I was promised sun. I was told if I ran UP, there would be sun. Warm sun. Bright sun. Glowing sun. Big Ring had spent all Sunday morning up at the road hockey courts, and he assured me the entire game was under the watchful eye of Mr. Sun.
You don’t need your running fleece, he said.
You don’t need your running gloves, he chortled.
Your winter socks? Your ear warmers? Nah, you don’t need those.
It’s going to be sunny!
But when I looked out the window, all I could see was nothing. A cold, thick, creepy grey haze of nothing. The fog was so incredibly thick and unmoving, it was hard to believe any sun rays could break through that. But Big Ring assured me there was sun to be found. So, the running fleece, gloves and winter socks all stayed home. (I wasn’t yet ready to leave behind the ear warmers.) And off I went for my afternoon run.
I ran up 12th, which is a suck-bum hill to start a run on. Still foggy. I jogged over and up the Crosstown Greenway. Still foggy. I got onto the BC Parkway. Still foggy.
This fog was not lifting; if anything it was getting even more thick and creepy. For the most part I was the only person on the pathway, aside from the odd person here and there, and I started thinking about the scene. It had the tones of a b-rate horror flick! And I started thinking about those annoying characters who are running through a park, completely oblivious of their surroundings, just before unsuspectingly becoming the victim of a brutal murder. I was NOT about to let that happen. For every person I approached I started making mental notes of everything they were wearing from hat to shoes, if they were carrying a backpack, their salt-and-pepper goatees, the kind of dog they had with them – if someone was gonna try and off me, and I actually survived, they were going down!
But I digress 😀
About half way through the run I started questioning my location. It was a new route for me, and I wasn’t familiar with the area, and my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. I pulled out my iPhone, and sure enough, somewhere along the route I’d made a turn I shouldn’t have, and was way off from where I should have been. Not a big deal, not a huge deal, I’d just turn around and double back…
But wait, remember that fog? It was still there. I turned around and it was WHITE RABBITS everywhere. I had no idea where I was, which way I needed to go back, where I needed to turn, nothing – and I was cold!!! Bright red, bone-chilled hands cold!
I eventually did find my way back home, and only 1.3 km off from the total distance I had intended. It wasn’t the route I had wanted, it wasn’t the temperature I had wanted, it wasn’t the distance I had wanted. But, when I was sucking back my hot tea after, and thinking about the me just a couple years ago in a situation like this, and how I would have been like infinity km off from the distance I had wanted, and would probably still be trying to find my way home. This, my friends, was directional progress: Wahoo!
- 2 p.m. BG before: 12.1
- Carbs: none
- Temp. basal: -50 per cent
- Distance: 11.31 km
- Average pace: 5:35 min/km
- Time: 1:03:12
- 3:30 p.m. BG after: 3.4