The running life of…Mark Armstrong (part two)

You know this is the real reason that you’ve been visiting alias basil…you’ve been waiting for the second installment from Mr Entertainment himself. And who am I to stand in the way? Here it is, part two of the running life of…Mark Armstrong.

Oprah’s lawyers called. Apparently, I can’t publish interviews that occur only in my mind. Please disregard part one.

The following is the real deal. Since I’m just getting back into the training groove and don’t have any sexy runs to share at this point, I’m going to tell you about one week I experienced last May, shortly before the Calgary marathon. Looking back, I am appalled at my laziness compared to Basil, A.J., and especially Brendan!

I warn you, it’s brief. Here it goes…

Monday May 18th: I always take Monday’s off from running due to a volunteer commitment at the Cross Cancer Institute. I love run-free days!

Tuesday May 19th: I meet Basil at Scona track. Nothing about this workout appeals to me – a short warm-up followed by 16×400 with one minute rest in between. Who thinks of these training plans? Basil makes it look easy. I aim for 75 seconds each rep. The ridiculous session ends with a cool down and me vomiting my lunch. I hate running on the track. Frickin’ track…

Wednesday May 20th: I’m on my own; no Basil to make sure I do what I’m supposed to. Ice cream is calling. Rum raisin. Yum. Somehow, I resist. If I can say no to ice cream, I can do anything. (Bacon would have been a different story.) I run a 16K loop that hits most of the worst hills in the city. What is that crap Lance Armstrong spouts off about – train in conditions harder than race day? Blah, blah, blah. I hate running hills.  Frickin’ hills…

Thursday May 21st: Today calls for an easy run. I take the trails on the south side of the river to Capilano bridge, cross over to the north side, and run the trails back to Cloverdale. Spring is late this year and the trees are barely leafed out; it feels like October, not May. I hate running the trails in October. Frickin’ trails in October…

Friday May 22nd: I meet Basil at Hawrelak Park for another speed session. Oh goody. We do a one loop warm-up followed by 50 minutes at marathon pace (3:53/K) and 30 minutes at half-marathon pace (3:39/K). Surprisingly, it goes okay. I hold the marathon pace perfectly and the half pace is near what it should be. Close enough for me to be happy. Then I remember that I’m never happy unless it’s perfect so I’m clearly just happy it’s over! We end with a one lap cool down. Woohoo - hometime….beer time!  I hate running in Hawrelak Park. Frickin’ Hawrelak Park….

Saturday May 23rd: No running today. Basil and I hook up for 1.5 hours of yoga at Lotus Soul Gym downtown. I love doing yoga instead of running.  Frickin’ running…

Sunday May 24th: Basil and I do 28K at what feels like race pace. Why do I run with this man? I hate long runs.  Frickin’ long runs…

Total mileage for the week: About 80K. Not bad - I usually average around 75. Compared to those previously featured at Alias Basil I’m minor league…

Lessons learned: Four things became clear: 1) I realize I actually love to run; 2) Hawrelak Park = pain; 3) Basil = pain, and; 4) Lance Armstrong may be right about training hard for an easy race day but I don’t like him for it.  Frickin’ Lance Armstrong…

Canada Day Road Race, 2009. 53:51, 5th overall. I think this may actually be the best race I have ever had....

Aside from my lovely wife Cheryl, Eva, a Blue Point Siamese, is my only true friend in life...

The microinformation post…(a.k.a. an homage to Twitter)

It’s hard being as important and interesting as me. I asked myself: “where do people go to proclaim how important and interesting they are?” The answer was clear: they go to Twitter. And so was born the microinfomation post. Note that in order for this to serve its intended purpose, everything below should be spoken in italics, with a slightly raised, singing, yet monotone voice. Ready?

6:32am: an alarm is going off in my dream; no, wait, it’s going off in my bedroom! Supposed to be getting up for a run. Afford myself the liberty of hitting snooze, once.

7:39am: oops! Looks like I am still in bed…finally get up, need to re-think the organisation of my day.

8:54am: realise I have my contact lenses in the wrong eyes! It’s gonna be a blurry day…

9:17am: eating breakfast at my desk! Breakfast is a bowl of mini (spoon-size) shredded wheat. People seem to feel the endless need to comment about me eating cereal at work.

10:31am: in a meeting, being very important! Deciding how to spend $1.5 million for our new physical sciences degree.

12:13pm: driving home for lunch and a run with my dogs, tweeting from my Blackberry. Wait, I don’t have a Blackberry! 

12:35pm: decided to go back to Goldbar/Goldstick with Poppy and Felix after all! Think that there is no chance of seeing a coyote in the middle of the day.

12:43pm: working my way up “refinery hill”! Poppy darts ahead. Now she’s nose to nose with a coyote! Luckily, the coyote is on the other side of the fence. The encounter is calm and inquisitive. As soon as the coyote sees me, it’s gone.

12:44pm: decide that if my wife gets angry about the incident at 12:43pm, I will offer to facilitate a discussion on one of the following incidents: (i) the toothpick; (ii) the pencil; (iii) the used condom.

1:38pm: realise that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast! Have a glass of Clamato juice - ”the works” – for lunch.

1:46pm: back in my office marking lab reports!

3:34pm: giving a lecture on stereochemistry. I rock!

5:16pm: finally on my way back home! Need to run again, but don’t want to disturb my dogs until I am home for good. Decide to avoid going into the house.

5:26pm: getting changed into my running kit in the back alley! Providing a little titillation for my neighbours.

5:51pm: on the back trails in Goldbar! Round a corner and there is yet another…coyote! It trots ahead of me on the trail for a good 20 seconds, looking back periodically. I am only about 10 metres behind when it darts into the bush. Serene!

5:52pm: decide that if my wife gets angry about the incident at 5:51pm, I will offer to facilitate a discussion on one of the following incidents: (i) the day I almost ran full-on into a grizzly bear in Banff; (ii) the day I was hit in the eye socket, whilst running, by a ball-bearing fired by a teenager armed with a black widow catapult (slingshot).

6:04pm: see the Fast Trax training group. I think that they are doing 3000 x 4 second repeats. It all looks a little chaotic.

6:05pm: remember that the incident at 6:04pm happened last week and that I may have used some creative licencing for my own amusement.

6:24pm: finally at home! Poppy and Felix are happy to see me! Well, wouldn’t you be?!

6:41pm: cooking lamb chops! Realise that I am bored with Twitter. Decide that this will be my last tweet. Will delete my account immediately and return to blogging.

The running life of…Mark Armstrong (part one)

What can I say? Another the running life of… that requires no introduction. We have ironed out all copyright issues, so I am pleased to announce that this week is the running life of…Mark Armstrong. Brace youselves…

The following is a transcript of a conversation I had with Oprah Winfrey the last time she got down on her knees and begged me for an interview. Tom Cruise appeared after me. He spotted me jumping up and down on the couch in the green room demonstrating my amazing dexterity and stole it for his bit. Next time he invites me to one of his parties, I`m not going.

OW: Were you always an amazingly gifted athlete with a huge humanitarian streak and a Fabio hairstyle?

MA: Oh stop it! I changed my hair years ago!

To tell the truth, I always had the ability to run for extended periods of time. Not super-fast, but fast. I would get beaten pretty bad in the 100, but any farther and I could hold my own. I grew up on an air force base and played soccer from the age of five until high school. I could sneak the ball up the right side of the field (I was a right winger) pretty darn well and scored a few goals…Scoring in high school was a bit more difficult.  I credit my running ability to my mother`s side of the family. She was a great high school runner, winning many competitions. I also credit my knack for not thinking too much. Ever. Especially when I am running. 

OW: How did you get your start in running, handsome?

MA: Please Oprah, we have been down this road before and I am happily married, OK? The first time I ever ran any distance was when I was visiting a friend in Calgary; he had just joined an upscale health club with a running track. He thought he could run farther and longer than me…he was wrong. (audience cheers as Mark gives the thumbs-up sign) I do not remember how long we ran, likely no more than an hour, but it felt like forever! I know I couldn`t walk properly for some time after. It`s funny, I spent many years racing motocross and running just did not seem very exciting. As I got older and more fragile, though, falling off a dirt bike became something I did not want to do. I fell off a lot! Broke an arm, lots of gashes…

Shortly after Cheryl and I got married, we joined the YMCA. The trainers set up a plan for us that involved using the various machines. You know the drill. Within a couple of weeks I was spending the whole exercise session on the track. I like the simplicity of running; one foot in front of the other, and yet, it is so much more than that. After a couple of months, I signed up for a 10K class through the Y.  It was March 2002. I’ll never forget how shocked I was to find out we were going to run outside. In the cold. In the snow. After the class ended, I entered a 10K race and have been at it ever since…except for some hiccups here and there due to injury. 

OW: A two part question. Has Armani chosen you for their new spokesperson and did you and Karl Lagerfeld have a big dust-up at a show in Milan?

MA: Next question.

OW: OK then, tell me about your spread in Runner’s World?

MA: You know how humble I am, Oprah, but they just kept hounding me. They were relentless. Finally, I thought, “We’ll, if that’s what the public wants…” I wasn’t my usual buff self when we shot the cover but it was the only time I could find in my crazy schedule to fit the shoot in.

OW: The magazine quoted you as saying you did not enjoy your first marathon. Is that true? What happened?

MA: It was June 22, 2003 – Race the Twilight Marathon. Some adman decided the marathon should start at 5:00 p.m. Stupid. Plain stupid. Anyway, I had no idea what I was getting myself into and what I was going to experience. I mean, I really thought it was going to be a cake walk! I felt great, even chatty, until 30K. Then the gels took effect in a bad way. Not only did I become instantly fatigued, but I also felt extremely ill. After I finished the race, I spent two+ hours getting intimate with a toilet in the Butterdome. I was in severe distress.  In retrospect, two good things came out of that day: it was my first encounter with the infamous, straw-toting AJ Rankel, and my finish time was fairly respectable at 3:03.26.

OW: I’ve been hearing rumors about you and a fellow named Jonathan Withey. I understand you and he spend a lot of time together.

MA: Our pets share a similar disorder. You could say we are a two man support group. 

OW: Every mega superstar has his share of setbacks. At Boston in 2006 you fractured your femoral neck and didn’t run for over a year. That must have been so painful – mentally and physically.

MA: I don’t want to sound super-human or anything, but no other human being could have withstood the pain I endured. If I believed in god, I would thank him for moving the pavement underneath my feet for twenty miles. But, since there is no god, it was all me, baby. Pure guts. I ended that race in a wheel chair and didn’t leave it for a week. I didn’t race again for a year, and didn’t return to my previous fitness for two years. I do not wish a femoral neck stress fracture on anyone. That is, unless you’re drawn to the idea of endless video games and full-fat ice cream…

OW: Where is your running at today?

MA: I’ve agreed to be a psychological coach to Ryan Hall; it’s nice to help the up-and-comers. Personally, I hooked up with another elite marathoner, who is faster than me but not nearly as good looking. (laughs) Seriously, I`ve logged the best performances of my professional career this last year, with some substantial cash payouts. I feel great. I look great. I am great.

OW:  I love your confidence, Mark. No wonder you get those fabulous endorsements!

MA: Yeah, I`ve just signed with Axe body spray. Trust me, the commercials are real. The chicks say I`m phat.

OW:  You certainly are! We love you Mark Armstrong! Promise me you won`t be so shy and join me again soon!!!

(Mark gives Oprah air kisses and waves to the audience before they cut to commercial)

Not the Littlest Hobo

Well, I guess that I will not be running with Poppy and Felix in Goldbar for a while…

I really enjoy running with my dogs. It’s also a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Taking the dogs on a run means I don’t have to make a separate trip to walk them. However, running with whippets is not without its challenges. It’s nearly impossible to run with them on-leash. They simply have too much unbound energy. And, of course, not all trails are “officially” off-leash.

And so I contravene the leash rules. But only in those areas where I think that won’t be bothersome (and, besides, I am not the only one). My usual running route with the dogs takes me along the trail from the 50th Street footbridge to the Rundle Park footbridge (off-leash). At this point, I usually cut up through Goldbar and onto the trails in and around Goldbar/Goldstick (technically all on-leash).

I always debate whether I am going to re-leash my dogs for the brief trip through Goldbar Park, before I hit the quieter ski trails. Usually I don’t bother and usually I get away with it. Not the case on Friday night. A cyclist was heading home from work and, ever the pursuer, Poppy gave chase. It always makes me laugh. Typically the cyclist will throw some insult my way and try to accelerate away. But Poppy is racing stock. She’s barely reached a canter. It can be a trifle embarrassing, particularly since I am clearly in the wrong.

Anyway, pursuit over, and we were back on our way. I thought that this would be the “one incident”, chalked-up on nearly ever dog walk/run, out of the way. But I was wrong. Heading up “refinery hill” (the one that takes you into Goldstick Park), I saw a coyote ahead on the trail. Poppy is a very enthusiastic greeter, and my immediate concern was that she would bolt to say hello. But before I had time to react, the coyote darted into the bush. Problem over? So I thought…

Almost at the same instant, I heard panicked barking behind me…I stopped and turned to see another coyote. Somehow, the whippets and I had come between a pair…and this second coyote was not happy. Further up the hill, the first coyote re-emerged onto the trail. Clearly, they wished to be re-united, and we were in their way. But there was no escape route for me – fence on one side, steep embankment on the other. I leashed the dogs and stood, mostly in awe, partly in fright. The coyotes were barking and growling very loudly and very aggressively. What to do?

I decided to walk slowly towards the most aggressive coyote. I figured this to be the best option in terms of not inciting any protective behaviour. As I approached, the coyote held its ground. Then, for some silly reason, I started to run – stamping my feet hard on the ground. At this point the coyote disappeared into the bush. But continued to bark until I was out of sight.

No word of a lie. No exaggeration or dramatisation. And no disrespect intended to Taylor Mitchell.

Needless to say my run ended quite abruptly. Some new route-planning might be in order. Poppy and Felix were happy to be home (though, to tell the truth, they couldn’t have told you the difference).

Note: another week in the running life of… will begin early in the new week! And, you are in for a real treat – still working through some copyright issues (this person is a real celebrity and a true elite athlete). Am also looking for new runners of the week so if you want to share your story, please contact me directly…

Mystery runners, Edmonton style!

A little fun for the weekend. Below are ten Edmonton-based runners, identified in part only. They are all men (I thought it might prove too risky to identify women in part only). It is worth noting that bonus marks will be awarded to those who not only correctly identify the mystery runners, but who also suggest appropriate nicknames. All in good spirit, of course. Let’s not take ourselves too seriously now…The winner will receive a completely useless pair of size 12.5 Mizuno Wave Elixir shoes (useless because they will likely not fit you!). Competition closes at 3pm on Sunday.

One 

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Just call my name, and I’ll be there

When I was 15 years old I dated a girl called Rebecca. But Mariah was the woman I dreamed about. I was obsessed with the cover of her MTV Unplugged album (I had it on cassette). I removed the cover from the case, and kept it in my wallet. This was the woman for me.

This album featured a cover of the Jackson 5 song I’ll be there. Mariah duetted with Trey Lorenz (who?!). The song went to number one in the charts. “Just call my name, and I’ll be there.” It got me thinking about how people find me. As a runner, the most logical place would be on the trails, particularly those east of the high level bridge in Edmonton. But I doubt that I would say “hello” to you. It’s nothing personal, I’m just usually in a bad mood when I am running. The other way is here at alias basil and this, of course, is where Google might be your GPS. I am not obsessed with stats, but I can see what search terms on Google have brought people to my blog. It’s quite an eye-opener, really. It gives me a window into the twisted minds of others and, simultaneously, frightens me that I might be associated with such search terms. In the spirit of the charts, here are my “top ten” search terms. Note that the chart topper is very, very disturbing…

Top 10 search terms leading to alias basil

10. Throwback athletes (hey! me? I imagine they must have been looking for Mark’s blog and arrived here by mistake)
9. Me in running tights (oh, how narcissistic – try a mirror)
8. Running lady wear (erm, last time I checked I was a guy…)
7. Brown hones (what?)
6. Two hour 10k (you’re too slow to even read this blog – try 109 Street)
5. Running my body on the swimming pool (again, what?)
4. Attire pile (well, I suppose that my blog is an “attire pile” of…)
3. Lady running tight (sounds painful)
2. Running workout for construction workers (ah yeah, I’m down with the builders…)
1. Compression tights sex (I have never engaged in such acts, honest – ask my wife)

So, there you have it. With my training returning to some vague sense of normalcy as of next week, I may actually be able to write some running-related posts! But, before that, there will be an Edmonton-style “guess the runner”, featuring “parts” of runners that we all know and love. The competition begins this weekend…

The running life of…Stephen Toal (part two)

The wilderness years loom for Stephen. But what does it all mean? Let’s find out in part two of the running life of…Stephen Toal.

Forty looms, in a few months.  I have had enough injuries to know how important prevention is.  Still, in Feb 2009 AJ and I entered the hypothermic half marathon (an annual tradition), as a ‘training’ race.   Two races are held –one at 9 am and one at 1030 am, and we planned to run the 1030 race in around 1:25, at so called ‘marathon pace’, which is the pace that AJ runs marathons, and the pace that I train to run marathons more slowly than that.  The pedestrian 1:25 goal was to allow for the icy ruts, poor footing and cold weather, and to have a solid training session without the recovery time needed after a hard race. We saw Olympian Paul Tichelaar win the 900 am race in 1:23, and could not let this opportunity pass.  An ingenious plan was hatched to beat Olympian Paul Tichelaar, ignoring the obvious fact that (i) he was in a different race, and (ii) that Olympian Paul Tichelaar was probably not ‘racing’ a novelty fun run in the middle of winter during a down period in his triathlon training cycle.  Still, we forged ahead, AJ winning (as usual) in 1:21 high, me a close second in 1:22 low. 

In spite of the searing hamstring pain I felt for days afterwards we then met for 8 x 800 at sub 2:40’s at Kinsmen four days later.  On repeat number 7 my left hamstring ripped, with a sensation not unlike pulling Velcro apart on a hockey shin pad.  Hmm – no running for 6 weeks, with Boston 2009 in 9 weeks, and with flights and hotels already bought and paid for via Hotwire.com. 

Well then, off to the pool for 41 straight days of water jogging (water running?  Does that sound better?).  My most memorable water session was in early March, when I started at 530 am at Coronation in an effort to get in a 2.5 hour ‘long run’ in the water before taking the kids somewhere or other.  Gord Kelly and Shawn Muldrew joined me after 630, not because they are selfless friends, but because Gord was rehabilitating a herniated disc and Shawn was post knee surgery for a torn meniscus.  At 39, 42, and 44 years of age we were the youngest ‘joggers’ in the water, by several decades.  As we weaved in and out of senior’s traffic I mentally greeted my new chums, who were of course given nicknames. Hello, Andy Rooney!  How’s it hanging, Mr. Olympia? – Mr. Olympia being the reasonably fit, Speedo-attired king of the senior’s water jogging set, lovingly admired by Violet, Daisy and the rest of the gang as he paraded proudly on deck, chest sticking out.  Far from being a low point in my running life, my six weeks of water torture gave me an appreciation for health, and youth, and the realization that one day I will be the old man in a high cut Speedo wandering back and forth between the sauna and the cold pool.   I got through Boston 2009 and will go back again next year in yet another effort to solve the marathon.  Shawn is already killing me in cross-country and Gord is going back to Boston in 2010 after a tough year.

So why bother?  Squeezing precious minutes out of a lunch hour for a run, getting up at 5 am on a weekend, running around Hawrelak in minus 30 in January, water jogging when injured, etc…  I am still chasing PR’s – I got one on Canada Day in the 15k, and nearly got one in Victoria last month.  There were more disappointments in races last year than triumphs.  C’est la vie. There is always the next race.  I am going to try and run a little more each week, and attempt more 150-170 minute long runs in the lead up to Boston 2010.  Maybe that will work, maybe not!   Someone once wrote about the desperate need to try and be the runner you were the day before.  I think that thought sums it up for me.  Thanks for listening.

Taking care of business up Emily Murphy Hill on Canada Day 2009. Note the stiff competition a little farther down the road. Thanks to christinerankelphotography.blogspot.com for the photo.

Well, that rounds off yet another excellent running life of… Thank you to Stephen for sharing. And, of course, a new local running celebrity will grace these pages next week. Though this one really is quite famous…you’ll see.

Legs Eleven (actually, more like twelve)

OK, keeners, if you did want to make a competition out of this…to whom do the following belong? Some are very easy…some, perhaps, are not.

A “to don’t” list…

Yesterday evening I had another wonderful run around Goldbar/Goldstick. If there is one thing better than running the trails in this part of the city, it is running them at night. I suppose that we have the ski community to thank for the lighting that allows trail running after the sun has set. Of course, this is only possible before the snow hits (let’s hope that this isn’t for a while). As soon as the white stuff is on the ground these wonderful trails will be swarmed by people dressed head-to-toe in spandex. Us runners will be ostracised. Frowned at if we dare make a single footprint in the tracks. It does beg the question: why do the skiers get the floodlit trails?

Anyway, I digress. It’s official – our house is sold. Freaky, really – Elizabeth had, a few days ago, bought a bottle of wine in Boulder called “Lucky Twenty”…our house was on the market exactly twenty days! I am not ashamed to admit that some may call me an anal-retentive. I prefer to call it having high standards. With this personality trait, selling your home can be quite stressful. There is just so much to do; or, rather, so much you can’t help but do. Now that it’s over, I am not afraid to share some of those things I no longer feel compelled to do. I call it my “to don’t” list.

1. Dry sinks with a towel after I have used them.
2. Sweep the floor every day. The eternal quest for the dust bunny!
3. Look at the floor from all kinds of oblique angles in the hunt for dog prints and other marks.
4. Make the bed in an “artistic” manner (oh, and even make the bed in the first place).
5. Have the thermostat at 21 C (I can turn it back down to my stingy and preferred 19 C!)
6. Try to catch the leaves as they fall from the trees. Curse the wind (bringer of leaves!)
7. Check the eaves troughs for leaves twice a week.
8. Leave various lights on so that my house looks cozy and inviting.
9. Control and monitor every move of my dogs.
10. Buy fresh flowers.
11. Suppress the ultimate effect of peristalsis while at home: you never know how short the notice for a showing will be! (too much info?)
12. Pick up all of my dogs’ poos and hide them in one big bag in the composter.
13. Refill, on a daily basis, all dog-created holes in the back garden.
14. Hide dirty cutlery and crockery in cupboards and drawers. I even found a knife in my underwear drawer!
15. Not use the bathroom downstairs for fear of having one extra room to clean.
16. Hide the dog beds and remove all evidence of dogs prior to leaving for work.
17. Think about all of my nosey neighbours rifling through my cupboards and drawers during open house.

Random question: to whom do these phenomenal legs belong?

The running life of…Stephen Toal (part one)

Well, here we are again. Another local athlete willing to share some thoughts on running. This week’s the running life of features Edmonton physician Stephen Toal. Describing it as his magnum opus, this is yet another great account of how life, family and running are all balanced. Enjoy!

Why I do not swim. This is my race face after only 800 meters of ocean swimming as part of a ‘fun’ duathlon on Maui in 2007.

Basil Humpage asked me to describe a typical week of running.  When Basil asks for something, you had better deliver!  I started running in 2001 after my daughter Siobhan was born.  At that time I was a 2 pack a day overweight food executive, barely able to finish a 3k fun run with my son.  Wait – that story belongs to someone else.  I was actually a poorly conditioned, frequently injured soccer player at that time.  My wife Linda had joined a ‘strollercise’ class with other new moms at the Kinsmen Centre and they had decided to run the Edmonton half-marathon in August 2001.  I foolishly joined the challenge and hobbled to a disastrous 1:48, and of course was hooked. 

Like everyone reading ‘AliasBasil’, the single biggest challenge in my training is time.  Linda is also a runner, and the kids are busy with Irish dance, swim club, hockey and the like, and finding time to get in six runs a week is an ongoing challenge.   For the last 3 years I have been running two marathons a year.  I run Boston in the spring, generally with disastrous consequences, and Kelowna/Victoria/Chicago 6 months later.  This cycle entails about 6 or 7 months a year of ‘high’ (not Lunty high, certainly!) mileage, in the 60-65 miles per week range. 

I do not enjoy time off running so there is very little down time, and I am usually back to 45-55 miles per week starting 3 or 4 days after the marathon is over.  My office is only a couple of minutes away from the River Valley, and there is a precious shower in the basement which is there for my exclusive use unless a colleague has snuck in to contaminate it.  Nearly without fail I run at lunch Tuesday through Friday, year round.  Lunch is often eaten at my desk or in the car on the way to the nursing home in the afternoon, depending on the day.  Weekends are negotiated with Linda, and we try and find a fair solution to allow both of us to get our long runs in, hopefully with friends.  Still – there are times when some creativity is required to complete that daily run. 

I have run to the car dealership to retrieve my trusty Nissan after a service, to my mother-in-law’s in North Edmonton (a challenge, as 118^th Ave generally does not have a lot of running traffic and many of the chain-smoking truck drivers make it their mission to try and kill me as I run across the street), along 34^th Ave during my daughter’s Irish Dance lessons, and routinely at 5-6 am when we are on vacation, so as not to ruin family time after the kids get up.  In the spirit of H1N1 hysteria I ran to the Alex from my office to get the H1N1 vaccine yesterday. (*Note – I received the vaccine as a ‘health care worker’.  No special treatment was given to me, and I did not jump a line to get the shot in the secret clinic.*) Linda often runs at 6 am on weekdays with her friends in the neighborhood.  Weeknight runs are generally out of the question due to the kids’ innumerable activities.  One day they will be old enough to stay at home while we both go running, at roughly the same time that we will not trust them to stay at home while we both go running.

courtesy of Christine Rankel, see christinerankelphotography.blogspot.com

A dark horse? Or a mid-life crisis manifested? 40 is on the horizon for Stephen. Read more in part two, later in the week.