Shelagh's Brush

 It's officially spring..

Things are even starting to turn green, or at least less brown!

..so let me tell you I was not at all in the mood for this:

NOT FUNNY

I mean, it's partially my own fault - I'd been ruing not having the chance to run in some new winter kit that had recently been delivered, so all of a sudden I was given ample opportunity. It snowed on Tuesday evening's run (above), and then hammered me with snow flurries as I ran up to the bank and back on Wednesday afternoon to make some work deposits.

..while wearing the new kit, which worked quite well.
(Ridge Merino's Crowley Tights & Convict Hoodie)

I mean, it's no surprise to anyone that we'd get a bit of snow in April; we were due one more dump, and I'd rather have it out of the way now than waiting til May (like last year). It just feels like a shock when it's been so lovely out, considering I've been out on my paddleboard twice already. 

..and the new growth poking its way through the drab brown landscape of a melted winter.

At least it was fairly pleasant for the weekend, so I could enjoy my run down to the market (on the trail above), and do some exploring of a trail that Tank and I have actually been chasing (in on-and-off fashion) for years now.

It turns out that doing it in daylight - and not in a howling snowstorm - is easier.

Who would've thought?

We even got out for a romp on our mountain bikes on Sunday for the first time in ages.

It turns out I remember how to ride over mud and roots and rocks!

Rollin' along the river

We're definitely not the ones getting the worst of the wintry blast, either - while out on our ride, we saw more than a dozen turtles out taking advantage of the sunshine and mild air!

Some of which appeared to be having a difficult time playing leapfrog
(not pictured: you'll have to get your turtle porn elsewhere)

Really I'm just bitter because it's not enough snow to snowshoe run on (or cross-country ski), and while it's been chilly there have still been bugs out. That's NOT FAIR; it should either be cold, or buggy. NEVER BOTH AT ONCE.

Of course, if I'd do more running and less "using a fallen tree as a balance beam", they might not bother me so much..

I am definitely still enjoying the sun being out much later in the day.

Even though I still seem to see it set quite frequently while running.

..I'm just dreaming of the hot summer days when I can spend hours on the water without worrying about hypothermia if I happen to fall off my paddleboard.

If I had to pick a place to die, though..

I know the warmth - and really, the unbearable heat and humidity - are coming. I'll just have to be patient, but I sure hope Sheila doesn't have any more tricks in store for us.

Shedding expectations

Seaton Soaker is tomorrow. I'm registered for the 50k - by the time I even tried to drop down to the 25k, I was told none of my registration fee would transfer and I'd have to pay full whack for entry into the 25k. Given that I'm on the hook for a couple of thousand dollars worth of storm damage, extra expenditures just aren't on the menu.

Because of this.

Just to add to the fun, I got a call from our neighbour up the street just before I left work on Friday to tell me about this:

Yikes.

Fortunately, since we're the house on the far left, there was no damage and we don't have to worry about getting rid of the enormous pine tree - it belongs to the neighbour two doors down, and the neighbour in the middle enlisted the younger generation of his family to clean it all up.

Less fortunately..

Oh, bloody hell..

Yep, the OTHER tree in our backyard failed to withstand the winds clocked at a maximum of 122kph - torn right up by its roots, landing on the roof of the neighbour behind us. The tree straddles our property line, so we don't have much choice but to contribute something to the cost of its removal. We were very lucky that we didn't sustain any damage, especially since our awesome canoe was sitting in its cradle along the fence to the right of the root ball. That fence was torn right off its moorings when the tree toppled - tilting precariously into our yard - and the canoe was resting on the roots when we got home.

You can actually see the hole that Bob had to include for the tree when he built the new fence a couple of years ago.

I did manage to get a nice ride in down to the market on Saturday morning - some kind people had been hard at work while I still slumbered, clearing a path for us late risers.

It was a beautiful morning.

We did our shopping and came home, had some brunch, then while we digested Tanker pulled out a ladder to check our roof for loose shingles - we'd seen a lot of bare patches on people's houses in our area when we went for a stroll on Friday evening. Ours was ok; apparently the new roof we had put on in 2012 was pretty solidly built.

I figured that while we were still digesting - before I headed out for a run on some technical trail to see if I was going to be able to handle Seaton at all - we should make a start on clearing out our crushed pop can of a shed. We got everything parceled out down the side of the house (being basically out of space in the backyard between a giant root ball, the new shed sitting in boxes on a pallet, and the canoe resting up against said boxes) and covered it all with a tarp anchored to the chain link fence. 

Then, well...I grabbed a screwdriver..

..and suddenly things started coming apart.
Yes, in a dress and Birkenstocks.

We worked all afternoon, dismantling the probably-at-least-20-year-old aluminum beast with a screwdriver, box wrench, pliers, and (on 2 or 3 occasions when things were too rusted to budge) a chop saw.

If you think building a shed is tough, try taking one apart not knowing how it went together.

By the time 7pm rolled around, we were both exhausted and never wanted to see another screw in our entire lives.

This is only about half of them - the rest went into an old mug we found in the shed whilst cleaning it out.

We had been victorious, though - all that remained was the rotten wooden floor and foundation, which we figured could wait for another day.

There was no run.

Since we wanted to get the path cleared to remove the rest of the tree behind the shed when the arborists were by to get the other tree off Bob's roof, Sunday morning brought brunch, sunshine, and crowbar time.

No dress and sandals this time, though I emerged from the shed destruction miraculously unharmed..

The rotting plywood sheets actually came up more easily than expected, and were stacked off to the side for disposal.

The broken, decrepit skids on which the shed had been built by the previous owners of our house came up next, along with all the bricks and assorted other items (like weight plates, pop cans and other junk) they'd thoughtfully included in the foundation.

Just spanky.

Then things got a little serious. The roots of the Manitoba maple that dropped its trunk on the shed during the ice storm had surfaced over the years, shoving the patio stone that sat in front of the doors of the old shed several inches into the air and posing a serious impediment to leveling out the foundation for a new shed.

They had to go.

So I made them disappear.

By 4pm I'd chopped no less than five sections of root, most approximately two feet long by six inches thick, and had been swinging an axe for almost 2 hours straight. I was thoroughly knackered and we needed to run some errands before the shops closed, but our mission was accomplished.

No more shed, but also no run.

With the shed completely removed, we contacted the tree service who had brought down and limbed the original fallen chunk and asked them to come by to remove the rest of the tree. We were told we'd have to wait 2-3 weeks, but actually came home to a pleasant surprise last night:

That's a lot of wood.

Sad to see the trees go, but happy they can't do any more damage.

Not having run since Wednesday, I duly packed up kit and brought it to work with me for a lunch run on Monday, with aching shoulders and hamstrings from my exertions over the weekend. I got changed just before leaving the office, and did my usual pre-run warmup.

It didn't go well.

Whatever is wrong with my right leg hadn't really improved over the weekend, and something in my ankle got very, very angry with me when I tried to do knee-wall touches.

Everything from the knee down was basically on fire.

So once again - there was no run. I went for a walk in my running kit.

..and you can see exactly how happy I was about that.

I haven't run since, either. I saw my osteopath (for the last time this year, since my benefits have run out) on Monday evening and he had at my damaged leg with no holds barred - I yelped a few times under his bear-trap hands and nearly levitated off the table a few times. But, between the manipulations and some shockwave therapy on my lower leg and ankle, things got a bit looser. There was measurable improvement by Tuesday morning, though I still have a great deal of pain trying to lift my right heel from the ground. Not super optimal.

I've done nothing but walk and swim (once, on Tuesday evening) this week, with a little easy-going bike ride on Thursday evening just to spin my legs a bit. Acknowledging that part of the problem seems to be some weakness in my hips and glutes (despite having done dedicated hip and glute work 4 times a week for the last few years), I've been trying some new exercises to wake them up and get them firing as they should...which has left my butt really sore since Tuesday morning.

Oh yeah, and they made it longer for this year, too.

I only did some mobility yoga on Thursday morning and I'm taking today fully off (well, maybe a short walk..) in hopes that things will heal up before the starting gun tomorrow, but not having run in a week and a half I have no idea what to expect once I'm out on the trail.

It may be a short run, it may be a long power hike, and it will almost certainly end up in a DNF. My only real hope is that I don't do any catastrophic damage, as we've got a backpacking trip next weekend to which we've been looking forward for months now.

And adventures with this guy are far too much fun to miss!

I realised last night that I was approaching this in totally the wrong way, though. I had somewhat been dreading this race, because it's assuredly going to hurt, and be a bit of a slog...but then I figured out just how lucky I am to even be able to line up at the start and go for a traipse along through the trilliums.

Photo by Ken Niemimaa from the Seaton Soaker facebook page

So, I'm going to try to just enjoy myself out there. Yes, it's supposed to rain. Yes, I'm going in injured. No, I don't have much hope of finishing the race...but I always have plenty of time for a lovely walk in the woods, and I'm grateful to have the chance to do so. I'll take some tasty food along, plus my poles (if they'll let me; I haven't got an answer to my inquiry yet) to help me if I get too gimpy, and a warm jacket in a waterproof stuff sack in case I end up having to spend some time with the lovely folks at an aid station while waiting for a ride back to the start. Tanker will be out at the Bridge aid station, being his amazing self and checking up on me as the day goes on. If I start with a poor attitude, I miss out on the simple joy of a journey through mud and water (especially as we now do the river crossing each way on the out-and-back course), over hill and dale, with friendly faces out on the trail and spring bursting forth all around.

I mean, really...how bad could it be?

Right where I want to be

I've spent some time whingeing over the course of this year about how much running I've been putting in, trying to whip my arse into some kind of reasonable shape to attempt a 12-hour ultra. I've complained to Tanker that I haven't had time for golf, canoeing, a leisurely afternoon motorcycle ride, or just sitting around the fire in the backyard in ages.

The waaambulance is on its way!

Last Saturday was pretty typical: rolled out of bed around 9am, then hopped on my mountain bike to ride the Grand Trunk Trail down to the Cambridge Farmers' Market.

Morning commute

We grabbed coffee from Roy's Roast at the market, picked up 80% of our groceries for the week from the awesome market vendors, then stopped by Tiny Cakes to pick up something delicious for a post-run treat. Back up to the house for brunch, we had some errands to run and then it was off to Puslinch Tract so I could get in a couple of hours of trail running while Tanker went for a hike.

It was gorgeous, despite the wind and the rain that fell for half an hour or so in the middle (and soaked my phone, requiring a couple of hours in a bag of minute rice to break it out of a boot cycle).

So much greener than the last time I was here (back in May)

Found the funhouse!
These trails criss-cross a valley - almost a mountain bike halfpipe

Lots of rocky, rooty bits in the hardwoods

I finished up just before sunset, then we headed home and Tanker fired up the barbecue to grill some chicken thighs while I made pasta using the fresh peas, mushrooms, and the homemade pesto I'd created out of a bunch of incredibly fragrant fresh basil that we'd picked up at the market that morning.

The only thing that was really different than most other Saturdays was my own perception. I realized that it might not have left us time to hit the driving range or get our canoe out, but I'd enjoyed almost every single minute of my day. From the stunningly blue skies overhead as I pedaled down to the market to the joy of discovering a bit of trail I'd never explored before at Puslinch, every element of the day added something wonderful to my existence.

It might not be for everyone, but I wouldn't really have it any other way. For me, it was a perfect day.

Especially since I got to share it with the one I love the most.

I don't know how he puts up with me.

I'm incredibly happy to be able to pursue my hobbies - sweaty and otherwise - without any impediments apart from time, and so grateful that my biggest complaint is essentially that there aren't enough hours in the day for all of the different kinds of fun I have available to me. How lucky can a girl get?

Wishing you all a weekend filled with joy in your endeavours!

Recovery

Race season is over, and I'm slowly getting my legs back under me.

I waited a full week to run after Horror Hill, which included being beaten up in the most helpful and kind ways by an ultra-badass massage therapist. I did a lot of rehab exercises for my stupid posterior chain (which is causing the knee pain by messing with my IT band), and hoped for the best as I set out on a trail with Tanker the Wonder Sherpa chasing me through some light rain and darkness.

Because why do anything the easy way?

It went poorly. My knee hurt after 20mins, and I was in pretty poor shape even walking the rest of the evening.

We did have a wonderful ride on the Cambridge to Paris Rail Trail on Sunday. It was chilly but sunny, and despite almost all the leaves having fallen, the trail is always beautiful.

Can't complain about this in November

Or really any other time of year.

I took Monday off to do some yoga, trying to treat the injury as an opportunity to do some other things that I seldom have time for. Tuesday, though, I braved the rain and darkness once more...and returned triumphant!

HAPPYDANCE!

I'm still not strong enough to run back-to-back days, and had some soreness at the end of a 26min run (in 48kph/30mph winds that were gusting to 73kph/45mph and sideways rain) last night, but the knee was ok again this morning from the very moment I awoke. It seems that it's responding to the barrage of exercises, stretching and foam rolling I'm throwing at it, so I have high hopes of carefree runs through the woods before the snow flies.

It's not too much to ask, is it?

Of course, I do need to get the leaves raked, too. Amazing how much stuff gets pushed to the side when racing is afoot!

Mine Over Matter Full Off-Road Triathlon Relay - June 27th, 2015

What a bloody gong show.

Somehow I got it into my head that start time for this race was 9am. We arrived at 7:30 with plenty of time to pick up kit and get Tanker situated in transition before suddenly hearing that the transition area would be closing at 7:50am.

Erhm, what?

Yeah, so 8am start. Not 9am. Whoops.

By the time I had our kit and got Tanker's number plate on his bike, I had all of 10mins to change (inside my Chawel) into my bathing suit and get at least my lower half stuffed into my wetsuit (which they'd just announced would be legal, contrary to expectations) before we had to vacate transition. With no time to hit a portajohn, that was the only thing getting vacated.

I rubberized myself as best I could, wandered down to the swim exit, and plunged in to flail my way through the water over to the starting area. My total "warm up" was about 50m, and my suit was in need of adjustment.

CO-OPERATE DAMMIT

I waited with the other pink-capped women while the men's wave went off, thankful that at least the water was warm - a pleasant change from Woodstock! I was also grateful that Tanker and I were just doing this race for giggles; between my ongoing hamstring injury, Tank's shaken confidence on the bike and the ridiculous rush due to my start time SNAFU, performance was not the word of the day.

Idiocy, as usual, was.

At 8:03am the horn sounded and I plunged forth to see if I could at least make it through the damn swim without drowning or having to kick on my back (because that was humiliating at Woodstock).

Move it!

I actually felt ok as I headed for the first turn buoy - my arms were turning over and I wasn't feeling gassed or sore. Probably would have been better if we'd managed more than 5-6hrs of sleep per night all week, but it was a little late for that know.

Hey, I'm doing it!

There was only one problem: despite being able to sight the buoy without issue, I was having no luck actually keeping myself on course toward it. I kept drifting off to my left, and my corrections seemed ineffective at best.

The red line is not the fast line.

I must have swum at least an extra 50m just due to my inability to move in a straight line. The advantage was that I had plenty of clear water around me to do my own thing - the disadvantage was that I had a lot of catching up to do.

I did eventually manage to get my navigation under control, right about the time I hit the first turn buoy. I actually felt pretty good as I stroked my way through the rest of the course and commenced passing people. I did in fact swim the whole thing as I'd hoped, and felt fairly strong.

Unfortunately, it would later turn out that I should have started in the first wave. So, apart from my own rather pathetic lack of skill in the water leading to a slow time of 22:30 (at 2:15/100m), we ended up with an additional 3 minutes being tacked onto team ill advised racing inc.'s swim result.

I wasn't much faster running into transition, either.

1,000m swim: 25:30 @ 2:32/100m
8/9 relay teams

So yeah, I only beat one person out of the water - the guy who'd never swum in open water before, and who was wearing a shorty jet ski wetsuit...backwards. Fortunately, Tanker was ready and rarin' to go shred the bike course!

T1: 00:52

Passing a random chick leaving the mount line

Laser-like focus

Through the first loop

Looking strong

Not that you'd know it from the photos, but I heard from Tanker later that he found the bike course quite a challenge. Apart from the joy of having to ride up the Niagara Escarpment (repeatedly), the nature of the trails themselves were plenty to keep him on his toes...and occasionally off his bike, either to walk something that was just too sketchy looking or picking himself up from something it might've been better to walk.

I feel slightly less wussy about my spotty history with the bike course here after hearing Tank say afterward that he'd "never been so terrified while having so much fun."

Dogged determination

I hung out in transition, having changed into my running kit under my Chawel and thrown on a sweater to try to keep from freezing on the cool, windy, overcast morning.

Waiting game

I chatted a bit with a volunteer patrolling the transition area, slammed back a tin of mango nectar, and engaged in a long and elaborate series of dynamic stretches in an attempt to loosen up my legs and stop my teeth from chattering.

Bikes and racks

Trying to judge the time Tank would be back from playing in the dirt based on his first loop, I took a caffeinated gel at about 9:40am in anticipation of the run to come. I wished I could run over to the portajohns as I needed to pee (I'd been staying well hydrated while I waited and shivered), but I couldn't risk not being there when Tank got back. When it passed 10am and the trickle of mountain bikes coming into transition all but dried up I started to get a bit concerned, but just before 10 past my sweetheart was charging hard toward the dismount line.

Rockin' and rollin'

21km bike: 1:43:17 @ 12.2kph

9/9 relay teams

Ripping toward our rack.

A quick kiss and a swap of the chip strap from his ankle to mine, then I was on my way.

T2: 00:48

Hoping like hell my hamstrings hold together.

From the run exit, I was directed down a mowed pathway through the long grass between the parking area and the pond. This brought me out to the quarry driveway; the giant, paved hill that represents the start of the bike course. With no volunteers around and the only other runner I could see ditched behind me (having passed him as I ran across the grass), I wasn't sure if I was headed in the right direction. I'd looked at the new maps on the website, but every other year the run had started with a slog up the double track hill on the north side of the race site that the bike course now took down to transition. Was I running the wrong damn way?

Aroo?

I decided there was nothing else for it - I'd just keep on trucking, and if someone told me I was in the wrong place, I'd deal with that when it happened.

I felt surprisingly strong on the climb up to the trails, and finally found some peace of mind as I passed an aid station without the volunteers yelling "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" - they just kindly offered me water or sport drink, both of which I declined before darting into the forest.

It was a bit eerie not being able to see another soul during a race, but I thoroughly enjoyed the run regardless. The new course, I came to figure out, is the first 7.8km loop of the bike leg - the run around the pond afterward brings it up to the new distance of 9.8km (which the timing company lists as 9.5k for some reason). While being technical enough to keep your attention on foot, the whole thing is supremely runnable. I danced over roots and rocks, thinking that Sulphur Springs was excellent training for these trails, and just delighting in being surrounded by forest with nothing but the soughing wind as company. I felt fitter than I expected, and my injured leg was quietly getting on with its job even after I stepped wrong on something or other and rolled my right ankle a bit. Pure trail bliss.

Though it may not look like it here..

I grabbed a cup of water from the second aid station, having a sip and dumping the rest on my chest for cooling, figuring I must be about halfway through the run course by now. I had no way of knowing for sure, as the kilometers weren't marked and I wasn't even wearing my watch - I'd ditched it when Tanker was on his way into transition as knowing the time wouldn't have any impact on my ability to run. Fortunately my injury didn't seem to be a limiting factor, and I was able to push fairly hard...as plainly evidenced by the death whistle starting up no more than 6k in as I strained up a root-strewn climb.

I finally found another competitor on course just before I came out of the woods again, passing him as he walked and reassuring him there was a big downhill coming. Of course, I'd forgotten the short climb on the doubletrack that comes before the long, pounding descent. I saw a girl on her way up it as I puffed life a freight train on my way to the top, and decided to zero in on her as a rabbit.

Down, down, down the other side, back to quarry level again. I grabbed another cup of water from the last aid station near transition, having one more sip to wet my mouth and dumping the rest down my back. It wasn't terribly warm out, but I'd sweat while running in a meat locker, so it was welcome. As I pounded my way around the pond I passed my rabbit, plus two other competitors ahead of me - advantage of being a relay runner and having fresher legs. My damaged hamstrings were starting to talk now, but I knew I was only minutes away from being done - this was no time to let up!

Rounding the end of the pond and coming face to face with a blast of wind, I kept pushing hard as I came through the final turn and into the finish chute with damn near nothing left in me.

At least my leg was still smiling!

9.5km run: 58:47 @ 6:11/km

9/9 relay teams

Definitely not going to be tapped for the Olympic team at any point soon, though if the race organizers are correct about the distance being 9.8km I actually managed a 6:00/km pace through hilly and technical terrain. Even if it was only 9.5km, that's almost twice as far as I've run at one time since this idiot injury happened, and I think made for a pretty decent showing for an out-of-shape semi-cripple.

Official time: 3:09:15 (should be 3:06:15)

9/9 relay teams

It's a good thing we just do this for fun, eh?

Team ill advised racing inc. - done with no major damage!

We really couldn't have timed the finish much better anyway. Within 5mins of my crossing the line, the first of the rain that had been threatening all morning began to fall, and in no time it was positively bucketing down!

Watering down my coffee, dammit!

It was a fun day of racing with my sweetheart, and I'm just glad we both finished intact with smiles on our faces. What more could you really ask for?