Number Five Recap: A Bum Knee, Bad Hip and Blisters (All In a Day's Work)

As it turns out, I didn't have to crawl on my hands and knees to cross the finish line on Sunday... although, it came close to that.

Get ready...
After four-plus months of training, almost five years on the blog and going back nearly eight years to when this crazy marathoning journey started, all I wanted to do was make it to the start line of the BMO Vancouver Marathon healthy and ready to rock. Unfortunately, some problems with my right knee crept up on me during my taper and, even though I spent days resting and icing it, it became a problem that I couldn't ignore.

Thankfully (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), I'm stubborn like a mule so that wasn't going to stop me. 

Get set...
Race weekend is normally such a big deal for me; I love the anticipation and excitement of it all. Picking up my race package and being around hundreds or thousands of other runners is normally fun and exhilarating. 

My knee pain, however, kind of sucked all the joy out of race weekend for me. I was hobbling around the Race Expo, super bummed. But by the night before the race, I had somehow managed to calm (steel?) the nerves and put it out of mind. Que sera, sera, as it were.

Go!
As I stood in my corral with the other "slow" runners, I started to feel that rush of being at the start line with the whole morning in front of me. I had decided to pace very conservatively, to give my knee time to warm up and hopefully loosen up. The first few kilometres went by with no issues at all, and I began to gain a little confidence - something I had been lacking all week long. 

At some point, I noticed my knee felt... well, if not good then as good as it was going to get. The problem was actually my right hip. It's just a theory, but I think my hip started to compensate for my knee, which is why the knee felt okay. Overall, this compensation might have been okay over a short distance, but the hip started to really tighten up the further into the race I went.  

Remembering my conversation with the Team Diabetes staff a few days earlier, I listened to my body and made concessions. At first, I decided to switch from running 10 minutes/walking one minute, to running five minutes/walking one minute i.e. five and ones instead of 10 and ones, hoping to give my hip a rest and a bit of a "walking stretch". I also told myself, "Get to the halfway mark." 

Pausing at the top of the hill

Sure enough, I made it past the halfway marker on this strategy. But by this point, the race had circled around to the top of Pacific Spirit Park heading into Spanish Banks/Point Grey... all downhill. Normally, this would be great - a nice chance to recover. But not this time. This long downhill stretch was bad on the hip. Real bad. 

Wait. Abort?
Once I got down the hill I had to change my strategy again and, instead of running five and ones, I had to switch to running every two minutes... and then every other minute. 

I set a new target: get to Spanish Banks, which was about 23 km in. I figured, that's a reasonable goal... and if I could make it there, I'd be back on "home turf" i.e. one of my regular running neighbourhoods. Maybe - just maybe - by telling myself these things, I could trick my body into going a little further each time. 

At Spanish Banks, another new target: make it to 32 km. "At least at 32 km", I told myself, "that will match my longest long run. Make it to 32 km and walk from there." 

© The Oatmeal

Sadly, the hip gave up well before then - at around 26 km, as a matter of fact. If my hip could talk, it was basically saying, "Fuck you, lady. Did you hear me? NOPE."

So... I walked. 

And then, right at Cornwall and Yew in Kitsilano, at about 27 km - I'll never forget it, because I run this area all the time - I started to cry. I tried to hold the tears back, but they came anyway. All I could think about was that I was so far from the end ohmigod I'll never make it what do I do I don't know what to do I don't think I can make it. 

One foot in front of the other. I put one foot in front of the other for one more block - and there was my husband, standing at the next corner. 

When I got close enough, I didn't hold back anymore. I started sobbing. I'm so far from the end ohmigod I'll never make it what do I do I don't know what to do I don't think I can make it.

We started walking together a little, so I could try and calm down. And then we saw it: the 28 km marker. 

My brain: 14 km. 14 km left. 

Me: "14 km. There's 14 km left." [pause - then, to my husband:] "Wanna walk 14 km with me?"

My husband: "Sure."

And just like that, my husband saved my marathon.

"How much further?" "It's a little, tiny... 9 miles."
Wow, Simon Pegg. I can SO relate.

Nothing like a beautiful stroll on a Sunday afternoon
That's how I finished number five. Walking 14 km with my husband, on a Sunday afternoon, over the Burrard Street bridge, along English Bay and around the whole of Stanley Park. 

It may not have been stunning "running" (as BMO Vancouver Marathon runners know it). It was definitely not how I'd imagined my day would go. But for something so unexpected, it could have been so much worse. 

Some of the MarathonFoto pics from the event are available and, while I can't share any of them on the blog (because I haven't bought any), let me tell you: I looked a sad sack in so many - but not in the pics with my husband next to me. I'm actually smiling in those. Which, considering how badly this marathon was turning out performance-wise, was surprising. 

I asked for a miracle, didn't I? Turns out, I got one. 

Unofficial results

The result
The full marathon started at 8:30 am. I crossed the finish line at 2:46 pm. My gun time was 6 hours and 16 minutes, chip time 6 hours and 8 minutes. 

Overall, I placed at 3,479 out of 4,696 full marathoners. In my category of F35-39, 204 out of 284. Out of all females, I was number 1,347 out of 1,866. 

New personal bests worsts in a lot of ways but - you know something? Who cares? A finish is a finish is a finish. Right? As a friend told me post-marathon, "It's never about the measure or time but always about the journey and process. You showed perseverance, resilience and heart. Never forget that you are a fighter. Unreal job."

So - how does it feel? To quote the (IMHO) inimitable movie, Bring It On: "Feels like first."

War wounds
I really wanted to mention my "war wounds" from the day, because they were (are) significant... ly painful. 

Posterior knee pain (left). Since my right hip gave out completely and the left side of my body had to do so much work to compensate, I ended up with a hella lot of pain at the back of my left knee. A little research, and it turns out - there's a muscle back there! The internet tells me this is called the popliteus. Who knew? Walking is now an issue but hopefully only a temporary setback.

Sorry gang, had to include a pic. This blister is so weird!

Blisters. The bum knee, bad hip and painful popliteus all resulted in poor "running" (I use the term loosely) form... which translated into crazy blisters. Which - for one - is unusual because I don't normally get blisters. But the blisters were also strangely placed: right at the base of my third and fourth toes on my left foot, and on the bottoms of the fourth toe on both feet. 

Inner thigh chafing. This one could probably have been avoided but - my bad. I chose to wear running shorts that I knew sometimes chafed along the inner thigh. Thankfully, the chafing was relatively minimal and nothing that a warm shower and a little antibiotic ointment couldn't handle. 

Sunday night, I couldn't use my right hip flexor at all. I was sitting on the floor with my legs straight out in front of me, and my right hip refused to lift my right leg up. It was kind of like it drank too much and passed out - no reaction, whatsoever. 

Ironically, the right knee that had bothered me all last week is now completely pain-free. I just don't get it. Maybe I'm not meant to.

Honourable mentions
Shitty day aside, running this marathon in Vancouver was pretty amazing. There's a reason why this event has been going strong for decades: the Vancouver International Marathon Society knows what they're doing. Like, for real. A well-organized course, fun entertainment stations, a highly engaged and mobilized volunteer force... who could ask for more?

I also saw so many friends on the course, which I never experienced before in previous marathons because none of them were in my city! Thank you so much Kirsten, Kathy P., Hecel, Christina S. and Fay. Seeing you ladies really helped put a smile on my face and keep my spirits up. 

Hanging out at the start line before
the corrals get too crowded

Of course, I would be absolutely remiss to not give my husband HUGE PROPS here. I genuinely believe I would not have crossed the finish line without his love and support. So, thank you Matt! for literally being by my side and metaphorically carrying me for 14 km. You salvaged this race for me. As with so many things in this life, I could not have done this without you. I love you.

Good job, running friends!
I'd also like to congratulate everyone else who ran either the full or half marathon on Sunday: Jeny, Christina S. and her sister, Jim, Jen T. and Samantha (sorry if I've inadvertently missed anyone). Hope you all had great races! 

Fundraising update

Good job, friends!

Thanks to a few (somewhat forgetful and/or tardy) friends, a few more donations for my fundraising campaign in memory of my dad came in at the 11th hour to put the campaign at $3,681! This total was a team effort from 80 donors giving anywhere between $10 and $100. You guys made this happen. Thank you so much. 

If you'd still like to give, please do so at my Team Diabetes personal page! Donations can be made for two more months following the marathon, so there is still time. All proceeds go towards diabetes research, education and advocacy. Tax receipts are issued for donations of $15 or more.

And... relax
What happens now? I dunno. For now, I'm just gonna bask in the glory that is finally finishing number five. I have slayed the proverbial dragon. That's good enough for me.

Chillin' with John Stanton from the
Running Room post-marathon. No big.

How to Train for and Run a Marathon: A Non-Exhaustive Shortlist

In training:

1. Stick to the training schedule.
2. Run at times of day similar to the scheduled race time to get used to what might happen on race day e.g. waking up early enough, eating breakfast, prepping gear, getting dressed, stretching and warming up, etc.
3. Run in all kinds of weather - because you never know what you're gonna get on race day.

   

   I was here... and here, and here...

4. Run on the same surface as the race to condition your body for similar impact e.g. concrete or trails versus treadmills.
5. Pay attention to your diet (nutrition is important).
6. Stay hydrated.
7. Get enough sleep.
8. Find someone who knows more than you about running and ask them lots of questions about everything you don't know - but know that not everything works the same or as well for everyone. 
9. Find a good registered massage therapist and visit him/her as often as you can.
10. Find a good physiotherapist and consult him/her as needed.
11. Give yourself lots of encouragement every day.
12. Surround yourself with people who support your goals. 
13. Ignore the "Negative Nancies" and "Downer Dougs".
14. Don't be a douchebag runner to other runners. This includes not being a "Negative Nancy" or "Downer Doug."

Specifically for race day:

1. Get enough sleep leading up to the race (tip: even a good night's sleep two nights before versus the night before the race can be enough - just try and stay well rested as race day approaches).
2. Don't try or do anything new e.g. with clothing (potential chafing), gear (unexpected issues with weight, function), breakfast, gels or other nutrition (avoiding digestive issues), etc.
3. Get to the start line with time to spare.
4. Enjoy the race! You've earned it.

Journal entry 

Today's run: 23 km and technically, the last LSD in the training schedule. Yay for tapering! Weather: overcast and partly sunny this morning, which is why I deliberately went out early (note: it's raining now but at least I'm watching the bad weather from my couch instead of being in it). Feeling: glad to have missed the rain! And looking forward to the rest of the weekend.

...and also here.

Friday Fun Run

Happy Friday, friends! 

For once, we experienced bonafide, grade A sunshine in Vancouver today. Yippee! Unfortunately, it's back to rain tomorrow. Sad face! 

Wowza, if I do say so myself. Look at this daaaayy!

Knowing this, I went out for a random little run this afternoon - in shorts! - to soak up some vitamin D. I also decided to skip the regular routes and run just for fun. The result: a view I don't normally see from on foot, which always helps to keep the running fresh. After nearly four months of running largely the same routes from week to week, anything new and interesting at this stage is a welcome change.

Journal entry 
Today's run: 7 km. Weather: sunny. Beautiful. Glorious. Feeling: pretty darn good. Glad for the change of scenery. 

Good luck to everyone taking part in races this weekend, including the Vancouver Sun Run and London Marathon. Have fun out there!

Running Round-up: Happy Belated Easter Edition

Spring has sprung.
Now... will it stay??

This past weekend was spent by many enjoying Easter egg hunts and eating chocolate. Me? I got plenty of sleep and waited for the best day forecast in the long weekend to run 32 km - the last big long run in the training schedule before the mileage tapers off. 

Fundraising update: less than $500 to go!
My campaign has levelled off at $3,001, just about $500 shy of my fundraising target of $3,500. This means, if only 34 more people gave $15 each, or 20 people gave $25 each or 10 people gave $50 each (I mean, you get the idea, right?)... I'd make my goal! 

If you haven't yet donated, now is the time! Please visit my Team Diabetes fundraising page and give what you can. If you've already donated, muchas gracias, amigos. You're the best.

Huh. Who knew?
From The Runner's Book of Daily Inspiration, by Kevin Nelson (which I've mentioned on this blog before):

Your body is responding to what you're doing... you see it every time you run. The course seems shorter somehow... your running is smoother and easier. You want to run longer because you're more able to handle it.

After 16+ weeks of training, the above totally happened this weekend. And - honestly? It came as a really welcome surprise, as I was coming off extremely uncomfortable and personally disappointing long runs in the past few weeks. Sure, I'm still out there for four and half hours but where I used to bonk at 17 km, I feel like I'm just getting started. 23 and 26 km long runs on the schedule? No longer a terrifying prospect. I guess it's true what the trainers say: to get better at running, run more (within reason, of course). 

We like to leave lots of "chocolate eggs" for our
humans lying around everywhere.

Bunny trainers
Another Easter has come and gone and, as I'm lucky enough to live with two buns of my own year-round, I don't really feel the urge to gush over rabbits too much during this time of year. That said, here's a pic of them... you know, just in case you didn't get your fill of cuteness this holiday weekend. 'Til next time, friends.

Running with Lady Cramps: A Special Kind of Hell

Preamble: I've hesitated to post anything too female-specific on this site, but seeing as more than half the population is made up of women, and all women have similar issues on this front - and betting that the majority of my readers are female - here we are.

Dudes: this post may be TMI (too much information) for you, depending on your comfort level with lady-specific issues. Proceed with caution. 

Menstrual cramps = the worst. Am I right, girls?

I've always thought it grossly unfair that women should have to endure such discomfort month after month: cramps, headaches, mood swings, nausea, bloating. Need I say more? (Stupid men.)

© Getty Images

In actuality, the menstrual cycle causes variations in hormonal levels throughout the month, with high levels of estrogen pumping through our systems right before ovulation but dropping really low during premenstruation - causing all sorts of great symptoms like many of the ones aforementioned, as well as sluggishness and fatigue. However, once menstruation starts up again, estrogen levels go back on the rise, resulting in energy going up as well (Kowalchik, 1999). 

About running while on a period... as running author Claire Kowalchik puts it, "Even if I'm feeling like I really don't want to run--the running seems effortless once I get going. In fact, I ran my fastest and easiest marathon on the first day of my period one year" (Kowalchik, 1999, p.140). 

At the risk of even more TMI, I've got my period right now. In the past, I've suffered debilitating cramps and menstrual headaches which would put me out for days, if not longer. So, this morning, and in the interest of deciding whether or not to give today's long run a try, I pulled Kowalchik's book off the shelf, flipped through her chapter on "Special Concerns as a Woman: Menstruation" and (re-)read her quote above. Buoyed by her experience, I decided to head out there... and also because I knew the alternative would be sitting on the couch, wondering if I should've at least given it a try. 

Long story short: SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

I deliberately chose a route that would keep me close to where I could bail and call a cab if things got really bad. While escape-by-cabbie did not end up happening, I came so close to doing so on multiple occasions. 

The first 40 minutes or so I thought - initially - were the worst. The menstrual cramping was bad, and so I just focused on breathing and throwing my feet out in front of me, one step at a time. Eventually, the cramps subsided... but then they came back... and then they subsided... and then came back. 

There seemed to be no pattern to it; they just came and went, seemingly as they pleased. And each time they came back, things got a little worse because I was getting longer into the run and more tired as the morning went on. 

At some point I realized there was nothing more important than focusing on running through the pain of my menstrual cramps. Pace, heart rate, gait... basically, all the things one should be concerned about while running... none of these things mattered more than just getting through this current cramp.

And then - it started to rain. And I cried. I couldn't help it. I was tired, uncomfortable and barely keeping my shit together as it was. So when the rain started, it kinda broke me a little.

But then I got over it - and lucky too as, soon after, I bumped into a friend who was also out for her run. Last thing I'd want while out running is to see someone I know, while bawling my eyes out. That's not good for anyone. 

Fortunately, after my mini-breakdown and bumping into my friend, I was about 6 km from home and towards the end of my run - just a bridge and a very familiar route left. 

But then, with about 3 km to go, the oddest thing happened. 

I realized I was going to be short on my run - by about 1/2 a km - and instead of living with it, I decided to stay out a little longer to make the distance for today. 

Fortitude. Who knew? It shocked the hell out of me to discover I had some left. 

Post-run was all about the protein and painkillers. And now - I sit, eat and will generally do nothing the rest of the day after publishing this blog post. I believe I've earned it.

Any of you ladies ever run while on your period? What was your experience? Hope it was better than mine. 

Journal entry for today
Today's run: 26 km. The schedule actually called for 29 km, but I decided to compromise given Aunt Flo was in town. My typical 29 km route would have taken me out to places where I couldn't call a cab if things went bad, so I opted for my 26 km route instead so I could have the option to abort if need be. Weather: the forecast called for partly sunny and no showers. Guess they got that one wrong. Feeling: glad to have done my run and finished so well, but I'll probably never run while on my period ever again. Strangely enough, even with all the menstrual cramps and negotiating with myself on whether to stay out there, I still felt better about this run than last week's 23 km run... the bad mood of which, I realize now, may have been due to depleted estrogen stores in addition to the massive hangover. Live and learn.

Source
Kowalchik, C. (1999). The Complete Book of Running for Women.

Looking Into the LSD

LSD. No, not that, or even "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". I'm talking about the long slow distance run, like the one I did today. I've always wondered why marathon training programs typically top out at 32 km, so I looked into it. Here's what I found out.

Why 32 km?
The training program I've referenced for all of my marathons comes from the Running Room and, like many other programs, the longest distance to run in training is 32 km (20 mi). But why this distance, specifically, and not something closer to actual marathon distance of 42.2 km? According to the interwebs (Matz, 2014; Runner's World, 2014), the general theory is: anything longer can increase the risk of injury. Recovery also takes longer with any runs over 32 km. 

Hanson’s marathon training method (Humphrey, 2011) also outlines that running for more than three hours means diminishing returns for runners, doing more harm than good by damaging muscles, compromising recovery time, and depleting glycogen stores significantly (Matz, 2014).

At least I'm consistent.

Best to ignore that though, right?
The above, however, I believe does not apply to me. According to a trainer I worked with when I first ran with Diabetes Canada in 2009, the long run pace for those looking "to complete" i.e. no specific finish time goals should be "between 8:30 to 9:30 minutes per kilometer...if you are going faster you stressing [sic] your body to the point that it can not [sic] recover by the next quality workout" (email from Team Diabetes Trainer, 2009). Doing the math, this works out to what is my typical finish time for these long runs which is around four and a half hours.

So... I dunno
In summary, looking at all the information as a whole: I dunno what the right answer is. What I do know is that, until I got the above information from a trainer, I had been running too fast (for me) on my long runs and was well on my way to injury and burnout. Her advice saved me in training for my first marathon, and I successfully finished that marathon without getting hurt. And - looking at my data over the years and having finished three more marathons since then, I'd say that advice has served me well over the years.

If anyone else is slower, I sure haven't seen them
Logically, I know there are slower runners than me out there; finisher information from all of my races has told me that. But where they are? I sure as hell don't know. I don't pass anyone when I'm out there; I am definitely the one getting passed. Sometimes this bothers me, but then I remind myself of the distance I'm running and I usually get over it. 

...but then, what if they're running the same distance, only a lot faster than me? In those instances, I'm gonna guess that advice like Hanson's is for them. 

In conclusion...
With six more weeks of training to go, I'm gonna stick with what I know works. That means, slow long runs, soaking my legs in cold water, foam rolling, rest and shorter runs throughout the week. This way, I know that I can recover adequately from week to week. No pushing past what is realistic for me. No comparing myself to others and what I'm reading on the internet (even though that can be really hard to do). And - if I could - I would run this marathon tomorrow, mainly because I'm sick of training. But since that's not possible, all I can do is stay vigilant, and hope for nice weather and strong runs based on my current fitness level. 

Journal entry for today
Today's run: 32 km. Weather: started out damp, but turned out to be partly sunny (thank you, Mother Nature!). Feeling: good. Confident. Which is freaking me out, a little. Not sure if I should embrace it, or wait for the other shoe to drop. Gonna try to let it go.

No rain looks good on you, Vancouver.

Sources
Humphrey, L. (2011). Hanson’s Marathon Method: The 16 Miler. Hansons Running.
Matz, J. (2014). How long should your longest run of marathon training be? WalkJogRun.
Runner's World (2014). Forums Topic: Marathon training plans stopping at 32K.

Keep on Running

29 km was on the schedule again today and man, did things click soooooo much better than last week. Focus, pacing, running the tangents, gait, cadence - it all worked well today. Guess that means last week's 29 km run did some good.

I was so hyperfocused, in fact, that I took no pictures and shot zero video. So instead, here's the Spencer Davis Group for a little entertainment.

Today's run: 29 km. Weather: no rain, thank God (especially after getting drenched, cold and miserable on last weekend's long run). Feeling: like I'm in a good place. My left Achilles had been bothering me a little this week, so I was a little anxious when I first started out but it all turned out okay. Guess the icing and stretching I'd been doing helped. How about that?

Next week: 32 km and the first attempt at the longest distance in the training schedule. Bring it.

P.S. Happy last day of winter! Good riddance.

Run. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

I ran 29 km yesterday and while my long runs are normally followed by copious amounts of eating and sleeping, the World Rugby Sevens Series was in town all weekend so I forewent my regular schedule to check out the festivities and reserved most of my big napping for today. This is also the reason why I'm posting this update only now. But hey, it's another vlog entry!

Spending what little is left of the weekend (stupid Daylight Savings Time) foam rolling, doing some light stretching and putting my feet up. What are your plans?

Learning From Doing: Part 2

Hey running friends! It's February 26 and, coincidentally, today's long run was 26 km. One word to sum it up: ouch. But I had a few thoughts to keep me going which I figured I'd share with y'all here.

Garbage in, garbage out
Today's run was pretty sluggish overall, which came as a surprise since last weekend's 23 km long run felt generally okay. The only thing I could chalk it up to was having a friend in town last week, which meant eating a little worse and drinking a little more than usual over a seven day average. I'm not saying my eating habits are great anyway (this body ain't no temple, that is for certain), but after slogging through the first 16 km, and then bonking hard between 17 and 19 km this morning, I figured my poor nutritional habits from the last few days probably played at least a small part. 

Run the tangents

My GPS map from the Royal Victoria Marathon in 2009:
the longest distance I have ever run in my life. Ever.

I ran my first marathon in 2009. A marathon distance is, of course, 42.2 km. My actual distance covered in that race, based on my Garmin GPS data: 42.7 km. That's right - a whole half a km more than necessary. Ever since then, I've learned to run the tangents: the shortest distance or line in the curves/corners. Around every bend and every curve, I reevaluate and change things up to make sure I'm running the shortest distance possible for that route because - let's face it - these long runs are ass kickers and I don't want to be running any longer than absolutely necessary.

Love those hills
Okay, so maybe "love" is a strong word. But I'm a firm believer that every hill, while daunting, is a moment of fantastic opportunity - to set a new goal e.g. to jog or run the entire hill without stopping, to refocus one's position in a race e.g. to try and pass someone up ahead, or to decide what you're made of e.g. to walk or run. Next time you find yourself looking upwards at another bridge or incline, instead of thinking, "Oh holy jeebus", try thinking, "I'm gonna own you." It's an attitude adjustment, for sure, but you might just surprise yourself in how you approach that hill. If nothing else, remember: for every up, there's a down. So, there's that to look forward to. Right? Ahh, the yin and yang of running.

Today's run: 26 km long run. Weather: started out around 2°C and overcast, but warmed up to about 6°C with scattered sunshine by the time I was done (yup, I'm pretty slow). Feeling: tired but good. Looking forward to the distance backing off next week... "only" 19 km scheduled for the long run, yippee!

Even If We're Just Running In The Dark: Afterthought

After attempting a run in the seriously pitch black, pre-sunrise towards the end of last week on a path that was not lit at all (and ironically, not taking my own advice), I realized I had one more tip for running in the dark: use a head lamp! Bonus: you'll feel like a miner... maybe. 

Today's run: 8 km relaxed. Weather: 6°C and slightly overcast, but with the most incredible sunset I've seen in a long time. (I didn't take my phone with me tonight, so I'm afraid you'll just have to take my word for it.) Feeling: so great, I said "Fuckin' eh!" aloud when I made distance. Hopefully those around me just chalked it up to Tourette's.

Even If We're Just Running In The Dark

Before I launch into this post, I'd just like to say this: fuck [gasp] you [wheeze] hill sprints [pant]. 

Okay! Now that's done, this post covers running in the dark. Given this time of year, if you are an early morning, after work or even late-ish evening runner, chances are you've had to run in the pitch black. I'd like to make sure all of you stay safe out there, so here are a few safety tips I've picked up over the years for running when it's dark outside. 

• Run with a friend. If you can't run with a friend, or prefer to run alone, see below.
• Plan to run on well-marked, well-lit trails that are inaccessible to traffic. Even better, run on trails where you're sure to encounter other people (safety in numbers).
• Wear light-coloured or bright clothing with reflective patches or strips.

Recently, a friend bought me an LED light with two settings - blink or glow - that can easily be attached to a zipper, belt loop, etc. I've found this relatively inexpensive accessory quite handy and another easy way to make sure drivers, cyclists and other people on foot can see you... which really, is the whole point.

What other precautions do you take to make sure you're seen when it's dark outside?

A Note on Fear

In my last post, I mentioned how terrifying it can be to run distances one has either never run before or not run in a very long time. 

In his recent (and incredibly interesting) interview with Marc Maron, Bruce Springsteen had this to say about fear:

Your desperation has to be greater than your fear. Your desperation, your hunger, your desires, your ego, your ambition, has to be greater than your fear of complete humiliation. So as long as you have that equation correctly balanced, you're going out there, my friend! No matter what happens!

While he spoke of fear in the context of performing in front of huge crowds of people, his thoughts on this topic still resonated with me with respect to running. Insightful, no? Testify, Bruce.

Running Journal
Today's run: 4 km hill sprints (worst! ever! you know, in case you didn't get that impression from me earlier). Weather: a little rainy but, at 7°C, much warmer than it's been recently. Feeling: accomplished, strangely. Besides being completely and totally out of breath, of course. 

Musical Interlude
Since there seems to be a theme with this post, here's a video for you from the one, the only, The Boss. Enjoy. 

Feels Like The First Time (Marathoning)

This is the 100th post on Five by 35! Thanks to everyone for reading the blog and supporting me and my running. You're the best. And hey - if you haven't yet given to my Team Diabetes fundraiser in memory of my dad, maybe now is a good time (just saying!). 

Some of you may be wondering what it actually takes to train for a marathon. In all honesty, given that I haven't run one in nearly three years, I'm kind of wondering that myself.

Don't get me wrong. Logically, I know what I need to be doing. To sum it up, see below. 

But mentally? That's another question. 

Training for number five feels like training for the first marathon, all over again. According to the schedule, I ran 13 km this morning; I haven't run that distance since January 2015 (yes, I checked - thank you, Garmin Connect stats). 

Over the next 16 weeks, the long distances are going to slowly creep up, from 13 km to 16, 19, 23, 26, 29 and finally, 32 km. And with each increase in distance, I'll have to answer this question for myself: can I do it? The only way to find out is to put my shoes on, force myself out there and take it one step at a time.

It's terrifying. But hopefully, it will all be worth it.

Today's run: 13.5 km. Weather: 0°C and overcast. Feeling: a little frustrated at first, as I inadvertently forgot to turn my heart rate monitor on and so freaked out a little because I really wanted to track how things were going. But I decided to stop, turn it on, and then kept going. 

P.S. A special shout-out to my friends and fellow runners, Chelsea W. and Christina S., who ran the Star Wars Half Marathon - The Light Side at the Disneyland Resort today. Great job, ladies! Very proud of you both.

A Love Affair

I moved to the Canadian west coast 13 years ago and haven't looked back since.

The city has its faults: stark class divides, gentrification - displacing and further marginalizing some of the city's most vulnerable, skyrocketing real estate prices. But its natural beauty is unparalleled.

I've been running long distances here now for the better part of a decade. I've spent hours on trails, on the seawall and along the beaches and, each time, I marvel at the splendour this place has to offer. I'm so grateful for taking the chance to move here. That decision changed my life, in more ways than I can say.

False Creek sunrise

I'm sure I've written about my love affair with this city before, but it definitely bears repeating. Vancouver: I love you.

Inukshuk at English Bay

Small Inukshuks and other assorted "rock art"

Today is a rest day but yesterday's run: 8 km. Weather: still cold for Vancouver but, with the incredible sunrises we've been having, who cares? Feeling: okay. Calves are not great, for some reason. Probably in need of a little stretching and massage. 

Stay tuned for future posts, where I plan to actually write about running (go figure!). I'm working up some material on new and old gear, and what it takes to train for a marathon.

Running Round-Up: What Would've Been My Dad's Birthday Edition

Seeing as my dad's 79th birthday would have been yesterday, I decided to take the day off as I wasn't sure how I would feel about it. Turns out, it was a total bummer.

I've never had the experience of having to endure a birthday of someone I've cared about who has died. A confidante suggested I do something that would have made my dad happy - like, take the money I would have spent on a gift or card and donate it to a charity, or take part in an activity that makes me happy because it's likely my dad would have preferred I do that than wallow in misery (hard to argue).

So I compromised. Yesterday, I wallowed. Today, I ran. And read poetry.

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
I came across this poem over the summer and found it strangely comforting. None of us is perfect. And even though we all endure hardship, life goes on and so will we. Sometimes that can be hard to remember.

     You do not have to be good.
     You do not have to walk on your knees
     For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
     You only have to let the soft animal of your body
     love what it loves.
     Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
     Meanwhile the world goes on.
     Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
     are moving across the landscapes,
     over the prairies and the deep trees,
     the mountains and the rivers.
     Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
     are heading home again.
     Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
     the world offers itself to your imagination,
     calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
     over and over announcing your place
     in the family of things.     

Journal Entry
Today's run: 10.5 km slow run. Weather: brilliantly sunny. Cool, but warmer than as of late. A nice reprieve before sub-zero temps return to the area tomorrow. Feeling: good. Surprisingly eager for longer distances in the training schedule. Maybe it's the call of the wild geese.

Running Round-Up: End of Year Musings Edition

Proof that I was out there! 

#RunEngland and Gear
My husband and I were recently in England to spend time with family and enjoy the holidays. I even managed to get a couple of runs in while we were there: a nice and relaxed 8k, and a 3k fartlek run. Miracle.  

Overall though, I definitely fell off the training wagon over Christmas, but am raring to go now that I'm home. I've also picked up some new gear to help me out: some traction aids, given the irritatingly persistent snow and icy conditions on the west coast, and a new fuel belt for when my training runs start to go up in distance. I've never had a real fuel belt before - just a makeshift one, where I attached two portable fuel bottles onto my water bottle belt - so this is a little exciting for me. My first real fuel belt!

Final Note for 2016
2016's obviously been a hard year for so many reasons. Going into 2017, I'd like to remember this, courtesy of this year's Doctor Who Christmas special (thank you, Steven Moffat and Peter Capaldi):

Everything ends, and it’s always sad. But everything begins again too, and that’s always happy. Be happy. 

Happy New Year, friends. May your 2017 be happy. 

It's a Vlog Entry!

I know, I know. Vlogging is sooooo 2000s - which makes sense that I'd want to do a vlog entry now! As promised in this short clip, I'll provide updates on today's run a little later.

And... here's the update from today's run (sorry for not posting earlier but I swear this was from this morning). If you liked this post, let me know in the comments and maybe I'll vlog a little more often!