Failures

 We all have stuff we rely on.

Like the sun going down in the evening, and returning the next morning
(well, except at extreme latitudes)

Last Saturday, I had three things I depend on pretty heavily let me down. The first was my Garmin, which had actually started messing up on Thursday: I had plugged it into my laptop to clear out the old workout data, and an update had installed via Garmin Express. Cool, cool...except when I ran afterward, I got some seriously funky data out of it.

Those blue bits on the map? My watch apparently thought I was stopped, though it kept recording my progress and position.
You can also see dots in the bottom part that indicate it was taking cadence readings...but they were all zero, despite my daily step count increasing steadily through the run

I had hoped it was just a freak thing and would resolve itself, but come Saturday morning it was still pulling the same crap.

I didn't notice until later that it had also messed up a couple of other daily metrics like sleep and energy tracking from Thursday afternoon to Saturday

Fortunately, I don't put that much stock in my Garmin data, and it all resolved after I plugged it back in to my laptop and it installed another update. This took a bit of time and was a little frustrating, but was definitely the least clutch of the failures.

That run down to the market Saturday morning? It caused a much more concerning failure: my phone.

Source of almost 100% of the photos I post, here and anywhere else

It was a frosty one - base air temperature of -20c (-4f) with windchill of -28c (-18f). I was bundled up pretty solidly, and was keeping my phone in the back pocket of my jacket to keep it warm.

My mainstay winter running jackets (I have both red and black of the same model/year) are intended to be cycling jackets, and have cycling jersey-like pockets at the lower back, which is one of the warmest and best protected places to keep anything in extreme cold weather

I was running down the multi-use trail portion beside a roadway with forest on the far side, and saw a huge whitetail deer go bounding out of the woods, across the road, and toward the river just before the trail veers off into trees. I paused at the spot to see if I could find the deer on the wetland plain, taking a shot of the tracks where it had crossed the paved path but unable to see the majestic creature itself.

You can tell by the splaying of its hooves how heavily it had landed, and on the right you can see some of the myriad other tracks I found just a few feet away

I also flipped the camera around to get a shot of my own frosted-up face.

I'd only been out about 30mins so far

..and then my phone shut down. That's not unusual in deep cold: once I get it warmed back up, it's generally just fine. So, I stuck it back in my pocket and kept going. 

I tried pulling it out again a few minutes later, because I wanted to get photos of the most ridiculous ice I think I've ever seen on this particular trail. My screw shoes were struggling trying to bite into the incredibly hard-frozen surface, and as soon as I got my camera app started my phone just noped out again.

I came back later in the day with Tank to show him and get some shots

By leaving it in my pocket for a good 15-20mins while I ran along, I manage to coax it back to life toward the end of my journey so I could snap a pic or two in the brilliant sunshine.

It was a really beautiful day, as long as you were dressed right

While losing a few photo opportunities was frustrating, I wouldn't really count this as a failure if that were the only outcome. However, once I'd re-warmed my poor phone after the run, it was still declining to a) recognize the SD card inserted in it, and b) make noise. The former issue I could probably have lived with, but since my phone is my alarm clock as well as a means of communication, its stubborn silence was worrisome! Restarting hadn't solved it, and I feared that I might have to replace it; it's a bit elderly and certainly not in the best condition, but the device I want to succeed it hasn't been released yet, and I didn't really have time that day to make an attempt anyway.

Fortunately, it found its voice again after I carefully shut it down, left it powered off and plugged in for a few minutes, then said a few encouraging words as it rebooted. This all happened at approximately the same time I sorted out my Garmin, so it seemed like I was good to go for my second run!

Begun just after my walk with Tanker to check out the ice, and about 25 minutes after sunset

I'd worn my full running kit under some warm outer layers for the hike (namely, a down jacket and long insulated skirt that I could easily remove before the run), including my trail shoes and spikes as I'd known I would be on ice. As I set off into the woods from the trailhead at a trot, I soon noticed that my spikes sounded more jingly than usual, and seemed a bit looser than I'd expect. As I ran down a big, ice-covered hill, I was a bit confused by a slight sensation of slip on my right foot: I could hear and feel the spikes biting into the ice, so how could I be slipping? It definitely wasn't confidence inspiring, but it didn't seem to be catastrophic - I still had good traction, and I didn't think there was much I could do in pitch dark at -14c (7f) with nothing but my mittens and a handheld light I was trying out.

Which also made this about the worst possible time for me to have an equipment failure

When I got home, I pulled off my spikes to see what the issue was - a brief inspection of the ones from my right shoe quickly revealed the source of the trouble.

Well there's your problem..

Fortunately - after a bit of a false start - I was able to fashion a replacement link out of a cotter pin.

Far from pretty, but hopefully functional?

I confirmed that I'd got good data from my Garmin from the run, though, so it seemed like I'd managed to sort out all three of the issues that had cropped up! 

I took the repaired spikes out for a test drive on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at Shade's Mills, rambling around the sun-drenched forest and trying to avoid crunching my new link off any protruding rocks on the trails.

It wouldn't occur to me until much later that the deep cold might have been the culprit in the case of the broken link

Fortunately everything seemed to hold up, and I had a really enjoyable run!

Unlike the people I saw there trying to hike without traction devices - they were making rather heavy weather of it

The sunshine was most welcome, as were the milder temperatures - it was still -5c (23f), but that felt nearly tropical compared to the day before.

Though the idea of a dip at the beach wasn't really any more inviting!

I got a second run in after dark, too, on much sketchier trail than I had intended considering I was still unsure about the durability of my makeshift cotter pin link.

#Didn'tDie

I inspected the link carefully again afterward, but it seems to be going strong! I haven't noticed any signs of wear or fatigue on it, but I've ordered another set to be sure - the ones I buy aren't terribly expensive, and I'd rather have a new pair for bigger, higher-risk ventures (though I'll likely keep running in the repaired ones for short, easy-to-bail-from jaunts). 

Their journey isn't at an end just yet

So, while it was frustrating to be feel let down by three devices in one day, I'm pretty pleased I was able to implement solutions that allowed me to continue on using them - even if I may need to be a bit more cautious about a couple of them in future. 

It felt quite apropos to find this scrawled in the beach sand at Shade's Mills on Sunday afternoon

I wish you all a trouble-free weekend - have fun out there, and be safe!

Shaken Snowglobe

 For newcomers here, hi! It's 100 runs in 100 days season, so I basically run twice a day each Saturday and Sunday.

Also: I'm sorry you've reached a point in your life where you feel my blog is the best thing you have to read right now. I hope things improve very soon, and in the meantime I'll try to include pretty pictures!

Saturday - apart from the blistering cold in the morning as I ran down to the farmers' market - was relatively uneventful.

Though did include this spectacularly frozen waterfall in the morning, and the stunning sunset above in the evening

The trails, though, were covered in ice - it was difficult for my screw shoes to get traction in the morning due to the deep cold (it was something like -14c), and while it warmed significantly through the day (to about -1c by evening), spikes were definitely required. To make matters worse, freezing rain began to fall that night, and with temperatures expected to climb above 0c on Sunday I anticipated slush. The wind was also howling terribly throughout the day, which led to me procrastinating about running - even the first run - until late in the afternoon, when I finally got myself kitted up and headed down the hill to a little tract nearby.

In spikes again, because the cold wind meant everything was still treacherously icy

The clouds had broken apart as I dressed, and I arrived just as the sun dropped behind the trees.

It looked like it would be a beautiful evening

The wind still whipped powerfully through the forest, with gusts producing alarming creaks and cracks over the cronch-cronch-cronch of my spikes biting into the ice below my feet. 

Please forgive my shoddy camera work!

I finished up in the last of the daylight - a few cedar-lined metres of trail had to be run on faith alone, as I couldn't really see - with a bright moon riding high above.

Just a few little puffs of cloud to catch the warm sunset hues

The way out - a shining ribbon of ice leading into the darkness of the woods

My plan was simple: drive the handful of minutes home, have a snack while I waited the requisite hour between the finish of one run and start of the next, then run point-to-point so I could escape the worst effects of the still-powerful wind from the west. I'm incredibly fortunate to have my amazing husband Tanker on board with these ridiculous ideas: he'd drive to the other end of the trail, go for a bit of a hike of his own, then wait for me to appear to drive me home. My end of the bargain is just to plod along from one place to another.

Things looked marginally more complicated as we reached the top of the hill on which we live, mere moments after that clear moonlit sky - we suddenly found ourselves in a blizzard!

Safely home...but what did this mean for the second run?

It was a bit more than an hour before I set out once more - in a warmer, dry shirt under a dry jacket, and with a headlamp on my toque-layered head. The temperature had fallen again, but the snow had stopped; the skies, however, were thick with low clouds that reflected the light from the suburbia surrounding the trail.

The headlamp was just along for the ride

I ran (and walked, on weary legs made heavier by the spikes still slipped over my shoes) upriver and downwind.

Towering freeway lights in the distance like false moons below the clouds

As I reached the one section of trail that would take me briefly into the teeth of the wind, the snow began to fall once more.

I guess I shouldn't have worn my "Let it Snow" toque!

Crossing the bridge over the river, it picked up from flurry to squall, and the headlights of an oncoming car danced with thick flakes illuminated in their beams.

..and falling in silent legions into the river below

As I trotted and trudged through the final section of trail, the swirling mass of snow about me had reached whiteout proportions. I tried turning my headlamp on for a moment while paused, and immediately turned it back off again.

At least I could mostly see without it - with it on, I was nearly blind

Despite running downwind, the sheer volume of snow in the air meant it started to cling and drift on me - on the brim of the hat I wore beneath my toque, on my shoulders, on the fuzzy nose wipe material on the thumbs of my mittens. 

I'd be lucky if Tank recognized me to give me a ride, rather than trying to cut off my arm with a lightsaber

The squall was relentless, and I was forced to move even slower as the blanket of white hid the roots and depressions in the trail, making even spiked footing a bit treacherous.

The trail is mostly groomed, but there are still a few things that could send me sprawling

In the end, it took me forty two minutes to "run" just over five and a half kilometers - nearly fifty, if I include time spent stopped, either catching my breath or marveling at the storm. I came upon Tanker at the eastern trailhead, vigorously engaged in brushing snow off the car: nearly 3cm (more than an inch) had fallen in the thirty-ish minutes since it began. 

There was only one thing left to do..

Let's test the snow depth a little..

As I tried to stand, I found my fleece skirt and even my braid had frozen to the ground! It was a bit of an effort to get up, but I was able to regain my feet and survey my work by the headlights of the car.

Remember how there had only been the merest skiff of snow during my first run, just 2hrs before?

Then it was time to try to brush myself off before I carried an entire drift into the car with me.

I've never been so grateful to have a thermos of hot chocolate waiting for me!

I'm grateful that I was able to safely get through such a wild experience - it was truly awesome to be in the thick of such a storm, to have it swirl around me while everyone with any sense was holed up indoors. I wouldn't advocate for doing it on purpose as I'd hate for anyone to have a bad outcome, but it was something I'll definitely remember for some time!

The real kicker? Within five minutes of leaving the trailhead, there was no longer a flake in the sky. The snowglobe had settled once more.

Give'er

 I know that nobody wanted to go end their holiday season with renewed pandemic restrictions.

Not what anyone needs in the dark of winter

..but as much this could be seen as another roadblock, I hope you can find it in yourself to give'er this year. 

Not an incitement to buy stuff from Give'r, but they do make some great things!

What I mean is, I hope you can find something this year into which you throw yourself passionately, no matter how unprepared or unskilled you may feel. Don't think about it too much - just give'er.

Don't psych yourself out about it - just GO!

I hope you do stuff that scares you.

(This felt about 100 feet high while I was up there)

I hope you give'er in the sun..

However fleeting it may be

I hope you give'er in the dark..

Headlamp optional

I hope you find something that moves you

Wanna get strong? Give'er

Wanna get your first pull-up? Give'er

Want better balance? Give'er

I don't care if it's cross-stitch or calligraphy or rowing or running or learning to speak a new language - I just want you to give'er!

Want to get into photography, or study crystalline structures? Give'er

Stoke comes and goes - you're not always going to be super excited to do whatever it is.

No-one wakes up every morning with their heart on fire

..but even if you're not really feeling it, you can always choose to give'er.

Couple of hours after my booster vaccine - not feeling 100%, but still givin'er

If the last few years have taught me anything, it's that you never know what can happen if you just shrug your shoulders and throw yourself into stuff.

Enough snow for a snow angel? Give'er and find out!

The end result doesn't have to be perfection. You can always try again!

Doing something - even if you feel a bit silly - always beats doing nothing

So don't let the snow and cold deter you, and definitely don't let the new restrictions get you too down.

There's still so much to see and do, even with winter and closures about!

So whatever you do, don't just sit there

Though I grant that you may want to pause now and then..

Just find your thing - whatever it may be - and give'er!

You can bet I'll be out there givin'er, too!

And if it turns out that's not your thing after all, well - find something else, and give'er a go!

Happy new year all!