Sunday, May 6, 2012

The joys of running and aging.

I competed in a running race today, which is Sunday. Not to be confused with the previous day which was Saturday - the day I thought the run was on. Which isn't a big deal when you live in the city the race is in. Then, getting the day wrong is an annoyance. But when you live in the country and you drive an hour into the nearest town to find out that you got the date wrong, that can be classified as a royal pain in the ass, not to mention a waste of gas. And now after writing that last sentence I can't help but think of that obnoxious bumper sticker I used to see on the odd vehicle: "Ass, Gas or Grass - nobody rides for free". I wish I hadn't thought of that to be honest because now I have visions of some big, stupid truck with that bumper sticker along with those mud flaps that have a female big boob'd silhouette and probably some fuzzy dice hanging on the rear view mirror. Jesus, this is like a bad song in my head. Oh shit... now I have the song "Oh What a Night" going off. Most likely one has to be over 40 to even remember that crappy song. Now I'm dating myself. Boy, these tangents can get perverse.


Lets get back to the race shall we? I got there this morning to see what I expected to see yesterday. People in tights and shorts milling about, a race clock and orange tape marking the finish line - this looks right!


I got my race number and began to feel the familiar jitters that accompany a race. These were very mild jitters compared to trail marathon butterflies which, when I think about it, are more akin to marauding elephants. An 8km distance is fun and even if it isn't fun, at the very least its short term non-fun compared to 4 or 5 hours of marathon non-fun. The main difference now though is that in years past when I ran plenty of 10k races I was only competing against myself and not my peers. The easy answer as to why this was is simple; I was a slow runner. It wasn't for lack of trying, I trained diligently. However, the idea of being competitive enough to even make it into the top 10 of my age category was kind of laughable. I'm not being hard on myself, its just the plain truth. It never dulled my enthusiasm for racing though. I loved getting the T-shirts, training, the camaraderie of like minded friends and of being a "runner". Being a slow runner was immaterial to me, I was happy to race against myself and keep improving. Getting on a podium was completely out of my league.


After 20 years of running, the unthinkable happened, this fall I made it on the podium for a second place finish in my age category in a trail Half-marathon in Canmore. To say I was on cloud-nine would be a gross understatement. It didn't matter to me that there were only 4 women in my age category. Making it to the podium in my mid-40's was like a minor miracle, I didn't think I had it in me. 


What has been on my mind since then is: "Can I do it again or was this a one off?" I was eager to test myself on the Trail Marathon in Napa and I trained like a dog for that race in preparation. But as un-luck would have it, I started to feel poorly a couple days before the race and once I was actually in the race I quickly realized that finishing would be my reward - and it was. So after a month of recuperating from pneumonia, I got back running again and started to feel strong enough to try something less strenuous but still interesting. This 8km race seemed like the perfect venue. 


I hadn't run a shorter distance road race in so long I really had no idea of what to expect from myself. I knew from the last relay race I participated in this past summer (Hood to Coast), that my overall speed had improved and I had every reason to assume I could run faster than I did 10 years ago. But how much faster? I checked out the last years race results that were posted online to get an approximate benchmark of the times in my age category: 40-49.


After guestimating my race pace, I surmised that there was a "reasonable" potential that I could finish in 2nd or 3rd in my age category. Maybe - why not? It was worth a go at any rate.


Once the race started I promised myself I would push in pursuit of my time goal - I could suffer for 38 or 40 minutes if need be. The suffering was minimal and by the 7km mark I knew I would make my time goal. Man that felt great! Based on last years results that would have gotten me a second place finish (in my category) but this year it was a third place finish. The 2 other gals were faster than last years placings and good on them! What jazzed me was getting on the podium again, it's a rush! I know it doesn't mean much in the big scheme of things but finding some measure of personal success in this sport "now" in my mid 40's is super-cool to me. My glory days aren't in the past, in fact it's the complete opposite. The best is NOW and who would have thunk? Talk about delayed gratification! I think I enjoy it now way more than if it had come easy to me when I first started running.


What ever age we are I think its important to acknowledge our accomplishments when they present themselves. Not just in sports of course. Perhaps the win is in satisfaction from a career, raising great kids or surviving life's difficulties. Maybe the win is more subtle in the knowledge that we can persevere with grace and actually get better at things like acceptance, patience and empathy. It might be as simple as recognizing how far we've come and choosing to focus on the pluses not the minuses.


I'm going to stop now lest I turn this blog into some sort of Hallmark Card euphamism and say something really barfy like "Dance like nobody is watching" or "Love like you've never been hurt."


In light of that: "Ass, Gas or Grass - Nobody rides for free" doesn't sound so idiotic after all. Now if I could only get that stupid song out of my head it would all be good. Sing along with me! "Oh I... got a funny feeling when she waaalked... in the roooom..."






Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Lake-side musings.

The doctor gave me a clean bill of health today, it's nice to be germ free! Yesterday I went out for a run. I put on my weighted vest and wrist weights and did some hill repeats to see how that would feel. It was surprisingly good. I would have expected that after a month off my fitness would be abysmal but I was happy to find it's not bad all things considered.


Sunday was a beautiful warm day, I went for a run while Mary Ann rode her bike along side me. Afterwards, I ended up on her patio drinking wine with her while her husband George played with their dog Maverick in their yard. It was rare as George is usually working in his shop restoring a Ford hotrod. They have an amazing view of the lake from their lake front house. There are still vestiges of the life they had with their kids; a tire hanging in the trees. Now both of their boys are living their lives in Edmonton. It must seem like a blink of an eye for parents going crazy with helpless babies, then young kids morphing into argumentative teens and suddenly they're gone and so is all that frenetic business. For people such as myself who never had children there was the gap between my friends with children and those of us who didn't -  their time was taken up with child rearing and it's probably far easier to hang with other parents. I think it's because they all agree to not hear the kids running, screaming and probably drawing on the wall with crayons in the other room. No one has to feel bad or apologize. That makes perfect sense to me. 


It can be similar in the climbing culture. Sometimes its easier to hang with other climbers who don't question you about your "adrenaline addiction" or not-so-secretly wonder when you'll grow out of this crazy "climbing phase". Those of us firmly steeped in the climbing life never have to explain to each other about taking managed risks or ignoring money concerns in favour of a new rope or road trip. Not that I had that problem I have to admit. Lucky for me as an oil and gas employee I had plenty of disposable income. I'm glad I funnelled a decent amount into forced monthly RRSP contributions because its damn easy to spend your cash when you climb and/or like to travel and have figured out ways to do both at the same time. I don't regret the money I spent, no way Jose. It can be all encompassing though - like a crazy passionate love affair. That's what it was like. Good and bad times. Now.... it has a lesser hold on me for certain. I miss some parts of it and I'm looking forward to getting out sport climbing with friends when I get to Calgary. It won't ever be like it was for the first 5 years though, so much to discover and learn. Since Colin's passing it's never been quite the same and yet every day I am so thankful for the skills I've developed over the years out there. I'm a mountain person now. It's in my bones and while I don't have the same passion for getting in the vertical world I feel a deeper respect and kinship with Mother Earth. She is the grounding I seek and out here in Fraser Lake I've found the perfect mix of being with my parents and her at the same time. 


Its cool because my mom has a love for wildlife that I enjoy and find intriguing. Mom is quite content watching nature from the safety of her kitchen window or yard. She's never had the exploring spirit in the way that I do and nor does she need to. While she deeply appreciates animals she's also quite fearful of the big ones, especially bears and a close second would be the cougar. Mom is a lover of little birds, eagles, crows, squirrels, otters, ducks and deer. She also appreciates the wolves and coyotes from a safe distance. She is extremely observant of their comings, goings and behaviour, sometimes weaving narratives of what is going on in their lives and motivating their behaviour. 


Mom: "The wolves go visiting their friends across the lake." (in winter)
Lise: "Really? How do you know?"
Mom: "I can tell! One runs across the lake looking like he knows exactly where he's going and the others wait for him."
Lise: "Ah..."


Mom: "That poor crow is all alone, she must be ostracized by the other birds, I wonder what she did? Birds are never alone this time of year"
Lise: "Well... maybe that's the male bird and the momma bird is laying eggs in the nest?"
Mom: "Hmmm..."


Mom knows when the geese will be arriving on their migrations North, approximately when the hummingbirds will come looking for their feeders and keeps track of the arguing among the tree sparrows fighting over the right to use one of the bird houses.


When the weather is nice Mom likes to sit outside either in the front or back depending on the heat of the day. I like to join her and mostly we look around at what's going on with the animals. Both her and Ray find my cat Bomber an endless source of entertainment and today was no exception. Today was a big day for Bomber.


He caught a mouse.


I have to admit that I didn't think Bomber had it in him, not really. He caught a bird once at my house in Calgary but I chalked it up to being a fluke. He's never seemed overly motivated. I've certainly watched him stalking things but he could never close the deal. While he's been here he has begun to increase the range of his wanderings. We've watched him spend plenty of time staring at other critters, moving slowly and methodically towards them but he usually gets distracted with something else. This morning he certainly closed the deal for Mr Mouse. I was busy repainting the picnic bench and I could hear this crow really close-by insistently cawing up a storm. I decided to go over and investigate, when I saw the aftermath. Bomber was snacking on the mouse's innards and the crow was staring down from a low brand and appeared to be yelling at Bomber, most likely to share his booty. I have no idea if Bomber was a callous murderer playing with the mouse prior to death or not as when I saw him he was calmly eating the mouse completely ignoring the crow's admonishments. Maybe he is a cold blooded killer after all.


I knew this was news mom and Ray would be interested in so I gave a yell to mom to let her know. She was proud of Bomber and praised him like a pleased grandma. Ray was pleased with him as well. It appears that Bomber has finally made the transition from city-slicker cat to an official rural menace to varmints.


After 2 days of drizzling, windy weather we were graced with sunshine this morning. Feeling some cabin fever I needed a project. I had been eyeing up the picnic table as it was starting to look old and weathered.


Ray went and got me some paint and after an hour or so of sanding I was able to start painting. It looks like new. Ray must have had cabin fever too because he was on a tear today, getting the sander ready for me, going into town to haul garbage to the dump, drop off bottles at the recycling place, buy the paint, get the mail, come back and fix some posts on the front deck, overturn one of the boats so he could use it to go check on his sump pump in addition to walking around the yard and up and down the incline from the lake to the house.


By the time he came in he was exhausted and started to complain about how out of shape he is, yada yada yada. I reminded him about what he did today and that it's not crazy for him to be tired by now. I don't think he realizes how much walking he does in a day when he's puttering around. 


Tonight its quiet out here, who am I kidding... every night is quiet around here. The sun is shining but the wind picked up so it's a wee bit cold to sit on the deck. A perfect opportunity to blog!