Brunette River, pre-run: This is the most colour we get right now.
The forecast was threatening rain by early afternoon, so I opted for a run on the river trail, which would get me out and back before The Rains once more swept in. It turned out a run at the lake may have been possible, as it’s remained cloudy but not threatening since I got back.
Still, change is good and all that. Sometimes.
Condition-wise, the air was eerily still, particularly after the high winds we’ve experienced in the past week. Humidity was still high at 90%, which meant the temperature of 3C–and the surest sign that winter is officially only a few days away–did not feel as chilly as it might have.
Despite the benign conditions, the river trail was sparsely populated, though much tidier than two days ago, with park crews having cleared all the debris and chopped up the one tree left drooping low over the trail.
I got off to a weirdly strong start at 5:30/km. Maybe the brisk air made me feel revitalized or something. It didn’t last and I actually slowed until the fourth km, when I picked up again, finishing with an overall pace of 5:38/km, which is perfectly cromulent.
I experienced no issues, other than my right shoelace (for a change) coming untied about 1 km in. Having worn the Peregrine 15s for a dozen runs now, I really like how they fit and feel, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a pair of shoes where the laces came undone so regularly. Maybe it’s a metaphor.
In any case, a fine wrap-up to the week, especially considering it was nice ‘n dry.
The river, post-run. Look closely for the bonus seagull.
Stats:
Run 994 Average pace: 5:38/km Training status: Productive Location: Brunette River Trail Start: 10:13 a.m. Distance: 5.03 km Time: 28:19 Weather: Partly cloudy Temp: 3°C Humidity: 90% Wind: light BPM: 146 Weight: 166.7 pounds Total distance to date: 6,800 km Devices: Garmin Forerunner 265, iPhone 12, AirPods (3rd generation) Shoes: Saucony Peregrine 15 (60/101/161)
Last night I had several dreams and the second one, for a moment, went totally meta.
In the first dream, I was in a subway system–it may have been the Canada Line, since it’s the only subway we have here (currently)–but the layout was its own dreamworld thing. All seemed normal when an announcement came over the PA warning passengers of a kind of breach of the system and for everyone to basically watch for trouble.
The breach took the form of what appeared to be a gang of young white guys, either in their late teens or early 20s (I saw several of them close enough to ID this aspect. I also noted that they were the typical stereotypes, laughing and cackling over the terror and mayhem they were causing.) who had somehow managed to get their vehicles into the system. The warning was that they were essentially terrorizing the system by recklessly driving their vehicles through the tunnels. They had pick-ups, muscle cars and a station wagon that I remember spinning out on a section of track that I assume was a switch area, since it was relatively open.
At one point I was in a station and saw a number of vehicles making their way over (don’t ask how I could see this) and started heading up the stairs/exit to safety. I never questioned why the transit people would keep the system running with this chaos going on, or how exactly one might drive a pick-up truck into a subway, but hey, dreams!
In my next dream, I was with a couple of people on bikes. We were in an area that seemed to be a combo of a conventional amusement park, but also a real park with trails for riding and such. We were exiting a store as the dream began, and returning to our bikes. We set off at a leisurely pace, heading past both natural scenery, like a river, and rides of a nature I can’t precisely recall, but may have been themed to fit the area–things like log flume rides or “mines” to explore. The trail began heading down, presumably into a valley, and I was in the lead. I began peddling harder, picking up speed, something that is rather uncharacteristic of me in non-dream life. There was a family riding behind us and they were getting too close for my liking, as if they were going to try passing us. I was having none of it. The downhill slope had occasional uphill parts, and I remember peddling harder in these sections to maintain speed. The feeling of doing this was very visceral. The dream ended without conclusion, alas, so I don’t know where our ultimate destination was–but we did leave that pesky family behind.
The one detail I’ve left out is the meta part. As we were exiting the store, I described a dream I’d had, a dream about guys terrorizing a subway in their vehicles, and how it must represent my fear of riding transit or something. Yes, I was in a dream describing the immediate preceding dream to my fellow dream people. I don’t think I’ve ever had that happen before, but it was weird and kind of delightful.
Some of the thoughts are not fit to be heard by other humans. These have been omitted.
Getting ready
My older PC dates back to 2019, so it’s getting close to around seven years old. This seems to be the typical lifespan of my PCs, so I began looking for components to build a new one before year’s end. I was not in a rush, though that changed toward the end when ram prices suddenly went insane (thanks, AI companies!) I’d originally planned on going with 64GB but will stick with 32GB for now.
For other components, I bought nearly everything on sale and I made a change, going with higher end gear than usual. For example, the CPU I chose, the AMD Ryzen 9 9950X3D, is their top consumer CPU. I usually go mid-tier. The graphics card, my first AMD since the 9800XT I got with a coupon for a free copy of Half-Life 2, to give you an idea how long ago that was, is likewise the fastest they currently offer to consumers–a Radeon 9070 XT.
By buying on sale, I saved a lot of money. I haven’t added it up, but it’s probably between $600 and $800. This kept the overall price closer to my usual mid-tier range.
Building the PC. Twice.
Every time I build my own PC, I generally have a lousy, joyless experience and vow to never do it again1. Then I do it again, because the now seven-year gaps between builds is enough for the memory to fade into “Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”
For the record, I once again vow to never do it again. Note to future self: THIS TIME, LISTEN. I may still buy everything, but I’ll pay someone else to assemble it. They’ll do a better job with the cable management, anyway.
The whole thing was complicated by a defective component. I’ve packed the component up and will be returning it for a refund in the next day or so. This is always annoying, but there’s one component in particular that makes it even worse, and that is the motherboard, because everything connects to the motherboard.
It was the motherboard.
On the recommendation of a friend, I got my first-ever ASRock product, a high-end motherboard that weighed a ton, had RGB bling and came with an inscrutable quick start guide that failed to mention all of its components.
It also, as it turned out, had a bad ram slot. This meant I could only run with a single stick of ram. Not acceptable, of course. So I had to take everything off the motherboard, pack it back in its original box, find another motherboard and hope the whole mess didn’t happen again as I built my PC for a second time.
Because this was my first experience with ASRock, it’s very unlikely I will ever buy one of their products again. I’m sure they’ll manage without my contributions.
I went with an Asus motherboard, as I’ve used them multiple times, including my 2019 build, without issue. The second motherboard worked fine, and I am typing from the new PC now, hooray.
However, there was a complication with the second build and the new new motherboard. One of the two screws on the HSF simply would not line up and screw into the motherboard, as it was supposed to. I have no idea why one screw would not line up, but it would absolutely not line up. I spent about 20 minutes on it, growing frustrated, angry and getting the urge to go Hulk. I ended up walking away for a while. When I came back, I got it screwed in and done in a few minutes, as is often the case with these things.
But the experience reminded me how little the process of assembling a PC has changed in 30–or even 40–years. It should be a lot better than it is now, but this is the world we live in.
The new PC lives
One of the things I like about having a new PC is starting fresh. I spent some time decluttering Windows 11 (this task gets longer all the time, sadly), and now I am sticking to my rule of only adding applications as I need them. It’s a great way to see what I really use.
Here’s the list so far (last updated December 19, 2025):
Applications:
Asus DisplayWidget Center (adjust settings on my monitor)
Battle.net client (game client)
Diarium (journal/diary)
Discord (chat with my gaming pals of 20+ years)
Epic Game Store (game client)
Firefox (default browser)
Godot (game engine)
Notepad++ (substitute for Notepad)
Obsidian (note-taking)
Scrivener (fiction writing)
Signal (chat with the one friend I convinced to use it)
Steam (game client)
TickTick (to-do lists and reminders)
Vivaldi (alternate browser)
Waterfox (alternate browser)
Games:
Bongo Cat (this is just pure silliness and not even a real game, but it amuses me)
Diablo 3 (I’ll stop one day)
Diablo 4 (for when I stop playing Diablo 3, see)
Miscellaneous:
Aptos font family (Hey, I like Aptos. Maybe I have no taste.)
PowerToys (some of the utilities, like the command palette, are all but essential to me now with Windows)
Diablo 3 was interesting, because I downloaded and installed the Battle.net client, then copied over the Diablo 3 folder from my old PC to the new one. I directed the Battle.net client to the new location, it grumbled about how it was the wrong version, so I clicked the Install button and a few moments later, after probably writing the new path somewhere, it was ready and fully playable.
I have two SSDs installed: a 2TB main and a 1TB secondary. I want to put a Linux distro on the second (I actually already did, but kind of munged things, so I wiped the drive in Windows), and I’m mulling over what to try. My 2019 PC has Linux Mint, which I’m most familiar with, but I may hold off, as 22.3 is due imminently–unless I go for something else. I’m not hardcore or leet, so it’s not going to be Arch. Sorry, Arch lovers!
Anyway, I’m glad the PC is up and running. I’ll probably post a few more times about setting it up, tweaking things and such. Hopefully none of these posts will be horror stories.
You may be asking yourself why I have repeatedly done something I claim to strongly dislike. This is a valid question. It comes down to just wanting to do it myself, not because I don’t trust someone else to do it, but because I know I can, and therefore, should. Yeah, it’s kind of dumb. This is also why I repeatedly vow to never do it again, because I recognize the dumbness. ↩︎
View from Cariboo Dam, pre-run: Mostly clear, the windstorm has prided most remaining leaves loose.
With the sun out, I was not going to miss running today. I’d had three days off as my December run schedule has been beset by appointments and bad weather (also, my treadmill is currently out of service, so no backup).
I headed out a little later than usual–just after 10 a.m., and was greeted with the expected debris of twigs and small branches littering the trails after last night’s windstorm passed through the area, with gusts up to 80-90 km/h.
However, I was not entirely prepared for the level of destruction at Burnaby Lake. I ran a short loop, which means I only saw a relatively small section of the 10 km loop, but there were multiple trees down, including what appeared to be at least two fir trees that may have formed a suicide pact about 1 km along the run, on the Spruce Loop:
There are times when you simply turn around. This is one of them.
I had to detour back to the main trail, then headed up to the Conifer Loop, hoping it would be passable (it was). But just to the right where the Conifer and Spruce Loops intersect was this:
The Spruce Loop was just not a good place to be today, unless you’re really into fallen trees.
There was another large tree down on the Piper Mill trail and a couple plus another runner and I all bottled up at it, working our way over it.
This led to the overall run being a bit of a crazy quilt, with odd turns and pauses all over. I started out with a casual pace of 5:56/km, but the last few km were unobstructed by debris, so I managed an overall pace of 5:45/km. My BPM was a pretty low 146. It was chilly at 6-7C, but I probably didn’t need to wear three layers.
This was also my first run wearing the Garmin Forerunner 265, which is different mainly by having an AMOLED display vs. the 255. It is quite a bit brighter, but I need to adjust the stats it displays during a run. Bafflingly, it doesn’t include distance on the main face.
Overall, an interesting change of pace, given the conditions, but otherwise a finee mid-week effort.
Stats:
Run 993 Average pace: 5:45/km Training status: Maintaining Location: Burnaby Lake (CCW, short loop) Start: 11:03 a.m. Distance: 5.03 km Time: 28:57 Weather: Sunny Temp: 6-7°C Humidity: 78-75% Wind: light BPM: 146 Weight: 167.6 pounds Total distance to date: 6,795 km Devices: Garmin Forerunner 265, iPhone 12, AirPods (3rd generation) Shoes: Saucony Peregrine 15 (55/97/152)
But I’m going to rank them on various criteria, anyway, because this year I got to experience all three.
The CT scan happened in January, due to a kidney infection. The kidney is an organ you really don’t want to get infected.
The other two came about as a result of something found in the CT scan that was totally unrelated to the kidney infection1A 2cm mass of tissue which is hopefully benign, which the tests should help determine., with the MRI being in November and the PET scan just a few days ago, or December for people or AI bots reading/ingesting this in the future.
Quietest at probing your innards
Winner: PET scan. The machine makes noise, but it’s mostly hums and soft thunks and clicks. And a lot of the time it stays silent, making you wonder if it’s even on.
Noisiest at probing your innards
Winner: MRI. Not even close! The MRI rattles and roars, it buzzes and ka-chonks. It is noisy for most of the time you are inside it. No one will ever doze off while getting an MRI.
Runner-up: CT scan. This was kind of loud, too, but the relative brevity of the experience offsets it.
Most pleasant due to being short in duration
Winner: CT scan. It only lasted a few minutes, which isn’t so bad. I was still in a state of delirium due to a high fever when I had mine, though, so that may have helped.
Produces the strangest sensation
Winner: CT scan. I had an IV in me already to treat the kidney infection, but they also used it to inject a dye for the CT scan, to enhance the imagery. I was warned at one point it would feel like my bladder was power-evacuating all liquid. Which was accurate. It really did feel like I was peeing all over the place. But I was not. Modern medicine!
Easiest to endure
Winner: PET scan. All I had to do was literally lay there and breathe normally for 15-20 minutes, with nothing attached to me. Caveat: I did need an IV and a radioisotope injected into me beforehand, but that part is relatively benign, assuming your veins cooperate.
Worst preparation
Winner: PET scan. You have to fast, then you get an IV, then you have to sit (admittedly in a big, comfy chair) for an hour and do nothing while radiation spreads through your body. Only after this do you begin the actual procedure.
Most unpleasant overall
Winner: MRI. Again, not even close. For mine, I had an IV in my arm the whole time, I also had a camera strapped to my chest, earplugs and headphones on my head, and it went on longer than both the PET scan and CT scan combined. Also, the tube you lay inside is very small, so if you open your eyes, it feels like you are in some kind of curvy futuristic space coffin. You lay on a bed in a similar chamber with the PET scan, but it’s taller (and maybe wider), so it doesn’t feel like it’s closing in on you. You also get to move back and forth as they slide you in and out of the donut, which is almost fun. Nothing about the MRI is fun or fun-adjacent.
Runner-up: PET scan. Although the overall experience is pretty mild, I had to hold my arms stretched about my head the whole time, which gets uncomfortable about two-thirds of the way through.
Overall ranking
Finally, if you had to endure all three of these tests (you poor sap), from best to worst, here’s my ranking:
I was heading out to the SkyTrain, off to pick up a replacement motherboard for my new PC (I will get to that particular tale in another post) and just past the hospital building next to our condo complex, there is a path made of concrete pavers that goes from the road to the sidewalk. From there, the hospital’s main/emergency entrance is at the top of the hill (this is a separate building from the one mentioned). The curb here is low and curved, allowing you to roll things like strollers or wheelchairs onto the path.
Here’s a 2023 shot of the path from Google Maps:
A woman was ahead of me in a wheelchair, and was using her feet to slowly shuffle forward. She got to the curb and it was clear she didn’t have the ability to get over it. I mean, I wouldn’t have been able to using my feet, either. I think you’d need the feet of a hill giant.
I offered to help her over the curb and then just kept pushing. She was thankful and, really, if she could have managed using foot power to get the wheelchair up the sidewalk (which was doubtful), it would have taken ages. I figured it was time to put my sexy running legs to use.
I got up to the corner of Keary and East Columbia. Here, the hill rises even more steeply, albeit briefly, before levelling off. It was now a workout for me. She guided me onward and inside the hospital, down a few corridors and to the elevator that would take her to her therapy. She described being in a car accident–she called it being “run over” and listed an assortment of broken limbs and such. I assume her hands were still on the mend so she couldn’t use them to help with the wheelchair. It all sounded awful. I wished her a speedy recovery and said it was no issue bringing her to the hospital–I was glad to help.
I got her name, but I wished I’d gotten some contact info, because she is going to be stuck if she needs to take the same route again. I’m going to keep my eyes open for her.
It felt good taking the time to help, and I wondered how many people would have just brushed by her as she struggled. I suspect most, but I could be wrong. It feels like people tend to exist in their own narrow space when they go out in public, the world shrunk down to whatever is on their smartphone screen, oblivious and indifferent to what is happening around them.
I guess it’s nice to know I’m not one of those people.
Help people, when you can. It feels good. It is good. And it makes the world a better place every time you do.
View from Cariboo Dam, pre-run: Cloudy, but very mild and calm.
Birding was cancelled due to illness, but I was not the ill one, so I decided to take advantage of the one day in the 10-day forecast that doesn’t mention rain and went out for a run. This was also handy because I did not feel like running yesterday after my PET scan.
I dressed in two layers and even that almost felt like too much. It was 11C, which is well above normal for this time of year. My plan was to run clockwise, then reverse course and walk back the way I came, avoiding Puddletown by the sport fields.
The puddles weren’t totally inescapable, though, as the marshy area just past the rowing pavilion is a little flooded and at several points there are trail-wide shallow puddles that make you scan and look for the best option:
Go left
Go right
Go through and try to hit the exposed bits of trail
Vault over the whole thing
With one such puddle, I determined left was the best approach. As it happened, another runner was coming from the other side and was thinking the same thing. As I was arriving first, he paused to let me dipsy-doodle past, then continued on. Runners are generally very polite to each other.
There was a new extra-tree, but it weirdly seemed to fall in such a way to leave most of the trail clear. Even the ex-trees are polite here!
This was the biggest downed tree, there were a few smaller ones, too.
Other than a few cyclists just past the puddle in question (near the end of the run), I experienced no issues, and the pair of cyclists were at least riding slow. I still said, “Bicycles aren’t allowed” to the second cyclist as I ran by. I am not convinced they were wracked with guilt afterward.
Also, I passed not one, but TWO pairs of runners. And I don’t mean sneakers sitting on the ground, I mean actual people out jogging. Admittedly, both pairs were being rather casual and chatting, but still.
Also also, my pace was still a decent 5:39/km and my BPM was down to 147, likely due to the much milder temperatures. Although the sun poked out a little post-run, it was cloudy and calm during.
In all, a perfectly pleasant rare weekend outing.
Still Creekm post-run, in a reflective mood.
Stats:
Run 992 Average pace: 5:39/km Training status: Maintaining Location: Burnaby Lake (CW) Start: 10:53 a.m. Distance: 5.03 km Time: 28:26 Weather: Cloudy Temp: 11°C Humidity: 90% Wind: light BPM: 147 Weight: 167.6 pounds Total distance to date: 6,790 km Devices: Garmin Forerunner 255 Music, iPhone 12, AirPods (3rd generation) Shoes: Saucony Peregrine 15 (50/89/139)
To be fair, Diablo has always been big on Hate™. Also, the demon art they are using for the expansion (Lord of Hatred–see?) looks…kind of silly? Imagine him trying to squeeze through a narrow door with those horns.
PET stands for Positron Emission Topography, which sounds both futuristic and maybe not something done on a human body, necessarily. But it is! And it would be done on my human body this morning.
Transit connections were unusually good, so I got to the lab early and filled out a form in Waiting Room 1. After this, I was directed to Waiting Room 2. I briefly wondered how many waiting rooms there would be (there are two). But even before 8 a.m. arrived, I was whisked off to what I will call The Chair Room. The central object in The Chair Room is, you may have guessed, a chair. Specifically, a large black easy chair, complete with cupholder. There is a reason it is a big comfy chair and that reason is you spend close to an hour sitting in it and being very still.
I knew the process because I’d read the email they sent beforehand, and despite fasting, I was not really hungry yet, though I was a tad thirsty. The first lab person showed up to insert the IV. This is now old school for me, after having IVs this year for a CT scan, an MRI and an ongoing one for 11 days (that had to be replaced partway through) when dealing with the kidney infection in January. I was nonplussed and told her she could use the left arm.
If you’ve never had an IV before, the process usually takes a few seconds. If it takes longer, something has gone wrong.
It was taking more than a few seconds. There was pain, but more like an annoying sting. She worked on that left arm for what felt like about a minute. That doesn’t sound like a long time, but remember, this is with a sharp needle being repeatedly worked into your flesh.
She finally gave up and switched to the right arm. The IV was inserted in a few seconds. Apparently, the selected vein in my left arm was big and strong, but also had a tendency to “roll” when she attempted to get the IV into it. Those pesky veins always causing trouble.
My blood sugar was measured, because if it’s 11 or higher, it complicates things. Mine was 5.6, which is well below their threshold and also a little below the regular threshold of pre-diabetic (my blood sugar has always skewed high for some reason. Maybe I’m just a really sweet guy).
Next was waiting. I am unsure why, but at this point I was left in the room with the IV inserted and had to wait for about 15 minutes.
Another tech showed up to administer the radioisotope tracer (nuclear medicine!) I believe it was Fluorodeoxyglucose, which is used when trying to detect cancer. It took about 30 seconds to go through the IV. Interestingly, once the drip started, the tech stepped out of the room and stood by the doorway until it was complete. I was now radioactive and would be for about the next 12 hours. I was warned I would feel a cold sensation in my arm as the nuclear juice was delivered, and I did, but the sensation was pretty mild.
The next part was the real waiting. I was to sit still and let the tracer work its way through my body. I was told to stay still and move as little as possible. I asked if I could read. That got a frowny face, so I was left with the lights dimmed, alone with my own thoughts.
Time passed quicker than expected, but that’s because about 15 minutes before the final part, yet another tech showed up and directed me to the washroom, to pee. I did so. Then I sat back in the chair in The Chair Room. Roughly an hour and a half after starting, the first tech returned and took me to the PET room.
The scanner looked pretty much exactly like the one in the Wikipedia article, except with me in it:
It looks like a 3D rendered model in person, too.
I doffed my cap, watch and glasses and laid down on the bed. I was told it would take around 15–20 minutes and there would be some noise. My legs were propped up and, somewhat annoyingly, I had to hold my arms above my head, like I was being put on a rack. This is not the most comfortable position to hold for 15–20 minutes.
After being told to breathe normally, the bed slid in, the machine lit up, hummed, and started doing its thing. It moved me back and forth a few times and at one point, near the end, my head was mostly sticking out the back end and nothing seemed to be happening, but I assumed it was. Then, just as I was getting close to asking if something had broken down, the bed moved me fully back under the donut for the last few minutes.
Overall, the experience was not pleasant, but it was pleasant compared to the MRI. The tube did not feel claustrophobic at all, the noises the machine made were mostly soft hums and gentle thunks. Occasionally, it would light up brightly, but the light was soft, like “Walk into the light” light. I didn’t have anything annoyingly attached to me, like a camera or IV. And it ended before my arms cramped up.
I felt a little lightheaded after, but that was probably more from being hungry than anything.
I celebrated getting through the PET scan by having an Egg McMuffin. Not there, at the lab, though that would have been extremely convenient, but at a nearby McDonald’s. I tried to avoid pregnant women and children after leaving the lab, which I was advised to do for about six hours. As I type this, I am confident there are no pregnant women or children in imminent danger of getting irradiated by my presence.
I will have the results in about five business days.
Next up: I rate CT scans, MRIs and PET scans on various criteria. Find out which wins each category. Coming Soon™.
Today, the cavalcade of medical fun that has characterized 2025 for me continued, with my first ever PFT.
It’s basically 20 minutes of breathing in various ways and will probably be the most innocuous medical test I’ll ever undergo. It did leave me a little lightheaded, though.
I made my way to Vancouver General Hospital and found that I was very early for my appointment. I figured this was a sign that I wouldn’t be able to find Section 3 easily and would need the extra time to navigate. I was somewhat right.
When I did find Section 3 (a nice shade of green, not hospital green), I was still about half an hour early. I filled out a form and then amused myself in the waiting room with my own thoughts, since cell phone use is forbidden in this particular part of the hospital. It’s also one level underground and concrete, so reception may have been dicey, anyway.
While I waited, an older man went to the reception desk. The woman there carefully explained that he didn’t need to be there, as it is his wife who is being looked at for something. She said his wife would get a call tomorrow. He nodded, then headed off.
And returned, where she explained all of this again. He again headed off. But there was something about his gait that, as the kids would say, seemed a little suss.
You guessed it–he returned a third time. She was very patient with this not-patient. He finally shuffled off for good. Or for at least as long as I was there.
A very short woman with tall pants came out about 15 minutes before my appointment–yay–and brought me into a small exam room. In the corner was a glass booth with a seat and some apparatus at about mouth level. She asked for my height and weight and I sat in the booth, with the door open. She put a pair of plugs on my nose and had me test the mouthpiece (kind of like a fixed snorkel) to make sure it was positioned correctly. We began.
The setup looked a lot like this image I found. The mouthpiece is apparently part of a thingie called a spirometer. Fortunately, I didn’t have to hold the mouthpiece like this guy, who, yes, I’m going to say it, totally looks like he’s practising a blow job.
For the testing, I would breathe normally, or at least as normally as I could with my nose clipped shut and my mouth wrapped around a snorkel thing. Then she would tell me to breathe in deeply. She would accentuate this by saying, in a very excited tone, “Breathe in! Up UP UP UP UP!” until it was time to breathe out (sharply). She would switch to, “Out out OUT OUT OUT OUT!” past the point that seemed reasonable to me, but I am not a breathologist. I coughed on one of the first extreme exhalations and swallowed some spit. She asked if I needed water. I said no. I surprised myself by being right.
There were also a few times she had me suck in some sort of spray stuff that can affect your breathing. It was relatively flavorless. I’m glad I don’t have to use inhalers.
After the first few minutes, she declared the plugs inadequate and swapped them out for ones that clamped more firmly. I wasn’t sure I liked the new plugs.
A few of the tests required me to breathe in deeply, hold my breath, then exhale. These required the door of the glass booth to be closed. Because it is glass, I didn’t feel claustrophobic, more like a bizarre modern art exhibit, like “Man’s struggle with technology” or something. The mouthpiece I sucked on would become interactive during these tests, sending a weird pop of air at my mouth at the end, as if to say, “That’s enough!”
I had to redo a few of the tests because I wasn’t quite hitting the mark on a few of them, like a diva missing the high notes of an aria. The testing lady was very understanding. It still went fairly quickly. She ended it by saying I was done and just left. I also left and she reminded me to take my bag, which I then went back for. I got the feeling this was someone who missed no detail.
The whole experience was odd, everything about it felt unnatural, skirting right on the edge of being actively unpleasant without ever crossing it.
As mentioned, I felt a little lightheaded, but that was all. Still, I won’t be sad if I never have another PFT. Pfft to PFT, one might say.
View from Cariboo Dam, pre-run: Milder and no rain.
I missed Friday’s run for reasons and postponed my usual Monday run due to a rainfall warning. The warning proved to be quite accurate.
But today the weather was milder and with no threat of rain, I headed out. I debated a short loop but in the end, the conditions persuaded me to do a regular 5K. I stopped at the first boardwalk to retie my left shoelace (Ol’ Loosey, I call it now), but generally the run went without issue. Two things to note, though:
Somewhere around the 4K mark or so I almost started to develop a cramp. I didn’t, but IU could feel it trying. I was probably just pushing too hard.
My left foot twinged a few times, never quite hurting, per se, but getting close, if that makes sense. One theory is the foam in the insoles of the shoes is starting to compress, so it might not be providing enough support. I may end up having to put my grubby old orthotics back in.
Overall, though, I maintained a good pace throughout, and even on the 4th where I lagged a bit, it was only by seven seconds. I saw Servo Girl, too, so at least some of the regulars are still getting out.
As mentioned, conditions were relatively mild. I probably only needed two layers, but three did not prove to be uncomfortable. The trail was generally in good shape, though the branches (and twigs) were indeed out, scattered all over the place. I guess yesterday’s storm had something to do with the debris. I finished the run and was perfectly dry, then had to face Puddle Town by the sports fields and ending up spraying mud up one leg and generally getting my feet quite wet, because the puddles are too big to avoid and the edges are all soft and murky. I will be writing to Metro Vancouver, because I’ve been running here for 14 years and they have never addressed the regular flooding on this section of trail.
Other than that, it was a pretty good run.
Sun above a very still section of the lake near the rowing pavilion, post-run.
Stats:
Run 991 Average pace: 5:33/km Training status: Maintaining Location: Burnaby Lake (CW) Start: 9:47 a.m. Distance: 5.03 km Time: 27:56 Weather: Mix of sun and cloud Temp: 7-8°C Humidity: 91-90% Wind: light BPM: 153 Weight: 167.6 pounds Total distance to date: 6,785 km Devices: Garmin Forerunner 255 Music, iPhone 12, AirPods (3rd generation) Shoes: Saucony Peregrine 15 (45/76/121)
