Mastery

It was a somewhat significant week.

Cue dramatic photo

I started off worried, because my adorable little not-a-kitten-anymore Fionn (who turned 1 year old last week) managed to hurt his leg and has been on the limp since Sunday.

Though he did get to enjoy some sun and fresh air anyway,

I finally got to see a sports medicine doctor on Monday the 15th about that click in my foot at Sunburn Solstice. On the bright side, it doesn't seem to be a stress fracture - on the less bright side, I didn't really get any answers about what the click might have been. He had me rise up on my toes and walk around a bit, squeezed my foot in a couple of different ways, and was slightly dismayed at the difference between my two feet after the catastrophic injury last year. It seems the transverse/metatarsal arch on my left foot is collapsing, and it was suggested that I try an orthotic (which is not really a road I want to go down), or at least some metatarsal pads. I mentioned that I had seen a taping application for a midfoot injury, and the good doctor was very supportive of me trying it. Other than that, I was told to go see my favourite physiotherapist (for which I'm out of insurance coverage for the year) and not much else.

The taping application.

I ended up taking Monday off running, then was back at it with my taped-up foot on Tuesday.

When it rained sideways for the first 5mins, then the sun came back out to ensure it stayed unbearably hot and humid.

While the tape felt kind of nice - sort of like a hug for my foot - it didn't actually seem to do anything helpful. I stripped it off before I showered that evening, went to bed...and then woke up 40 years old.

I didn't really do anything to mark the day I became a Masters athlete, though to the surprise of probably no-one I did go for a run on my favourite Mississauga trails after work.

Water levels were a teensy bit high for creek yoga this week - you couldn't even see the rocks I usually stand on!

My birthday present from Mother Nature was the discovery of a massive bush absolutely dripping with perfect, ripe wild raspberries! Despite being right on a paved pathway behind a residential area just north of Burnhamthorpe, it seemed completely untouched - not even the squirrels or bunnies looked to have been nibbling.

I filled my hand bottle's pocket and still left loads of ripe berries behind!

Then, because my life is nothing if not full of annoying twists, I got myself trapped in a construction site.

Who could resist that gap in the fence?

Crap - ok, I guess I'll go back and cross the bridge to come out by the community centre..

CRAP

I ended up having to go back out the way I'd come, message Tanker to meet me in a different spot than we'd agreed on, climb a *bonus hill* up to Mississauga Valley Drive, and all told run an extra kilometer (and take almost an extra 45mins) on top of what I'd planned.

I did eventually make it to my mum's to visit and share my bounty of raspberries.

Not to mention the dairy-free Haagen-Dasz ice cream bars I picked up, as I ended up meeting Tank at a grocery store.

So apparently I haven't got any smarter with the conclusion of another trip 'round the sun - I may now be a Masters athlete, but I don't really feel like I've mastered anything. Nor do I feel any wiser, more settled, or in any way like I expected to as a 40 year old woman.

Hell - I even wore booty shorts for last night's still-hot-as-balls run.

On the bright side, I also don't feel as dull and stodgy as my middle aged status would suggest. I may be a bit more of a weenie about hurting myself than I was in my teens and twenties, but that's not to say I've lost my sense of adventure entirely.

I tried a new route through the singletrack trails on the way to the market on Saturday, which included some bushwhacking and doubling back.

..and I dangled my feet over a ledge high above the Grand River.

I may have a few more aches and pains than I did when I first began to run at age 29, but I've also seen and experienced so many more beautiful things along the way.

Like this bit of perfection in my own backyard.

I don't feel obliged to act my age - I'll keep on paddling my board and rocking a bikini if I damn well please.

My ink needs to breathe sometimes, y'know.

As hackneyed as it is to declare that "age is just a number", I figure the time to start acting like an adult will be when I actually feel like one. While I do have to take care of responsible things on occasion, I've not yet come to a point where the allure of calm predictability outweighs the temptations of chaotic, messy, and possibly risky diversions from the straight, narrow path of adult life.

I'm not over the hill, but I'm willing to hike up it.

So just like my little Fionn - who doesn't seem to realise he's not a kitten anymore - I'll keep chasing whatever seems like fun at the time, until it doesn't seem fun anymore.

And hopefully just like him, I'll bounce back from my latest injury.

Have a great weekend, folks!

Meandering

Have I ever told you what my favourite part is about running?

Here's a big hint.

Sure, it's a great way to strengthen your cardiovascular system and bone structure, and of course it does a decent job of keeping me from getting fat(ter). For some people it's a social activity - getting out with a friend (or group) for a run can be lots of fun. You can raise money for great causes, or simply get some "me" time to decompress from a stressful day.

My favourite part, though, is exploring.

Particularly on some of the lesser-traveled trails.

One of the things I missed the most this spring - whilst trying to recover from my devastating (and sort of ongoing) ankle injury - was the ability to just take off into the woods to chase some sketchy line I'd spotted on a map, or see what lies beyond some tiny trailhead I'd noticed while driving past. I'm incredibly grateful to have rebuilt my fitness to the point that I am largely able to set off for points unknown, confident that I'll be able to explore as much as I desire. 

Ooh - where does this go?

I know that I could do so simply by hiking, but even at my fairly glacial training paces I'm able to see so much more than I would simply by walking.

More views like this? Yes, please.

I actually put this all into action on Sunday, when I decided to go run a bit of trail on the outskirts of Riverside Park that I hadn't seen in a few years.

On a beautiful sun-drenched evening.

It clearly isn't a very popular route to get out the east end of the park on the north side of the Speed River.

Just a titch overgrown in places.

The groomed ease of the Mill Run Trail on the south side of the river certainly gets much more traffic, but most of my alternate route was flowing and non-technical.

I could run stuff like this forever.

It gave a whole new set of views of the river, too, as it wound along its bank above the northern arm of this divided section of the Speed.

Sun and shade and a river to the right.

Of course, it didn't all go perfectly - it turns out that a hundred metres or so near the eastern terminus are more bog than trail.

Grateful I wore wool socks and shoes with excellent drainage.

I have to wonder whether this section would be better or worse in the frozen depths of winter.

I may have to come back and see!

All too soon, I reached the end of this little diversion at the park entrance off Speedsville Road.

Umm, they might want to think about extending that boardwalk...by a LOT.

While this was just a tiny bit of trail - I ran most of the Mill Run Trail out from the other side of Speedsville and back to the park to net a mere 8km - but the distance wasn't the point. It's the glorious freedom to set off wherever my feet end up taking me, to find new routes and experiences along the way.

Happiness.

If you're stuck in a rut, tramping the same old routes week in and week out, I strongly encourage you to do a bit of investigating and find yourself a new place to discover. While it's important to do the training necessary to prepare for upcoming races, almost every schedule should allow you an easy day once in awhile to go explore a new place and see what kind of beauty you can unearth either far from home or right under your nose.

Seeing is believing

I've only managed to run 820km so far this year. It should be around twice that number, but injuries suck, especially when they rob you of your confidence. I've had a lot of trouble with my brain telling me awful things about myself over the past months, and it gets difficult to cope with at times.

I'm only 38 - I can't be in the sunset days of my running adventures, can I?

I've struggled some with body image, since the lack of training has left me a few pounds heavier than I'd like to be - things don't fit the way I'm used to, and it's discouraging to put on an outfit you love and discover it's too snug to hang properly. Mostly, though, I've struggled with feeling weak when I work so very hard to be strong, and that leaves me questioning my competence...and not just in running, either.

A few photos have recently helped me see that maybe it's not as bad as I think, though, so I am going to unabashedly post them here.

Tanker took this one on Canada Day while I enjoyed a sublime evening paddle on Lake Erie. When I threw on those bikini bottoms I felt like I bulged out over them horribly and everyone would laugh at the chubby chick with the muffin top flailing her way around on a board. While yes, there's a bit of extra insulation there, what shines out to me in this photo is the strength in my quads - the same strength I felt was slipping away from me as I limp my way through this season of running beset by pain and frustration. Despite the hours I've spent lifting and even running a recent ultra, I didn't know I still had those quads.

This is another example of a photo that surprised me with the visible strength in my legs. I was just trying on a pair of board shorts at MEC and took this photo to send to Tanker.

Those calves, thighs and butt don't look like someone who has been slacking off in their training. They look like someone who has spent years building strength and endurance through forward motion. It can be hard to feel like that person these days, but the truth was there in the mirror if only I'd take the time (and get my mind right) to look.

The last photos are actually unrelated to running, but is still tie directly into the theme of confidence in my own competence. My motorcycle has been running like junk for the last couple of years - hard to start, stalling when coming off the throttle, and with a horribly uneven idle when it's warm. I thought I had the idle problem licked after a clutch adjustment (it had to be done at the motor - I was out of adjustment at the lever), but it returned despite improved shifting. The throttle was also sticky; I'd have to manually roll it off when shifting from 2nd to 3rd or the motor would stay revved, which is hard on the bike.

My poor girl deserves better.

The last thing I could try before sending it off to a licensed mechanic for untold hundreds of dollars of diagnostic and repair work was a valve adjustment. It's specced every 24,000km, the bike has almost 68,000km on it, and apart from the initial adjustment after the break-in period (around 1,500km) I think I'd only done one other maintenance adjustment around 27,000km. So, the poor girl was definitely due.

The problem is that it's about a 5 hour procedure that takes quite a bit of skilled wrench work, and I didn't know if I was still up to the job. It's been years since I attempted anything terribly challenging on a bike - I think the last delicate procedure was installing a set of forward controls on Tanker's bike all the way back in September of 2015.

On a horribly hot day, in someone else's garage, with a somewhat hodgepodge selection of tools..

Knowing that we had a big trip coming up, I had to pull on my big girl panties and get after it. There is a lot of frustration involved in the valve adjustment: there's no bloody clearance, which makes it difficult to even get the valve covers off, and once you do it's nigh impossible to get a feeler gauge under the tappets (they have to be bent into a lazy Z-shape in order to sneak under there)...but I actually managed it.

Just enough space for my fingers between the frame and the rear cylinder intake valve cover.

The front cylinder inner exhaust valve is about the only one you can properly see.

There was a lot of swearing, loads of cursing the Suzuki engineers who designed this nightmare, and one I-hadn't-eaten-for-8-hours tantrum when it looked like I'd be unable to remove one valve cover due to a stripped bolt head (8mm hex heads with no clearance? REALLY?)...but walking away for 10mins and having a snack got me sorted out enough to finish it up. I even did some cleaning & lubrication of the throttle body while I had her tank off.

She looks so sad without her tank and saddle..

When she was finally all back together at 10:30pm, I didn't even have the guts to start her up to give it all a listen. I'd had to go very carefully just to get everything rebuilt the way it should be: flywheel cover, inspection port cover & valve covers re-installed; pair valve hose re-attached; tank & wiring harness re-connected and bolted down; gauge cluster re-connected and bolted back in place...all while thoroughly exhausted. If I started her up and it was clear I'd somehow made things worse, or if she wouldn't start for some reason, I would have collapsed into a sobbing heap...so I just waited until the next day when I had no choice, as I had to warm her up in order to do an oil change as well.

Blood transfusion time!

Fortunately, while a little on the loud side (I set the clearances a little loose, as I feel it's better to lose some top-end power with loose valves than to risk burning a valve by having them too tight), my hard work seems to have done the trick. She started up much more easily than she has in ages, and after the oil changes on both bikes we took them out for a ride.

Let's go already!

The variable idle is gone. She doesn't belch black smoke when I really dig into the throttle. She honestly feels fantastic - like I got my girl back. The throttle doesn't stick anymore, either!

Almost like I knew what the hell I was doing.

So, as we head out this Sunday on an adventure filled with uncertainties - motorcycle touring alone can be a bit chaotic, let alone camping and attempting to climb some mountains along the way - I can look at these photos and feel just a bit less like the weak, pathetic, hapless idiot my mind wants me to believe I am.

Listen here: I even managed to take a photo while STANDING UP on my board on Sunday evening!

And I'm bringing my running shoes along, because there's this:

Waterfront trail section near our first night's campsite

And this:

Trail in Parc National du Mont-Tremblant

And this:

View from a trail near our campsite in Parc National de la Jacques-Cartier

So you'll be spared my sniveling for a week while I go use my confidence to ride my newly improved bike to some beautiful places, then let these strong legs carry me to see some incredible things. I'm grateful to have the strength and competence to go explore our amazing world in these ways, even if I sometimes lose sight of my own worth.

I'm also grateful to have someone around to remind me, even when I don't listen very well.

He's always got my back.