No amount of training could have prepared me for the heat and humidity, even for a run that started at 5 a.m.!

I will never forget the sound of the roosters crowing from the darkness of the backstreets near the race route, or how drenched I was one kilometre into the run. Oppressive heat. A wall of humidity. As I hit the 10-kilometre mark well-off my goal pace, with the air seeming even thicker, and with the diesel fuel fumes from buses making me nauseous, I thought about the shame I would feel if I couldn’t make it, and what a let down it would be to the people who sponsored me more than $11,000. I needed to get stronger. The mind games began: “You have run farther than this before … You are almost half way there … Looking strong.”

It worked. I picked up my pace, but still stopped at each and every water station and consumed two full cups each time. At 7 a.m., two hours into the run, the sun was surprisingly high in the sky, hot and searing and making my head pound. Who knew I should have worn a hat and sun screen for a run that started in the pitch black of pre-dawn?

The most humbling moment of the run happened less than one kilometre away from the finish line. I could hear the din of the cheering supporters and I somehow willed my feet to move quicker, as my movements morphed from a near shuffle into something resembling a run. I was suddenly aware of lots of breathing and very fast feet approaching me from behind and found myself in the midst of a pack of elite marathon, with runners from Kenya, St. Lucia and Barbados. While I was struggling to finish the run in under two-and-a-half hours for my 13.1-mile half-marathon, they were looking at the same time for 26.2 miles!

But of course many of the people now lining the streets of Bridgetown had no idea that I was not running the full marathon. So as the human gazelles shot past me, a Bajan gentleman at the side of the road cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered “RUN FAT MAN”!

He actually thought the big pasty white guy from Canada was giving these elite hot climate athletes a run for their money. With what little strength I had left, I laughed out loud and pretty much giggled all the way to the finish line.

Yes, I need to lose a few pounds, but fat is a relative word when one is being compared to Kenyan marathoners!

I finished the race in two hours and 26 minutes, nowhere near what I used to run halfs in, but that was more than a decade and 30 pounds ago. Considering the heat, I was kind of proud.

I sat down for 15 minutes, and ate a granola bar and downed Powerade and returned to the finish line to watch and cheer others coming in especially people from The Joints in Motion Team. Talk about emotional to watch. So many stories. There was my new friend Rakan running in his first full-marathon for his mom whose hands are swollen with arthritis.

The Crawfords, Joan and Bill from Clinton, Ont., both with double knee replacements, yet they walked the entire half-marathon distance in the Barbados heat; and Kimberly from Nova Scotia, so stricken with arthritis at one point in her life, prior to medication, that she was told she would end up in a wheel chair and never have children. Now a mother of two, this driven woman trudged along the half marathon route as well.

There were many other inspiring stories of people living with the pain and discomfort of arthritis overcoming unbelievable obstacles.

For those who sponsored me on my mission with the Joints in Motion team to run the Barbados Half Marathon and to raise both money and awareness for the Arthritis Society, please accept my heartfelt thanks. Your generosity has made a difference and will not be forgotten.

I have to admit, I am pretty nervous about running this distance in a hot climate, but I have a least covered the 20.1 kilometres once in the final month leading up to the run. So I know I can do it. I am proud to say I am heading to Barbados with the Arthritis Society’s Joints In Motion team having successfully reached and passed my fundraising goal of $10,680.

I remember the trepidation with which I revised my goal from $6,800 to $10, 680. I started to have my doubts in this economic climate. The last thing I wanted to do was head south to the race having FAILED to reach my goal! There were times when the donations started to slow to a trickle and I feared I had over-reached.

On Thursday, Nov. 5, 680News listener Kathi Amos did the math and donated $928.20 helping me hit the goal right on the nose, and still some donations are coming in. Thanks to Kathi, and to each and every one of you who have donated hard earned dollars to my Joints In Motion journey.

I hope I have helped raised attention for the need to find a cure and improved treatments for arthritis.    There are so many worthy causes to which one can contribute, but it sure does break your heart to watch people in pain no longer able to do things they love — never mind a run, but a walk outside with a beloved dog or simple chores around the house.

I am really looking forward meeting other members of the Joints in Motion Team at the airport and hearing their stories about training and fundraising. I hope to blog about the run as soon as possible. But first, there might be a cold beer or two to be savoured.

But it’s not just the weather that pushes me onto the hamster wheel. Ultimately, it is my excuse, but ironically, it’s boredom. Yes, I actually find running inside more interesting than the great outdoors. I’m talking about long runs here, when you have  to run for more than 45 minutes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m into nature and I love running through parks and wooded areas on a crisp autumn morning in the sunshine as much as any runner. At my club, the treadmills all  have TV monitors. Could there be a better way to hammer off 20 kilometres and not feel the time, than by doing it while watching the Vikings and the Steelers? My kids are dismayed that I don’t run with an iPod. I know research shows music can help maximize your result while minimizing your feeling of exhaustion, but I have always been an information junkie. So when I hit the pavement, I strap my AM/FM radio to my arm and seek out news and talk. One Sunday the weather was so nice, I couldn’t justify running inside on the treadmill, so I launched out on my long run listening first to a couple of newscasts on 680, and then  flipping over to listen to “Cross Canada Checkup.” I am a fan of the show and of Rex Murphy, but sometimes the topics are hit and miss. This week’s question from Rex to his panelists and audience was, for me, a miss: “Should euthanasia be legal in Canada”? Talk about a downer! No maximized output here. That kind of talk doesn’t exactly put a spring in your step! At least if I were on the treadmill, I could watch some football!

Treadmills are also closer to washrooms. Yes, the modern convenience of plumbing when nature calls is certainly another reason to praise the treadmill. Any distance runner knows it is not a good idea to go to a costume party dressed as Elvis, live large like Elvis, drink copious amounts of Guinness and then go for a long run the next day. (Long distance runner’s tip: Hospital lobby washrooms are much cleaner than gas station washrooms.)

Treadmills are also safer. Too many maniac drivers, especially when they are making a right turn onto a busy street, are so busy looking left for oncomng traffic that they don’t look right to see what might be coming on foot, namely me! I once even had a passenger wave me to go ahead as his driver stepped on the gas. The passenger saw me, but he forgot to tell the driver! My rule is eye contact with the driver or don’t go.

It is easier to quit a run early if you are on the treadmill. You hit the stop button. Get off. Drive home. Not a good thing if you are simply feeling lazy, but if you are injured or feeling sick or too much like fat Elvis the morning after a bender, it sure does help. Nothing worse than being 10 kilometres into a a 20-K run and having your knee give out. You are pretty much scuppered, unless of course you have quarters to call your loved one for a lift (if you can find a payphone), a token for the bus, or twenty bucks for a cab (I run with all of the aforementioned). I also run with a piece of paper that has my name, emergency contact and OHIP number. Gee, I wonder what’s on the treadmill TV today?

“Hey Dad, you were really ‘chugging’ along there.”

That less-than-flattering observation came from my 16-year-old son after he and a pal observed me running laps at a track.   

“Chugging” is only a good word for college sophomores, not middle-age distance runners!

A parent of a friend of my 12-year-old son, commented that he saw me running the other day while he was driving and that it looked as though I must have been finishing up from a long run because I looked ‘really’ exhausted.

I was too embarrassed to admit I was only ten minutes into my run!

The trainer who  I am using for 30 minutes a week to make sure I am “chugging” on course, sarcastically asked if I was planning to do a sub four-hour half marathon.(My goal is a sub two-and-a-half). It was his tough love approach to get me more committed to dieting and stretching.  

I can certainly put in the kilometres but loathe calorie-counting and the tedium of stetching. Unlike when I was younger cardio alone is not enough.  

What can I say, the not-so-flattering comments have sunk in, along with the words of encouragement of course. Adrian the trainer challenged me to “make a choice.”

That was a couple of weeks ago. 

I now feel sort of like the eternal quitter sporting a middle-aged paunch, who under goes a fitness reincarnation, in the British romantic comedy “Run Fat Boy Run” played by Simon Pegg. I too  have arrived at my turning point. I have sworn off beer and dessert (until after the half marathon). The pounds are finally coming off, and although it bores me to death, I am finally stretching (but only while watching TV)!

This half marathon will NOT be a four-hour “chug!”

Donations soared past the $5,000 mark within the first week, putting me within easy striking distance of my goal. But with a full 14 weeks before race day, it hit me that I should aim higher. So I did, and now I am at $10,680. Yikes! The donations are still coming in, but not at the rate of the first week. 

I am now more inspired than ever to run this race. Yes, seeing the sponsorship total rise helps, but what really makes me suck it up and not complain as much about my achy knees after a long run, are the comments from donors. 

From a colleague at the radio station: “My rebuilt left hip knew a little about arthritis.”

From another donor: “We’re with you Paul. Perhaps some of the research could focus on my fingers, hands and toes.”

From a guy I curl against (usually lose to him as well!): ”As someone who has been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, I know how important this effort is and I applaud you for doing it.”

How can I not be inspired?

Of course the fact the run is in Barbados is not lost on some donors. I have had offers from people to be my official photographer or trainer, along with some good natured ribbing:

“Good luck on your race in Barbados. That will cure anyone’s arthritis!”

“You better finish the race and not just sit down there drinking mojitos!”

My favourite words of encouragement are from a guy I play croquet with. He also happens to be an incredibly fit swimmer, tennis player and runner. He is older than I am and I would consider myself lucky to be as fit as he is when I am his age: “Have a good run for a worthy cause. Start slow with a steady pace and finish with a smile.”
 
I will finish with a smile thanks to all of you who have made a donation to help conquer an affliction that I am learning everyday affects more and more people. I am grateful for your support and for the kind words.

Sometimes the simpler the better: “Rock it out, Yo!”

The Running Room lays out how much I need to train in order to finish the half-marathon in my goal time. It also offers tips and provides a daily journal to input my workout for the day. I originally was shooting for a sub two hour half-marathon, but once again my much saner wife staged an intervention. You might recall in a previous blog I mentioned the Goddess gently suggested I not set myself up for failure and run a half-marathon, instead of the full ones I used to run in my 30s. So now, Stephie has talked me into shooting for somewhere between two hours and 15 minutes and two hours and a half. I am now 14 weeks away from half-marathon day. I definately have things in motion.

My Joints in Motion site allows me to send fundraising emails to everyone in my address book — family, friends, work colleagues, fellow curlers and croquet players, parents of my kid’s friends and teammates,   you get the picture. My dog has friends too, but I don’t know the owner’s names,  just their dog’s, so I can’t e-mail them. Since 680News is my employer and everyone supports my fundraising quest, I figured $6,800 would be the perfect number to shoot for as I appeal to listeners on our airwaves to pitch in. The best scenario is if you sign up to join me in Barbados and raise your own funds. The next option is to sign up for another one of the fabulous Joints in Motion  fundraising adventures down the road. Failing either of those options, I would truly appreciate it if you would sponsor me. I am honored to have been asked to raise funds to find a cure for this disease that robs so many people of the joy of participating in activities they love. I know dollars are tight these days, but if  you can spare even a small donation it WILL make a difference. So now that I have you reading my blog, the next step is to get you over to my “participant profile” on the  Arthritis Society website to make a donation.

All you need to do is click on the link right here beside my blog.

I look forward to watching the  donations ‘thermometer’  grow with your wonderful generosity!

Thanks for helping me reach my Joints in Motion ‘fundraising guarantee!’ 

-Paul

It just feels sort of selfish. When they were really little I would just toss them into the Baby Jogger (a glorified stroller with bicycle-style tires that yuppies pay way too much for) and strap them in with a juice box and gold fish crackers.

That was a long time ago. Now there are four kids in our house ranging in age from 12 to 16.

Unless that baby jogger is equiped with a DVD player and internet service, forget about it! So I was pleasantly surprised when all four declared they wanted to join me as I set out for a run up the cottage road.

After the first five minutes the youngest two dropped back off the pace. I found myself burning energy constantly looking backwards to make sure they were okay. At ten minutes in, the skies opened and absolutely soaked us.

But we kept going. I mistakenly believed that the rest of the family members back at the cottage would worry about us and drive out to pick us up. No such luck. Torrential downpours and thunder claps don’t constitute a run intervention. Only lightning, and there was none.

Twenty minutes later we were on the home stretch. The 15-year-old had fallen back with the two younger siblings. I started to pick up the pace. It occurred to me that the 16-year-old had now pretty much surpassed me in all sports except curling and croquet, oldster sports as he calls them, so I felt kind of proud that the so called oldster was leading the charge and setting the pace for the run. My legs were pumping, the endorphins had kicked in, I was king of the cottage road! I think the boy would have been quite content to cross the threshold of the cottage property stride for stride with his dad. But the competative juices were flowing. With about 100 metres to go, I just had to say “race you to the finish! ”

The boy took a quick sideways look at me as if to say “Really?” But not like a question but in that sarcastic way that today’s kids use the word as in “don’t be stupid.”

Suddenly I was Wile E. Coyote and he was the Road Runner and with a “meep meep” he was gone like a shot leaving me in his dust. As I arrived at the cottage he was laughing and I was gasping. Good thing he will be in school in early December and can’t join me in the half marathon I’m running in Barbados with the Arthritis Society’s Joints in Motion team.

But for the next run at the cottage, the 16-year-old goes back in the Baby Jogger!

But there are other considerations -  I call them the Four B’s:  Baileys. Butter tarts.  Beer and…….bears. I find it incredibly tough to take my rat-race fitness regimen to the cottage. People talk about packing on the pounds in the winter.  For me, the summer is the biggest challenge. You see, whenever we are at the cottage we really kick back, whether it’s a two-week vacation to the summer home my grandfather built in the 50s seven hours north of here,  or a weekend escape at the Goddess’ ancestral lakefront oasis less than two hours northeast of the city. The traps begin as soon as you wake up at the crack of 10 a.m. How can you refuse a coffee on the dock with a shot of Bailey’s? Then there are those “world famous”  butter tarts from the local bakery to tide you over until brunch, where Bloody Caears abound.  How do you say no to that?   Not easily when the gangs all around, and they usually are at  the cottage.  That’s why cottaging is so much fun.

If the sun is shining, and the lake is calm, cans of beer in a cooler of crushed ice are  also impossible to resist. Suddenly the only running is from the dock to the cottage for a feed of  chips and dip. Not good. 

 So now that I’m committed to the Arthritis Society’s Joints in Motion Training Team I am hoping for a little more resolve this summer. I recently  spent my first weekend at the cottage and ran both days. That’s the other thing.  Running on cottage roads isn’t as pleasant as you would think – the cloud of dust from passing cars, the deer flies and the mosquitos,  oh, and did I mention bears? Yes, I did.  One of the B’s. Good idea not to run alone if you can. They say you should make lots of noise so you don’t suddenly stumble upon a bear and surprise it,  especially a mom with her cubs. So conversation is a good idea in between mouth fulls of black flies and road particles. 

 Someone once told me you don’t have to be able to run faster than the bear,  just faster than the person you are running with! The other option is to clip on a “bear bell” (they should call it an “anti-bear” bell).  It rings with each step you take and hopefully scares the bear away.   I think the same person who told me the joke about not having to run faster than the bear, also once told me “you know what they often find in bear droppings?  Bear bells.”

It would have been easier to just make a donation, but instead of putting my money where my mouth is, I am putting my running shoes there, and I am letting my soon-to-be “achy breaky” feet do the talking. Now everyone knows, pride is on the line. Nothing like the public humiliation method to get one’s self back into shape. I toyed with the idea of running the full marathon distance of 26.2 miles, but my wife, Stephanie,  a.k.a “The Goddess,” suggested I set the bar at a level more appropriate to my current level of fitness and age and run a half marathon instead. Okay, I admit it, four years of croquet in the summer and curling in the winter haven’t exactly kept me in marathon shape. I used to run marathons — eight of them. When I quit smoking on August 3rd, 1990, at 2:03 p.m., I desperately needed something to help me shed the automatic twenty-pound weight gain and to keep it off. So I kicked it Forrest Gump-style and trained and trained, and eventually ran my first ever marathon in New York City in 1993. When I finished nearly five hours later, I vowed never to run another marathon again. I ran seven more. I ran my last one more than 11 years ago — Mother’s Day 1998  in Ottawa.

So here I am on Father’s Day 2009, writing my very first running blog, putting myself officially on the record. I have managed to talk “The Goddess” into running with me too. She ran the Toronto half marathon in 2007. In the days ahead, I will keep you updated on my progress weekly (and weakly) and hopefully convince some of you to join me in Barbados this December. If you want more information please go to jointsinmotion.ca or phone 1-800-321-1433.