My original plan had been to run in the direction of Shubie Park, a favourite destination, but a friend asked me to stop by her house in Halifax to consult on a kitchen renovation so I decided to run in that direction instead. My revised route took me across the "Old MacDonald Bridge" (as the locals call it). I had no trouble running to Halifax. However, running back was an entirely different story.
By the time I'd stopped to see my friend and run a loop around the south end of the city, dusk was approaching quickly, the wind had picked up and I was being pounded by a cold, miserable rain. At the mid-point of the bridge (which is more than a kilometre in length), my face, ears and hands were completely frozen and I was fighting to keep myself upright with the wind driving me hard against the handrail. I could feel the deck of the bridge heaving beneath me with the force of the storm, and wind howled through the tension wires overhead at a pitch that made my heart pound.
|The bridge in the calm after the storm|