Not-So-Rugged Raccoon

More like ragged raccoon, really.

Definitely some kind of trash panda, though.

Saturday, May 2nd was to be raceday for Rugged Raccoon - the Happy Trails Racing 25k night race that had been such a fun mudfest at Wildwood Conservation Area last year. This year's version had to be virtual due to the pandemic, but I was resolved in trying to duplicate the race conditions as best I could within the restrictions of the trails I have available from my front door. I also decided to do it on the actual day the race was to be held...or rather that night. We were permitted to complete it at any time between May 2nd and May 16th, but the weather looked good for the night versus the return to winter predicted for the following weekend.

The actual conditions - notice the swing in the wind direction.
Still better than 3c and snow!

Regardless, I didn't exactly set myself up for success with this - as if I ever do. However, this time it was a bit more than just lack of sleep. You see, we'd finally managed to get all the pieces in place to sort out a problem: our old (non-running) car had 4 wheels on it with our all-season tires, and our newer car still had 4 wheels with our snow tires on. Since the old car will eventually be towed away, we picked up a set of 4 rims to mount a selection of mis-matched all-season tires we had sitting around, and got those tires mounted on the loose rims Saturday morning. After brunch, we tackled the job of swapping the 12 wheels around so we'd end up with a full-size spare, 3 junker tires and a donut on the old car, and our winter tires (still on rims for easy seasonal change-over) tucked comfortably away in the garage.

*Cue the Benny Hill theme*

No big deal, right? Well it wasn't, until I was crouched down with my hands wrapped around our breaker bar, reefing on a lug nut...and something went pop in my lower back. An explosion of pain - I collapsed to my knees and crawled to the lawn, where I laid for a moment before carefully trying some stretches to see if I could loosen things up.

After a time, I was able to stand. Oddly enough, I actually started to feel a bit better once I very carefully lifted and carried a couple of snow tires to stow them under the workbench in the garage. Movement became easier as minutes went by - I was able to mount some wheels on the old car, go from standing to kneeling and back, spin wrenches (though not the breaker bar; heck that!), and make myself marginally useful.

Still, I didn't know if running would be a thing that evening. Or that month.

After we buttoned up both vehicles, I did a bit more stretching, and applied a "Deep Relief" heating patch to my back. Then Tanker and I went for a bit of a hike, because we'd planned to do so and I wanted to see how it felt to move.

We even found some new-to-us trails!

AND THERE WERE FUZZY LITTLE GOSLINGS

By the time we returned home, we'd wandered more than 5km, but my back was feeling...ok. Ish. I definitely wasn't going to be practicing any contortionism, but I could walk just fine. I tried running up and down the length of the livingroom, then up a few stairs. When I didn't die, I decided it was on.

Of course, since we hadn't got back from our hike til 7pm (not having eaten since noon) and I had some preparing (not all of which was stuffing my face) to do, it was gone 9 by the time I strapped on my hydration pack.

If you're thinking this was a dumb move, you clearly haven't been around here very long.
Stupid stuff is sort of my entire oeuvre.

With my pockets stuffed with fuel and plenty of water onboard, I bade farewell to Tank and set off.

Other family members may have been part of the "start line festivities" as well.

With it already full dark out, I began with my headlamp on, but didn't need it for the first couple of kilometres as I ran out of my neighbourhood and along the streetlit multi-use path. Once I hit the trail, though, it became apparent that I probably should have checked the batteries in my headlamp before I left. Or brought spares. Or something smart like that.

(This was taken with flash)

Being rail trail for the most part, I wasn't too concerned about footing - especially since it's all trail with which I'm rather intimately familiar. I know where I need to look out for the washed-out ruts that were carved by rain and meltwater in March. I know where the boardwalk is missing a bit of wood. I know where the bedrock sticks out of the trail in a way that could turn an ankle.

Speaking of which, my right ankle had been a bit cranky since the latter part of our hike. It was not improving on the run, though strangely enough my back actually seemed to feel a bit better after the first couple of kilometers. I'd peeled off the heat patch before leaving, as I didn't know what sweating heavily in it might do; some stuff like that warns against getting it wet as it can heat up enough to cause skin damage, and I hadn't read the instructions other than "don't leave on for more than 8hrs". Also, the top of it had already started to roll up a bit from the hike, and I didn't want to risk a nasty bout of chafing on top of everything else I had going against me.

Might as well try to be intelligent about ONE thing.

I also tried to stay on top of nutrition, hydration, and electrolytes. Having munched some snacks before I left, washed down with some delicious mocha cold brew coffee (because I was feeling in need of a nap before I even started!), I waited until about 35mins in to have an Endurance Tap maple gel and an S!cap. I'd been sipping water steadily from my pack, which carried 2L in the bladder plus another 600ml in a soft bottle in one of the front pockets.

Let me tell you how much I looked forward to that weight slowly disappearing as I ran..

Around 7.5k I turned onto the Devil's Creek Trail for a ~2km spur heading due south - straight into the wind, and almost all uphill. Fortunately I wasn't in much of a rush; I was in no shape to push hard, so walked when I pleased and just enjoyed the song of the frogs in the creek and wetlands. I had yet to see a soul.

For some reason there weren't many people about on the trails at 10pm on a Saturday night.

There were a few unexpectedly soft, muddy spots along the trail - presumably from the rain that had fallen earlier that day, which caught the finest meteorological minds (and us) off guard. My back twinged as my foot slipped a little, so I took note of where the mud was and resolved to go carefully through those bits on the trip back to the main trail. 

Eventually I completed the out-and-back, downing another Endurance Tap and S!cap around 1h18m as I passed Devil's Creek Falls before passing under George Street and rejoining the Grand Trunk Trail for the last section down to Riverbluffs Park. 

Just as charming at night.

I walked the pothole-pocked gravel driveway up out of Riverbluffs - passing the halfway point of my journey - and steeled myself for a long road section. The shoes I'd chosen were ones that had been making my ankle fairly happy recently, but had a lot of mileage on them; I could immediately feel the difference when I made my first transition from pavement to trail around 2.5km in, as my whole body sighed with relief at the reduction in pounding. Now I was heading for cement sidewalks, and the shoes hadn't even managed to keep my ankle from whining. So, another error in judgement for which I'd pay the price.

Might as well have tied a cinderblock to my arse as well!

It was around 14km that I hit the pedestrian bridge and crossed over to the east side of the Grand River. I even saw a couple of people at long last - a pair out for a stroll and reaching the bridge at approximately the same time I did.

Looking upriver, which is where I was headed next.

This was a significant milestone, as I had finally reached my furthest point from home and would now draw closer with each step.

The bridge - opened the day of Sulphur Springs in 2018 - is also kind of neat, and always lit with coloured L.E.D. strings at night.

I still had a fair bit of road running to go until I'd hit the next bit of trail, but at least it was a mild evening and the riverwalk is lovely at any time of day. What was less awesome is that the wind had now swung to the west, meaning I had a headwind AGAIN.

It was picking up, too.

I heard the clock at city hall toll 11pm as I came up Water Street, while every part of me started to complain. I reached the Mill Race and decided it was time for some more nutrition, about 1h50m and close to 10 miles (16km) in.

Inaccurate: it was only about 11:05pm, and I had slightly less than 10k left.

I took the ramp up past the Cambridge Mill, then it was up the Dan Spring Way, where I ran into some more people - one of whom, off to the side of the trail, was courteous enough to let me know he was there so he (in his own words) didn't spook me. Much appreciated! While I don't really fear running alone in the dark, my headlamp beam was so pathetically dim I was having real trouble just making out the trail ahead of me, let alone anything outside its 5' circle. I probably had the most trouble with footing here out of the whole route, as the trail is covered in elderly, broken pavement that would probably be best removed entirely, and I was having difficulty seeing its contours in the pathetic glow.

Back onto pavement to climb up to the Delta, then up past Cambridge Memorial Hospital with its painted-rock-studded gardens. Nice to see those with time and talent are offering messages of hope and thanks to our healthcare workers as they work so hard to fight the pandemic, so we can all continue to live our lives happily with our loved ones.

Walking up a gentle-but-long, sidewalked hill close to 20k in, I took another S!cap around 2h20m, but didn't feel like anything further for calories. I was grateful to be back in streetlights, but feeling really beat up from the cement and pavement...and maybe a back injury and 5+km hike earlier in the day. At the same time, I was also trying to hustle a bit, hoping I could bring in the last 5k in a bit less than 40mins to finish under 3hrs. It was taking a lot of effort to move with any kind of purpose.

Hard left at Bishop, then down the steep grade to river level on the Linear Trail with the wind now gusting in my face - I was pleased I'd worn a light longsleeve wool shirt, as I think anything less and I'd have got quite chilled. The eastern end of the trail suffered a lot of damage over the winter, and has been largely filled with soft gravel; totally energy-sucking and a bit difficult to see in the waning light from my headlamp, so I ended up walking a lot of it, which didn't help keep me either warm or on schedule. As I drew closer to the west end, though, I noticed I could see my own shadow on the trail - the moon had appeared over my shoulder, shining at least as brightly as my headlamp on the much-better-packed gravel and dirt below my feet.

Beauty - let's make some time.

I tried to turn on the jets once I hit the street on Chopin and headed downwind out to King, then up past the Preston Springs Hotel on Fountain to the bottom of Shantz Hill. Here's where it got complicated: I knew I wasn't in any sort of shape to push myself into a run up the sidewalk, and my 25k route involved taking the singletrack trail up the hill to cut through Ravine Park and home. As I turned to face the final bit of trail - turning my headlamp to its highest setting and despairing slightly as it failed to illuminate much more than a couple of feet ahead of me - I knew I'd have to run as much of the hill as I could, in spite of the fallen trees blocking it and treacherous, side-sloped, death-to-the-right section near the bottom.

I did the best I could, and actually ran more than I really expected, but the 3-hour mark ticked past before I reached either 25k or the house. I had made it out of the park and onto my street, but every bit of me hurt. I'm not cut out for this road running stuff; I'd rather play in the mud.

Though technically it's my fastest Rugged Raccoon by more than a 20min margin.

No fanfare or medals when I arrived home, exhausted and hurtin' - just my sweetheart telling me he's proud of me, and offering me one of the best inventions ever:

Chäir

In the best Happy Trails Racing tradition, my course was actually a touch long - so my "official time" is even slower.

Gee, guess where the out-and-back was?
(Full workout data here)

I wasn't even hungry afterward - just tired and sore, though it didn't really feel like I'd made anything worse. Hot water felt great on my back, and cold water went a long way in making my ankle happier again.

A shower cider helped with the rest.

So, I haven't actually run since, though I've been doing a lot of walking. For once I'm trying to do something right and get a little bit of rest and recovery before I fully cripple myself. I do have one more virtual event for which I'm registered (mostly because it's for an excellent cause), but I have until the end of the month to complete it, and it can be accomplished by walking. Still doing that daily, along with some gentle yoga and sitting with a heat pack in the evenings.

If I'm not mistaken, the injury I sustained is a more acute version of something I've been trying to work through for more than a year now, so I may be facing a "forever" kind of thing as I can't currently see anyone for treatment; the pamdemic has not been kind to RMTs, chiropractors, or physiotherapists, nor those of us defective humans who rely on their knowledge and skill to keep us reasonably operational. 

Fingers crossed I can get back to running long distances once the trails begin to re-open...just don't ask me to twist to my left.

Also, COULD IT STOP FREAKIN' SNOWING PLEASE? It's May for heck's sake!

Going the Distance

..the social distance, that is. More specifically, the Happy Trails Racing "Going the (Social) Distance" challenge.

Nothing to do with Cake - I'm definitely not going for speed.

The first part of the challenge was just trying to pick a distance. Things had been intense in my professional life through January and February due to payroll year-end, but that was expected and I had a couple of races through those months that helped keep my mileage up around the 250k mark (244km & 267km respectively). March is when I usually get some breathing space...but not this year. Due to the pandemic, I was inundated with extra tasks on top of my always-punishing workload as I tried to keep up with the constantly-changing relief measures for both companies and individuals, while life outside the office became increasingly complicated: our farmers' market (source of most of our weekly groceries) closed down, regular stores required lineups and extra precautions, bank opening hours dwindled, and my job was listed as essential. My boss seems to think it's still 1983, so I'm not permitted to work from home...because HE doesn't.

The way ahead seemed rather bleak and dark.

All told, I only got in 206km in March, so I set my sights on 200k for the April challenge. At the time it seemed manageable, if a bit soft; I really should be up over 300k/month for the races I had planned this coming summer, though as they slowly began to disappear in a wave of postponements, deferrals, and virtual races, I felt less like I was slacking off. It was partly out of self-preservation: with even more hours spent at the office - furiously issuing records of employment and trying to advise clients how to access relief programmes while maintaining all of the weekly, bi-weekly, semi-monthly, and monthly work within the strict government deadlines - that meant even less time for sleep than usual, particularly as it now took twice as long just to pick up food for the week.

I was exhausted.
Still am, really.

I faced some other challenges when it came to racking up the miles as well. First, the closure of all trail tracts nearby that are suitable for multi-hour runs: there are still trails available to me (for which I'm very grateful), but in order to put together a loop of more than a handful of kilometers I have to do a fair bit of road mileage that beats me up pretty badly. I also know that I suffer from immune system suppression if I run for longer than 3 hours at a time, and right now I'm definitely interested in keeping my immunity as strong as possible to prevent any kind of illness - even a mild cold could compromise my ability to fight off infection by the novel coronavirus, and I'm at risk for exposure every day at the work as I have no confidence in the hygiene habits of my coworkers or the clients who are still in and out of our offices daily. 

I really, REALLY wish my boss would pick up the heckin' plot.

I did complete a couple of sub-challenges during the month of April, though: when hundreds of people around the world were taking part in the Quarantine Backyard Ultra on April 4th, I did my own Quarant-Evil Backyard Challenge with 3 x 6.66km laps around my neighbourhood at the top of each hour between 9am and noon.

Yeah, I should have stopped a bit short on the last one..

I was grateful that the new race directors of Pick Your Poison - which was cancelled, but offered a virtual race - allowed us to re-select our poison of choice to still receive finisher's socks and be entered to win a jar of the coveted (and heckin' delicious!) Orillia honey.  With trail tracts closed and no desire to increase my infection risk by trying to run 50km without support, I dropped down to a 25k loop of town that allowed me to hit most of the open bits of trail, starting and finishing at my own front door.

If I were smarter I'd have started at least an hour earlier so I didn't finish after dark, but we both know there was no chance of me getting any brighter.

I actually took the day after that off, and just went for a hike with Tanker instead of running...but other than that, I was pretty consistent, and the running I put in was largely made up of 5-6km lunch runs and a few 8-12km runs on trails I can reach on foot from my house. I've respected all trail closures, and have seldom gone against the pleas of the authorities to refrain from driving to trailheads.

I will admit that the hike I took with Tank after my PYP run involved driving to a trailhead to check out a new-to-us trail which was just a bit too far away to walk.

While the Going the (Social) Distance challenge did allow you to include walks or hikes as well as running mileage, I haven't added those in to my total, though I do usually walk on my lunch on Fridays (which I also took off running, as usual), and there were a couple of other days on which I did both a run and a hike with Tanker.

There are some beautiful places right in our own backyard.

I will admit there were a couple of times that it was just the challenge that pushed me out the door - the weather has been miserable, I've been so very tired, and my right ankle decided to play up again, so I've had plenty of excuses - but this was mostly just my usual grind, with nothing spectacular thrown in to bring up my total. I even allowed myself to run a bit shorter on weekends, as I've already written off most of my race season; even if the longest race that I had planned does happen (it's in late August), I know I won't be attempting my original goal with the step-down in training I've taken lately.

Still, I did manage that 200k - plus a bonus 3.33km - by April 29th.

I ran 24 out of 30 days / 26 times in the month.
I even rode a bike once, too!

With being unable to run on my lunch on Thursdays and a nasty forecast of rain for the day, I decided to allow myself the grace of an extra day off yesterday. My ankle had been getting worse since Saturday, so I was going to give it some time to recover...then I did some therapeutic work on it during the day yesterday that almost immediately brought it back to nearly 100%. Still, the rain in the evening and the prospect of an upcoming challenge this weekend persuaded me to stick to taking the extra rest day; I'd met my goal, and felt no need to push.

That'll do.

The wonderful folks at Happy Trails Racing have posted a new challenge for May 2020, that allows you to choose your distance again, or to set an "other" goal - whether that's elevation, frequency, or a speed benchmark you'd like to reach. There's also a wonderfully supportive facebook group that began with the April challenge and will continue to be available for everyone to share their stories. The challenge is free to join, and open to anyone, anywhere in the world.

Honestly, though, I don't think I'll be joining. I have some ideas for running-related things I'd like to do in May, but holding myself to an arbitrary mileage goal is not among them. It's not like I need any real persuasion to go out and enjoy a good romp on the trails; I'm more likely to need an impetus to take time off to allow myself to heal and rest. So, I'll let all of you go out there and chase your goals, while I just see what my makes my body and mind happy this month.

I'll be over here cheering for all of you, though!

The Struggle

..is real.

I know I'm not the only one who is having a hard time keeping up training while being forced to adapt to an ever-changing, endlessly complicated world. The weather hasn't helped, either; this week's mix of powerful wind, persistent cold, chilly rain, and stupid snow - sometimes all at the same time - has definitely not helped. So, I don't know who all needs to hear this, but..

IF YOU RAN IN NASTY WEATHER TODAY - I'm proud of you for getting out there!

IF YOU DIDN'T RUN TODAY DUE TO NASTY WEATHER - I'm proud of you for letting discretion be the better part of valor!

We all bloom better with some sunshine and warmth.

IF YOU RAN IN LOVELY WEATHER TODAY - I'm still proud of you for getting out there!

IF YOU RAN INDOORS TODAY - I'm proud of you for getting it done!

We all have to follow our own path

IF YOU DIDN'T RUN TODAY DUE TO FATIGUE, ILLNESS OR INJURY - I'm proud of you for listening to your body's needs, and I hope you're feeling better soon!

IF YOU DIDN'T RUN TODAY JUST BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT - I'm proud of you for taking care of your mental health, and ask that you please don't beat yourself up about it.

A rolling stone gathers no moss, but mossy rocks are beautiful!

IF YOU DIDN'T GET OUT OF YOUR PAJAMAS TODAY - I'm proud of you for making it out of bed. Have a glass of water; hydration is important.

Also, have this photo of a sunset along a riverside trail.

IF YOU DIDN'T MAKE IT OUT OF BED TODAY - I'm proud of you for letting yourself get some rest. You can try again tomorrow, or not.

For now, just let your mind and body fill with peace.

No matter how much or how little you accomplished today, it is enough - YOU are enough. High fives to all those who are still crushing their goals; you're doing amazing! If you fell short of what you wanted to achieve, offer yourself grace; it doesn't make you less worthy, and you can try again another time.

I know you'll get it, because you're awesome!

Now, if I can just remember to apply all this to myself when the days get rough..

The shoe doesn't always fit the other foot so well.

 Stay strong out there - wishing you all good health and peace of mind.

Oh yeah, and don't forget I'M PROUD OF YOU!

Stewardship

There seem to be a lot more people out using the trails these days.

I'm sure that will only increase as the weather improves.

As I ran down a local and much-loved trail recently, it occurred to me that this could be a wonderful thing.

The beginning of something..

While I know there are many longtime trail users - hikers, runners, and cyclists - that are irritated by the sudden influx of people on their favourite routes, my optimistic side tells me this could end up benefiting us all.

If it unfolds as we might hope.

If these new trail users realise how precious our outdoor spaces really are, we may be creating a whole new crew of people who will advocate for their protection. Who may be motivated to help with trail work - even something as simple as picking up one piece of trash while out walking - and pressure governing bodies to maintain trails and natural areas for all to enjoy.

Because these spaces are delicate, and need to be kept safe.

I know there is a huge issue with all of this: I'm assuming that these folks will actually care. I know that some of them may be currently behaving in ways that jeopardize - rather than preserve - the natural beauty around them. I worry about the green shoots I see along a particular section of trail; will they be trampled before they bloom into a glorious carpet of trilliums? Will people know that these flowers are protected by law as our provincial flower?

Perhaps - as seasoned trail users - that is our new calling. To educate, and hope that we can turn what could potentially be the ruination of our beloved trails into a new generation of stewards.

So we can all enjoy the trails for years to come.

So, my challenge to you is this: the next time you see someone out in the woods who may not be displaying perfect trail etiquette or respect for their natural surroundings, try to view it as an occasion for education rather than an annoyance. Show them (from an appropriate distance, of course) what they may have missed - the delicate leaves of a wild plant or flower just emerging above the soil, the buds on the twigs slowly beginning to unfurl into a green canopy, or the turtle sunning itself on a rock in the trailside pond. There are no real races in the near future for which we need to train intensely, so why not pause for a moment while you're out and try to pass along some of your love for your favourite places to people who are just discovering them for the first time?

Teach them to listen to the endless chatter of a rocky stream.

If we treat these newcomers to our trails with contempt, we miss an opportunity to create a new ally in the never-ending fight against the destruction of our outdoor spaces...and the trails need all the friends they can make!

We've all lost, but not lost all

It's not an easy time to be a trail runner.

Hazards exist

With Parks Canada, Ontario Parks, Grand River Conservation Areas (and all their managed lands), Credit Valley, Hamilton & Halton Conservation areas, and even the Bruce Trail closed to public access, there's very little off-road running to be found.

What few trails are open are often in rather poor repair..

..with no realistic hope of municipalities allocating resources to their repair any time soon.

Even our beloved Cambridge Farmers' Market is closed, so I've lost my usual Saturday morning run down to pick up our amazing local meats and produce.

We're finding ways to support local producers, but we miss seeing the friendly faces of our vendors!

I'm incredibly disappointed that the actions of some selfish, thoughtless people have brought us to this point. You see, the reason for the closures is that people were not respecting the physical distancing recommendations that have been drilled into all of us constantly for the past few weeks.

People who would ordinarily never be seen anywhere but their couch or perhaps the mall took to the trails and conservation areas in droves, gathering in groups, walking 2 or more abreast on trails, and not making space for others to safely pass. 

Singletrack got its name for a reason.

Had these folks gone out as single-home-dwelling parties only and offered the cushion of space required to avoid the possibility of infecting others, I would have welcomed them to the joys of experiencing nature on our beautiful trails. Instead, their lack of care and respect has meant that no-one gets to play in the woods in some of my most treasured spots anymore.

It's particularly difficult to find any hills worth training on that aren't paved.

I am also rather crotchety about all those complaining about being home all the time. As someone designated an "essential" employee, I'm grateful to still have a steady source of income...but as I'm still required to head to the office almost every day (I worked from home a total of 5 days in March - 3 of which were due to being ill - and none yet in April), and putting in very long hours due to the increased workload trying to ensure that our clients and their employees get all the necessary paperwork they need to apply for EI and other benefits, I rather envy you the luxury of boredom.

I'm exhausted, and have lost most of my outlets for stress relief on the trails.

This way lies happiness...and mud.

However, there are a precious few places left that I can get my trail fix. 

Though I'm loath to tell anyone where they are.

For the moment, we're still allowed freedom of movement away from our homes. While there's now the threat of a $100,000 fine and/or incarceration for using playgrounds, sports fields, or other outdoor recreation facilities like tennis or basketball courts, our provincial government has not yet closed access to green spaces and pathways, nor instituted a shelter-in-place order.

Yet.

So I beseech you: please consider others when you leave your home. To save lives AND our dwindling access to natural places, please only go out with those from your household and offer everyone no less than 6 feet of space. Be aware when using sidewalks, paths, and trails - no-one wins when you fail to make appropriate room, and we all stand to lose even more.

Heading to work on Monday is a lot easier to bear after some trail therapy on Sunday.

Be safe, be considerate, and be well.