The Five Year Pursuit

Burlington Runners, Tom Carolan (left), Mark Collis (back) and Marg Lagden (right)showing off their prized finishers medals from the 2002 Boston Marathon.
Burlington Runners, Tom Carolan (left), Mark Collis (back) and Marg Lagden (right)
showing off their prized finishers medals from the 2002 Boston Marathon.

 

Six years ago I started running. I started running not because it was cool, or because it was exciting. I didn't take up this sport to meet people or become rich and famous. I didn't take that first step because it is what everyone else was doing. I had no intentions on becoming an athlete or a role model or any else.

I started running just to become a little more fit, a little less fat and a little stronger than I was at the time. When a couple of friends and colleagues asked me to join them on their three times a week trip to the gym, it seemed like a good idea. Not being a muscle head, I figured that if I didn't like it, or it was too hard I could beg out and find something else to do.

Scott, in his mid thirties, and Len, in his late forties, had a routine. They would call each other to make sure that they were available and figure out who was driving that day. When one didn't feel like heading out, the other would almost always talk the other into it. At 11:45 AM, they'd each grab their gym bags, meet up and make the journey to the "Y".

They always started their work out with a short run to warm things up for their session with the weights. They ran about five kilometres in all seasons and in all but the most severe weather. Even then they would grudgingly put in the maximum twenty minutes allowed on the YWCA's treadmills. After the jog through Gage Park, it was back to the basement weight room and the free weights and leg machines.

This was their routine and they encouraged me to join them at whatever pace and ability I had. Never mind that I hadn't run before nor done any weight training, they would show me.

I still remember that first 3.5 kilometre run. I lasted all of about a kilometre before I had to walk. And walk I did. But so did Len. Both Len and Scott took their turns on escort duty until I could complete the minimum distance well in the rear. As my fitness level improved, it was obvious that they were holding back, not to make me feel a hindrance but to encourage me. Towards the end of our time as training partners, I was able to take my turn leading the group, and hang on for that big push to try and stay ahead of Scott over the last block down to Ottawa Street.

It was a fun time to be with these guys, no real competition, mostly camaraderie. However, all things change. Membership fees went up at the Y for the lunchtime people, Scott left the company and got a new job, Len got injured and had to lay off exercising for a while. So, in my quest to find other running partners, I stumbled upon John Gonzales and the Burlington Runners Club.

I had trained alone for about six months, knowing no one else that ran, training for my second Bay race and my first marathon. It was tough going. I'm not what you would call a solitary runner by choice, but what else can you do when you have a goal.

I literally ran into John heading down Waterdown Road while I was heading up it. I had another close encounter of the BRC kind the following week at the club's Robbie Burns race. I talked with the very busy race director, Pat Peters, and followed up on the invite to join the club on the following Saturday for the regular club run.

Finally with companions, I managed to finish up my training for a successful Bay race and then the last few long runs in preparation for the Buffalo marathon. Being a member of a mere few months, it was to my considerable surprise that I was invited to join the convoy on race day and share the club hotel room after the race.

The next year after completing the London Forest City marathon, my second, I decided that it was possible, just maybe, for me to dream a Boston dream. I only had to knock forty-five minutes off my marathon time. A tall order, but with the support and advice of club members, I thought I just might be able to do it. Dream big, live large.

Along the way, this adventure has given me back more than I've put in. The people I've met and the opportunities for personal growth have outweighed the hours of training required. The stories both heard and made, have more than made up for the time lost for TV viewing. The journey has given me the chance to be a coach and a pupil, a motivator and an audience. It has taught to win honorably, lose gracefully and that by finishing last you can still succeed. I have learned that if I pretend to be an athlete, some days, I can even fool myself.

As most of you know, in my eighth marathon attempt I finally ran under my qualifying time in Ottawa last year, and I'm on my way to fulfilling a dream five years in the making. It's a dream that was not dreamt alone.

Last Sunday, I ran with the so-called "fast guys" in my last ten miler before the marathon. Normally there is a good-natured spirit of macho competitiveness with the early group, but that didn't seem to be there this Sunday. Instead of the lung-busting pace to the top of the escarpment, we all loped along at an easy trot. The road along mountain brow concession disappeared under my feet, as I was entertained with the stories, touched by the encouragement and attentive to the advice of those who have been there before me.

Although I run the race alone, I am there only through the support and efforts of others. I am running in Boston not just for myself but also for all those who have shared this journey with me and through me, from the slowest to the fastest. All those that have touched me, will be with me every step of the way from the starting gun in Hoppington to the finish line in down town Boston.

Through you, I run.

By Mark G. Collis

Revised: July 24, 2006.