“Well hello there Mr. Sneakers, how are you today?“
“Me too! Want to know why?“
Because after days and weeks of my dear Mr. Sneakers being forced into isolation against his will, and gathering dust in the bike room closet where all the other no-longer used running shoes are stored, breaking my heart with every forlorn howl he made, it all came to an end today. Finally, Mr Sneakers and I (best buddies!) were reunited. And what a reunion it was. I wiped his tears away, laced him up, and together we frolicked in the streets.
It took 10 days, 5 of which were spent in bed, 6 movies, half a book, and 4 straight episodes of Tru Blood before I finally crested the sickness hump. My gawd! I was going insane. I was becoming stir crazy, miserable, guilty with lack of exercise, and my nose, oh man, did it ever hurt! (Baby Cheeks (all natural, lavender and vanilla scented) best thing EVER for a chapped nose).
When I woke up this morning, and didn’t feel phlegmy in my throat, or grodies in my nose, and wasn’t hacking a raspy smoker’s cough, I nearly screamed with glee. I ran straight to Mr. Sneakers to tell him the good news. Had Mario (always the voice of reason) not been there, we would have laced up then and there, pajamas and all, no breakfast, and headed out. But alas, we were convinced energy was needed.
- 10 a.m. BG before: 11.8
- Temp. basal: None.
- Distance: 10.45 km
- Average pace: 6:44 min/km
- Time: 1:10:23
- @8.5 km BG: 4.7 (piece of chocolate and turned off basal for 1/2 hour)
- 11:30 a.m. BG after: 6.9
I didn’t really have a plan going out this morning as I wasn’t sure how I would fare given that I’ve spent the last several days horizontal. I knew I wanted to go for a longer run; I’d been off for far too long to wimp out with lesser mileage. But I just didn’t know how my energy would hold.
I decided to run somewhat linear and see how far my legs would take me. And you know, for a city that is small like New Westminster is (just 15.3 square kilometres) it’s got an awful lot of districts. Mr. Sneakers and I ran along the Quay, down Columbia, through Queens Park, past the Brewery District (there was no beer) into Sapperton, and along the outskirts of Massey Victoria Heights – and that was just in the first 6 km! Good golly.
As great as this reunion run was, and it was, I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that there were moments of disgruntlement. For the first 3 km, I felt like everyone around me could hear me huffing and puffing, which is annoying at the best of times. Mind you, I didn’t dwell on that one for too long given that the first 3 km are usually the shake out kilometres anyway. But when I was defeated three quarters of the way up 2 hills, I was pissed off. I love hills; I’m a hill runner; I’m competitive up hills; I’m like the Contador of hills. A war began in the depths of my brain:
What the heck are you doing walking up the last quarter of those two hills?
How much of a wimp are you?
Seriously, you’re going to let grandpa over there pass you?
And if that wasn’t enough, I then I started berating myself for berating myself. I mean seriously, I was horizontal for almost 2 weeks, and for 3 weeks before that, I was only doing 4 km runs – what the frick was I expecting? Seriously?
But once I was able to get past that, and find that excitement I started out with, me and Mr. Sneakers were able to continue our most glorious, celebratory run. And such a run would not have been complete without the reward of a pain au chocolate and Jingle Bell tea at the River Market on the Quay, which I am seriously loving these days.
What are you loving today?