Friday, November 1, 2013


I like to run around our neighbourhood every Hallowe'en, because there's nothing more satisfying than the horrified screams of the innocent. I started back in 2009, on the very first Hallowe'en that occurred after I began running (in November 2008). Yep, I had to train for almost an entire year before being able to inflict coronaries on others while strengthening my own cardiovascular system.


I actually ran in the same mask every year until this one - apart from hating the way it covers my nose (you never realize how much oxygen it contributes while running until it's blocked off), the elastic had gone so I figured it was time for a change. We happened to be near the most deliciously fun place in the world to go around Hallowe'en, so I had a look around and came up with something that would be absolutely perfect and was only $3.

Because the only thing that beats scaring the pants off people is making them groan and writhe in pain at a terrible pun, I give you:


Of course, with having a schwack of errands to run (that's a metric unit; approximately 2 bushels shy of a buttload, but I digress) we didn't get home until 8:30pm, and the ridiculously wet and windy weather ensured that all but the hardiest not-quite-old-enough-to-realize-they're-too-old trick or treaters had already given up and gone home. I also desperately needed to get to the pool, so decided I'd just run afterward. After splashing about in my clever costume - I dressed up as someone who can swim 1:00 per 100m, but destroyed the illusion by actually putting in some yardage - I got home and had some packing to do, since we're leaving directly from work today to drive 5 hours to a Hallowe'en party that isn't happening until tomorrow. 

These things don't have to make sense when they happen in another country.

With it being my first run since Horror Hill, I wasn't sure what to expect. The brutally painful right knee had only lasted a day, but the sore ankle had proved a bit more enduring an impairment; it had finally acquiesced to let me walk pain-free the day before, just in time for a Wednesday cycle down to my Mum's place. Riding a bike and going for a run on a somewhat dicky ankle are two different things, though, so I'd be taking things easy. I tend to feel like I'm starting from scratch again when I take 3 or more days off running anyway, so I didn't expect a quick pace or long-duration workout.

By the time I finally got 'round to lacing up my shoes it was nearly midnight, the rain was still pounding down, and the wind had increased to 33kph (20.5mph) with gusts up to 60kph (37mph), but it was still an unseasonably mild 15c / 59f. I managed to get myself together, set up my watch and persuade Endomondo to lock onto a satellite, and finally began my run at...11:58pm.

Apparently Endomondo became possessed by evil spirits or something.
It was, after all, the witching hour.

I only saw one other person out on the streets as the wind whipped the rain in my face, by turns pushing me along and occasionally nearly bringing me to a halt - some teenage kid just on his way from A to B, not caring a lick about some idiot running around in a silly hat. My ankle cooperated, though, so I ran through the rain-soaked darkness for half an hour as Hallowe'en became All Hallows Day.

Noone caught the running bug!

Sometimes it's not about being noticed - it's just about being.

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