My latest trip was up to Quebec Canada. It was absolutely beautiful. My intent on going was to run a marathon in a small town in northeast Quebec called Rimouski. This would be international marathon #4, over all marathon #6. It is a much smaller race, mostly local French Canadians, but it was listed as a beautiful flat course all along the St Lawrence River. 
The weather leading up to the race was beautiful fall weather. High's in the upper 50's, lows in the upper 40's, sunny, but cool. Absolutely perfect for running weather. I was so excited to be out of the awful 100 degree Texas heat and running in a perfect temperature. Then the Hurricane hit the east coast of the United Stated. It moved up the coast, hitting Nova Scotia pretty fast and hard. It hit that part of the country Saturday evening, making my Sunday race day a less than ideal running day. I wasn't expecting residual bad weather from a hurricane.
It was about 45 degrees, windy, and rained the entire race. I was damp and cold the whole time. My feet were wet from the get go, and I realized quickly I'm not acclimated to the cold like I used to be. I had hoped that the rain would stop, and once I got running I would warm up. Turns out it's hard to warm up when you are permanently damp. 
This was a down and back race. So you run 13.1 miles, then turn around and run back 13.1 miles. Running out wasn't bad with the wind and rain mostly at my back. The course was beautiful and hugged the water the whole way. 
I did the early start to make sure I had enough time on the course to finish. For the most part I ran the entire first half and felt great. Until I had to turn around and run back.
I ran into the wind and rain for the next 13.1 miles. Luckily it was a flat course, but the wind and rain certainly added some challenging resistance. As I only had shorts with me, my legs were ice cold and freezing. My face was pretty wind burned and freezing as well, but I finished. Always the main goal.
People were very nice the whole course. Medics rode up and down the course on bicycles, asking every time they passed if you were doing ok. No doubt they were also assessing everyone they rode past as well.
The water station volunteers were great too. Very encouraging, and offering all kinds of fruit and drinks to help keep you going.
The thing I love about runners is the comradery. It doesn't matter how fast or slow you are. If I passed someone, they gave me a thumbs up and encouraged me to keep going. If someone passed me, they did the same. Doesn't matter how elite or novice you are, runners always encourage runners. And I love it. It's about finishing the course. It was hard weather, we were all cold and sore, and all going through the same muscle pain and mental fatigue. (Unless of course you are one of those not completely human people who can run a marathon in 2 hours and look like you just took a nice stroll through the park). But the culture is the same - everyone wants everyone to succeed and finish.
The last three miles of the race is where I hit the proverbial wall. My legs hurt to run as they were too cold and stiff to bend. I could feel blisters on my wet feet every step I took, and the course felt like it was only getting longer instead of shorter. I was tired of everyone talking to me in French, I was cold, exhausted, and I just wanted to be finished so I could sit down. Everything hurt and I was so sick of being wet. I didn't quit, but I stopped trying to run and focused on walking one step at a time. There was also lots of cursing in my head.
About a half mile from the finish, a gentleman started walking with me toward the finish line. He had already finished the marathon, probably a few hours previously. But he was very kind and walked and talked with me about the race, how I was doing, and that I was almost done. He was very encouraging, and agreed that it had been a hard day. He pushed me to run the last bit of the race, and a few feet from the finish line stopped to let me finish, yelled out a congratulations, and walked back along the course to help someone else come in. While I didn't necessarily need someone to walk with me to the finish line that was staring at me in the distance, I still appreciated his genuine kindness of encouraging me to keep going. That last leg of a race is always the hardest and longest part.
Again, I love this selfless running culture. It's about finishing. My dad said there were a few other finishers who would go back along the course and walk/run with someone who was still trying to finish. Why can't this be a code for all aspects of life? Encouraging and helping others to finish and succeed in life?
I crossed the finish line and got my medal. They had a full hot lunch for all those participants which was wonderful. Anything hot was definitely appreciated. By the time I was done eating, how cold I was finally caught up to me. I couldn't stop shivering and my teeth chattered painfully. I was also pretty blue in the face. But I have another medal to add to my board.
My goal for this race was to finish in less than 6 hours. And I finished in less than 6 hours. I then proceeded to take a very long, painfully hot shower, and then a nice long nap. I was unbelievable sore and stiff after this race. Much more than I have in a long time after a marathon. It took a few very painful days to finally get the soreness walked off, but I'm finally back to normal.My next marathon. Sigh. Honestly, there are a lot of marathons out there that I would love to do. But I don't know that I physically have it in me to keep going much longer. My body is wearing out, training takes so much time and energy, and I just don't know that I have it in my to do many more. I may have one more race in me, but I won't think about that for another month or so. IF I decide to torture myself once again, it will of course be an amazing international race. What's the point of torturing yourself if it isn't in an amazing location?
