NaNoBloPoMo (Nov 11) Remembering why we are able to climb mountains and enjoy the view

Yesterday my husband and I were in Banff, Alberta on a mini-vacation together. As we're still new to the province and the mountains are so close, we decided to take advantage of the three-day holiday to do a little exploring together.

Our initial plan had been to hike to the Agnes Tea House at Lake Louise, but once the Parks Canada rep told us there was a risk of avalanches this year, we decided to change our plans at the last minute. Instead, we opted for the Tunnel Mountain hike.

Based on my reading of the map, this was rated as an easy hike targeted at all levels. Imagine our surprise, then, when the trail started at a steep, snowy incline, and kept on going up...and up...and up, switching back and forth along the mountainside until we were so high if you looked too fast you'd get vertigo.

We made it to the summit after about an hour and a bit, having stopped for multiple photo opps - the view was that breathtaking. I'd been carrying a 10lb backpack with fluids and extra clothing, so I'd found the climb a little challenging and spent much of it out of breath.

But the climb to the top was well worth it, with views of mountain-ringed valleys on either side and Banff Village far below. On one of the mountain peaks across the way, you could see snow being blown off the top in white whisps. Even though the winds were cold up there, we stood there for long moments just soaking in the view.

It was by far the best hike we'd ever been on together. Standing there at the top of the mountain, surrounded by other towering peaks, I could hardly believe that this is where we live now. We felt miles, even countries away.

The climb back down was perhaps just as difficult, with snow and ice making us having to watch our footing and me landing on my behind a few times. Back at the car, we took another look at the map again, only to find that what we'd thought was an easy hike was actually rated moderate. We'd travelled almost 5 kilometres round trip in about two hours and climbed 1,650 metres.

By the end of the day, we left Banff feeling infinitely grateful that we lived in a province where these kinds of experiences are just an hour and a half away from home.

Reflecting on it today, I also felt grateful that my husband and I are not only healthy enough to be able to tackle what really was a relatively challenging hike, but also that we live in a country where we have the freedom to have such experiences.

It brought to mind a book I recently read, I Am Malala, by Malala Yousafsai. In it, Malala describes how she, her father and her classmates received threats for even heading out on a picnic together. The girls were accused of unseemly behaviour, and we all know how her tale continues, with Malala being shot for even demanding that she and her female classmates have an education, let alone being allowed to have picnics without fear.

All the more telling, then, that our hike occurred on Remembrance Day - a day marked to recognize the sacrifices of the brave women and men (like my grandfather, who cycled to an airplane factory each night during the war to build planes, and whose roof was blown off when a bomb landed in the front yard one night while my father, at two or three years old, slept in a drawer under the cupboard as a makeshift bomb shelter) who fought for us to have the freedom we enjoy today.

How lucky we are, here in Canada, to be able to walk up a mountainside with no fear, and to be able to stand at its summit surrounded by unimaginable beauty.

For that freedom, I am infinely grateful.

~ HRG

There will be runs where it all makes sense...

It's no secret from the less-than-frequent nature of my posts since arriving in Calgary that my running has been...less than frequent. Unlike when I moved to Halifax and I joined a running group immediately to get to know the city, with this move I've instead focused on getting involved a wide range of activities - anywhere from hiking in the province's many provincial parks with my husband, to cycling around our small town, not to mention getting back in touch with my dance background by taking up a few dance-related classes at GoodLife.

But in the last few weeks I'll admit I've started to feel some interest in getting back into my running routine. Perhaps it's hearing about everyone's fall race plans, perhaps it's just that I've finally had enough time away from running to make me miss it (because absence makes the heart grow fonder) or perhaps it's that as I look ahead to my plans for my 40th birthday (which includes running a marathon to mark this milestone) I realized that if I want to accomplish that goal, I need to start training now. Plus, the weather has just been so gorgeous - how could I not want to head outside and run around and enjoy the fall colours and autumn smells?

Whatever the case, over the last few weeks I've been building a few runs back into my schedule - 3k here, 5k there, 4k another time...They haven't been easy - in fact I'm constantly amazed at just how different running is from any other sport and how it requires you to keep at it if you want to succeed, no matter how many other sports or activities you engage in. But they've definitely gotten my brain thinking about running again, which it hadn't done in some time.

So on Saturday, I headed out for a 3k run. And it was decidedly not easy. My legs felt tired by the end of it, but rather than feel dismayed I took this as a sign that I need to get back at 'er and get those distances in. The following day, I found myself researching a winter half marathon in Calgary and a spring marathon, and calculating the time I would need to get myself back into fighting shape.

Tonight after work, although I had no plans to go for a run - I was actually changing out of my home office attire (flannel pants and a sweater) into clothes to go grocery shopping for dinne, when all of a sudden I was struck by an urge to pull out my running shorts and t-shirt instead, no matter how hungry I found myself.

So on went the running clothes and shoes, and I headed out the door for a 6k run, Garmin on wrist and iPod in hand. As with Saturday, I found my calves and shins cramping and my pace slow for most of the run. But something inside me knew that I could do it, if I tried - no matter the little demons in my head telling me that I'd been away from it for too long and couldn't do it, or the pain in my legs. For some reason - maybe it was the golden autumn sunshine beaming down on me - those voices seemed to get quieter and quieter as the run went on.

Before long, I was turning right at a corner instead of heading straight to the finish that would mark 6k, so that I could tack on an extra kilometre on my run. My legs felt less pained, and I managed to pick my tempo up just a smidgeon. All of a sudden, 8kms seemed doable, although I decided to play it safe and stick at 7.

Not only was I thrilled with the result, despite my slower than usual pace from a few months ago, I found this run incredibly insightful. It was one of the more meaningful runs I've had in some time, with the latter half of the run being full of lessons - some new, some that I'd just forgotten:

1. You only fail if you don't try: sure, I could have gone grocery shopping instead of running tonight. But the very fact that I opted to lace up my sneakers instead was a win in itself, no matter what the result.

2. Just because it hurts doesn't mean it's difficult: this is a lesson I've learned over the years through my yoga practice - the ability to separate physical sensation from mental effort. Sure, it hurt tonight, but I also knew that it probably hurt because I hadn't done it in a while. In fact when I did a mental check of my body, although my legs felt strained, they still had strength in them, and my breathing felt relaxed and easy. That mind-body awareness isn't always possible, but when you're able to separate the physical from the mental, it makes things a whole lot easier.

3. It gets easier with time: that means both on the run itself, and over the course of weeks and months of training. I have learned over the years that if you give a run enough time, your muscles loosen up and the pain starts to dissolve. It's just a matter of persevering until you hit that sweet spot in a run and things feel easier. Same with training: over time, any distance becomes more manageable. But you have to put the effort in to get there.

4. It's about the journey: some runs just aren't going to be your fastest. Sometimes, it's just about getting out there and getting the distance in, and forgetting that the virtual partner on your Garmin is beating you. If you're struggling with pace on a run, it'll feel that much more enjoyable if you can just ignore your partner's little whirring legs.

5. The power of more: a few years ago I read Marnie McBean's book by the same title, about how athletes are driven by the idea of "just a little more." If you tell yourself you're only going to run 3k, as I did on Saturday, then chances are that you'll only run 3k. But if you set your sights a little farther, for a little bit more, then chances are that you'll accomplish more. Tonight was a great example of the power of more.

6. It's about runs where it all makes sense: not every run's going to be easy. In fact there may be weeks or even months where you wonder why the heck you do it, and you want to quit. And sometimes, it's ok to step away from running for awhile and take a break to enjoy other pastimes. But every so often, you have a run like today - where you either learn a ton about yourself or you just feel like a gazelle with wings on (that wasn't me, although I've had those days) - and you finish the run with a blast of endorphins knowing that this is why you run. And it's those somewhat elusive runs that keep me coming back to running, time and again.

7. I run because I'm able to: it's something that so many runners say and that I try to remind myself often. The simple fact that we are healthy and able enough to get out there and run, no matter what our pace our distance, is a gift in itself that I often forget to cherish. But on runs like today, I remember how fortunate I am to be healthy, active and fit. And that fills me with gratitude.

That doesn't mean that I won't have days and times when I feel like stepping away from running for awhile. I'm sure it will happen again - I'm just not a consummate runner like some are, and I enjoy other activities far too much to give them up. I also enjoy having times when I'm not entirely consumed by running and all that is running-related. But I know that it will always have a place in my life, in some form or other, because I've been fortunate to have runs like today's, where I understand what it's all about.

Happy trails, running friends!

~ HRG

T-minus15 days till race day, and counting! Shout-out to race organizers

On Saturday I made my usual stop by the Spring Garden Road Running room to stock up on gels for Sunday's run. I ran into Bruce Bowen, the store manager. Usually Bruce is a pretty chipper dude, and in fact in the five years or so that I've known him, I've never seen him stressed or upset.

Yesterday was a little different. Bruce admitted that the venue he'd used in the past for the post-race brunch had fallen through, and he now had two weeks to sort it out.

"It'll get done," he said a little glumly.

I have absolutely no doubt that Bruce will indeed get 'er done, and that he'll have the support of the entire running community behind him, if that's what it takes

But it brought home to me how rarely I take the time to think about the people who organize races and running events, and all of the time and effort they put in to ensure that we can enjoy safe, organized races.

So thank you, race organizers! Whether it's a small local run or a large event, the truth is, we couldn't race without you!

- HRG

T-minus 16 days till race day, and counting: Run-dancing and the League of Funny Walks

The countdown till race day is still on, but I have to say that my goals are getting more and more realistic, with the cold and slippy weather we've had. I'm starting to think of race day as not so much a race, as an opportunity to get outside and enjoy the day with several hundred other runners, in the middle of winter.

For day T-minus 16, since it was Friday, I swapped a run on the treadmill with one of my favourite classes - Zumba. As anyone who has seen me at a party can attest, I just love to dance, and I don't care who's watching. If that means that I'm also burning calories and getting a good workout, so much the better!

I also love Zumba because it's so great to see women (and the occasional man) of all ages and abilities getting out there and having fun. It's got to be one of the greatest ways to exercise out there.

In fact, I love dancing so much, that sometimes I think I should invent a way to dance and run at the same time. It would be a faster version of dance-walking.

Actually that's not true - sometimes I have caught myself bopping to the music while I run - I just haven't done anything quite as outlandish as the League of Funny walks - yet. But maybe if the going gets tough on race day and I want to distract myself, I might just try it.

How's your training going? How did you handle the cold weather this week?

- HRG

PS - One last thing, before I sign off and head to yoga class: this week, my blog surpassed 1,000 page views for the first time ever. And maybe it's just me being a nerd, but I have to say it was a pretty neat feeling. It was a sign, to me at least, that I'm not just sending my writing into the void.

But I couldn't have done it if there weren't others out there who were taking the time to read my rambling thoughts (and sometimes, sharing their comments and insights).

So thank you, fellow readers. You make me feel like someone's listening, and that means a lot.

T-minus 22 days till race day, and counting: three things yoga has taught me

On Saturdays, I usually opt out of a run and instead enjoy a yoga or cross-training class.

Given that my hubby and in-laws bought me 20 classes at Halifax Yoga, I took the opportunity to do some breathing and stretching today in a Yin:Yang class.

I've been taking yoga for more years than I've been running seriously, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that I will never stop learning lessons about myself and my yoga practice, no matter how many years I practice. Yoga is so much more than flexibility and strength; it's very much more an inner meditative practice. And the more you understand that, the more the lessons learned on the mat can be transferred to life situations off the mat - including running.

The instructor in today's class (Stephanie) was doing a great job of talking us through the class and helping us to think past the performance of yoga, and into the opportunities for inner growth. I'll admit: sometimes some of the yoga talk can seem a little hokey, if you don't take the time to really think about it. But three things stood out to me today as lessons that can be applicable to running, and to life in general:

1) Stop trying to go places, and instead enjoy being in the moment: After a series of sun salutations A and B, our instructor asked us to move from Reverse Warrior, into Triangle Pose. My initial response was, "I know exactly what she means. I've done this so many times before, with no problem, and I'm flexible." So without any hesitation, I leaned forward, shifted my hips back, and placed my right hand on my right foot, with my left hand reaching up and my heart opening up to the ceiling.

Only to find out that the rest of the class was still waiting for Stephanie to guide them from the lean into the pose. "Hang out here for five breaths, and enjoy this sensation," she said. "So often, we are rushing from one thing to the next - I need to go grab my Tim Hortons in the morning. I need to go watch my TV show at the end of the day," she said.

But by making us hang in that in-between spot between Reverse Warrior into Triangle, Stephanie drove home an important lesson: enjoy being in that in-between; in the now. So often we are rushing to go from Point A to Point B, and all of a sudden we realize that minutes, hours or even years have passed by.

The same is true of running - instead of focusing on the experience of being outside with friends and fellow runners, I'm often so focused on just getting to the end of a run. I want to make it to that 12, 16 or 18k (or more), so I plug in my earbuds and focus on ticking down the kilometres till my Garmin tells me, mission accomplished. But it's also important to remember to slow down, forget the Garmin, and enjoy the day and the surroundings.

I've sometimes made a point of bringing a camera along with me for a long run and taking photos of neat things along the way (like on this 23k run a few years ago - I saw so many things I'd never noticed before, even though I'd been running the same loops for weeks, even months).

Whatever it is - whether it's bringing a camera along, or leaving your Garmin behind; take time every so often to just stop and reflect on how lucky we are to live in a city like Halifax, where the ocean is at our doorstep and salt runs through our veins. And we are lucky to be able to put one foot in front of the other, and run - no matter how fast, or what the distance.

2) We have so much: From Triangle, we did a few Vinyasas, and eventually flowed into Side Angle pose. "Now, just try lifting up all ten toes," Stephanie guided. "We have so much."

When you're hanging out with one hand on the ground behind a bent leg, and one arm up in the air, your heart straining to shine up to the ceiling, trying to tuck both hips under you while keeping your back leg straight and your back foot firmly on the ground, having an instructor ask you to lift all ten toes up may seem like asking too much, as sweat trickles down your forehead and your muscles start to strain.

But today, for whatever reason, Stephanie's message hit home to me: the very fact that I was able to hang out in such a pose and lift my toes suddenly seemed like such a gift, when I reflected on the young boy in a wheelchair I'd only just seen this morning in Tim Horton's (yes, rushing to get my morning tea before class...the irony of it), or when I thought about the mother of a former friend who'd passed away only a few days earlier after years and years and years of struggling with her weight and mental and emotional issues.

Suddenly, being able to lift up all ten toes while stretched out in Side Angle pose seemed miraculous.

So, too, is the ability to walk or run any distance at will. To be able to get up on a Sunday morning and drive to a local run club and hit the road for a few kilometres for a few minutes, or a few hours...

We are so lucky. It doesn't hurt to remember what sometimes seems cliche: we have our health. So many others do not.

The next time I grumble about heading out for a run, because I'm tired, or I've had a long day at work, I hope that I remember the miracle of lifting up ten toes in the middle of a yoga class.

3) You choose your reality: From Side Angle, we did a few more sun salutations, and then moved into the Yang portion of the class, which Stephanie started with Dolphin, then eventually Half Dragon.

As a runner, I know that any stretches involving hamsrtrings or quads will be a challenge, even though as a former dancer and gymnast I also realize that I'm quite flexible. That said, running has tightened my hamstrings and I've got some built up scar tissue on my right quad, due to a very old gymnastics injury.

So when Stephanie asked us to pull our right leg through in front of us, plant our foot and lean into our leg, and to feel the sensation in not only our hamstring but also our left quad, I was a little reluctant to stay in the posture for three minutes, as tends to be the case in Yin yoga.

But then she told us a story about walking to school with her son yesterday morning, uphill (which in Purcells Cove means it was a big hill). She had been counting down the minutes till she would reach the top of the hill, and not really enjoying the walk. Then her five-year-old son looked at her and said, "Never give up, mommy."

Oh, the fresh innocence of youth is sometimes astounding.

"You choose how you react in the now," said Stephanie. "You could be miserable, and walking in the cold and damp outside. Or you could just be walking in the cold and damp."

Slowly, as I breathed in and out in Oujaii breath, the pain in my legs ceased being pain, and turned into sensation.

"You can't control those sensations, but you can control your breath," she continued.

I only hope that this lesson will serve me well on the road, when I am running and my legs feel sore and tired. I hope that I can choose to breathe through the pain, and simply see it as pain - and proof once again that I am alive, and lucky to be able to be running with my two legs beneath me.

As we finished the class and began to prepare for Shavasana, I remembered a meditative refrain I've learned in another class, which I often like to recite to myself in meditation:

May I be filled with loving kindness,
May I be well,
May I be peaceful, and at ease,
May I be happy.

So too, fellow runners, do I wish that you can be filled with loving kindness, that you may be well, that you be peaceful, and at ease, and above all else, that you may be happy.

Namaste

- HRG

Week 16/17: A rough tempo, Yasso 800s and gratitude for great running buddies!

Last Wednesday was my last speed work training session with our Running Room clinic before packing my bags and heading to Toronto and Port Hope, Ontario, to spend some time with family and friends before running in the Toronto GoodLife Marathon.

After dropping the car off at hubby's work, I met our group at the Running Room. It was a bit of a drizzly grey day, but not quite as cold as the previous week, when I'd had to wear my headband, gloves, a long-sleeved sweater and my jacket.

I was a little trepidatious about speedwork on that night, because the day before I'd done a tempo run with the group (three times around the North Commons) and my legs were feeling a little tender. I can always tell when my legs are tired (especially my calves and shins) when I start slapping my feet on the pavement like some kind of crazed penguin. Not gazelle-like at all!

I knew part of my fatigue on Tuesday had been largely due to Sunday's 32k run, so I chose not to worry. Also, despite our efforts to slow our pace on our tempo run, every time Carol looked at her Garmin (mine had died...again...) it seemed we kept speeding up. Andrea had told me that her 12-year-old son Luke had been reading my blog and said, "She needs to slow down." But sorry Luke, I failed at that again, until the pain in my legs forced me to slow down and walk for a bit.



Hence why I felt a little nervous about speedwork on Wednesday. But before we left the Running Room, Andrea handed me a card signed by her, Carol and Wendy - wishing me good luck for my marathon. I was sincerely touched that they'd done this for me, and I held on to my card as we headed down South Park Street to the SMU track at the Tower for speed/interval training.

Some of you may wonder, why start speedwork when we're three to four weeks away from race day? As Bruce explained it to us, we've spent close to 12 weeks building the base of our house - we developed a foundation with tempos and the walls with hills, and now we're putting on the roof of the house with speed/interval training.

From Bruce's email to us: "Up to this point the runs have been done at 1:30 below race pace for long runs to 20 seconds below for tempo. On the program the intervals are done at faster than race pace to prepare you for running at your race pace." 

For me, that means that while I've been doing my long runs at around 6:30-6:50 (for a four-hour finish) and my tempos at 5:30 to 5:45, my tempo should be around 5:26.

Number crunching aside, the point of interval training is to develop your VO2 max and get your body used to running at your maximum aerobic threshold.

Bruce had taught us a few speedwork drills last week, and we started off with them again: lunges for 10 metres, running with knees high for another 10, then running and kicking your butt for 10, then a short 10-metre sprint. I'd watched elite runners do all kinds of drills at the York University track way back in the day when all I could run was a few kilometres, and always wondered what they were doing. Cliff (a well-known Halifax running coach) and his runners were at the track too, and while I'll never be as fast as they are, it's still pretty cool to be eating their dust while we do our training. 

Following our drill, we did six reps of Yasso 800s. According to this, you can predict your marathon time based on how long it takes you to do 800 metres. So if I'm looking to do a four-hour marathon, I should be able to complete the 800 metres in four minutes.

The week before, I was a little sore, so I hadn't pushed myself on the track, but my pace had still been faster than what I'm trying to accomplish. Also, instead of doing 800s I had done 1,600s with a longer break in between. This time, I decided to give 'er on the Yassos, crank the tunes, and just see what happened.

Overall, my pace averaged about 4:47, which works out to 3:47 for 800 metres -- which according to Bruce Yasso translates to a  3h 47min marathon.

Based on that, I should be more than able to achieve my four-hour goal, but if you've read my first marathon story, you'll know that it's not all about the physical abilities. So much of it (I'd say 95% for me) is mental. Really, what matters is that I was feeling good. I may not have looked fast, but I felt it.

As I sprinted around the track on one of my laps, this time feeling a little more like a gazelle and less like a penguin (though a gazelle that was huffing and puffing...and when have you ever seen wildlife look like they're struggling on a run?), I looked up, only to see that Wendy was standing on the sidelines. She had told us that she would not be joining us as she was still recovering from Boston, so I was surprised to see her there. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something neon green from across the track.

As I neared Wendy, I saw that she was holding up a sign. I figured she'd come out to cheer on our group. But as I came closer, I read the words:



My pre-departure surprise from my fabulous running friends

As I rounded the corner on the track for my second lap of the 800 metres, I felt lighter -- as though little wings had sprouted on my shoes. I was Halifax Runner Girl, and I was going to rock this marathon! No matter that the speedsters in our group and Cliff's athletes were still running circles around me. I felt like the world's greatest runner.

It's amazing how knowing that there are folks who believe in you and care about you makes such a difference -- it can give you a boost more powerful than any gel or sport bean ever can. So if you're ever at a race standing on the sidelines, know that your presence there and your cheers do help make our feet lighter and the race easier.

Speedwork complete, I headed home to pack. Among the luggage I carried next morning, as I got into a taxi at an ungodly 4:45 am to take me to Toronto, were the two posters that Wendy had made for me so that my family can hold them up on race day (the other one says "Christine you rock!" :) ).

Although I may not actually catch a glimpse of them on the sidelines, I'll know they'll be there holding up those signs, and I'll also know that there will be a group of friends and my hubby cheering me on from Halifax. No matter how I finish, I'm so thankful for everyone's support and encouragement over these last 17 weeks. I'm grateful to have met a group of amazing friends and runners, and am ever thankful for their support.

Gratitude!

~ HRG