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Sun Run


6:00 a.m., Sunday – Up at the crack of dawn. The sun slowly creeps over the horizon to greet me and 40,000 others insane enough to get up this early. Contemplate going back to bed, but defaulting on pre-registration keeps me awake enough to hit the shower. It’s not often that I’ll forego the comfort of my bed, but today is the Sun Run. This ten-kilometer run is the third-largest road race in the world, in one of the world’s most beautiful cities.

6:30 – A special bus put on by West Vancouver Transit appears with a few other hardy souls already aboard. Driving would be suicide: the downtown core is shut down for this event, making parking even harder to find than usual. Soon the bus stops along its familiar route to pick up a senior walkers’ club. The bus fills instantly with seniors gabbing like high school students. I notice three buses ahead already full. Arriving in Vancouver is slow, as half the roads are closed for this event.

On your marks, get set... © Mark Van Manen/Vancouver Sun7:30 – I enter the ranks of 40,000 other runners. All six lanes of Georgia Street are packed with energetic citizens. I had managed to convince race officials to squeeze me into the fast runner group, even though this would be my first official 10k run. I shoehorn myself in somewhere near the front. The excitement mounts. I try to stretch out my cold muscles but have little room to do so. A band plays above on a platform at the side of the road. The music is lively and two girls twirl energetically to the music. I can only wonder how much caffeine that takes this early on a Sunday.

8:15 – The race starts. I stand there. I’m eager to run butGo! ...off and running down Georgia St. cannot move. A minute passes. I reach a slow walk. The speed increases slowly like those treadmills down at the gym. Two minutes later I pass the start line. I’m off. Hampered by the thousands of people in front of me, all trying to pace themselves, I take to the sidewalk for a sprint ahead. The adrenaline of 40,000 others pushes me forward at an ever-increasing pace. Down Georgia we race. Towards the forest of Stanley Park. Soon I’m in the forest amidst a river of people. The river surges forward finding the path of least resistance, occasionally spilling off the road and across the grass. Bands play for our amusement, some good some bad; we surge on unable to stop and listen. Portable toilets lie beside the road, a strange site considering this is a race. The occasional runner stops to drain off that excess coffee.

Kilometer five – I’m half way. 25 minutes have passed. I’m still pushing ahead, weaving and twisting forward faster than the flow. Trees still surround us and a lagoon comes into view. The last of the walkers just passed the start line. The world-class athletes are pounding the last kilometer.

Cooling breeze at kilometer seven. © Peter Battistoni/Vancouver SunKilometer seven – The trees are replaced by buildings and the lagoon by ocean. A breeze sweeps off the ocean cooling the sweat of 40,000. Some walk, their adrenaline slowing to a weak ebb. Most surge on, unrelenting to the finish line. Still I pass a myriad of people: tall ones, short ones, black and white with every shade between. I pass a one-legged guy. His socks pulled up over both real and artificial limbs. A racing wheelchair speeds on in front of me. Everyone imaginable is here. The spirit of these people is incredible.

Kilometer nine – Around a corner a reggae band plays under the shelter of a bridge. They play to raise our spirits for the last kilometer. Still I weaken. I have to force myself ahead. The massive ultra-modern buildings of Yaletown line the road. Less then a kilometer more. I start to wheeze, the exertion too much. I concentrate on my breathing. I can’t slow down now. BC Place looms ahead. It’s a place of salvation. To meet friends old and new. To relax, eat and be entertained. The finish line appears. I try to sprint, to use the last of my drained energy reserves. I surge through, my legs about to collapse. What a run. It’s only 9:00 a.m.

Gotta keep the fluid levels up. © Peter Battistoni/Vancouver Sun9:05 – Entering BC Place is like entering a wind tunnel. The stadium is pressurized to keep the billowy top afloat, resulting in gale force winds exiting the doors. The wind is cooling and soothing. On the floor of BC Place the festivities are taking place. Mountains of fruit, gallons of orange juice and piles of bagels are served. The volunteers prepare to feed the masses. Multiple tables are laid out overloaded with fruit. People stream in. A band plays. People slowly stretch to the music. Some are excited. Some are relieved. Friends slowly pour in. Even after two hours people are still finishing. A giant screen shows the finish line and the seemingly endless stream of people still arriving. It’s time to go home. So I leave, eager to see my time in tomorrow’s paper.

10:00 a.m., Monday morning – I’m sore. I’ve slept in. But once out of bed, I’m anxious to check my time in the newspaper. It reads Brooks, Tyson 1525 46:45. I came one thousand five hundred and twenty-fifth, not too bad for a novice. Next year perhaps I’ll do better.

Out the corner of my eye, I’m drawn to an advertisement of a crowd of bicycles racing down a long country road. Underneath are the initials "STP", and the caption: "Seattle to Portland by bicycle, cover 320 kilometers in two days of pure pedal power, pure muscle".

I pick up the phone...

Contacts:

For more information on Vancouver, visit Tourism Vancouver / Vancouver Convention & Visitors Bureau at www.tourism-vancouver.org

The Sun Run home page can be found at http://www.sunrun.com

The race is sponsored by the Vancouver Sun newspaper: http://www.vancouversun.com



For more BC information go to travel.bc.ca