Streaky

I usually take Fridays off running.

A little rest never hurt anyone, but the lack of it certainly has.

From Christmas Eve up until today, though, I ended up running straight through. A thirteen day streak isn't much compared to what some people choose to do (I have a friend who ran every day for more than 30 years), but since my running gait can best be described as "shambling along" and I'm rather - ahem - attractive to gravity, my poor old factory seconds body likes a little break from the pounding here are there.

..and some soft surfaces, please.

I had run my usual Saturday to Thursday - December 24th to 29th - and had every intention of taking a rest day on Friday the 30th. I'd put in a double on Christmas Eve in fairly nasty cold (it was -15c/5f with a windchill closer to -27c/-17f).

My wool neck gaiter froze solid as I ran down to the farmers' market that morning

We had a winter storm that had begun as rain, then turned to ice with a thick layer of sandy snow overtop that was absolutely beautiful, but took a lot of effort to run through.

Canadian beach running

It was fun not needing a headlamp for the second run after dark, though - the glow from the city reflecting on the cloudcover provided just enough light for a groomed trail.

Honestly one of my favourite things about winter

Christmas morning was still cold - it was -9c/16f - so the ugly sweater was worn over a jacket and I wore a second pair of mittens under my fleece ones with the sleigh bells stitched on for my first snowshoe run of the season!

Pre-burning Christmas dinner calories

Boxing Day brought a lovely cross-country ski with Tank, then another run through Narnia as the snow still remained firmly stuck to the branches in the more sheltered spots.

We so seldom get this sort of scene, and it's usually so fleeting!

The 27th brought another snowshoe run - trying to take advantage with a big warm-up in the weather predicted - in the new hat that Tank bought me for Christmas.

You can get your own - and any number of other hilarious running- and non-running-related items from Semi-Rad - here

Wednesday the 28th brought reality back for Tank: that poor fellow had to work, while I was lucky enough to have the whole week off between Christmas and New Year's. You'd think that would make it easy to get out any time I wanted for a run, but I actually missed almost all of the daylight while working on odds and ends that needed doing. With Tank out of town with our vehicle I couldn't make it to a trail, so just ran on the roads instead. Sound pretty dull, right?

Wrong.

The next morning was an early one, as I was making another trip into Mississauga to help out my mum: this meant I needed to be ready to leave the house with Tank by 7:30am, which is a terrible thing to pull on a human on holidays. Still, not only did I make it, but I actually got to explore a beautiful new trail as well!

The Sawmill Valley Trail is gorgeous!

I'd put in a decent amount of mileage in that 6-day block: almost 50km, which is more than I've averaged weekly in 2022. I had every intention of giving myself an easy day on Friday the 30th, which was also the one day of my holiday break I fully intended to do almost nothing at all: I had a new book I wanted to read, and just be a cozy lump in our lazyboy chair.

The universe had other ideas.

When we got home from Mississauga Thursday evening, we found our sweet kitty Esme in poor shape: our normally ravenous girl was refusing food and treats, vomiting foam, and hiding in our bedroom closet. Tank had to work on Friday, so I was home alone with her, fretting the whole time. Tank managed to get off work early, and I had phoned our veterinarian (who fortunately has fantastic hours), so we took our Shmoo for a checkup.

Several hundred dollars later, with Esme had been given subcutaneous fluids and an anti-nausea injection, then we went home to await bloodwork results.

The weather was awful: rainy and right around the freezing mark, as though the very atmosphere was crying for our poor girly. The anti-nausea meds must have worked, as she began to eat and drink again, and stopped hiding away from us. With her safely snuggled onto Tank's lap, I made the decision to head out: I was too agitated from worrying about her all day, and sometimes things make more sense when the stuff in my brain has been jostled around a bit.

So I ran.

New Year's Eve saw us stopping by the vet's office to pick up a new, specialized (and very expensive) food that was recommended for Esme's health: it seems as though she may have had a nasty attack of pancreatitis, which is something I'd wondered about for awhile as she has had periodic spells of poor health for most of the five and a half years she's been with us after we adopted her straight off the streets of Guelph in 2017. We also consented to an additional test on the blood sample they had taken to rule out some other issues, and brought home some more anti-nausea meds in case she needed them. She was back to her usual hungry girl self again, though certainly still moving a bit more slowly than usual.

Once Esme was snoozling away in a soft kitty bed, I got out for a run at Huron Natural Area, and had the stark realization that running through the sunset when there's no snow on the ground is a much different experience than when winter paints all the trails white.

I was moving pretty slowly toward the end as I hadn't brought a headlamp and could barely see when I was putting my feet

Out of habit - it was Saturday after all - I did a second run, this time with all the lights provided for me.

Waterloo Park puts on a show each December

There's a huge variety of light displays, some of which are animated

Some of which are free-standing

..and some of which invite interaction!

That was my last run of 2022, which gave me 2,188.2km/1,359.7mi for the year - a lot lower than usual, but some injury issues prevented me from doing much more, and I only ran once during the fortnight we were away in Scotland. Nevertheless, I'd put in almost 230km/143mi in December, so I wasn't slacking off at the end!

We'll call it cause for a small celebration

The new year got off to a decent start with 11-ish kilometers on a trail I hadn't run in some time.

I remembered it being slightly less swimmable

I was back to work on Monday the 2nd, but Tank had the day off, which meant I had a vehicle available! I took full advantage, fleeing my desk around 3pm to go soak up the last bit of sun that would shine for the next few days.

Soft trail, mild weather, and daylight - heaven!

The rest of this week has been nothing but dark, rainy, chilly night runs, though. As I plow through trying to catch up after the holidays plus the intensity that is month end at work, I don't think I've set foot out the door before 9pm Tuesday through Thursday.

Cement, pavement, dark, and drippy - it's like the polar opposite of Monday's trail joy

My right ankle is grouchy and I'm so very tired, but today I finally got my Friday off running today after 13 days and 102.8km/63.9mi in 15 runs. While an average of 6.86km/4.26mi per run is not much, it has certainly been enough to prove to me that I'm still not the right person for a long run streak, or at least not right now. 

Nonetheless, I made it through, and I hope you have survived your holidays unscathed as well!

Happy New Year everyone!

Now, if only we can convince the sun to come back..

Not what I used to be

 It was 9am on a beautiful winter's morning, just after Christmas.

There was snow on the branches, and sun on the snow - a perfect winter wonderland

A text came in from a friend - was I up for a snowshoe hike that afternoon? We'd been trying to get together for a walk for ages, but various things had got in the way. So, I jumped at the opportunity for some safe, outdoor, responsibly-distanced fun, and we made a date for around 2:30pm.

For a couple of hours of snowy, woodsy rambling

There was a problem, though: rain was predicted to start that evening, and wash all that lovely snowpack away. Much as I love snowshoeing, I hadn't got my cross-country skis out yet this season, and it's tougher to find good enough snow to ski on than it is to find snow for snowshoeing. Plus I needed to get out for a run (because 100 in 100), so this was all going to have to be a bit tactical.

Esme, though, was not feeling any particular sense of urgency while we had a bite to eat.

Tanker was sweet enough to load up our skis and poles in the car, then we got changed into kit and set off for the Beaverdale Road trailhead of the Mill Run Trail. The car gave us a bit of a scare with a very difficult start - we were starting to fear for the battery before the engine finally caught - but fortunately ran perfectly afterward. We arrived just after noon, and if you're thinking that 3 hours is a lot of time to get ready and be at a trailhead 10mins from home, well...heck it, I was on holidays. 

It may also have taken me around 30mins just to figure out what I needed to wear

Conditions on the trail were fantastic - we'd been concerned about sticky snow with temperatures around the freezing mark, but since the passage of lots of feet ahead of us had packed things down significantly we were getting pretty solid glide.

Except when we ventured a bit off piste..

We skied out about 2km west to Speedsville Road, and I was starting to feel it a bit - it's almost like I was taking part in a sport in which I'd had zero practice for 11 months or something..

Imagine that!

By the time we returned to the car - a little more than 45mins later, as I'd been stopping lots to take photos of the snowy trail - my whole body was letting me know that 4km was plenty for the first ski of the year. 

I was just delighted to have got one in, and to share it with my sweetheart!

Then, of course, I shucked off my wind vest, insulated skirt, and ski boots - I threw on a pair of running shoes, and took off at twenty past one in the opposite direction to the section we'd skied, heading west toward Hespeler.

Across the ugly new bridge they put in last November - the wooden one was so much better suited to the trail!

I tried to strike a balance between my photographic appreciation of the snowy woods and trying to keep moving efficiently, as I knew I was a bit short on time..

But it was SO PRETTY

All told it took me just shy of 35mins to run a little more than 5km out to Guelph Avenue and back, with numerous compliments on my ugly Christmas sweater from other trail users.

It's just perfectly, festively hideous!

Jumping in the car with moments to spare before 2pm, I was very happy that I'd laid out my change of clothes for snowshoeing before we'd left. I ate the thermos full of oatmeal I'd prepared and left in the car while Tank drove us home, jumped into my dry apparel, and was back out the door by 2:30pm...having let my friend know I'd be a few minutes late.

The snow hadn't gone anywhere yet, though!

My snowshoes were strapped on and we set off into the woods by 2:50pm, having our breath taken away by the gorgeous scenery, the lingering sunshine, and occasionally the hills.

The sun lined up just perfectly down one particular corridor

The temperatures had stayed fairly mild - only about -2c - so it was comfortable to be out with minimal insulation as long as you were moving a bit.

Elf hat optional.

Ninety or so minutes and nearly 6km later, the sun was starting to fade..

..and so was I.

Back to my car - which fortunately had performed perfectly after the one morning hiccup, and didn't even get stuck! - I thanked my friend for a fun hike, bade them goodbye, and headed home. I finally got to drink the cup of coffee I'd quickly made while getting changed (delighted to find it still hot thanks to one of my incredible collection of insulated vessels; if you go outdoors in winter, you owe it to yourself to get a great thermos that will keep a beverage hot for you to enjoy when you're done), and ate the granola bar I'd stuck in my pocket.

I arrived back at the house by 4:30pm, had a salad and a hot shower, and went for a little 20min walk around our neighbourhood with Tank. By the time 8pm rolled around, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open! That's when I finally figured out that I'd sort of accidentally put in over 3 hours of self-propelled time since noon that day.

And also carried around a little extra weight here and there.

I hadn't had a day that full of motion since early November, and certainly not since (probably) contracting Covid in early December. While my symptoms were never more than a bit of a cold, it's now been over a month since the virus came home and I still have a bit of drippy nose in the morning, plus an occasional wheeze in my throat. 

It occurred to me that my plan - to ski, run, then snowshoe hike all in an afternoon - had been born out of arrogance. I've barely done any runs over an hour this year, let alone put in the long training days to which I'd become accustomed in years past. I blithely assumed I could pursue 3 sports in a day with no repercussions, and was appropriately humbled (and worn the heck out!) by the attempt.

Still, I think it says a lot for the lasting quality of endurance adaptation that I was able to enjoy a long day on my feet at all, in spite of the year's de-training and while getting over an illness. To be honest I didn't even really feel the weight of the fatigue until I was in that hot shower afterward, when I swear it felt like the stream of water turned into a ton of bricks falling on me.

I suddenly felt as laden as this fallen tree, and just as much like laying down!

I was bright enough to give myself the grace to only run once the next day, offering at least a bit of recovery. Since then, I've tried to be a bit more aware of pushing myself as I really don't want to allow this idiot virus to regain a foothold. I have a long way to go (both literally and figuratively) to get back in ultra shape, and I'd rather not be the perpetrator of any of my own setbacks!

Still 100% worth it to have such a lovely day playing in the snow, though.

Wishing you all a happy new year, and hoping you've had a safe and enjoyable holiday season!

Listening

I'm trying to be slightly less of a jerk to my body.

With mixed results, as you shall see.

With Sunburn Solstice approaching like a freight train, it's finally time to take things down from peak mileage levels into a taper - while it's not actually my goal race for the year, it seems reasonable to try to rest my worn-out carcass a bit before trying to drag it 'round a 4km loop for more than 15 hours.

So, of course I took my rest day on Friday to relax..

By doing a full-body workout I've only done one other time this year.

I knew it would be a bad idea to get my paddleboard out, as we'd have to be up super early on Saturday...but the evening was so warm and lovely, I simply couldn't help myself. Tanker was happy to do some fishing on Puslinch Lake while I paddled, and I was filled with serene bliss at being out on the water again.

I did take a few minutes to just sit and relax, breathing in the calm of a perfect evening.

It as sunset when we got home, though, and much later than that before we finally rolled into bed. Up just after 6am, we hit the market (in the CAR!) and then jammed back home so I could send Tanker off to help the Happy Trails Racing team set up the full-service aid station at Conquer the Canuck before the race started at 8am.

Me? I hung back to make up a couple of breakfast bagels, which I then loaded into a pack...and then ran down to Shade's Mills Conservation Area to join in the fun.

It sounded good on paper.

I shouldn't have been surprised when my legs felt like crap - I'd had just over 6 hours of sleep (which is my usual amount during the week, but I do my best to get 8hrs on Friday & Saturday nights), and I knew one day of sort-of-rest wouldn't be enough to unwind the fatigue and soreness from almost 178km in the 13 days from Sulphur Springs to my lovely evening paddle. At the same time, I really could have done without the sun being quite so hot at 9am, the lack of shade subjecting me to its full blast, and the strong headwind I faced for most of the run down.

Most confoundingly on the ~3.5km span of Bishop Street from King to Franklin, which is almost all uphill.

I finally plodded my way down by around 10am, happy to finally find some shade along the park driveway...not to mention the thermos full of coffee Tanker had brought down with him.

Shade and caffeine are two of my favourite things.

From then until around 6pm, I tried to help as many people as I could achieve their goals at Conquer the Canuck. Filling bottles, chopping fruit, and offering up encouragement to the runners striving in the 8.33k (though most of those were finished by the time I arrived), 25k, 50k and 12-hour races - I was on my feet constantly, with only a few moments of down time here and there. I dodged out for half an hour or so in the evening to go pick up freshii for dinner for Tank and I, then headed out around 6:45pm to do a sweep lap of the course to see if there was any rubbish that needed picking up.

And just to enjoy the beauty of the trails.

That resulted in a grocery bag full of trash, and a total of almost 19km of running for me for the day. Once the 12-hour ended at 8pm, we scarfed our dinner, then headed over to the grocery store to get that chore out of the way. It was nearly 10pm by the time we got home, and I was absolutely shagged out. 

Sunday morning I kicked Tanker out of bed at 6:30am, and he got on his motorcycle to ride down to Shade's Mills for day 2 of volunteering - just the marathon event. I greedily tried to get back to sleep for a bit, but utterly failed to do so.

Though I did get to snuggle with these monsters, who graciously allowed me -just- enough space in bed.

I finally rolled out a little after 7am, made up a thermos of coffee and a couple of breakfast sandwiches, then got on my own bike and rolled on down.

Of course it was a cooler, overcast morning when I wasn't trying to run.

It was all about the runners again until around 1:30pm, when there were only a couple left on course. Then I got changed and headed out for another cleanup lap, happily coming back with much less trash this time!

But enjoying the trails just as much.

It was significantly hotter and more humid than the day before, and I suffered pretty badly even at the easy pace I was moving. I had originally thought I might try to get 2 laps in, but as fatigued and sore as I was, I only did one...well, plus the extra bit down to the beach and back for 9k. 

Let me tell you - I was completely spent after we got home. I was so happy we'd done our grocery shopping the day before, and I could just sit on the couch for awhile. This "taper" thing so far? Working about as well as taking 4 days off for a canoe trip. I had just enough energy left to take the kitties out for a sniff around the backyard..

Almost as lazy as I was.

I was dragging pretty badly at work on Monday and almost decided to nix my lunch run, but figured that's no way to behave, so went out anyway. It actually went better than expected, other than getting rained on...but afterward, my left foot was sore in a strange, new way. There'd been no incident on the run, but now it hurt to dorsiflex my foot or pull my toes up, and the pain was really odd; not like a sore muscle or bruise, but a weird feeling of weakness. Tendon? Nerve? I didn't know, but I hoped it would go away.

Tuesday morning it was still there. So, what did I do?

I'll give you 3 guesses.

It didn't hurt while running, or really at any time I had weight on the foot. It didn't seem to get worse, either, and seemed to have something to do with my 4th metatarsal. I could feel some connection to my 4th toe when I'd move it. I hoped that a couple of days of shorter mileage (just 6k-ish Monday & Tuesday) would sort it out.

It did not. It was as bad as ever on Wednesday morning, and something was sore at the outside of my knee - I wondered if I'd popped the fibula out of position, or knocked something else out of alignment. So, as I walked back to my office after seeing Tanker on his lunch break Wednesday afternoon, I popped into my chiropractor's office along the way to see if I could get an appointment for Monday or something. To my surprise, the receptionist said I could be seen right away! My chiro adjusted both of my feet: it was still feeling like I'd popped something out of place in my right foot on our Victoria Day trip, and he found my 1st metatarsal lifted a bit. He also found my left fibula out of place and adjusted it, plus did an adjustment on my back as he suspected my S1 was causing at least some of the trouble with my cranky left hamstrings. I wandered out 20mins later with high hopes, though the left foot didn't seem to have let up its grouchiness.

Eeeh, daisies.

Unfortunately, when I ran that evening (which was maybe not my best bet), my right foot actually felt somewhat worse and there seemed to be no change at all in my left foot.

A moment's peace in Cooksville Creek on Wednesday evening

So, I finally tried to get a little smarter. Hoping that this might just be a bit of extensor tendinitis brought on my tight calves, I resolved not to run yesterday. Having only 9 days to sort myself out before Sunburn Solstice, I gagged the voice in my head telling me I wouldn't be running Friday anyway, and took. A day. Off.

Well, not completely. I couldn't quite resign myself to just sitting on the couch, so I hit the pool for my first swim in almost 2 months.

Perhaps the universe decided to reward me for FINALLY GETTING A DAMN CLUE, because I awoke this morning with no pain in my left foot. Nothing. There's still some sensation there of stiffness in the 3rd and 4th toes, but I'm almost positive it's due to tight calves now - while I might have been able to resolve it without the extra day off, I'm actually perversely proud of myself for making the call not to run yesterday. 

Fionn the Fuzzy approves!

With any luck, these two days off will help the rest of the general fatigue and soreness resolve - while I have a run down to the market planned for tomorrow morning and a celebration run on Sunday, everything from here on out needs to be focused on getting me to the start line for 5:39am (blaaaaarrgh..) next Saturday as healthy as possible.

I'm even planning on taking TWO days off running next week. Mon dieu!

Perhaps I'm getting a little smarter about listening to my body? 

Nah, seems unlikely. Maybe I'll get my paddleboard out tomorrow..