This afternoon Jeff and I did a brisk walk around Burnaby Lake, only the second time I’ve been out there since the last run I did back in September. It was raining when we headed out but I figured my winter coat and cap would be sufficient.
The trail around the lake was about what I expected — mostly dry with puddles and pools of water around the edges in numerous spots. There was only one place where we had to skirt along the edge of the trail proper to avoid slopping through a pool of water like an over-eager eight year old. We kept up a good pace, too, finishing up with 10.11 km covered at an average pace of 5.8 km/hr and taking 1:47 to do it. This was almost 15 minutes faster than our previous walk there. Zoom zoom. A few hardy walkers and joggers were out but I only noticed one person giving their dog a good soak in the downpour.
Speaking of which, the relentless rain did not ease up at all. By the end the bottom third of my jeans had absorbed every bit of water around, my cap was almost but not quite soaked through (keeping my head dry, woo) and my winter coat did in fact get soaked through to the point that my t-shirt underneath was wet. Stupid rain. I know it’s dumb to complain about it here but we seem to be getting downpours every time we plan on doing something outdoors. At least if it was snow it would be fluffy and kind of neat.
Yes, a mere 11 days to go to reach the vaunted 12 week mark of No Jogging For You!
I was thinking about this earlier today but away from a calculator and my manual math skills being such that I’m a bit lost once I run out of fingers, I didn’t know exactly how many days I had left, just that it was less than two weeks. The feeling that first came to mind once I pushed aside the attempt to add/subtract/long divide or whatever it was I needed to do, was not one on anticipation but trepidation.
There is a part of my math-challenged brain that very legitimately fears that my little test run on January 17th will result in that ankle (the stupid one) feeling sore after. I’d probably give up on running altogether if that happened.
After managing a couple of bike rides and a hike without collapsing under my own weight (now a pudgy 160 pounds, 15 over my goal of 145) I am more assured that my return to running won’t be an embarrassment or worse, an embarrassment with injury. It’s hard to believe there are just 15 days left until I have completed my enforced sabbatical from jogging.
I am still expecting a huge snowstorm on the first day out.
Meanwhile, my lower legs were notably sore after the 500 steps hike but the right ankle seems to have come though in good shape. Getting back into running regularly in 2012 is one of my Big Goals, so this is a good sign. I think.
What better way to get wet than to go outside in December in Vancouver?
Today Jeff and I decided to get wet in style by hiking up Burnaby Mountain with his Vancouver Mountain Biking group. There were nine of us altogether and we started out near the base of the mountain on North Road. As with the bike ride yesterday the sky was again filled with clouds and the promise of much rain to come. As we headed out the weather held, though. Those of us dressed in cotton were thankful.
Burnaby Mountain is not exactly out in the boonies but the trails can still be rugged and demanding. There are points where the hydro wires are tucked out of view and the latest condo developments can’t be seen and you can almost believe you’re truly out in the wilderness. It helps if you stumble across a bear, too, which Jeff has done. The bears are smart enough to sleep through a Vancouver winter, though.
The ascent was on trails rated from easy to advanced. The easy stuff is just that — the grade allows for a leisurely pace and lots of idle chatter. When we reached Velodrome Trail (handy PDF of Burnaby Mountain trails) a sign at the bottom notified us that there were 500 wooden stairs leading up. Way up.
500 stairs is a lot of stairs. My excellent math and engineering skills tell me it worked out to the equivalent of 20-30 storeys. It took me back to the one time I walked up to the 15th floor of the apartment building I lived in ages ago. The one time.
When we reached the top we took a few minutes to pose for pictures, take in the totem poles and look up to the oh-so-expensive Horizons restaurant. That wasn’t what a bunch of sweaty, grubby hikers want so we continued on to the SFU campus in search of a simpler cafe. The SFU buildings were eerily quiet given the semester break and one hallway was completely unlit, as if it was auditioning for a part in a horror movie. We continued on until we got to Renaissance Coffee. They serve their free range/organic or whatever it was beverages in cups that feel all comfy and quilted. Jeff and I had hot chocolate, me going for the small, Jeff opting for hill giant size. I added a chocolate chip muffin, convinced I had burned sufficient calories on the way up.
Sated, we headed out and the rain had returned. Those of us who had brought non-cottony jackets donned them, the others prepared for The soaking. We headed down an unofficial trail that required lots of skidding, jumping and light praying. We all made it down intact, fortunately.
All told, it was a fun combination of easy and hard, everyone was friendly and chatty and no limbs were broken.
The stats:
Total distance: 11 km
Average pace: 3.7 km/h
Total elevation gained: 1132m
Total descent: 1201m
Total time: 3 hours
I am a mere 23 days away from completing my 12-week sabbatical from running. I have a tentative plan on where and how far I will run on January 17th (Day 85). I confess that I shall be utterly crushed and dismayed if I go out on my wee run that day and my ankle starts to hurt. I may have to seriously consider learning how to swim if that happens, the thought of which gives me the cold sweats.
In the meantime I continue to go on walks, hikes and bike rides to keep myself in reasonable shape. I’ve also vowed to go back to a more sensible diet come the new year to help improve my overall health. Hooray for me, or something.
I am officially 33 days away from my next run. I’m pretty certain I will not be trying out a test run two months in (which would be just a few days from now) even though I’m sure my ankle is recovered, mainly because I want to get better at cycling first. I mean, I can cycle, of course but this crazy bike and its fancy braking system are still very new to me and I still feel far from comfortable changing gears and such. I want to become one with the bike. In a zen monk way, not a ‘bike wrapped around me after slamming into a pole’ kind of way. To that end, I am going to avoid cycling near poles.
Jeff’s schedule is all clogged up over the next few days so I’m contemplating heading out on my own on one of the nearby granny trails. I fully expect it to snow if I do so.
Surprisingly, my legs were not sore at all from yesterday’s bike ride. This surprises me. My butt, however, was pretty sore. This does not surprise me as it was starting to get sore even before the ride was over. The world’s most comfortable bike seat it is not.
After finally burning off some calories through exercise, I blew it all by pigging out on junk food today. I am bad. But I promise to do better for the rest of the week or I swear, I will eat a box of Pop-Tarts un-toasted.
At last, an exciting update on the mulch situation in China Creek Park. The update: they found a rake! After this discovery the mulch was raked into place, as seen below. What was once barren and root-covered is now covered in a luxuriously thick and spongy layer of mulch that is just crying out for me to jog on it. But I can’t.
Stupid ankle.
Look closely at the first image below and you can see the diligent raker working away at spreading the mulch over the last small section of the path. The rest of the crew were playing with string along the northern edge of the park, either measuring out a new fence or because they just like playing with string.
Curiously, the port-o-potty was sitting with its door askew. This would not make for a very private trip to the loo.
Upon closer inspection I discovered that someone had torched the thing. Gadzooks. Was someone trying to humorously light their flatulent gassings and have it go horribly wrong? Did someone think this was where you built port-o-fires? Whatever it was, it’s clear no one was ever going to poop here again (if they ever had. I sure as heck wouldn’t have).
Strangely, when I came back an hour or so later the park had already given birth to a new port-o-potty, even before the old one had been taken away, allowing for a convenient before and after comparison.
At some point in the new year I will actually come back here to jog. I hope by then the mulch is still new enough to be spongy and robust. I at least hope that flood corner will be under less water than usual.
I am officially™ halfway through my Unfun You Can’t Run period. Hooray!
The ankle has not been bothering me in any way lately, not even a twinge to remind me of where it once hurt. I am figuratively circling December 19th — the 8-week mark — as a possible test with a short run. I will only do so if I am absolutely certain my (stupid) ankle is ready. Perhaps I will also add the condition that it must be sunny on that day, too. That will all but guarantee I will keep waiting.
Back in October I espied a strange sight at my old jogging grounds at China Creek Park. It was this sitting on the northeast baseball diamond:
At long last (and with summer long gone) the city had decided to bring in fresh bark to spread over the badly-deteriorated trail at China Creek. Hooray!
We then move forward to November 19th. With summer even more long gone than before, I noticed that the number of bark piles had shrunk:
Apparently more bark had been delivered and various people had in turn spread it around the trail at the park. This created a visual effect not unlike that of a burrowing Bugs Bunny. It also made the trail entirely unusable:
Not to be deterred, the jogger below simply chose to run inside the trail, with the added bonus of making each lap a tiny bit shorter. Also note her colorful attire. Not many people can successfully pull off combining green, blue, black, pink and turquoise. Actually, I’m pretty sure no one can.
I will be strolling by China Creek in the next few days and will be curious to see what the state of the bark is. For the sake of the joggers, the walkers and even the misinformed dog owners, I hope it’s all nicely spread out. Well, moreso than it is now.
Has it already been four weeks since I last ran? Yes, yes it has.
And I hates it.
My weight has been slowly creeping up as I lose all discipline and self-control. I am becoming soft and squishy yet I know the ankle is not ready, so I must continue to bide my time and ignore those sweet, scrumptious donuts.
The 84th day from today is January 16th, 2012. January 17th is when the doctor at the clinic officially cleared me for running again. I have vowed to blog for at least the next 84 consecutive days as a result. That will show my ankle who’s boss! Or something.
He didn’t want to send me for an x-ray because he said his treatment would be the same and why irradiate your body if you don’t need to? On the plus side I didn’t have to pee in a cup.
Since the ankle has been improving noticeably each day since my last run I don’t believe any bone is fractured because this kind of healing simply doesn’t jibe with that. Even my laughably bad Internet self-diagnostic skills have me feeling confident about that.
On the other hand it might be a bone bruise and clearly four weeks off was not sufficient for it to heal up fully. I can very clearly feel the discomfort/pain by applying pressure to the affected area so I’ll be checking periodically on the ankle to see if I can perhaps shave a few weeks off because 12 weeks is a freaking long time.
