The thing I remember most about today’s run was during the second three minute segment when I kicked it up the proverbial notch, which was followed by a noticeable burning in my lungs, my body’s cute way of saying, “That’s fast enough, thanks!” Apart from that, the run went well for both Jeff and I.
Conditions were a bit damp, which has been the trend this week, but it was still mild. The weather seems to have gotten confused over the whole April showers thing.
Today’s conditions were pretty dismal for early May — the temperature merely in the single digits at 9ºC and a steady rain falling. Fortunately there was little wind, so it didn’t feel cold.
Week 3 of the C25K program involves two reps of 90 seconds jogging/walking and 3 minutes jogging/walking. It went by fairly quickly and on the 3 minute segments it felt a bit closer to a regular run, completing an entire lap before ramping down to a brisk walk.
Apart from a dog walker or two, the only others taking in the park were two sets of other runners, one a trio of guys being led by a guy with a cap and a whistle (‘I’ll stand here and tell you if you’re running too hard, because watching you run makes me tired’ and a pair of women who seemed to be doing some kind of mixed run/exercise thing. Despite the proliferation of joggers on the muddy course, there were no collisions.
Jeff was keyed up enough that he kept jogging after the jogging part had ended but I told him to stick to the program and he grudgingly agreed. It will be interesting to see if his enthusiasm keeps up as the jogging stretches from 3 minute segments to 5 and 8 then to 20 minutes over the next two weeks. 🙂
Spring returned!
It was about 12ºC today, which felt downright balmy after the ice-hands run on Wednesday, with the sun out and a light breeze blowing.
While the trail had dried out and the puddles were gone, someone had driven the mower along it, leaving deep ruts along the southern stretch. These ruts are deep enough to actually be a tripping hazard. I mostly ran around them, though the muck is still pliable enough that it’s easy to smoosh down the parts that stick up. I am still hoping that they add fresh bark mulch to the path, several stretches are in dire need of it after the relentless rains of the past winter.
The run itself went well. Unlike Wednesday I found myself with sufficient energy and Jeff maintained his pace for the first four of the six 90-second running segments before slowing. I inadvertently got way ahead of him in the second half when I glanced behind me, saw what I thought was him and kept going, not realizing it was another jogger and that the segment had, in fac,t stopped. Oh well.
Week 3 and 3-minute runs begin on Monday. Woo!
Today’s run ramped up to 90 second running segments and conditions were pretty lousy for late April. It was raining, which in itself is not too unusual, but it was also unseasonably cool — only 6ºC. We donned our jogging jackets and set off for the muddy mire of China Creek Park.
I actually found myself not exactly struggling but definitely feeling the short distances more than I should have. I chalk it up to my energy level still being lower than normal after recovering from the flu bug yesterday. Jeff managed to keep up a decent pace and for some parts was able to keep ahead of me. My competitive side rose up just enough for me to not let him get ahead for long. He still beats me on the walking segments, though. He cheats by having longer legs.
And at long last I finally took a picture of the COYOTE ALERT sign (click image to enlarge). I cheated because the photo was taken with my phone when I was not actually running. Since mentioning the sign about two years ago the Parks Board has since added a no-smoking sign below it. On our run we did encounter one smoker — an older man with a large belly who stood out of the rain under the shelter of a pine tree just on the park’s edge. He knows how many cigarettes that $250 fine would buy (six or seven, I think)!
As you can see, years of weather or possibly coyote sabotage have left the alert sign largely unreadable. Since the photo has been sized down a bit, I can confirm that the instructions regarding coyote interaction include:
There’s also a short bit on how they moved into Vancouver in the late 1980s, no doubt as part of the big post-Expo boom. They’re probably living in condos on False Creek now.
I did actually see a coyote once, in an alley somewhere around West 10th Avenue, not too far from City Hall, now that I think about it. Maybe they came to lobby as official mascots for the city, trying to displace whatever it is we have now (an orca? black squirrel? Inukshuk?)
Anyhoo, back to running. Week 2 wraps up on Friday. Here’s hoping for the return of spring!
This one is a quick update because I didn’t run. Woo!
I didn’t run because yesterday I came down with some kind of 24 hour flu bug that left me alternating between feeling like a furnace and an ice cube. Good times.
Jeff did run — his first in the rain and first along the river trail out near his place in New Westminster. He reports the jacket was needed as it was rather chilly and running on the gravel path was harder on his knees than the mulch used at China Creek.
I shall be partaking in Part 5 (of 27) on Wednesday.
Today, with the weather forecast promising showers, we opted against Jeff’s planned trip to Dog Mountain, as it would take us up into the snow and snow with rain is one of the suckiest weather combos around. Instead, we headed over to the Coquitlam River Trail for a little under 3-hour hike. Unlike Baden-Powell, the river trail features little elevation gain and is relatively flat, so it was not as strenuous a workout, though I did pick up the pace a fair bit on our return.
With an overcast sky but mild temperatures, we set out sans jackets, with the plan to walk the trail to the point where one must ford the river. As it’s a bit deep this time of year and neither of us were carrying any portable watercraft, we would then reverse direction and head back the way we had come.
This was a nice, even relaxing hike. The trail at times moves far enough away from the river and any obvious signs of civilization to create the illusion that you are out there all on your own. We actually never encountered anyone going in, only on the way back. The most distinctive part of the hike–apart from several large and ripe patches of skunk cabbage growing in pond water–were the numerous points where parts of the river crosses the trail. One especially big one (check the photo gallery for more) probably discourages the casual types from proceeding farther, especially at this time of year when non-waterproof footwear means cold and soggy feet. I was happy to just make it across without falling in.
The red arrow on the sign is a bit confusing, as it points away from the trail but if you cast your eyes to the left there are no immediate private property signs that I could see, either, so I dunno. Mystery red arrow!
There are several fish traps near the start of the trail with big ol’ warning signs. This is part of a conservation effort, as the signs explained. I just like the incongruity of something as innocuous as ‘Fish Study in Progress’ being prefaced with DANGER.
We had some light snacks at the point where the river intersects the trail then stopped for lunch at Crystal Falls, where a mother/daughter biking duo and another group with a small dog were also taking pictures/resting. Jeff posed for a pic up close and personal with the waterfall and picked out his steps so carefully I could practically hear the calculations for each footstep in my mind.
As we got back to the truck the first few drops of rain began to fall, but the showers held off until we had packed everything up and headed out. All in all, a nice little excursion. The only downside was me apparently incubating a nasty flu bug the entire hike, which struck a couple of hours later. Weird how that sneaks up on you like some clever sneaky thing.
Gallery:
Conditions were once again very mild for the run/walk today, with a weaker breeze and occasional sun. T-shirts and shorts were fine for the 10ºC or so.
The run was unremarkable. I jogged a bit ahead a few times on the 60 second running segments (which ramp up to 90 seconds next week), as the pace felt almost too slow for my comfort zone. Weird, I know.
This completes Week 1 of 9 for the Couch to 5K program. Jeff is progressing well, already moving from the initial “Oh god my lungs are on fire!” phase to “This feels pretty good.” We’ll see how things go on Monday!
The second workout went well, with Jeff looking snazzy in his new running shoes and running faster through a combination of new shoes, music and endorphins. I also picked up the pace a bit on the running segments, falling more into my normal pace. No stupid injuries to report yet.
And today marked the first baseball practice taking place, as the clink of metal bat on ball was oft-heard while we jogged around the path. I have already begun watching the batters after the several close calls of the last two baseball seasons.
Weather-wise it was mostly overcast and a bit breezy but mild, otherwise. The fountain is working again and as usual has been stuffed so it isn’t draining properly. I may fix that if no one else does. Finally, I’m hoping the Parks Board puts some new mulch on the path as the past winter has been especially brutal on it, stripping it right down to the clay in some spots and exposing numerous tree roots (tripping hazards for joggers and walkers alike). We shall see.
Onward to workout #3 on Friday!
In which I join my partner as he goes from the couch to…5K.
Today was the first of the planned 27 outings and all went well at my old familiar haunt of China Creek Park. There were no bees in the fountain, no dogs getting under my feet and tripping me, no meteors suddenly crashing down from the sky. It was, in fact, sunny and mild (around 10ºC), if a bit breezy. We both lost something during the run. At the very start Jeff’s iPhone spontaneously detached itself and went tumbling to the ground. Fortunately he has it inside a plastic case designed to withstand the impact of a nuclear bomb, so it came out unscathed. The aforementioned wind whisked the cap off my head, forcing me to retreat to pick it up. Luckily it didn’t turn into one of those tragicomic episodes where the cap keeps getting rolled along the ground by the wind until it eventually ends up in traffic and smooshed by a series of 18 wheelers passing over it.
No official times/distances to report yet. This week’s workouts consist of alternating 90 seconds of jogging with 60 seconds of walking for 20 minutes. Here’s hoping I manage to avoid yet another injury while getting back up to speed.
The best part of hiking the 2.5 hours we did on a segment of the Baden Powell trail today on the North Shore was probably the weather. It was the first time it’s been warm enough to go sans jackets. In fact, I could have worn shorts and been just as comfy.
The first half of the hike or so was fine, despite our primary destination being a place called Mosquito Creek. After 20 minutes or so I dubbed the path we were on The Snake as it was very undulating, winding left and right and also moving up and down regularly through gulleys, with relatively dense forest that afforded no real views (we did get to one near someone’s private residence that gave a decent view across to Vancouver). After crossing a large footbridge the trail shifted as it began to ascend along a narrow and rock-strewn path. In fact it was so narrow and rock-strewn that the constant looking down and carefully placement of my feet began to give me mild vertigo. As I have a sense of balance that would best be described as ‘not all there’ I felt fortunate not to plunge to my doom or at the very least stub a toe. We kept on for some time at a slow pace, picking our way among the roots and rocks. By the time we forded another stream by crossing a fallen log I was about ready to turn back. Fortunately I had to be home to feed the dog so I had a convenient excuse at the ready!
Here is the only picture taken on the hike — by Jeff, as I took none. The detail isn’t sufficient to really see the ‘Are we there yet?’ look on my face and looking at this, it occurs to me that a bright red shirt is probably the wrong color to be wearing as bears start coming out of hibernation.
All in all this was not a hike I’m eager to repeat, as too much of it felt more like climbing rather than hiking and I want to hike, darn it.
On a partly cloudy and mild (two digits!) day Jeff and I went out on the Two Canyon Loop, a hike in and around Lynn Creek and the Seymour River up in the North Shore mountains. This particular route provided some nice variety in the terrain, from comfortable straight stretches down alongside the Seymour Rive to steep ascents up stairs and rock to impressive views looking down into the Lynn Valley Canyon from several bridges, one of the suspension variety.
The Lynn Valley suspension bridge was host to a wedding party taking photos in the center of the span when we got there. The many people gathered on either side politely waited for them to finish, which didn’t take long, then proceeded to clog up the narrow span to the point where I got halfway across and gave up. That’s kind of like swimming halfway across a lake and deciding it’s too far, I know, but I hate crowds on narrow, bouncy spaces high above raging rivers. It’s just the way I am.
There was another bridge of the regular flat, non-swaying/bouncing variety earlier in the hike with a similar view. It was pretty much deserted.
A short way past the suspension bridge is a pool that is apparently a popular, if dangerous, diving spot. This sign was posted nearby:
I am not sure why someone carefully excised the letters from ‘caution’ so it would read ‘urged to use extreme ca on’. It doesn’t even sound naughty. I do like that it warns the area has claimed many lives, not just one or two. Many. I guess a lot of people don’t read or the sign is recent. Or both. The no alcohol/fires part may as well be addressed, ‘Dear local teenagers’. Yes, I’m stereotyping but come on, you can picture it. A warm summer night, a bunch of drunk giddy kids skinnydipping and taking photos with their iPhones and simultaneously tweeting and, uh, Facebooking, about it:
LOL Dave is totaly naked lol and the water is SOOOOOO cold!!!!
OMG Dave hit his head diving some1 shuld call that 911 number!!!!
I think I here a bear and — (tweet ends here)
The staircase in that picture goes up an impressive ways. There’s a photo taken about halfway up in the gallery, located here.
The start of the hike took us along the Seymour River and through some areas that were used for mining back in the 1800s. There’s even a spooky old tunnel that was carved into a hillside for a pipeline. It’s kind of odd because the miners/loggers also built a two lane road (now the pedestrian trail) right next to it. Did curved piping not get invented until the 20th century or something? Maybe they had time to kill. At any rate, the tunnel was dark and spooky, as all old tunnels ought to be. We also came across an intriguing wooden archway that I imagined might lead to the lair of the Sasquatch or the site of strange forest rituals. It turned out to just be a short trail to the river.
The total time of the hike was about three hours and we took two breaks, the first under the powerlines, using the (modern) pipeline as a makeshift bench. To my consternation, there were mosquitoes about already. Then again, the place was also swarming with tourists, something else I hadn’t expected in late March. We dined on yummy dried apricots and trail mix all the same. When the sun came out it actually became too warm for three layers and we doffed our jackets. Near the end of the hike the sun hid away and it cooled enough for us to put the jackets back on. All hail the layering system!
We nearly took a wrong turn toward the end of the hike that would have added about 45 minutes to the trip but Jeff’s direction intuition kicked in and we asked a group about which way to head and they pointed us the right way. All hail those who know which way to go! Next time we’ll use the GPS.
This was a nice all-around trek, a perfect way to spend a few hours on a weekend afternoon.
Today’s hike started around mid-morning and though we didn’t keep accurate track of the time it took approximately three hours in total.
With the destination chosen just minutes before leaving, we headed out to Brothers Creek on the North Shore. Following a hiker’s directions printed off from trailpeak.com we made our way to the entrance, already a fair way up the mountain. With a million dollar home sitting just below where the truck was parked, we headed past a giant sign erected by British Pacific Properties Ltd that essentially said “If you go past this gate and something bad happens to you, you promise never to sue us. If it’s clearly our fault, it’s still your fault. No suing allowed!”
The million dollar home had a thin layer of snow across its luxuriously-appointed patio, so our plans to avoid all snow on hikes seemed less than promising. The weather, on the other hand, was spectacular, with clear skies and temperatures hovering just below freezing.
The trail starts out as an emergency access road and as it continues upward through a number of switchbacks it narrows and becomes more of a regular hiking trail. The walking stick was definitely seeing some use here. The snow was thin and in patches to start and in some spots it was easier to actually walk on it rather than navigate across the icier bits of the path. As we continued to ascend the ratio of snow to exposed ground grew until we were up to our knees and in a few spots even deeper.
It is telling that the first four people we met (all on the way back, as there was not a soul up ahead of us) had snowshoes.
When we reached Brothers Creek itself the snow was piled up on the bridge above the railings. We elected to not continue on the loop that may or may not have taken us back to where the truck was parked and instead chose to take the 1.67 km detour off to a lake up yonder. It was here that we noticed the only real tracks in the snow were from snowshoes. We pressed on, the trail completely covered under deep snow, with only occasional markers on the trees serving as reliable guides. We came to a bridge of sorts. It was difficult to tell what it might have looked like in warmer months but now it was a tall and very narrow snow-covered line, with a cone-shaped hole in the snow leading down to icy water on one side and, well, just plain old icy water on the other. I talked Jeff into going first.
A little farther on we came to a point where it looked like our snowshoeing adventurer had some trouble determining where the trail was. Rather than crossing at the actual bridge over the creek here he had chosen to make his way on a loop along the edge of the creek and then cross through some brambles at a point where the creek narrowed. We spotted the bridge a ways to the southeast. It was very low and nearly obliterated under what was at least two meters of snow. Like the previous snow bridge, this one was very narrow but with the added bonus of not reaching all the way across, necessitating a small jump. Again, I volunteered Jeff to go first. I followed after, opting to use an extended walking stick from him to help complete the last step.
After making our way across the creek we found the snowshoe tracks came to an end. The actual trail, probably 10 meters or so away, was buried under virgin snow. We looked at our snowshoe-less feet and decided to turn back.
On the way back I totally psyched myself on the jump by spending way too much time thinking about it. I eventually made it, as the detour around it was too long. Convenience conquers fear!
We stopped at Lost Lake to have a stand-up lunch (nowhere to sit in those huge drifts of snow). Lost Lake was truly lost — completely buried under a thick blanket of snow. I forgot to take a picture. Oh well.
The return trip had us pass by three couples — a young man and woman with snowshoes, a couple of older men also with snowshoes and a pair of Australians, one of whom was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He asked if there would be any ‘bairs’. We assured him that they were all too smart to come out in all this silly snow like us humans. The final group we met back at the entrance, a young threesome. One woman excitedly asked us if there was much snow up higher. When we replied that there was indeed snow aplenty she seemed positively delighted. Could not have been a local.
While it was a bit disappointing that we couldn’t complete the loop or get to the lake up top, it was still a great hike, with nearly perfect weather, some majestic old growth forest and a beautiful blanket of snow covering it all.
For reference, here’s the bridge at Brother’s Creek as seen in the summer:
And here’s what it looked like when we got to it:
