a strong field of nearly 7,000 runners. Amazing!

Here are some pictures from his awe-inspiring run (all from Marathon Photos):

When we talked to him shortly after he finished, he was full of energy, relief and joy. He had been cheerleading with the crowds along the route. And his apparent slowdown? He had the presence of mind to ease off his pace slightly at 24k, to avoid aggravating his calf. Not only fast running but smart too!

It’s hard to find words to express what I’ve been feeling this week. Of course, I’m filled with awe and pride, as I consider what Dan has accomplished. Seeing my son reach a personal goal with determination and purpose makes me very happy. I know he earned this result—including the massive 15-minute improvement in his PB. Being a runner myself, I have a good idea how hard he worked for this. Running 2:35 puts him in the top 1 percent of marathon runners. I have often said he’s never set a foot wrong in his life, and that was perhaps never truer than in this race.

I wrote about the relative arc of our lives in Stroke of Luck, and while I may eventually think of something more profound to say, for now, I’m just relieved he finished and that he did so well. While I understand that a small part of this might be attributed to lessons he learned from me—from us—early in his life, this triumph is all his doing. If life were a relay race, I would be content knowing that the handoff has been made and the baton is safely headed to the finish.

And that might be an apt analogy, as the next challenge Dan will tackle is the annual Cabot Trail Relay on May 24, with a team called the Iron Lungs out of Toronto. He has run the race with them several times, and they (like us) know he will be a worthy addition to their squad.

We can’t wait to see what’s next for him.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!