Weather – Page 4 – Rant and Roll

Let’s sway, while color lights up your face

Well, first things first.

A nor’easter blew in early yesterday morning, dumping snow all over Halifax. As it was also winding like a winding thing, many flights ended up being completely cancelled – including ours.

Ho hum, pigs bum.

So, as a result (and because US Airways has only been able to get us on a flight tomorrow night), Mr. M and I will be spending New Years with the fam.

Honestly, I haven’t rung in a new three hundred and sixty-five days with my mom and sister for many, many moons, so despite the fact that I am a little bummed about not being able to be with my friends tonight, I am so looking forward to spending a few more hours with these amazing, brilliant, hilarious, and completely bonkers women.

Games will be played, oh yes.

And movies watched, and good food eaten.

A glass of bubbly may be imbibed at midnight.

I don’t know about you cats, but New Years is a always such a peculiar celebration to me.

I’ve written before how I don’t actually celebrate a new year come January 1, but on September 1 (because that, for me, is when the new year actually begins – having been brainwashed by years and years of back to school shopping, and labour day long weekends) so I never really know what to do with myself when this time of year rolls around.

I also have this weird belief that as soon as Christmas is over, spring should be just around the corner, almost as if Boxing Day should herald the arrival of cherry blossoms and blue skies.

Knowing that we have three more months of winter to plod through is always just a little bit discombobulating.

I don’t really make resolutions, because throughout the year I am constantly making new goals, and revising old targets and expectations.

(But I sure do love reading all your posts about your objectives for the next twelve months.)

There are, however, many things that I am looking forward to next year.

Running the Sunshine Coast and Whistler half-marathons; being a part of three (three!) weddings next summer, and visiting New York in July; more stand-up gigs, speaking engagements, and radio shows; celebrating five years of marriage with my soul mate; and taking on new adventures in all avenues of my life.

All of these things actually give me goosebumps just thinking about them.

Talk about exciting and invigorating.

(Okay, okay! I would be remiss if it I didn’t say that I REALLY want to run a sub 1:30 half, and I REALLY want to do forty push-ups in a row.)

Can I say that those are my New Years 2013 resolutions? Are those resolutions? Either way, I’m going with it.

I will continue (to work on) keeping my anxiety in check, and my body issues at bay.

I will keep ranting, and keep rolling.

I will, also, continue to run, and write, and dream, and love – I will love my life with the fire and ferocity that life should be loved.

And I so much look forward to sharing this love.

Happy New Year to you all!

Sale, sale, sale!

Yesterday M and I braved the elements and suited up to do retail combat with all the other Haligonian boxing day shoppers.

Little known fact – here in Halifax, everything remains closed on December 26th and the shopping extravaganza doesn’t start until the 27th.

(I like to refer to it as Boxing Day Part II – Box Harder.)

When we first left the house it was bitter cold, but the air was clear of any snow flurries (or cloud debris if you will). However, about ten minutes into our walk downtown, the white stuff started in earnest and didn’t stop for the next couple of hours.

I’m pretty sure that between the time we left the house, and by the time we pried our boots off our feet upon our return, it had snowed a good ten centimeters.

Ch-ch-check it:

Mr. M bought two new pairs of shoes – running and dress – and I bought this little green number:

(Please excuse the rumpled state of this dress – I haven’t had a chance to iron out the creases. Rufus also refuses to take part.)

(As does Simon.)

We were so cold walking back that we had to make a pit stop to warm up. We chose a little Vietnamese cafe and I ate this delicious coconut curry tofu soup:

Good grief that broth packed a punch – hot, spicy, delicious.

Elsewhere in the cosmic kitchen, we’ve been playing games like the game nutters that we are, eating delicious and decadent food, running like Forrest Gump, listening to great music, dancing about the kitchen, and watching movies late into the night (and sometimes into the early morning. I officially don’t need to watch another Bond flick for the rest of my days here on this here planet.)

We even suited up and worked a shift at my sister’s butcher shop and storehouse. (Stay tuned for a much longer post on this incredibly business venture.)

Here I am in full shop regalia:

This was pretty much one of the most fun things EVER – talk about fam jam teamwork (although I was pretty adement working the cash, as handling large quantities of meat isn’t exactly my bag.) We even had a family photo taken in the store last night.

I cannot wait to see the final results.

What’s been happening in your necks of the woods? Did you purchase anything on boxing day?

I’m so sorry that I have been lax in keeping up with all your brilliant blogs. I’ll be back to normal soon – at present I’m just soaking up all the family time I can get.

I run, therefore I am (a Fall Classic)

Running the Fall Classic is always an experience. As the last race of the season, it truly attracts all manner of competitor – from the hard core runner who competes in nothing but teeny, tiny running shorts and (maybe) a tank, to those who have been training all year for – what will be – their very first 10k.

Because of this eclectic mix (and the fact that it’s near always freezing, raining, or winding – or some combination of all three) the day is marked by an atmosphere like no other.

There is a real camaraderie in the air.

I chalk this up to one BIG reason:

The people taking part really want to be there.

I mean, why else would you subject yourself to the late-Fall elements on a Sunday morning in mid-November? Off the cuff, I can think of a few things that may be just a tad more comfortable (and warm, and cozy) than careening about UBC while fat, frigid raindrops spatter your face, and soak your runners.

(Just a couple mind you.)

For me, as much as I love the blanket forest I like to call a bed, I really wanted to end the (running) year on a high note, and knew that taking part in this run was just the ticket.

So come Sunday morning, I picked up the lovely Ms. Alannah (from her own bed of rest), and together we drove into campus.

(Side note: UBC has changed so much since my time there as a student! It was mind blowing to see all the new residential and retail developments that have popped in areas that once were nothing but a home for trees.)

As we neared the student recreational building – where I was to pick up my race bib and shirt – I realized that I had forgotten my wallet at Alannah’s house. Never one to waste an opportunity for a minor spaz attack, I quickly bellowed, “MY WALLET ON NO HOW WILL WE PAY FOR PARKING THE DAY IS OVER!!!1!1!.”

Luckily, my co-pilot, being much saner than I, whipped out her trusty pay-parking app on her smart phone. Before I had a chance to even squeeze out one anxiety-related tear, she had paid for three hours of parking, and had taught me how to top up in case we needed more time.

Genius.

Then it was off to pick up my gear, check my bag, and head over to Irving K. Barber library (a warm, dry haunt situated right next to the start line) where we got the chance to glimpse the leaders of the half-marathon (they started an hour before us 10kers) as they flew by, finishing their first lap of the course.

Before we knew it, it was already 9:30 and time for us to take off.

Just standing outside for five minutes before the gun went off was enough to put a wee chill into my bones. I was wearing long running pants, a compression shirt, my tough mudder t-shirt, and a toque, but even still, the wind was winding, the rain, raining, and the cold, colding.

I couldn’t count down the seconds fast enough.

It’s always a bit of a mad-dash-gong-show whenever the gun goes off. You’re trying to find your pace, and your place among all the other runners, trying not to clip anyone’s heel, or box someone out.

Again, I felt that my speed was fast, but not uncomfortably so, and I figured I would go just go with the flow – pushing my body, but not to the point of distress.

Speaking of which, the women with whom I ran the majority of the race sounded like a bloody train! I was so worried that she was going to collapse, or burst a lung, what with how hard she was breathing (and from the very outset at that!) Talk about incredibly disquieting and discombobulating. I let her run ahead for most of the course, and then ran past her in the final one kilometer.

I’m not going to pretend as though this didn’t fill be with a little bit of (perverse) happiness.

Heh heh heh…

Anyways, back to the course, as the gods wept overhead, we zigzagged along Marine Drive, enjoyed a few stunning ocean vistas, and cowered in the shadows of the foreboding, but beautiful tree line that decorates much of this stretch of road.

When we turned around at the 5k marker, the wind immediately died and it was at this point that I realized wearing a toque may not have been the brightest idea.

In the words of GOB: I had made a huge mistake.

In order to save my head from exploding due to extreme heat build up, I yanked it off and mashed it into my pants’ pocket. At first this was mega-weird, and I felt a tiny bit conspicuous, what with the giant bulge I was now sporting on the left side of my body, but after about thirty seconds I promptly forgot that it was even there.

Runners zen dear readers.

It will make you forget about anything.

As we snaked back through the university, my stomach began to feel a little queasy, which only served to make me run faster.

My legs were feeling a little stiff, but I tried to power through this (slight) case of lethargy.

Before I even knew it cow bells were being rung in every which direction and I was just powering it with everything I had to get me across that finish line.

It’s been so long since I last ran a 10k (in a race) and after three consecutive half-marathons, I was a little incredulous that the whole thing was already over.

I congratulated my heavy-breathing running mate on a race well run, before heading towards the Student Union Building (or as we affectionately call it, the SUB) to change out of my gear. I phoned M, let him know how the race went, and then returned to the finish line to cheer on Alannah as she completed the course.

Overall, I ran a solid 42 minute race, and was the 13^th female to finish (57^th overall)

For a rainy, windy, cold, cold day, I couldn’t have asked for anything else.

Although the delicious syrup, and raspberry soaked waffles I inhaled at brunch were a fabulous bonus.

Take a deep breath, and jump right in

Home again home again, jiggity jog.

Our short sojourn up the BC mainland has come to an end – much too quickly (as always), but we have many hilarious and brilliant memories to keep us content and warm until our next hop to paradise.

The mercury has dipped like a salsa chip here on the west coast – if I had to wager a guess, I would say that it dropped at least ten degrees Celsius over the past few days, from sitting comfortably in the low-teens on Thursday, to flirting with just above zero this morning.

Something shifts when the weather changes.

Just this morning, out on my run, my interactions with nature seemed both comforting and slightly stilted.

Like my environs were a dense wool sweater – protection against the frost – that I hadn’t yet grown into.

I swear I could hear ever rustle of every leaf, every gust of wind winding its way through every branch of every tree. The piercing call of a steller’s jay, the haunting call of a loon, the unsure bark of a dog – everything somehow magnified and yet muffled, overwhelming but also out of reach.

The rhythm of my breathing, a friendly, reassuring constant, despite the slight discomfort in my little lungs, adjusting to those first big gulps of frigid air.

My favourite route – high hills, blind curves, douglas firs. The sea salt air tickling my (red, running) nose.

Sometimes I run so fast I cry; tears streaming down my face, propelled by the wind, the cold, my speed.

Sometimes I don’t want to blink.

Because if I blink, it will be gone.

Magic:

Ferry.

Morning sunshine.

Afternoon fade.

Work.

Into the woods.

Games.

Dinners.

Music.

Fires.

Fog.

…

So there you have it beauty cats.

Memories, for another day.

We are now back at home, hunkered down. The fire roars and the fat rain drops coat the world a cool, slick, black.

What did you all get up to for the weekend?

Hang up those wet coats, and rest awhile.

Standing in the shower thinking

Hey you beauty cats.

After a weekend of solid rain this is what we have been gifted on this otherwise ordinary Monday:

Everywhere the trees look like they are fire-kissed, fresh out of the autumn oven.

Leaves litter sidewalks and parking lots, an electric collage of reds, oranges, yellows, purples, and greens.

They are maple shaped, multi-coloured cobblestones that crunch (not clatter) underfoot.

For myself, after two days in a row of running in an absolute deluge I am fit to bursting with excitement to get outside and stretch my legs in the sunshine.

While there is always something to be said for running in the rain, I made the absolute worst mistake on Sunday afternoon.

I wore WAY too many pieces of clothing.

To make matters worse, I not only managed to cook myself alive, but did so despite running in what was, for all intents and purposes, a gigantic, omnipresent shower stall.

(With the water set to FULL BLAST.)

Not even an actual, real-live ice cold shower post-run could sufficiently bring down my core temperature, and for a good portion of the afternoon afterwards I was plagued by residual (and random) heat attacks.

Lest it need repeating – shedding clothing (at the drop of a hat) in public is not the defining character trait I aim to cultivate.

On the bright side, at least I will be a seasoned veteran of these things by the time menopause rolls around.

Little victories.

So how, exactly, did I end up dressed for Siberia (despite encountering Seattle), sweating my little face off?

I made the mistake of assuming that the massive fog bank that had rolled in that morning would be a pretty good indicator of what was happening outside temperature-wise, and as such, was duped into thinking that winter wear was a must.

What can I say? I see fog, I think freezing.

Boy was I wrong.

But as they say, live and learn!

Live and learn.

I’m actually glad I’m making these mistakes now, and not come the 18^th – as a hardcore over-heat on race day is pretty much my worst nightmare ever (and definitely much worse than going into a run under-dressed, because when that happens at the very least you can just run faster to warm yourself up.)

Because –

Dudes, I am so excited to run in this race.

MEEP.

First, there is something so delicious knowing that it is only ten kilometers long.

The last three competitions I’ve entered have all been half-marathons (where ten km doesn’t even count for the half-way mark) so I am practically giddy knowing that once I reach the 7km sign I am pretty much at home plate.

And while I do, of course, hope that the rains stay away, I can’t help but wish that come race-day, when the gun goes off, the temperature is on the colder side.

Just enough so that I can wear my sweet, sweet running pants (the ones that keep my legs feeling limber and lithesome, and that trick my limbs into thinking I have swaddled them in feathers and fleece).

(Plus, being the good Canadian girl that I am, I never give up the chance to wear a sweet toque.)

Second, my amazing and hilarious friend Alannah is also racing and THIS WOMAN IS SO FUNNY I HAVE ABS BECAUSE OF HER.

I can only imagine the post-run hijinks that will ensue.

And finally, well, I seem to be on some kind of perpetual runner’s high (hot flashes be damned) and I’m just stoked about competing on a new course, with new people, in a new season.

Variety and spice, and all that, right?

What about you folks?

Do you prefer to run in the heat or cold? And what pieces of clothing make braving the elements just that little bit easier?

You can tell me all about it, once I get out of the shower.