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My name is Gunner, Luc Gunner. I’m a private dick. I specialize in solving cases about races. One of the most compelling and shocking cases I’ve ever worked was the case of this year’s Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon… It all happened one morning when I was in my office trying to decide what adidas went best with my pinstriped tights and double breasted gray running suit. Chapter 1 – The Bombshell It was just after lunch when Kitty Pearson burst into my office like an ice storm racing across Lake Ontario. She was nervous and jumpy as a diuretic in the porta-potty line. I nudged my lower desk draw open with my foot in case I had to go for my piece.
“I’m here to spill the beans about the Toronto case…” She stammered casting nervous looks at the open windows. She had my attention like a 2X4 across the kisser. I tilted back my coolmax fedora, fixed her with a hard, cold stare and motioned to the metal guest chair. “Have a seat lady.” She was a blonde bombshell and spoke with a clipped accent that I couldn’t quite place, like someone from the Midwest who had spent too much time in Australia. She obviously had something big on her mind. What I had on my mind was the way she looked that red and white track suit with the big maple leaf on it. I wasn’t sure I could trust this gal. The mystery of the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon was one of those old wives tales that came around every summer. I reached into my desk drawer. She flinched and tensed as if trying to decide whether or not to make a run for it. I smiled and pulled out a fresh pack of PowerBars, offering her one.  She declined curtly and was obviously in a hurry to get something off her chest. I made her wait. I made a show of pouring two large shots of Gatorade from my pocket flask into dusty crystal tumblers. “Go ahead, Babe. Take a snort. It will calm your nerves.” Hesitantly she took the glass and downed it, quickly, nervously. She grimaced like she had taken an elbow to the ribs in the starting corral and visibly relaxed. “Good stuff, thanks.” She eyeballed me expectantly, but decided I was too dangerous a prospect to rush. I figured it was time to wring her out. Smoothing the crumbs from the green desk blotter I fixed her with my baby blues. “So, thrill me Sister.” She began slowly, soon warmed to her task and before long was laying it down in an all out sprint. She began to reveal the truth about things so incredible, so unbelievable that I knew either she was cracked or the case soon would be.  Most of it I knew already from the legends that had been haunting the squad room for some time. It was the same old tale about a big city marathon north of the border, in a cosmopolitan city, flat fast and festive. I smiled to myself and thought, “This old saw again.” Being a private dick I always suspected there was something going on up by the border, but until now it had only been disconnected scraps of information too good to be true. Now that she laid it out in front of me I had to take the case. This could create a scandal that would blow the running world apart. If half of what she was spilling turned out to be true it meant these sneaky Canadians were hiding the perfect marathon up on the other side of the big lake and hoping we wouldn’t catch on.  Before that dirty deal got me bounced off of the force, I had heard rumors; fanciful rumors. Nothing could be proved, but as I thought about it a chill ran through me like an Ontario wind. This is one case I had let get away and here was this bird in my office. Maybe she had the key for me to finally put those nagging suspicions to bed. She said it was a big party race on a flat, fast course along the shore of Lake Ontario. She said that there was a large city hidden out there a few miles drive from Buffalo NY, on the other side of Niagara Falls that was full of warm friendly people who cooked up a weekend race event that rocked from dusk to dawn and back again.  Finally she paused from her tale looking wrung out like a mop and looked at me expectantly. “Mister Gunner, if they find out I’ve been talking to you…” She let it trail off in a desperate sigh. “Last year 10,000 runners from more than 30 countries, every Canadian province, and 40 US states snuck into Toronto for the race. It’s scandalous I tell you! We had around 600 US runners on ‘Team America’; 200 runners on ‘Team Great Britain’. If you’re from the States they don’t even need a passport. This race is growing fast and becoming a hugely popular destination weekend event.” “Hey, kid. I’ve heard all this before. It’s nothing but rumors. You got any hard evidence to back it up?”  With that she reached into her coat. I slid my hand into my own coat and felt the cold hard metal of the bronzed relay baton I use for persuasion. When she produced only some papers, I let out my breath. “Look, see here? It’s a race flyer! It says that the 7th Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon is going to be held on September 24th 2006! There’s your proof!” “Let me look at that, Chippy.” I inspected the flyer. Sure enough it described a race weekend starting with a free concert and Pasta dinner that had a penguin speaking about running. It talked about a big Expo down in the centre of Toronto. It went on to list the start times for a marathon, a ½ marathon and a 5k. Then it went on to reveal a post race party with the elites. Incredulously I read on about the choice of 5 baseball games around the weekend involving the Blue Jays, the Yankees and the Red Sox!  “What’s your game Bambi? You can’t possibly believe this? Something is fishy here. This is too good to be true. How could they possibly give away home stretch AL East pennant race tickets for $9 bucks Canadian? And besides that, Penguins can’t run, I saw the movie, they march.” She was crestfallen and sank like a bag of wet croissants into her chair. But I had thought about it and figured, “What the hell. A guy like me can’t live forever.” “Ok Sweetie, I’ll take the case.” She brightened. “But I’m going to need a free race number and my expenses paid. I’ve got a trip planned up North.” I said, gesturing with a meaningful jerk of my head towards the window.
After she left the office my mood was up. It felt great to be on the trail again. I was looking forward to getting to the bottom of this Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon once and for all. Chapter 2 – Electronic Dreams – Take me out to the Ball Park First I had to do some research. Make sure I knew what I was up against. I switched on my laptop and prepared to surf the web, where all the crazies hang out and the best incriminating evidence can be found. I chuckled to myself, “Marathons in Canada! I must be getting soft.” I strolled over to www.torontowaterfrontmarathon.com. Whoever these guys were they were good at covering their trail. If this website was a fake, it was a good one.  For all I could see it could have been a real site. There was all the regular info about the race expo and packet pickup on Friday 22nd and Saturday 23rd. There was a marathon starting early at 7:00 AM, a ½ marathon and a 5K. They even had a link to a video about last year’s event. Holy MP3, this was getting weirder by the minute. They had the audacity to offer a free concert Friday night Nathan Phillips Square right downtown. And I found out that the penguin at the pasta dinner on Sunday night was actually some guy who gives inspiring talks to the slow runners... What kind of game were they playing here? The bit about the baseball tickets that I had scoffed at was repeated. The website said that if you came in early, you could make a Yankees game on Wednesday. And you had a choice of Red Sox games – Saturday at 4:00 or Sunday at 1:00 and if you hang around, Monday Night at 7:00. What’s more incredible was that bleacher seats were only $9 and field sets were $30 CAN. The last weekend in September those tickets would be hot, hot, hot!
They went on to describe how this race was flat and fast with a 2 year Boston qualification and pretty good lakefront, out-and-back course. There were going to be 18 water/Gatorade stops and impeccable support. The race start and finish, the hotels, the games and the parties would all be right downtown within walking distance. There would be bands and DJ’s to entertain the nearly 10,000 runners. They went on to talk about the “neighborhood challenge” in which each ward competes on its section of the course to entertain the runners for $5k in charity money. Rumor has it that the drummers were great last year.  Finishers, it claimed, would get medals and the first 2,500 entries would get an adidas Climalite Technical shirt! As I spun through the tale to the end I discovered that there would be 23 “pace bunnies” to help people through the marathon and ½ marathon. I dated a Bunny in Vegas once. Who ever created this site had a sense of humor. There was a story about an Ed Whitlock claiming he ran a 3:02 and change at 74 years old last year! And there was another laugher about some guy named Michal Kapral a.k.a. “The Joggler” who finished in 3:07 while juggling to raise money for charity! What a hoot! The shifty looking hoodlum impersonating a race director was bold enough to claim that this was the 6th fastest marathon in North America last year with Kenyan Simon Bor winning in 2:11:57 – must be more of that “flat-fast” mantra that seemed to permeate everything like the smell of day-old trail shoes in Spring. They claimed to be only behind the mega-money marathons - Chicago, Rock'n Roll San Diego, LA, New York, and Boston. There must be something up there to draw so many people and so much speed out of the woodwork.  But what really caught my eye was the post-run victory party at Milestones. This was starting to get interesting. Maybe this was a place I could get some better answers. Chapter 3 – of Made Men and Milestones It was time to hit the streets. I had to do some groundwork. I had to go to where the runners hung out and do some digging. So I grabbed my trench coat, stuffed a couple Gu packets in my overnight bag and headed for the door.  I hopped a cheap flight to Buffalo and made the 2 hour drive to the other side of the lake. Then it hit me like a charging bull moose. There was a city here; a big one at that. The Toronto I discovered was a clean city with broad streets and friendly people. It was home to a thriving multi-cultural stew that filled the air with a thick vibrancy like a cloud of happy mosquitoes. I pointed the rental car downtown and checked into my local digs. It was a pretty good deal with the Canadian Dollar worth about 85 cents, I got a room for $200 CAD and that only dented my billfold by $170 USD. That wouldn’t buy you a cold water walk up in NYC, but in Toronto it put me into a swanky, 5 star affair. I cleaned up, tipped the doorman and headed out. The streets were filled with friendly people of many cultures. There was a ton of good shopping and diverse restaurants, but I didn’t have time to relax. I was on a case.
It took a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust when I first entered the bar. Some place called Milestones where all the serious runners were supposed to hang out. The joint was sparsely furnished with framed running posters along the walls. The afternoon sun played shadows on trophy cases by the bar. It was a good crowd tonight. The place was packed with runners. They were from all over. I thought I recognized the Irish steeple chase team singing karaoke in one corner. I sidled up to the bar. “Hey Bub. Give me a bottle of your best.” Armed with a freshly poured Aquafina I confronted the person next to me. He was wearing pointed boots and a ten gallon hat. Looked like he might be from Texas Oil country; a good place as any for me to start. “Hey buster, you look like you know the score. Ever hear anything about Toronto?”  He eyed me nervously. “Maybe, who wants to know?” “Listen Bub, I aint no cop, see, I just want to find a good place to run an early Boston qualifier at the end of the summer.”  “Yeah, well y’all can’t be too careful…I would recommend this race to any Houston Strider...it's a great, flat course, a great web training program, a 2-year Boston qualifier, with enjoyable entertainment in a fun, safe city environment. If you can score tickets to the world premier of the $23 million Lord of the Rings musical, prior to its 2008 Broadway opening, you can experience middle earth and marathon heaven all in one trip to Toronto!" This guy was over the top. I gave him the brush off and moved on to a likely Lassie that looked to be English. “Mornin’your Higness. How about that Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon?”
She looked quizzical, lowered his ale. “I helped organize a trip to this marathon after meeting with the race director, Alan Brookes, at the London Marathon expo. As a result, seven of us from Ulverston and the Hoad Hill Harriers club came across the Atlantic for the first time. The flight/hotel package was exceptional, not only for price, but also for quality; it certainly made our stay very enjoyable. The race was very well organized, being a veteran of 13 marathons now; entry was easy, race instructions very clear on the net, the organization of being met and taken to the race start and baggage area was slick, and the race expo was efficient in its registration procedures.“ Mary Poppins here wouldn’t stop once I got her unstuck. I gave her the hook and continued on to another promising looking young lady; one of the locals. “Pardon the interruption Miss, but what was your favorite thing at the STWM? “Well…” she started, measuring me with her gaze, “Course support was great even that early. Early registrants had their first names printed on their race bibs, so fans called out your name as you passed. That was really special.”  She seemed like a swell kid, so I chatted up her friends as well and got some key clues to the event’s alleged recent success. “Having an earlier start option was great; we were able to avoid the heat (although it turned out to be not that bad). Lots of water and Gatorade; well supported drink stations, added bonus of offers of power gels (many marathons don't provide these). The bands were fantastic, especially the drum band under the highway. Even the final photo captured all 3 of us…” They prattled on like caffeinated 5-year-olds about how runners from different countries this year were going to get special rubber wrist bands with, for example the Union Jack for Brits and there was a ‘team challenge’. I guess that would make me part of Team USA. I’d had enough of these guys. It was too easy, too obvious. I figured the only thing left to do was to visit the crime scene. Chapter 4 – On the waterfront. I walked the broad streets down to waterfront where boats bobbed at anchor on the calm coast of Lake Ontario. I checked for dead bodies but didn’t see any. One thing was for sure it was flat in both directions as far as I could see. Out in the lake there were islands that seemed to be parks that you could take boat excursions to. Turning my back to the water I looked up the gentle slope where all of downtown Toronto huddled together in a few block radius. Right in front of me was the CN Tower, purportedly the tallest building in the world. Under that massive needle crouched the home of the Blue Jays, the Rogers Centre that I remembered as the Sky Dome of my youth. I guess there was no doubt about it. There was a city here and there was a cool, flat, fast, festive and fabulous race run here too. I took out my sunglasses and rubbed them with the tail of my tie. Squinting into the setting afternoon sun I trudged back up the hill to my hotel and to find some food. Epilogue Back in my office on the East Side, I pulled it all together. Tomorrow the Post would get an anonymous package in the mail and Miss Kitty’s secret would be a secret no more. The Soctiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon was going to be splashed all over the front page in all its glory. I already had my tickets for the game and my Climalite shirt locked up, so what did I care? I leaned back in my chair, locked my hands behind my head, swung my size 12 Gel Cumulus up on the desk and smiled. The bastards would never know what hit them. I couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when I showed up to run on September 24th. Latest articles in Canada: Alberta
 Flat, Fast and Festive – the Fabulous Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront MarathonCracking the case of the ‘Maltese Blue Jay’… Also: Event Website Also: Register Online Race in the Rockies: The Creative Restaurants Banff-Calgary Road Race Whether it's the beauty of the terrain, the challenge of the hills, the mystique of the miles or a chance to run with friends, the Banff-Calgary remains an intriguing and unique race offering an unforgettable experience for all participants. Also: Race website |
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