Conquering the dreadmill

It's every runners worst dream: motivation is diminishing and the cold is only making it harder to drag your ass out of bed.

Then it appears, the single tredmill covered in dust in a corner. They offer many things, but inspiration and an exciting view just isn't one of them.

Sadly, when the cold arrived and my workload grew mountainous, it became hard to run; to find the time to head outdoors and breathe. But down the hall from my boyfriends apartment, is a small home gym. Completely equipped with a single tredmill, small incline plane and as many weights as one could possibly need.

I am back. My athletic, motivated, get-up-off-the-couch-no-matter-what-the-weather self, has returned. While the indoor gym is not the best solution, it is providing an outlet for my energy and gives me a chance to de-stress in a safe and healthy environment. I've been pre-occupied, as my readers may have noticed, and became swamped with work — completely unable to function as there was no way to get away from it. But here it is, black and a little clunky in a small, closet of a room.

Lately, for the past two weeks, I have started exercising for 30 minutes to an hour every day. The workouts vary slightly each day, just to keep things interesting. Music blares in the background from a specially chosen playlist of upbeat and fun songs that will keep my energy pumping.

Here's how the workout usually goes:

Tredmill: 2 x 15 minutes high intensity.

Squats: 2 x 20 (don't wanna be too sore)

Crunches on incline plane: 4 x 20 (surprising how little the amount is but how sore you'll be the next day)

and

Push ups: 2 x 20 (I have a messed up rotor cuff and am not supposed to do push ups)

The push ups are interesting, normally I wouldn't do them as they damage my shoulder but I've added an interesting twist. In the gym is a small weighted ball, similar to a balance ball but smaller than a medicine ball. Putting one hand on it, and the other on the ground, I'll do one push up; then while in plank position, roll it to the other hand, procede to do another push up with the second hand on the ball and first on the ground. It's quite a balancing act.

We'll see how this workout goes, I've just signed up for a Resolution Run with Tri and Run Sports on January 1. That'll be the test for the tredmill workout. This is one race that I will not miss.

Back at it...kinda

I'm sorry everyone, I've been gone for way too long from the sport of running. While excuses are a pain and not necessary, I've been swamped with work and have been in the newsroom for a minimum of 12 hours a day.

But enough of that. I have been away from the running world for the past two and a half weeks and because of it, I wasn't able to train for a race yesterday.

After Nov. 15 when I ran the Fat Ass Trail Run, I felt so good that I immediately registered for the Egg Nog Jog. The Egg Nog Jog didn't cost anything, simply a donation to Coats for Kids was sufficient. I didn't mind giving up the $5 that I had put forward, but I was disappointed with the lack of training I had done.

It's amazing how quickly your life can become derailed when work begins to pile up. It's not even piling up because of procrastination. It's all just being handed to me and needs to be done in a short period of time.

But yesterday, when I was supposed to be at my Egg Nog Jog, I hopped on a tredmill and ran for the first time. I only did 20 minutes on the tred mill but it made me feel like I was actually doing something. Along with that, I did a few squats with weights and an ab workout.

To continue my renewed love of running, I went again today. It's been extremely cold lately and I haven't the time to get out first thing in the morning, it's too dark, cold and unsafe to go out. Luckily, in my boyfriend's place, there is a tredmill that rarely gets used.

Last night, I searched the internet for different tredmill workouts that would give me a challenging work out and make it possible for me to begin running out doors again when it warms up. I found, frog in a boiling pot.

Yes, frog in a boiling pot. Something about adding .5 to your level of speed every 2 minutes. Apparently, the person will adjust to the speed after one minute, become comfortable with it, and soon be running at a pace they never thought possible.

I decided to try this theory out this morning. Starting at a normal walk, about speed 3.0 and escalated up to a 6. It's interesting how each tredmill changes what speed their levels actually run at. Some tredmills I can run at level 10, others like the one this morning, I was booking it at level 6.

It felt good, amazing to be running at that speed and feeling like the only person in the world at that very moment.

After working up to level 6, I slowly lowered the levels back down to 3.5, took a drinking break while continueing. After a short refresher, I went straight back up to 6 for another couple minutes.

Once that was finished, I had worked up quite a sweat, and went directly to some ab exercises.

I look forward to doing it all again tomorrow.

Recovery Run

Today was my recovery run, as my muscles have been complaining non-stop for the past couple of days. It's no wonder really, just a nuisance that after 14.5K they would be upset with me for the exercise.

Instead of laying back and resting, I went for a recovery run. 4.5K along a relatively flat, paved track beside the water. It's beautiful really, but repetitive and can get very boring after the first lap. The scenery never changes, so I only run there when I'm absolutely desperate.

I started out, cold and shivering but stubborn to run. My gloves, I have found, are a huge staple in making a great run. If my hands are cold, then that is all I will think of throughout the run. It becomes tedious and unenjoyable. Thanks for buying them Dad!

I wanted to start out quickly, but not so quickly that I would burn out before the end. I was probably 30 seconds slower than I ran with the group last night. It was a nice brisk pace, pushing the envelope a little but not enough to inflame my lungs. Looking at the calm water beside me, I realized I left my water bottle in the car... and that I had to pee.

I'm a little disappointed with myself. My running is enjoyable, I love it. But I find that I become winded to easily, no matter what pace I go out at. I know it is partially due to my lung infection, but I should be healing by now.

I made it halfway, feeling confident I continued on, completely the second half of the figure eight track.

I stopped quickly, a little fearful. The running track surrounds a dog park, it is fenced in and a good distance from the track, but in the middle of it nonetheless. A medium sized dog barked wildly at the fence, jumping up and down while snarling at something on my side. It seemed to be looking at me. It would jump, put its paws on the fence and come very close to vaulting completely over. I tried to avert my eyes, taking a walking break and continue along. It was acting savagely due to a squirrel on a nearby tree.

I had finished the second half by now, and was approaching my car. Grabbing the water bottle left behind, I took a deep swig before throwing the bottle violently to the ground. The water was disgusting! The worst I have ever had, tasting as it smelled, like fecal matter. I sprayed the water over the ground and headed back to the track. The figure eight I had just completed measures to 3K, not quite enough for my liking. So, I did half of another loop.

My grand total for the night was 4.5K in 30 minutes, which is really good for me. I felt 100% better than I had when I first started and was glowing because I had pushed my limping self out for a 30 minute run, when others would have rested.

Oh wow.

Today was the first day after running that Fat Ass that I was actually up and walking around the entire day. Yesterday didn't count, I was in bed most of the day. But today, I was fully active. I awoke this morning and felt like a cripple.

My legs had stiffened more than I had thought they would and it was a surprise to nearly fall getting out of bed. Stretching briefly, I felt better, still crippled, but better. I slept in, having no time for a shower and raced off to school.

I couldn't leave the newsroom until 4:30, and I had to meet the running group at 5:30. This left no time for dinner. I drove as fast as legally possible to my boyfriends where dinner was waiting, scarfed down some food and bolted out the door again. I felt terrible for dine and dashing, but it had to be done.

I was nervous going to the running group, I hadn't been there since September. It was a different time, new people and darker sky. It started out rocky, unsure of which path the group would choose to take. My calves were screaming, they were not completely happy with the running that was about to take place.

The group broke into three groups: a slower group, a faster/longer group and my group. An older woman ran with me, and she matched my brisk pace easily, even pushing the envelope a little. We ran with the faster/longer group until our halfway mark, when they decided to branch off and go further.

My lungs were screaming almost as loudly as my sore muscles were. I had to stop more often than made me happy, but we finished with a great time.

The route we chose had three hills, well four but one was tiny. We crossed two bridges, forcing us to a brisk walk to conquer them. I was too weak to give the hills a thorough beating, and it didn't help that I forgot my water for the night. It completely slipped my mind.

Magically we made good time, running 7K in 45 minutes which is a PR for me.

Recovery run tomorrow night.

The Day after...dun dun dunn

As my blog yesterday will attest to, I just ran the Fat Ass Trail Run of 2009. I had a feeling that today would be a wreck, but I had no idea it would be anything like this.

My lung infection flared up yesterday during the race, causing me to take my medicine to get rid of the infection. The medicine is extremely high-dosage, high in codeine and makes me a little loopy, so I usually don't take it unless necessary.

Yesterday, I felt it was necessary as I could not breathe. There is only a couple of doses left in the bottle, so I figured it would be okay and that my reaction wouldn't be too terrible.

I couldn't get to bed until three this morning, and only managed to sleep for two hours. It felt like I was on crack, my entire body was shaking, I felt like there were creepy-crawling things all over me and I just felt itchy. Besides the fact that I was exhausted, it was like I had had twenty cups of coffee. I was wired.

This morning I awoke from my, short nap, and felt okay. So I got dressed, checked some emails and fell directly back into bed. It was like I was drunk, or had been drunk.

The effects I had from the run yesterday were minimal, my hips were a little sore. Feet a little tender and calves a little clenched, but everything else was fine. I should be up and running today, if I hadn't taken that damn medicine.

From now on I'm going to do this my way. I like to take care of things, the natural way, not taking medication and putting unnatural things into my body. Clearly, I would've been better off my way.

Fat Ass Trail Run

Let me start off by apologizing now for the stress that will invariably come from reading this post.

In September, very early September I signed up for a race called the Fat Ass Trail Run. There are 3 divisions, 7.5K, 17.5K and the 25K. The race took place today, Nov 15, on the Batawa Ski Hill. I knew the race would be tough, so I signed up for the 7.5K which would still be the longest I have ever raced. Upon registering, I was informed that the race actually goes up the ski hill and is considered one of the toughest races in November.

Honestly, I thought I would have tons of time to prepare for the event. But as I stated a few blogs back, I fell ill and my training came to a sudden and screeching halt. While I am not taking my medication regularly anymore, my lung infection is still causing many problems.

This morning I awoke with the mantra, "It doesn't matter how quickly you finish, or whether you even run the entire thing. Just finish." I have run a handful of times in the past two weeks, and have not improved my air capacity. With this in mind, I knew that I would finish, I'm too proud not to finish. I'm too proud to not run even though I'll be in terrible shape during, after and for the next day.

It was foggy when I awoke, though warm. I put on my usual running attire, leggings and a long-sleeved pink base layer shirt. My trail running shoes fit beautifully this morning.

Arriving at the Batawa Ski Hill chalet, the buidling was packed with runners, stretching and preparing for whichever race they signed on for. The mentality was calm, rather than the usual chaos I have experienced at other races.

The race began at 10, when we all packed into the driveway of the chalet and ran behind a four-wheeler. The four-wheeler guided us down the road, away from the ski hill for half a kilometre before looping back around. Then the race truly began and I already felt like dying. Though I physically felt fine, my lungs just could not get me the air that I required. Disappointed but not giving up, I walked/ jogged slowly up the steep incline of the ski hill. My calves burned, shoulder stiffening and breathing ragged. I wasn't sure if I was going to make it, and yet only 1.5K in.

I made it to the first checkpoint, running slowly along the beautiful hilltop trail. It was just like i was running at Goodrich Loomis, where I usually run.

A man passed me, going in the opposite direction. Concerned, I stopped and asked if he was injured, as he had a pained expression. He had gone out too fast and his heart monitor began going off. He didn't finish the race and went back to the chalet.

The next obstacle was going downhill, you had to go snail slow, carefully placing each foot so you didn't slide on something loose beneath the blanket of leaves. A marker on the side of the hill proclaimed 'Tuck and Roll."

A woman slid down the hill accidentally, rolling her ankle.

The next area of the course was a grassy field, turned swampland. The area must have been 20ft by 50ft of thick, murky water with a muddy bottom. The water wasn’t deep, just not something i wanted to go through with the race to finish.

A path had been cut in tall grass following the outskirts of the ‘puddle’. Others had gone that way, so that way I went. It didn’t work out. I ended up with soaked feet and mud surrounding my ankles. Finally on dry land, I shook both feet, sending fans of water in either direction.

I started to cough. The coughing came hard, as I hadn’t pushed my lungs like this while still having the infection.

Before I continue, I should say one thing. My mother had been thoughtful, and bought me pre-mixed, high protein drinks called Boost. The vanilla flavour really isn’t that bad, but for someone who is potentially lactose-intolerant, they weren’t great.

The coughing turned violent, the violent turned into vomiting. All over the tall grass I spewed, retasting the Boost that I really didn’t like in the first place. Luckily I had gotten it off the track, and continued on.

I came to the second checkpoint, and was informed that I was not last. I was so relieved, and awestruck. Looking back, I couldn’t see anyone behind me, they must have been moving at a glacial speed.

I thought about asking him whether or not I was on the right path, I hadn't seen any signs dividing the course amongst the three lengths and was worried that I was actually doing the longer ones. It definitely felt like I had done 15K instead of 5K. I was on the correct path, I caught up with one woman, who appeared to be just as slow as I was. She said she did the run last year and it was the same course, we weren't lost.

I stayed with her the rest of the run, my lungs were on fire and breathing very laboured, with her rolled ankle we made a great pair. She was great company, seeing as we only had another kilometre to go, at most, she was very knowledgeable about the course. It was sparsly marked through this last part and with her leading the way, it went quickly.

The final leg of the race was downhill, as it only made sense that the beginning was climbing the monstrous ski hill. I always like to make a hard ending on the races I do, no matter how rough of shape I am in. Running down the ski hill and curving toward the chalet I could hear my younger cousin yelling "Go, go, go" from the finish line. I have been trying to expose her to the non-competitive side of running, the side that encourages friendships to be formed and walking through races. The side that is for pure enjoyment.

I ended the race, weazing and jello-legged in 70 minutes. While 7.5K in 70 minutes is not a good time, 7.5K up a ski hill, with a severe lung infection, and having not run in the past two weeks, 70 minutes felt amazing.

My goal had been to finish under 90 minutes, and I had done that. Next year, under 60.

Run ending with a grocery bag filled with mushrooms.

My run this afternoon had been scheduled to be with my cousin, but after calling her house, I decided to go alone. I didn't mind, with my lung infection lingering about, I feel wimpy having to stop constantly to stop my throat from closing in. I know, it's not a wimpy reason, but having to stop so many times sucks.

It was the perfect time of the day to run, besides first thing in the morning, the sun was halfway done the sky, just above the peaks of the trees.

I bundled up, putting on two shirts with my leggings and gloves. The air hurt going through my throat, feeling like a huge ice clump that stopped my breathing before it could start. During my short walking breaks, placing my gloved hair before my mouth and nose helped to warm the air before I inhaled it, this helped me recover quicker.

I feel that I am recovering, my lung infection is still there, but I was able to run more than my last attempt. It actually felt like my best run yet, 4K and only had to stop 5 times due to my coughing.

It was muddy and cold, though the one perk was that the strenuous uphill sections, were dry as a bone... err dirt path.

Finishing the run I felt amazing, rejuvenated by the first decent run since falling ill.

Walking back to my car, an elderly couple was ahead of me. Running up to them, I began chatting with the couple and found that they had walked a small trail in the conservation area to collect wild mushrooms. They ended up with an entire grocery bag of mushrooms.

Short run ended in squeaky toy transformation

I went for a run yesterday, though I probably should not have. After being sick for a week, my back had gone back to its original, terrifying spasmic self and rendered me less than useless. But, after a hot bath had loosened my muscles, I decided to go for a brief 3K run.

It felt great to be moving again, and actually be outdoors. I felt useless just lying around with absolutely nothing to do. So out I went, braving the elements.

Okay, it actually went terrible. I couldn't breathe, my lungs and throat were on fire, but I was moving forward and that was a start. Luckily, it really wasn't that cold out and the sun felt nice against my pale skin.

The coughing began, I was completely doubled over, hacking what felt like a lung up and out of my mouth. Nope, just phlegm. What a lovely picture, I know.

I perseved, covering a measly 3K when I wanted to be doing 8, by the way, did I mention that I have a race in two weeks that I really should be training for.

The Fat Ass Trail Run is coming up on the 15th of November. And while I will have no problem with the distance, and will probably feel like death when it's over, I still wish to train for it. Somehow the idea of running up a ski hill feels a little daunting to me.

But not yet, there is no way I could tackle anything like that when 3K of slightly uneven terrain leaves me squeaking like a dog's chew toy. The sports drink I carried helped a bit, but it was an undeniable likeness.

Should be interesting when I go tonight for a trail run...

After taking a full week away from the running world...

Hey everyone, it's been awhile, I know but I have a good reason I swear.

Around Sunday, I came down with a heavy cough, this was worse than my usual cough that has been plaguing me for the past month. Monday I awoke to a high fever, and nausea added to this cough, so I spent the day in bed. Tuesday, a severely sniffly nose was added to my list of symptoms and my fever had not gone done. Also, I hadn't been able to sleep that night due to the high fever and much coughing. Off to the doctor I went to find out what exactly was the matter.

Turns out, I have a severe lung infection, similar to pneumonia but quite different. After obtaining some relatively heavy duty medicine, I have been asleep for the past 120 hours, approximately.

After springing from bed this morning at 8:15 I felt well enough to run, and was optimistic about my first run of the week. I put on leggings, long sleeved base layer shirt and headed out the door. Originally, my plan had been to run at the local conservation area, but after much debate about how if I were to fall ill while running and not be able to get help, I decided to stay close to home.

It was much warmer than I had anticipated, and had to roll up my sleeves after stepping out the door.

I could tell after the first step that this run would not be the magnificent comeback that I was hoping for. My lungs constricted quickly, air burned in my throat with each step that I took.

From laying down for an entire week, my back was one spasmic knot, running did not seem to be able to soothe this beast today. After a pitiful 2.5K of strenuous effort, which should have been a simple warm up breeze, I called it a day. Clearly today i was better than I had been earlier in the week, but I'm not fully back to normal.

I'll try again tomorrow.

Hills in the a.m.

I set out this morning like any other road run, unethusiastic about the same old scenery. It was colder than I had anticipated and my legs were chilled with just shorts covering them. I forgot my gloves.

Continuing on, Potters Rd. came upon my right, a road I usually avoid unless I'm in the mood for pain. The road is long and straight, with three massive hills spread throughout it. I decided quickly that today was not the day for a long, exploratory run, so down Potter I went. The road was light this morning, sun shining through the thick line of trees along each side creating a beautiful, calming view.

The route creeps me out usually, it's dark and uninhabitated. It seems weird, coming from someone who enjoys long runs through wooded areas and yet something about the space between houses, intimidates me. I become nervous, on edge and wary of any cars that pass by on the thin road.

The sun added a beautiful change to the difficult course I was about to take.

Hills, I decided to do some hill repeats this morning as a wake up and exercise insentive. As I stated above, the road is divided into three massive, steep hills with long plateaus in between each. The first hill I powered through, feeling confident in my ability to keep a continuous fast pace, I went back down the hill and ran it again.

I was feeling it now, legs a little tired and lungs a little weezey. It doesn't help that I have an infection in my lungs.

I jogged lightly through the plateau, and decided on my mock starting line for the next hill. I noticed that this hill was the steepest, and longest of the three. But, it also did not start high up, beginning with a slow incline. Magically there was a crack in the pavement at the exact spot I had chosen to begin sprinting. The hill was exhausting, I tried to go fast but efficiently, breathing well and not focusing on the pain in my tightening calves.

I reached the top, feeling joyous, I went back down the hill. Running back up was easier, I had already done it once and knew that if I put the effort in and stayed positive, it would be no problem.

The last hill made my legs feel like jello, it wasn't a long hill, just short and extremely steep. Again, powering up it I felt incredible, on top of the world though I was exhausted. I only ran that hill once and had to crouch at the apex to catch my breath and stop coughing.

It was ridiculous, I have such a difficult time breathing but I didn't give up. 5 hills later and 4K I was feeling the workout that I had set out for.

Tomorrow, 10K run through the wilderness. Should make for an interesting blog, sure to include mud and many hills.

Leaves, rain and mud...

It was dark this morning for an uncharacteristically long time.

I finally decided it was light enough to drag myself from bed around 8 a.m. when the sun finally crested the backyard treeline. It was warm in my room, though i hadn't opened my window throughout the night which may have accounted for some of the heat.

Donning leggings, a base layer shirt and my trail running shoes, I headed out the door to the local conservation area for a mid-morning run. I knew it would be damp, as the roads were dark with freshly fallen rain. But I persisted anyway.

I chose a difficult path, the same my cousin and I went last time, except this time I took the route backwards. Usually I start with the Junior Loop to warm up and then continue along, but today I took the Esker Trail right off the bat. The hill on this side is different than the one my cousin and I climbed, it's steeper, longer and has less plateaus to rest your calves that will undoubtedly be screaming.

I made it to the top, and stood for a moment looking over what I had achieved. Then continuing along.

Two men passed me going in the opposite direction, running at a faster pace than I could ever hope to achieve. I continued along, reaching a post with a map on it. I contemplated where i wanted to go, simply finish the loop, or add the Junior Loop onto the end. While staring at the map, the men passed again, this time going the other way. I can't understand how they did it, I wasn't running that slowly and it would take longer than five minutes to reach the end of the Esker Trail and come all the way back. I conclude that they turned around at the halfway point.

The rest was downhill, and this is where the mud began. The leaves covered most of it, making it hard enough to run along. But when the leaves were sparse, the mud splashed behind me, sucked my shoes in and soaked my socks. It was terrible. It wouldn't be so bad if the mud were simply wet dirt, but this was thick mud. It swallowed my entire shoe, covering my ankle in its thick sludge.

I found myself hopping from dry space to dry space, hoping to find someway to be able to run efficiently in this condition.

At least I wore my long leggings, instead of my running shorts. Kept my legs dry.

I finished the run feeling on top of the world, and wanted t continue along. Unfortunately I ran for longer than I had originally allotted for, and was out of time.

I walked back to my car, mud drenched and soaked from the light rain falling.

Running in the rain

I hadn't run in four days, it was driving me mad. Looking out my car window as I drove home, rain drops spattered my window, blocking my view of the beautiful farmland.

It wasn't raining hard, just enough to be a nuisance and dampen my good mood.

Donning shorts, a long sleeved shirt and my trail running shoes (Adidas trail shoes, amazing shoes), my cousin and I headed out for a short run through the woods. The canapy of trees over head allowed us to run smoothly without being pelted by the rain.

We chose a trail with a higher difficulty level than last time, conquering the large, steep hill of mud. We began the run with a light jog through the woods, a relatively flat surface as far as trails go. Mud flew as we ran and coated our calves. Then, we decided upon our challenge.

The hill branches off of the main trail and continued along a higher level. Surprisingly, the trail up the hill was relatively dry and not too slippery. We managed to make our way up safely by stepping on rocks and roots for support. The trees grew thinner as we climbed, leaving us exposed to the now hard falling rain.

We were drenched by the time we finished, but felt amazing. Our run had been short, only 4K, but the hill added some difficulty. We sped back to the car, legs pumping as we ran between the rain drops. What a run.

Dragging my butt out of bed before dawn

So I had it all planned out. I would wake around 7 and be out the door for a 6K run by 7:30. It was perfect, the sun would be shining, it would be warmish with minimal frost on the ground.

It was all a dream.

I awoke freezing at 7:20 to the pitch black sky outside my window. It had snowed, not just frost but a light dusting of snow and for some reason, the sun had not risen yet. Grudgingly, I stared at my alarm clock, willing it to yell 'Just kidding!' and show the real time of 4 a.m., but alas it was just wishful thinking.

Rolling out of bed, I shivered into my winter running tights and two shirts. Usually, I try to run in as little as possible, knowing that my body will warm up quickly and I would be too warm with more than one layer on. Today, I could not help but indulge my shivering body with an extra layer and some mittens before heading out.

It was not as cold as I had anticipated and was pleasantly surprised that when my cousin and I started out that my nostrils did not immediately stick together while inhaling. That is my biggest annoyance, being unable to breathe due to cold nose hairs and nostrils that clump together.

I have yet to discover a way to save myself from the ordeal.

We set out for the first half of our run; a short 3.2K through a small country road, as her ankle was bothering her and we didn't want to push it. Looping back around her house, she stopped in to pick up more clothing to warm her cold body and we set out again for another couple of K's.

The sun had breached the trees now and we ran towards it, feeling the warmth make our faces glow in the welcomed heat. We didn't feel tired anymore, as we did when it was cold.

We continued for another 3K, bringing our entire morning run to 6.2K. No matter how grudgingly you step out the door in the morning for your run, that run will make a great start to your day as you know you have done something active and exciting when others are still asleep in their beds.

Trails as far as the eye can see

My cousin and I were finally got together and ran through the local trails. We had never run together and were tentative to start, but the only way to do it is with one foot in front of the other.

We took it slow, jogging casually as the leaves rustled up around us and crunched under our feet. She had never fun through wooden trails before and was have difficulty remembering to keep an eye out for roots, branches, rocks, nuts and anything else that could cause a run to fall flat on their face.

The trails were divided into loops of different difficulties and lengths, we decided to complete the 'junior loop' which was the first loop and only about 1 1/2K in length. We stopped for a drink break while assessing the map to decide our next path.

Lucky for us we had gloves on as the wind managed to find us as it whistled through the trees.

Why is it that the hands are the last thing to warm up when on a run? It makes an unprepared run uncomfortable.

A running meet had been hosted just before we had arrived, leaving behind a trail of yellow ribbons marking the route and litter all over the ground. Bits of ribbon and candy wraps flew with the leaves as we ran past. Had they never heard of a garbage can? Or the idea of NOT littering at all?

We finished our run feeling amazing, 5K in 35:00 with many leisurely breaks to look at the scenery around us. We're meeting again tomorrow for a run along the road.

Hills, hills and winter leggings.

After a tough day at school, I couldn't wait to get home and run as far as possible.

I went out, donning my winter running leggings, a long-sleeved shirt and mittens. There was frost all over the ground and the wind did not make the first 15 minutes of the run enjoyable. The cold wind made my nostrils stick together and my breathing laboured. I decided to persevere, veering from my usual, mundane route and chose to tackle the country hills.

My usual route is flat, with minor hills and small turns, but this time I doubled my length and difficulty factor. It started with a massive hill, well massive to me, that ran 1/2K down the 'highway' on a gravel shoulder. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but in roadrunning shoes and a freshly laid gravel shoulder, it was like running on marbles.

I made it down and felt amazing, usually after running downhill my quads feel like they've been beaten with a meat cleaver but I took my time and remembered to breathe calmly.

The next road depicted a classic fall scenery, beautiful trees with colourful leaves falling gently to the asphalt road before me. The leaves flew behind me as I ran through them. On the other side of the road were leaveless trees and uninhabitated houses with barking small dogs.

Somehow, my feet had moved in my shoes while travelling down the previous hill and my toes were being driven against the toe of my shoes. I continued along slowly, wriggling my toes as I went to aleivate some of the pressure placed on them.

A group of leaves flew through the air, I stopped to watch them gracefully fly around me.

One hit me in the face, making me double over with laughter before continuing along, wary of the many vicious leaves circling me.

My next road came up slowly on the right and guided me along empty farm fields. It was a short gravel road that led to my greatest challenge yet.

The next road was a hill. One giant hill of about 1 1/2K with tiny plateaus in the hill to allow for breathers. I thought my calves were going to shrivel up, they were so tight and tired. The hills were not your average, gentle sloping hills. They were 90 degree hills, okay... maybe that's an exxageration, they were 85 degrees. Those, combined with the cold and my tiredness made it feel like hell.

Finally, I could see the top, air peeked between the top of the final hill and the bowed trees.

It was amazing. I now understand what people mean when they talk about a 'runners high'. I couldn't catch my breath when I reached the top of the hill, but I turned around and looked down at whence I came. It was breathtaking. I had just climbed a hill that I didn't think I would ever be able to.

Wow.

The rest of the way home was a blissful blurr as I thought about my accomplishment for the day. 6K, that's a 1K more than I have ever run. And it's 3K more than my normal runs. I tend to avoid hills, but was looking for a challenge today to regain my motivation. It had been found.

Motivation

I have not run in three days, today would be the fourth but I am forcing myself to get out on my lunch break.

One day of rest and your body thanks you.

Two days, you feel like your limbs are leaden.

Three days, and you just can't seem to find that motivation that used to drive you out every morning in the winter, snowstorm or not.

Today, I set my alarm clock for 6:40 and was excited to finally get out. But when the alarm went off, it was snowing and pitch black. Snowing! It's the middle of October and there was a light layer of snow on the ground. I went back to bed.

Now, I'm sitting in class with my base layer running tights underneath a pair of jeans, ready to head outdoors at the first break I get.

Running shoes, check.

Warm leggings, check.

Sweater, check.

Mittens, check.

Wait, mittens? Yes readers, I am wearing mittens for a run and it is only October. For some reason, my hands are the last thing to warm up when I'm out for a run and can make a seemingly enjoyable run, miserable.

I already have my run planned out, in two stages. There are two trails around here, both by the water and both beautiful to run along. But you have to drive from one to the other. So first I will run at Zwicks park, a slow 3.5K of solitude before heading back into my car for another 3K behind the local hospital. I'll let you know how it goes when I'm finished.

... 4 hours later...

Okay, so while I did go out for my run... I only went 4.5K instead of the 6.5K I promised.

Running through unfamiliar territory

I was supposed to get up this morning and run at 6:45, and I really should have. But the bed was calling to me and the idea of running in the dark, through streets I didn't know, did not appeal to me. Back to sleep I went.

Around 2:30 I began to feel the effects of my choice this morning. I hadn't run yesterday, and my legs were feeling stiff and life-less. I needed to get out.

I wanted to just run, find my own way as I went and return when I decided I was ready. My boyfriend had other ideas, he went on Google Maps, searched Fonthill and found a route that would bring me on a decent run, clocking in at just under 4K. He also argued that my cell phone had to be carried with me.

Out I went, uncharted territory with little more than the memory of a computer screen map in my mind to guide me. It was exhilarating. I made sure that I kept an eye out for the streets I was supposed to turn onto, but while in the middle of a hill, I took a side street to avoid the rest of the grueling climb.

The plan went downhill from there.

I had to cut the run short, sharp pains clawed at my left calf with each step I took. I knew that I had to go in a certain direction, my ending point was somewhere to my right, just a few streets away. So on I ran, in the way that I thought I had to go.

I was completely lost.

I ended up standing in front of a park, I could go in either direction but nothing looked promising. I stared down at the cell phone I unwillingly carried with me, and called my boyfriend. After much debate of where I was, he told me that I was only two streets away, five minutes from home.

This town was so different than where I normally ran, people stared... actually, they gawked at the unfamiliar female running amok through their streets. They actually stopped what they were doing, turned and watched me pass. I felt like I was running like Phoebe from friends, like a child having the time of their life. And that's how I felt, but knew that my form was a little more controlled than that.

Soon, things began to look familiar. A trail came up to my left that would lead to his house and to where I could get water. Oh yeah, failed to mention. This was my first run without carrying a drink with me. Not the best of ideas, no matter what the distance.

I found the house and the end of my adventure.

What I learned: Carrying a cell phone is not necessarily as bad a thing as I originally thought. I like to get away from technology when I run, revelling in the feeling of having my alone, quiet time; having the cell phone took kilometres and much pain out of my exploratory run.

Training, week 1

I've recently decided to take on the most prestigious, and lengthy race so far; Nike's Human Race 10K.

It is not time based, there is no crowd to worry about, simply myself and the road for 10 kilometres (five kilometres longer than I have ever gone.)

Somehow, I got it into my head that I should train towards something. Five K's do not require much training, with proper shoes and hydration it doesn't take much. But a 10K is different, it's about endurance, slowing the body down to withstand the distance.

Last night I went for my first 'training' run, a grand total of 4.5 kilometres. I began at dusk and by the time I completed the 4.5, I was revved up for more, but it was pitch black and there are no street lights. Plus, there have been bear sightings. Just to be safe, I went home.

The run itself was great, started with a 4 minute walk to warm up my cold muscles and then ran at a casual speed along the roadside. There weren't many cars, only a few off-leash dogs, whom I had to stop for so their owners could catch up.

Tip #1: If you see an off-leash dog coming towards you, from any direction, always stop to let it smell you. Running will provoke the dog, even if it had friendly purposes in mind. Then, stop to make sure an owner is around. There is nothing worse than a run being cut short because you had to babysit a stray dog for 45 minutes before someone shows up.

I continued along, around half way through the run, when my feet are usually good and sweaty (not to mention a little swollen) I realized that I had the wrong socks on. My New Balance 805's fit like a glove, absolutely beautiful shoes, though on any run longer than 3K will cause problems if thicker socks are not worn.

Tip #2: When in training, blisters can be the biggest nuisance to hold up your progress. Always wear proper socks when trying to make progress. If it's just a fun run then it doesn't matter. But with a race in 3 weeks, this blister will be a pain.

Coming around the last bend before my final stretch home, I contemplated going farther. My muscles weren't exactly tired but not fresh. I looked down the road, forest on both sides, no street lights, not a car or house in sight. It was close to pitch dark out. I didn't have anything reflective on me.

Tip #3: If there is even a chance that your run will go late, wear reflective gear so that vehicles will be able to spot you easily on the road. A cell phone would also be a good idea if you are not near houses.

The run was good, I managed to push myself to complete the run at a comfortable pace and did not burn out quickly. The next few 'training' runs will be crucial for completing the actual Human Race 10K on Oct. 24.

For more information on Nike's Human Race 2009, see http://inside.nike.com/blogs/nikerunning_humanrace-en_GB/2009/07/27/run-the-human-race-2009

Run for the Cure, Kingston.

This weekend was my first major race and it was intense. Anyone who remembers, fondly or with terror, their first race, it is always terrifying.

I had run one race before, which drew a crowd of a grand total of a hundred people, and I thought that was nuts. Sunday was a hundred times more insane. There were at least 500 hundred runners, and each brought their entire family and the pets for support. A mad house. I stepped away from my own small support group and mingled slowly into the anxious runners.

The Run for the Cure is completely different than the run I did the weekend before. This was filled with supporters, fundraisers, even people who had beaten cancer stood in the pack. They cheered in the right places, whooped outrageously and when the starting gun blasted, walked across the starting line. That's right fellow runners, they walked. Granted, the run had a walking portion to it, allotting for those who could not have completed the five kilometres expected of them. Walkers were supposed to stay to one side, and allow the runners to pass before beginning their journey. Somewhere that was thrown out the window and everyone started at the same time. It took almost 50 seconds to cross the line.

Once the pace picked up, and the crowd dispersed the race truly became enjoyable. It had stopped raining, the lake was in view and I was passing people without even thinking about it. The course was relatively flat, with one water station and a few minor hills. Until the last kilometre and a half. Right smack in front of me was a giant hill that runners disappeared over. I stopped, staring weakly up at it, wondering if I had the strength left to tackle the hill properly and decided that I might as well finish strong. I sprinted, huffing and puffing the entire way before making it to the top.

Best feeling in the world, I think I even laughed a little in the process at the awestruck faces of people walking the hill.

Slowly, the end came within view and while I had only completed a 5K race, I felt amazing. I could see my excited parents and boyfriend waiting at the finish line for me to cross, mother with her camera poised for the perfect, unflattering finish photo. And at 37:00 I did it.

The Run for the Cure happened all across Canada on Oct. 4 and raised more than $26 million this year for breast cancer research.