Worth Reading: City of Girls

 

I stayed up way too late finishing Elizabeth Gilbert's City of Girls before I went to sleep last night.

Mulling it over as I climbed the stairs to bed, I realized I found most of the characters and much of the plot completely improbable. Why then did I stay up so late to finish it?

To begin with, because it contains an assortment of wise and insightful passages like this one:

"When we are young, Angela, we may fall victim to the misconception that time will heal all wounds and that eventually everything will shake itself out. But as we get older, we learn this sad truth: some things can never be fixed. Some mistakes can never be put right -- not by the passage of time, and not by our most fervent wishes, either.

In my experience, this is the hardest lesson of them all.

After a certain age, we are all walking around this world in bodies made of secrets and shame and sorrow and old, unhealed injuries. Our hearts grow sore and misshapen around all this pain -- yet somehow, still, we carry on."

And this:

"This is what I've found about life, as I've gotten older: you start to lose people, Angela. It's not that there is ever a shortage of people -- oh, heavens, no. It is merely that -- as the years pass -- there comes to be a terrible shortage of your people. The ones you loved. The ones who knew the people that you both loved. The ones who know your whole history."

And I couldn't help but fall in love with the main characters, who, despite their many flaws -- or perhaps because of them -- radiated love and compassion for those around them. It seemed to me the story was one long lesson in the giving and receiving of grace - something the world could surely use more of.

Of course, since it's a Liz Gilbert book, all the earnest stuff is packaged in a rollicking good story, set in a intriguing time and place, lyrically told, which makes it perfect reading for a long winter's night by the fire, or lazy day on the beach. Highly recommended.

Lots of reading and a little running

It's taking awhile to get back to training regularly but, now that my face is healing nicely, I'm determined keep at it. Last week, I only ran twice but both runs were a reasonable length (7k and 8.5k) and felt good throughout so I seem to be making some progress at least.

This week, I'd been hoping to run at least 3 times but Mother Nature had other ideas. We had another nor'easter mid-week that kept me from running on Thursday as planned. I may still manage three runs if I take puppy for a short run this afternoon before my longish 9k run tomorrow.

I didn't used to be such a wimp about running in bad weather but these days I struggle to head out in less-than-ideal conditions - and there seem to have been a lot of them lately. We haven't had as much snow as we usually do this winter but the winds have been fierce and bitter.  The massive tree limbs littering the yard at our country place are testament to how nasty it's been.

On a more positive note, now that the time has changed, evenings are longer so I should be able to make a habit of taking Jackie for short runs at Shubie Park after work. We've made it out a couple of times recently, and have used the time to practice things we're learning in trail training classes at Oceanmark K9 Resort. It's amazing to see how quickly Jackie picks stuff up when her people to a better job of communicating what they want. And, so far as we can tell, she loves the chance to show us what she can do.

Of course, the best thing about trail training is how tired Jackie is afterwards. There's not much cuter than a tired puppy and I get lots more snuggles after we've spent an hour or two on the trails together.

In addition to working, running and hanging out with the critters last week, I managed to do a fair bit of reading. On the weekend, I finished Nora Ephron's I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman, which was by turns hilarious and moving, along with Mark Manson's The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck.

I'm not sure what to make of Manson's book. Clearly, he's no intellectual heavyweight and, at just 34 years old, he's not old enough to be credited with much wisdom. On the other hand, he does a reasonably good job of repackaging insights and wisdom from other sources and the book's an easy and entertaining read.

In particular, I liked his critique of self-help approaches that insist people should try to be positive all the time. To his mind (and mine), that's just dumb. Bad stuff happens and it's completely normal and healthy to feel crappy about it. The important thing is to be thoughtful about how you respond and to do so in ways that are consistent with your values.

Speaking of values, I like that Manson talks about them. It's not something a lot of people do these days but he encourages readers to identify their values, and consider whether they will lead to "a good life" in the long run. By his definition, a good life isn't a life without struggles but rather a life with struggles of your own choosing - a notion that certainly resonates with me.

Okay, okay. Enough about the book. It really isn't that good - though it did offer some interesting questions to noodle over while I work out when and how I want to move on from my current day job.

My other big accomplishment over the past couple of weeks was capturing a few more decent photos of Nemmie. She such a beautiful kitty, it's a shame it's so hard to get good photos of her.

I plan to spend much of this weekend following what's happening at the Barkley Marathon. There are at least two Canadians running - one of whom is an accomplished distance runner, well known in the local trail running community.  Of course, the whole world is cheering for Gary Robbins after his heartbreaking finish at last year's Barkley - me included. But I'll be cheering just as loudly for Jodi Isenor, who completed the 3 loop "Fun Run" at Barkley in 2014 in 36:36 - an incredible accomplishment for a first timer. Here's his account of that run.

Speaking of which, it's time to sign off and get on with my day. Hope the weather's cooperating with whatever you have planned this weekend. Are you following Barkley too? What's your take on adventure races and the people who attempt them?

Creative November Challenge Day #20: Making the best of things

The new Shannon Park Lookoff in the rain

I've been struggling with this challenge - partly because I'm so damned busy these days but mostly because it's November, which almost by definition means that it's grey and rainy in this part of the world. There have been a few breaks here and there but mostly the weather's been grim.

Despite a dreary forecast this morning, I threw my camera in my bag as I headed out the door, as I have every day this month, and stopped en route to the ferry long enough to take a few photos, though I knew without looking at them that they weren't worth keeping. Everything looked flat and uninteresting in the drab light seeping through the clouds.

Frustrated, I reminded myself to keep trying to find something to shoot. However bad the light, I wanted to make the best of the limited opportunity I had for photography this morning.

As I approached the ferry terminal, a few rays of watery sunlight broke through the clouds low on the horizon. I tried a couple of shots looking out towards the mouth of the harbour but there was too little light to make an interesting image. However, when I turned to head into the terminal, I noticed the windows reflecting an enhanced version of the view, and quickly grabbed a few photos on my way inside. I didn't get anything I really liked but this is my favourite of the bunch.

On the ferry, the options were equally limited. It was too cold to ride on the upper deck and the windows were spattered with rain and sea water so it was impossible to get a clear shot outside. The views were even less promising inside so I finally decided to try creating something a little more abstract.

From a distance, it seems to me it's easy to make out the subject of the image, but maybe it's less obvious close up. In any case, I liked the result when I tweaked the image on my iMac tonight.

I suppose there are a couple of nice life lessons there - that, even when life is most grim, unexpected slivers of light and opportunity can present themselves, and that sometimes even mundane objects have unexpected beauty when we take time to look at them in new ways. In any case, trying to make the best of things is nearly always a good idea. 

Creative November Challenge Day #18: Selfie reflections

Selfies are ubiquitous on social media and I have to admit I've shared more than a few over the years.

For me, selfies aren't about showing off - or not usually anyway. Rather, they're a means of expressing my existential angst by communicating who I am and what I'm experiencing at a particular moment in time. It's only looking at the photos later that I realize, more often than not, that the woman peering into the camera isn't anyone I recognize.

Creative November Challenge Day #5: Happy mistakes

I took this photo from our bedroom window yesterday morning. I was tidying up after my run when I noticed the sun illuminating the last of the red and gold leaves clinging to the branches of a large maple tree on the northwest edge of our property. I grabbed my camera hoping to capture their warm glow through the wavy old window glass, but - for the life of me - couldn't get the camera to focus in either manual or automatic mode.

It was only later that I figured out why the autofocus wouldn't work. I was using a long zoom lens, which isn't able to focus on objects that are too close. The leaves I wanted to capture were thirty to forty feet away, but the lens was mere inches from the window, so the close proximity of the glass prevented the lens from operating as I wanted it to. I still haven't figured out why I couldn't focus manually.

In any case, when I downloaded my photos last night, I was surprised to find that I actually liked the image I'd captured by mistake - especially, when I tweaked it to add more contrast.

Another happy outtake from my frustrated efforts was this photo, which I took while trying to figure out if the lens was working properly.

I love how the blue sea glass pops against the warm colours in the yard outside. 

There's a lovely life lesson in there - something about how mistakes can turn out to be happy things. When we're lucky, they enable us to see situations from new perspectives, challenge us to be creative, and offer opportunities we wouldn't have had otherwise. They also help us recognize our real friends - the ones who stand by us no matter how badly we've messed up.

But, of course, that can be hard to remember in the moment, when our first instinct is to be angry and defensive, and try to undo the error - which is why it's a good idea to notice happy mistakes when they occur - so that, however badly we screw up in future, we can remind ourselves that the very worst things sometimes lead to the very best. 

Running lessons: Tough times make us stronger

Another week of training gone and, with just 12 weeks until Cabot Trail Relay, I'm beginning to feel a tad nervous.  So far, I've managed to complete all the long weekend runs on my schedule but I've been much less consistent about midweek runs. 

Last week, for instance, I only ran 3k on Tuesday evening before slowing to a walk because I was feeling woozy. I'm not sure what the problem was - maybe tired from all the running the week before (37k in total) or maybe fighting a bug of some kind. Thank goodness my energy returned to normal this weekend - especially given the challenges posed by the weather. 

Let me back up. The weekend before last was fantastic for running - spring-like with mild temperatures, little wind, and fog no less! I had to strip down to my running bra at the midpoint of my 8k on Saturday morning fun.  Seriously!

Since the weather was so mild, Husband and I headed down river for a walk on Risser's Beach in the afternoon. There wasn't much to see but it was mellow wandering along listening to the waves and shaking out my legs in preparation for my long run the next day.

Sunday morning, I crawled out of bed earlier than usual and headed to Prince's Inlet to join my buddy David's for a favourite run out to Second Peninsula and back. This is Dave at our turnaround point at Bachman's Beach. I didn't bother to try to take other photos since it was still so foggy.

The run was "easier" than some I've done lately because the weather was so lovely and there were many fewer hills involved but, at 17k, it still felt challenging - maybe because we ran early enough that I didn't have time to stretch properly first. In any case, it was - as always - great fun running with David and catching up on his news.

By contrast, this past weekend's runs were much tougher. Husband and I set out after breakfast Saturday morning, intending to do 8k up river and back, but the wind was so strong and cold we turned back after about a kilometre and finished our run in Peace Park, where we could be out of the the wind for the most part. By the time we'd finished two circuits of the park, Husband had had enough so we headed back to town, where he dropped me so I could run a last few kilometres back to the house before calling it a day.

The forecast was for calmer weather yesterday but, unfortunately, the forecast was wrong. We woke up to only marginally warmer temperatures (-7C) and even stronger wind. I couldn't imagine tackling my planned workout, which would have involved fighting heavy headwinds for six 500-metre climbs up Logan Street hill. Instead, I opted to do my hill repeats on a 500 metre stretch of Aberdeen Rd., which was mostly out of the wind.

Even with little wind, those six hills felt hard. After completing just two, the gremlins in my head were having a field day - loudly insisting I was too damned old to run North Mountain and might as well throw in the towel now, walk home and plop myself down by the fire for the afternoon. Fortunately, after training for nearly 30 long distance races, I've learned a few tricks for dealing with the little blighters. "First off," I growled under my breath, "I am not too old!  Second, every one of these climbs will only last 3 and 4 minutes - which is no time at all. Third, plenty of people have way worse things to deal with than this - illness, depression, addiction, breakups. If they can deal with their stuff for weeks and months at a time, I can most certainly run uphill for half an hour! So bugger off and leave me alone!" Which they did.

Of course, it helped that I could feel the training starting to pay off. The hills felt easier than they have in a few of years. If I stick to my training plan, there's every reason to hope I'll be strong enough to run leg 9 in a reasonable time. I just need to be patient and keep working.

Ahhhh...there's another of those wonderful lessons that resonate in the rest of my life. The reality is that many of the best thing in life only become possible through concerted and consistent effort - fulfilling relationships, satisfying work, and good health - to name just a few. Of course, you might be lucky enough to have some of those things drop in your lap but mostly you have to work for them.

Another lesson is that it's often the tough times that make you stronger and happier in the long run. Sure, I might have preferred mild, calm conditions for this weekend's runs but the cold and wind made for more intense workouts overall and forced me to confront my gremlin so, as training runs go, they were actually pretty awesome.  In life it's the same. Shit happens and you can't imagine  you'll ever get through it, but you do. And usually you end up wiser, stronger and more confident because of it - which is also pretty awesome.

And, with that, friends, it's time to curl up by the fire to read a bit before bed.  Hope spring is in the air wherever you are. Happy running and writing.

And now the real work begins...

On the running front, I got serious about training for CTR this week - increasing my distances somewhat, adding regular hills and stretching more consistently in an effort to keep my hip flexors from becoming too tight. By yesterday afternoon, I was feeling the effects. My last run of the week - an easy 5k with husband - felt harder than it should have, which reminded me that I'll need to pace myself. There's a long road hard between here and Cabot Trail Relay, so I'll need to be smart and strategic to avoid burning out before I hit the start line.

Which is a nice metaphor for what lies ahead for all who participated in the Women's March on Saturday. It was wonderful to see so many people take a stand against Trump and - more importantly - for progressive change, but now is when the real work begins.

As I scanned my Facebook news feed this morning, I was reminded that one of the big challenges will be healing wounds within the women's community. There are a myriad of divisions based on race, ethnicity, economic power, social status, gender identify, union membership, etc. that need to be acknowledged and addressed as quickly as possible - both because it's the right thing to do and because it's the only way to move forward together.

And move forward we must. The agenda that Trump, Putin and the like are pursuing in an entirely self-serving one that's bound to make things worse for most people - not to mention the planet. The one thing that inspires some optimism is that so many people seem to understand the danger and want to do something about it. Here's praying that all who participated in a march - or even just cheered from the sidelines - will get involved (if they're not already) in working on one or more issues they care about. March organizers are providing practical advice to those who may not know how to begin through an initiative they're calling 10 Actions in 100 Days.

Here at home, things seem slightly less grim - but I've no doubt there are people who are angry and cynical enough to try playing from Trump's playbook in order to get themselves or their candidates elected. Hopefully, my fellow Canadians - Harper fresh in their minds - won't fall for it, and our concerns about what's happening south of the border will translate into action here at home.

My friend Keith posted a wonderful rant on his blog this weekend, which I highly recommend. He's right. We need to remain hopeful, and get busy doing what we can to make the world a better place.

In the weeks ahead, I'll try to blog regularly about my CTR training for those who are interested. So far, the weather has made training relatively easy this winter (see photo at the top of this post) but, as February approaches, I'm braced for colder temperatures and a lot more snow. I live in Canada, after all.

In hope and solidarity,
Jan

Running lessons: Life happens...

Woah. September was intense. Not bad. Just incredibly busy. I can't remember when I last felt so pulled in all directions. Fortunately, the road ahead looks less congested, but I'm overdue for some rest and looking forward to a relaxed Thanksgiving.

This period of frenetic activity has reminded me that life has a way of interfering with even the best laid and executed plans.

I've been training all year in hopes I'd run a marathon in a personal best time this fall. And I might have if life hadn't gotten in the way. But work travel, family celebrations, a funeral, and new job responsibilities meant I didn't getting the rest I needed to recover properly between workouts. As a result, training didn't make me stronger - just more and more tired. By mid-September, I was totally discouraged despite completing most of my planned workouts - including a couple of hot and hilly 26k runs.

At my lowest point, I had an appointment with my chiropractor, Eric Helson, who patiently listened to my tale of woe and reminded me that (a) marathoners always feel beat-up as race day approaches and (b) people of a certain age need more recovery to see any real progress. Rather than give up on my goal, he suggested I reduce the frequency and intensity of my runs for a couple of weeks, then see how I felt.

I took his advice and ran just a few times in the past two weeks in an effort to give my body time to catch up. One was the "glory leg" of the Rum Runners Relay last Saturday. After months of running in hot, humid weather, it felt wonderful to race in cool, crisp fall air. And despite being tired from a busy work week and a long day on the road, I completed my leg in a respectable time - making the mat with time to spare. I was relieved and happy - not least because my teammates all ran well and I was worried I'd let them down. (One of our teammates took the fun photo at the top of this post.)

Today, I tackled a long slow 18k in near perfect conditions. It was a grey and drizzly but temperatures were ideal and I felt strong for most of it. I faded in the last 3 or 4 kms but I suspect that may have been due to dehydration since I didn't take much water with me. Overall, the run went well enough that I feel ready to register for the Moncton half marathon in a few weeks.

That's right, I said half marathon. Despite feeling much better, and having nearly enough long runs under my belt, I've decided not to attempt another full this fall. It would have been nice to complete a 10th marathon before my 55th birthday in March but I've no interest in posting another slow finish time. When I next go the full  distance, I want to run a personal best, and that's not realistic right now.

What is realistic is a personal best half marathon. At RRR last weekend, I averaged 5:41/km over 11 kms, despite a hilly course and nasty blister, so I'm hoping I can manage something close to that in Moncton. If I succeed, I'll easily beat my best half marathon time of 2:06, clocked in New Glasgow more than a decade ago. Fingers crossed.

So that's the news from here. I'm still hoping to write posts about the rest of our vacation, my recent visit to the Museum of Human Rights in Winnipeg, and other bits and pieces soon, but life'll have to calm down some first.

In the meantime, here are a few photos. It's too bad life intervened to keep me from tackling a full marathon this fall but at least the past month's been fun and interesting.

Happy running and writing!

Running lessons: No place like home

I've dreamt of traveling my whole life, and I've done a lot of it.  Husband and I have been fortunate to live and work in several countries, and to travel to many more. But the older I get, the more I realize there really is no place like home. Not just because it's where I grew up, but because it is - objectively speaking - a pretty wonderful place. It may not have as many grand landscapes or as much high culture as other spots on the globe, but Nova Scotia's combination of geographic beauty, warm caring people, temperate weather and non-pretentious lifestyle suits me perfectly. 

The subject's been on my mind lately as Husband and I make plans for my retirement in a few years. What are we likely to want to do then? Will we be disappointed if we can't afford to go gallivanting to exotic locales as many of our friends do? Or will be content to stay home and savour our own little corner of the planet? 

Much as we both enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people, I expect we'll be happy to stay home when the time comes. The internet offers endless opportunities to satisfy our curiosities, we both tire of traveling more quickly than we used to, and our consciences will be clearer if we're not generating thousands of tonnes of greenhouse gases for no useful purpose.

If I'd needed to be reminded that we live in a gorgeous part of the world, this past weekend would have done it. The weather was exceptionally mild for late February. On Saturday, I tackled a 20k long run along the river and trails in the sunshine and felt strong throughout, which I hope means all the training is beginning to pay off.   

Running lessons: Know your limits

A view of George's Island

The plan this weekend was to head to the country as usual Friday night but, after a hectic week at work and home, I felt an overwhelming need to stay in the city and get myself organized. Husband - bless him - was happy to go along so we settled into a weekend of tackling paperwork, enjoying city activities (like going to the market, visiting two local galleries and checking out the new creperie in our neighbourhood), visiting friends and, of course running. It felt good to catch up a bit. 

It's interesting how difficult it can be to recognize our limits sometimes. Too often, we push ourselves to meet expectations - our own and others - until we're forced by illness or exhaustion to rest, by which point the damage we've done to ourselves can take a long time to heal. 

One of the things running has taught me is that it's good to know and respect your limits - to slow down or stop before you're forced to. That's not easy to do when you have a goal in sight but ignoring your actual capacities can lead to disaster.

Running lessons: Pain is temporary

"Pain is temporary, pride is forever." 

It's a quote I've repeated often to myself over the years - especially, in the midst of my longest, toughest runs. Usually, I focus on the pride I'll feel if I stick with my training but, during my long run Sunday afternoon, it was the pain I was pondering.

Any running coach will tell you you should never ignore pain because it often has important things to tell you. On the other hand, if you pay it too much attention, it can quickly discourage you from training altogether. It's a tricky balance.

My runs felt tough last week - mostly because the tightness in my quads and hip flexors, which I'd thought was resolved before we left for Scotland, returned with a vengeance after I spent a week walking Indy (the rescue dog) 5 or 6 kilometres a day. I suspect the trouble was I was walking too quickly. Or maybe I was over-striding. Whatever the cause, getting out of bed in the mornings had once more become an ordeal.

Before subjecting myself to more of Dr. Warren's tender ART, I decided to try doing some gentle yoga each morning to see if I could get my body moving normally. So far, it seems to be helping and I must say it's a lovely way to start the day - once I get through the first few rounds of creaky sun salutations, that is.

One of the things running has taught me is that I shouldn't let pain discourage me too quickly. In the past 13 and a half years, I've had a wide assortment of running injuries - from shin splints, IT band tightness, and plantar fasciitis to frozen shoulder, back pain and anemia. And, each time I've been injured, one or more of my family and friends has suggested it's time to give up running. Fortunately, I haven't been inclined to do that, and have always managed to recover through some combination of body work (massage, chiro and/or physio), stretching, strength-training, rest, diet and (occasional) anti-inflammatories. The key I've found is to remain patient, attentive, committed to finding solutions for however long it takes to get back on the road.

On Sunday, as I ran one of my favourite routes through Shubie Park, it occurred to me that the same holds true in respect to healing emotional pain. On days when the state of the world seems too bleak to bear, when old griefs come circling back to knock the breath out of me, or when anger and fear undermine my peace of mind, I need to remind myself that emotional pain is just as temporary as physical pain - that, with enough patience, attentiveness and commitment, it too can be healed.

It's an important lesson. Too many people are discouraged from living happy, caring and productive lives by the belief that their physical and/or emotional pain is insurmountable when, in truth, it isn't. Need proof? Check out this video about Arthur Boorman.



Or this open letter from Antoine Leiris to the terrorists who killed his wife in Paris last weekend.

Pain is temporary. I'm hanging on to that thought. For as long as it takes my body and heart to heal this time around.

Happy running and writing friends.

NaNoWriMo and November100Mile Challenge - Day #9: The spirit is willing, the body is weak

So far, so good. I can't pretend the first nine days have been easy. It's been far more challenging than I expected to run every day - though I've done only short distances and taken more walk breaks than usual. Day #6 felt so difficult, I seriously thought about giving up on my goal of running 100 miles this month but, fortunately, the last few days have been easier - as if my body is beginning to adapt to the extra exercise.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it feels hard. After all, in the 12+ years since I took up running, I've never worked out more than two or three days in a row. In fact, whenever possible, I've let myself have 48 hours between runs to recover. Given that, running 9 days in a row is a major accomplishment. If I can manage 30 days and a total of 100 miles, I'll be thrilled. Only 21 days and 70 more miles to go!

My NaNoWriMo project is progressing well too. To this point, I've drafted two and a half stories. Though I'm not particularly happy with any of them, I'm hopeful that will change when I get round to rewriting them. The story I'm writing now has an intriguing premise. It's about a 59 year old man who, faced with the prospect of an unhappy retirement, decides to try to kill himself by running Cape to Cabot. A goofy idea, I know, but I'm hoping I can find some way to make it work.  In any case, I'm enjoying the process.

I booked an extra day off work tomorrow so that Husband and I could have a four day weekend in the country. I had hoped to get a bunch of writing done but so far I've been too tired and distracted by other things - spending time with my dad, gardening, neurotic cats and (most of all) bad news from Husband's family in Ottawa. 

It turns out Husband's sister, just a couple of years older than him, has been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and is expected to live no more than a few months. The news has come as a shock for many reasons - not least because she's always been an active, healthy person, who regularly cross-country skied, hiked, canoed, etc. Cancer's never fair but it seems particularly cruel in this case. 

The fact that my sister-in-law has so little time left means Husband and I will try to spend more time in Ottawa in the coming months. It's also caused us rethink our plans for the future. To this point, we thought I would work work until 60 so I could retire with a reasonable pension. However, by that time, Husband will be 70, so we find ourselves wondering if it's wise to wait that long. We're both relatively fit and healthy at the moment but that may not be the case in another 7 or 8 years. On the other hand, early retirement means less financial security down the road - not to mention a leaner lifestyle now. Either option feels like a bit of a crap shoot so it's hard to know what to do. 

On that happy note, it's time I got back to working on my story. Fingers crossed I can find some way to make the plot hang together. 

Happy running and writing, friends. 

Running lessons: You never can tell

One of the things I've learned in my 12+ years of running is that you never can tell. You never can tell when your body will feel totally awesome or incredibly awful. You never can tell when you'll have a fantastic run or a terrible one. You never can tell if you're actually ready to race on a given day.

The fact is that, no matter how well you prepare, stuff happens. The race that should have been your best ever is a complete disappointment (Fredericton last spring). Another that you expect to be a total pain-fest is a joy-filled personal best (San Francisco in 2011).

Some things simply aren't predictable. Sure, you can pore over details afterwards and, if you're lucky, identify what went right and wrong, then try to replicate or avoid it in future. But the truth is that a great deal of what happens during a run is simply beyond your control.

Life's like that too, of course. The places, people, experiences we expect to bring us happiness often leave us cold, and vice versa. Usually, it's our expectations that are the problem. They aren't realistic. People don't (or can't) live up to them. We focus on what's missing rather than appreciating what is.

Of course, it doesn't help that we live in a culture that encourages us to expect a lot, then feel dissatisfied when we don't get it. It's why marketers earn the big bucks. The more we want, the more unhappy we are when we don't get it, the more likely we are to  consume stuff in hopes it will make us feel better. And, when it doesn't, the cycle begins again.

So what should we do? Well, for starters, we should be aware of our expectations and examine them critically to figure out whether they're realistic, helpful, etc. I'm not suggesting all expectations are bad. It often makes sense to set goals and work towards achieving them. But, when the goals aren't attainable or when we expect other people to do certain things or behave in certain ways, we're only setting ourselves up for disappointment.

And what does any of this have to do with the photo at the top of this post, you ask? I took it Sunday afternoon while I was preparing to head back to the city. Patterns danced across the floor and up the walls as late afternoon sunlight streamed through tree branches swaying in the wind. Fascinated, Nemmie (the cat) sat in the hallway, staring at the wall, occasionally stretching out a paw in a vain attempt to catch the light.

I stood watching for several moments, then remembered that last week's theme for my photo group was "hallways and corridors". Fortunately, my camera was nearby so I was able to grab it and snap the photo before Nemmie got distracted by something else and wandered off. When I uploaded it to my Facebook page later that evening, a number of friends responded immediately, saying how much they enjoyed it. Something about the image resonated, which surprised me a little because, although I liked it, I didn't really expect others to. Which just goes to show you never can tell. Sometimes, when you least expect it, good things happen.

BTW, for the running geeks in the crowd, here's a summary of my training last week:

Total # runs: 4
Hill training:  6 hills
Tempo runs: 1 - 10k
Longest run: 17k
Total distance run: 40k

Happy running and writing, friends!

Lonely, lazy days

I managed to get myself out of bed this morning in time to go for a 5k run before work but I can't say it felt good. My body was achy and sore after so many weeks of relative inactivity. Don't get me wrong, I've been running occasionally (1-2 times per week), walking a fair bit and doing some gardening. But I've not done any serious training in nearly ten weeks and my body is feeling it. The next few weeks will be busy at home and at work but I need to find more time for running if I'm going to be ready for Rum Runners Relay on September 27th.

Unfortunately, everything's feeling harder these days because I'm missing Her Majesty so much. She was a huge part of my life. From the time I woke up in the morning until I crashed at night, she was there - demanding food and snuggles, lying on any clothes I dropped on the bed or in a chair, settling into my suitcase when she caught me packing, "talking" about whatever was on her mind. I see her shadow from the corner of my eye dozens of times a day, and some part of me still thinks she's in the country with Husband and will be home in a few days.

I know that letting go of people we love deeply is one of life's toughest challenges. I've dealt with many such losses over the past few years and it never seems to get easier. I may go weeks at a time thinking I'm finally over it when something happens to remind me of the person who's missing and the grief and pain come flooding back. The same is true when I remember that Ranee now lies buried in our garden in the box Husband built for her.

I've been struck this week by how some people totally understand how I feel about Ranee's death, while others have no clue whatsoever. For the latter, I suspect pets are just "things" - to be owned and enjoyed for so long as they're convenient. But that wasn't how I thought of Ranee. To me, she was a constant companion who loved unconditionally and always wanted to spend time with me, however grumpy or upset I might be. It isn't hyperbole to say that she tethered me to life on my darkest days - through the challenges of law school and my early legal career, the times when Husband and I were on the verge of separation, difficult moves, professional disappointments, family issues, and lost friendships. No one - not even Husband - has been the guardian of so many confidences. So - yes - I miss her. The house feels desperately empty without her small but mighty presence. I know it will get easier in the months ahead but I still feel weighed down by grief and loneliness whenever I think of her.

Fortunately, when I finally went running this morning, I was reminded that, although it's sometimes hard to get myself out the door, running is one of the best things for dealing with sadness. It reminds me that, despite everything, there's a big beautiful world out there - where birds sing, children laugh, and light bounces off the surface of the lake - and I'm fortunate to be fit and healthy enough to enjoy it. In time, I hope that it's my happy memories of lost friends I will recall rather than the grief of losing them.

Present Perfect and Post-Marathon Recovery

Port Medway Harbour

Ten days post-marathon and I'm deep in the throes of post-marathon blues, feeling disappointed with my performance and a discouraged about training for the next event. I know from talking with other runners that feeling let down after a marathon isn't unusual. However, it seems my perfectionist tendencies have made my blues a little more intense than normal.

Fortunately, I recently finished reading a helpful book entitled "Present Perfect", which provides some excellent insights and advice for recovering perfectionists like me. The author, Dr. Pavel Somov, argues perfectionists are so often unhappy because they tend to judge things (the past, their own and other people's actions, their current circumstances) based upon what they think those things should be (or should have been) rather than what they actually are (or were). He goes on to point out how illogical that is. We can't change the past. Everyone does the best they can in the circumstances. What is, is. Given that, a healthier approach is to redefine perfection to include anything that can't be improved and to accept "perfectly imperfect" realities as the best they can be.

For example, take my marathon last weekend. I feel disappointed because - once again - I failed to run a sub-4:30. In fact, my finish time of nearly 4:49 was one of my slowest marathon times ever. But the fact is it was never realistic to hope I'd run the race in under 4:30. I'd only trained for 8 or 9 weeks leading up to it (rather than the recommended 12-16), the course was hillier than I expected and I hurt my ankle the evening before running to catch a ferry. Added to which, I decided not to jeopardize my chances of running well in Newfoundland by pushing too hard and injuring myself.

Taking everything into account then, 4:49 was "perfect" result - in as much as it was as fast as I could run all things considered. I didn't achieve my goal of running sub-4:30 but my performance wasn't a total failure. I finished my seventh marathon, for goodness sake. I can choose to be disappointed about my finish time or celebrate my "perfectly imperfect" achievement instead.

Which is not to say that we should never try to do better in future - only that there's no point being angry with ourselves or others when things don't turn out the way we hope. It's easy to say "I/they could have done better" but the truth is I/they couldn't. Given who we are, the knowledge and capacities we have, the things we've experienced and the circumstances in which we find ourselves, we're all doing the best we can.

That's something I'll try to keep in mind as I complete my training for Cape to Cabot. The race is just over 4 weeks away now and, based on how I'm feeling at the moment, it's hard to imagine I'll finish. However, last week I read an article in Runner's World that talks about how to prepare for races scheduled a few weeks apart. The author suggests the best approach is follow a training plan that enables you to recover fully from your first event while maintaining/improving your capacity to tackle the second. She also suggests that you be realistic in your expectations. Running back to back races in a single season is tougher than running a single race so you should expect to run them more slowly than you would just one race.

The article goes on to say that the first week between races should be all about recovery. That was certainly the case for me last week. I only ran three times and spent a lot of time doing other things I enjoy - eating, sleeping, walking, taking pictures and riding my motorcycle. (Here's one of the photos I took during my ride Saturday afternoon.)

Lighthouse Park, Port Medway

I ran my longest run on Sunday - a 13k to Peace Park and back. Since it was a warm sunny day, I donned my Maritime Race Weekend buff and most serious hot weather running gear, determined to feel like a "real" runner.

Unfortunately, dressing the part didn't help much. The first 5 or 6k felt good but then - wham - I hit the wall. My heart rate soared, my legs felt like lead weights and my motivation dropped through the floor. I made it home under my own steam - but only by taking more walk breaks than usual. I suspect the trouble was partly that the weather was muggy and I was dehydrated from too much wine and coffee the day before but it was still pretty discouraging. In any case, after all the R&R I've had the past 10 days, I'm hoping that I'm now ready to get back into more serous training and my long run this coming weekend will feel easier.

After the run, Husband and I headed to Risser's Beach where we visited with my mum and took a few pictures. Here's one of me on the boardwalk that crosses the marsh behind the beach. I love the colours this time of year.

And here's one looking back the other way toward Petite Riviere.

This is my favourite shot from the outing.

En route home, I stopped at Crescent Beach to grab a few photos of this kitesurfer. I love the way his bright red kite "pops" against the bright blue sky.

It's was nice having  more time for photography and other things last weekend but I'm looking forward to getting back into training. I need a couple of good hilly runs under my belt before I toe the start line at C2C. I'll let you know how it goes.

Happy running and writing, friends!

Running lessons: Tough runs teach me a lot!

From the top of the biggest hill  - the photo doesn't really do it justice

Today's long run was all about form, strategy and pacing. There was a 23k run on my schedule and my friend, Janet, suggested I run up the Conquerall Mills Rd. so I'd have the experience of running some serious hills before Husband and I head for St. John's in October. She warned me the route was a tough one and she was right. Here's the elevation chart created by my garmin:

Over 23.4 kms, I climbed and descended 577 metres. The route wasn't quite as challenging as the one I'll face in Newfoundland - particularly since Cape to Cabot finishes with a nasty climb to the top of Signal Hill - but it was a darn good test of whether I'm likely to survive what's billed as "the toughest race in eastern North America", and I'm happy to report that I did just fine. I won't attempt this route again between now and the marathon on September 13th but will try to run it at least twice more before C2C. 

I was thinking about a few things during my run today. The first was how important it is to remember that, hard as the run was, I have no right to complain about it. After all - I chose to do it. The burning in my lungs and legs as I climbed the hills and the aches I feel as I sit writing this are the direct results of choosing to train for two big races this fall.  

By contrast, a couple of people close to me are undergoing cancer treatments at the moment. They didn't choose the discomforts they're experiencing. They didn't choose to be faced with a decision to be treated or risk losing their lives. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to wake up every morning for months knowing that they have no option but to undergo radiation and/or chemotherapy treatments that are likely to make them feel pretty ill for awhile. Given what they're up against, how can I feel anything but grateful that I'm well and strong enough to train for a couple of tough races? My aches and pains are the price I pay for that privilege.

Another thing I thought about was how often people (including me) avoid taking responsibility for our choices - particularly when things don't turn out the way we expect. Of course, it's often easier to blame other people or factors beyond our control than to accept that we exercised poor judgment or made bad decisions. I get that (boy, do I get that!) but it's rarely helpful to think of oneself as a victim and/or to sling mud at others. In general, the better option is to acknowledge and accept responsibility for those choices, get on with finding ways to improve the situation, make amends as needed and commit to doing better next time. 

Finally, I was thinking about how important it is to have good strategies for coping when times get tough.Throughout my run today, I did my best to focus on keeping a positive attitude, running at a moderate pace, and maintaining good form. 

For the reasons I've already mentioned, keeping a positive attitude wasn't difficult, but I struggled with pace and form. Like many runners, I have a tendency to speed up when climbing a hill. It's natural to want to reach the top as quickly as possible but I've learned that the better strategy when facing a series of tough hills is to moderate my pace so there's something left in the tank when it's time to tackle the next one. 

As for my form, I can't count the number of times I reminded myself to drop my shoulders and let my arms swing naturally - particularly, when a thunderstorm blew up and I became worried about the possibility of lightning. Fortunately, though there was plenty of rain and thunder, the lightning never arrived but my anxiety about it reinforced my natural tendency to hold tension in my shoulders.

Of course, the same is true when we're faced with other kinds of challenges in life. Magic solutions rarely present themselves. Instead, it's a matter of keeping a positive attitude, acting with integrity and doing the best we can in the circumstances. If we work hard and have good coping skills and a supportive network of family, friends and colleague, things usually work out in the end.

Phew. That's a lot of heavy stuff for one day. What can I say? I guess tough runs encourage me to think a little more seriously about thing than easier ones do. In any case, below is a rundown of my training for the past week. 

Total mileage: 38.4 kms

Total # runs: 3 

Longest run: 23.4 kms

Hill training: 8 x hills

Tempo run: 1 x 6kms

Oh, and here's a picture from my run today. I call it "Clandestine". Doesn't it look like they're whispering to one another?

Happy running and writing, friends.

Running lessons: Pay attention to the signs

It's funny how people can ignore things they don't want to see. I guess that's why we need signs in odd places - like these two on the quiet laneway that leads into Peace Park. When I noticed them on Sunday, I wondered why on earth they were there. There's never much traffic in the park and it's mostly used by families with kids and dogs. Is it really necessary to tell drivers to slow down?

Of course, even when there are signs, people sometimes choose to ignore them. A couple of weeks ago, Husband and I were at the beach and noticed a large family scale a fence and clamber across the dunes to the beach - despite a huge sign attached to the fence admonishing them to stay off the dunes. I found it astonishing that parents would set such a poor example for their kids but I guess the extra two minutes it would have taken to walk to the boardwalk was too great an inconvenience.  :-(

Running lessons: Making lemonade out of lemons

Less than a week until race day and I feel miserable - not the usual "I'm in tapering hell" miserable, but the "coughing, hacking, I can barely breathe" miserable.  No, that's an exaggeration.  That's how I felt yesterday. Today, after a decent night's sleep, I finally feel I've turned the corner and will eventually recover from the flu that laid me low for most of the past week. It's a weird one too. It started with a slight tickle in my chest that turned to three days of coughing and chest congestion before moving into my nose and ears. Yuck.

Anyway, as I sat in a chair on the front porch yesterday, reading and wheezing, I told myself it was a good time to try turning lemons into lemonade - to remind myself that at least my legs would be fresh come race day. I have to admit I still toyed with the idea of going for a short run to see if I could clear the gunk from my lungs but a quick on-line search convinced me it wasn't a good idea. And news this morning that two young people collapsed (and one of them died) at the Toronto Scotiabank Marathon yesterday was a sobering reminder that it would have been foolhardy to run when my lungs and heart were already working overtime to clear this nasty bug.

It was hard not to run this past weekend. Spring has finally sprung and buds and blossoms are bursting everywhere you look. I made it off the porch yesterday just long enough to grab a few photos of the massive forsythia in front of our house. In the greyness of a Nova Scotia spring, forsythia bring a welcome splash of colour - which likely explains why they're so ubiquitous in this part of the world.

The only other outing I had this weekend was on my motorcycle. We stayed in the city Friday night because I felt too miserable to travel and Husband wanted to get some work done on the kitchen renovation Saturday morning. Around noon, it was so warm and lovely, I couldn't resist firing up my motorbike (I still need to pick a name for her) to go for a first short spin of the season.  My destination was Eastern Passage, a small community at the mouth of Halifax Harbour, where I stopped for a minute to grab a photo.

That's Devil's Island in the far distance. I've never visited it but, even from so far away, you can tell it's a fascinating place. Apparently, there were still people living there as recently as 2000 - a couple of Norwegian artists who hurriedly left under mysterious circumstances. I bet there's a story there.

In summary, it wasn't great week of running, but at least I'm on the mend and my legs will be fresh when I start the marathon on Sunday. And it was pleasant spending the past few days being gentle with myself, reading, taking pictures, exchanging messages with friends, and following updates from fellow runners tackling their first races of the season.  (On that note, hats off to the Blonde who successfully completed her first 50k trail race on Saturday! Way to go, girl!!) Fingers crossed that I feel well enough to go for an easy test run around the lake tomorrow night after work.

For the running geeks in the crowd, here are the stats for last week:

Total distance: 13k
Total # runs: 2
Longest run: 8k
Tempo run: 1 x 8k

P.S. The other fun thing I did last week was take my 12 year old niece to see "Legally Blonde" at Neptune Theatre. It was a terrific production and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. I've been humming tunes from the show ever since but this one in particular stuck in my head. Hilarious! Enjoy!

Running lessons: Dial down the drama

Last weekend's weather wasn't at all spring-like. In fact, Friday evening brought wet snow and rain that froze over night, before being covered by a soft layer of white Saturday morning. It was pretty to look at (see above) but downright dangerous to run on - though, fortunately, the trails in Shubie Park (where I completed 11 of 20 kms) provided mostly good footing.

Given the icy conditions and the fact I was so tired from another busy week of work and marathon training, it was tempting to see the situation in a more dramatic light than conditions warranted - to tell myself that I was too tired, that the roads and sidewalks were dangerously slippery, that I shouldn't be running the trail by myself, etc. Fortunately, one of the things I've learned over the years is that dialing up the drama rarely helps. When things start to feel tough, the better option is usually to dial down the drama, stay positive, keep things in perspective, and treat others and myself with as much kindness and respect as I can muster.

The same is true in the rest of life too, of course. Which is why I don't understand people who seem to go out of their way to create more drama in difficult circumstances. You know the ones I mean - people who relentlessly characterize others' motives in the worst possible light, tell stories that seem designed only to upset, constantly paint themselves and/or others as victims, and take an unhealthy interest in the misfortunes of others. I've never understood it. In my experience, life is dramatic enough as it is, thank you very much.

A case in point:  My only brother was diagnosed with oral cancer six years ago and had to undergo major surgery to have a good chunk of his tongue removed and rebuilt. When our family learned the news, we immediately switched to crisis management mode. There were no histrionics, no endless talk about the things could go wrong, no using the situation as an excuse for emotional diarrhea. Instead, everyone just stepped up - calmly and quietly - to help in any way they could, putting their own needs and feelings on hold until the crisis had passed.

So what is it that compels some people to do things to dial up the drama in such challenging situations - even one in which they're not directly involved?  Does it feed their egos somehow? Is it an attempt to avoid dealing with challenges in their own lives? Or are they simply bored, selfish and in need of entertainment? Whatever the motivation, their behaviour seems remarkably insensitive and unhelpful to me. After all, when people are hurting, the last thing they need is to have salt rubbed in their wounds.


In closing, a few quotes that seem appropriate:

We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.
- Dolly Parton

To practice five things under all circumstances constitutes perfect virtue; these five are gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness, and kindness. - Confucius

Taking on too much of other people's drama is just a poor excuse for not taking ownership and control over your own life. - José N. Harris

Some people create their own storms and get mad when it rains. - Unknown

And a  brief update on last week's training:

Total # of runs: 4
Total distance: 41 kms
Longest run: 20 kms
Hill training: 1 x 5 hills
Tempo runs: 1 x 8 kms
Other training: yoga (1.5 hours)

Happy running and writing!