All-in

Yesterday I left work resolute in running 80’. Actually, that’s not quite true, I was drained and heading home on a route that would normally take me +/- 60’. Yet somehow I was hoping, praying, to pick up an additional 20’ along the way. It didn’t happen.

I’ve been tired of late and yesterday was no different. Ally said it was snowing massive flakes at the house, yet as I left the office, you’d have thought she was spinning a yarn. I did. I didn’t want to run, least of all try and squeeze in a workout. Did I mention I was tired? I made my way through Fairfield, along Fernwood and up toward the Cedar Hill Golf Course. It was here, on the southern tip of the 16th hole that I was almost tripped up by a snow bank. How often do you get to say that in Victoria? I can’t remember first noticing the flakes but with nobody around I left what might have been the trail and ran straight down the middle of the fairway. Later, at the northern tip of the course while standing in the middle 8th green, I listened to nothing but the flakes falling. I still treasure the moment.

This morning I left the house a little before 6:30 and ran into town along a combination of quite city streets and the Galloping Goose. I don’t remember seeing another soul until almost in the heart of the city. There is an innocence and tranquility that 15cm of snow brings to a west coast city.

This evening I was ready to hang up the shoes before I’d even left the office. For whatever reason, I feel like I’ve been running, every day, twice a day, for months. And I’m tired of the loose footing, those almost imperceptible little slips that leave your quadriceps feeling you’ve covered twice the distance. Over the Johnson Street Bridge, along the Gorge and over the trestle, tunnel, overpass, tunnel, bridge, bridge. I hated them all this evening. I wanted to stop. Stop running. Stop everything. Why was I so tired? Why on earth was I doing this?

I walked in the house and within seconds, I could hear the slapping of tiny hands making their way down the hall. Moments later a beaming head poked around the corner and Isla was upon me, standing at my leg wanting to be picked up. A minute later still, my jaunt home was a distant memory and had you asked me I would’ve told you it had been fine. Perfect.

Training:
Wednesday: snowy 1:02:15
Thursday: A.M. soft 44:25, P.M. easy 44:15