T-shirt Troubles

There is something odd that happens when running in a t-shirt.

Actually, I should probably clarify that a bit.

There is something odd that happens when running in a t-shirt if you have type 1 diabetes, wear an insulin pump and a continuous glucose monitor (CGM).

And you're me.

The t-shirt running season for me is usually fairly short. In the winter I run in winter running clothes that have nothing to do with a t-shirt. In the early spring I switch to shorts but keep a long-sleeved shirt for a few more weeks. Then it's shorts and a t-shirt but only until it's just barely warm enough and then I switch to my tank top that I wear all summer. Then reverse everything I just wrote as winter rolls back in again.

Last spring, I wrote about how running in a t-shirt seems to dislodge my insulin pump site and/or my CGM. I figured it was the back and forth flow of the t-shirt that did it since my tank top and my winter running tops are all snug and don't move. I wrote about how I was having to run home from work to change a leaky infusion site or having to re-tape my CGM back on because it was barely holding on. Then I stopped writing about that during the summer because it stopped happening.

Yesterday morning it was just cold enough that I put on my t-shirt. Not even thinking.

I ran 7k.

By 2.5k, the shirt had rubbed my CGM to the point where it was barely hanging on and no longer saveable. Since it had already lasted 9 days, I was ok with the sacrifice. Anything under 7 feels like a loss but anything over feels like a win. Still though, 15 minutes of running and my CGM, complete with extra adhesive, fell right off? That won't do at all during long runs and races when I rely on that to tell me what my blood sugar is doing.

I got home, tested my blood sugar and prepared to bolus for breakfast. At the last second I remembered that my site would often leak after running in a t-shirt to I lightly pressed a tissue against it while the insulin went it. I pulled it away afterwards and there was a tiny wet spot that smelled suspiciously like bandaids (insert bleh noise here).

I decided to push the infusion site rather than change it too and it did well all day - no unexplained highs but it did leak a bit with each bolus.

Surprising what one 7k run will do when there is a t-shirt involved. It cost me an $80 CGM site and almost another $20 infusion site. I should take that money and see if I can find a t-shirt that fits like my tank top.

Because I've been reminded that the t-shirt thing just doesn't work for this type 1 gal.

Why the Hell Not?

I'm a rather ambitious person in that I try to do my very best at everything I undertake - be it work, fitness, diabetes care, cooking, blogging or whatever.

That being said, I'm not exactly famous for doing more than I said I would do. I do what I say I'm going to do, and I try to do it well, but I don't overshoot the target.

I've written before about the mental block I seem to have when I'm running, for example. If I have to run 10k on a given day based on my training schedule, I can run 10k. But the thought of running 12k is enough to make me stop at 8k. If I'm supposed to run 10k, I'm running 10k, period.

I love running but really. Enough is enough.

Which makes my behaviour on Sunday morning more than a little bizarre.

See, on Saturday morning, it was bloody awful out. The temperature was only -8 but the wind was howling, the snow was blowing and the Weather Network said it felt like -20 or something ridiculous.

I couldn't take the idea of running into a freezing cold headwind so I headed downstairs (again!) for a trainer workout.

On Sunday morning I woke up to see the trees standing stock still outside my window. And the sun was shining (kind of) which is more than it has done in weeks and weeks.

Doug checked the weather and it was -17C but hardly any wind.

I immediately thought "that's freezing! Maybe I'll just do some yoga stretches and take the day off".

Before I could voice that, Doug said "are you running?".

So I stubbornly said "yes" because I didn't want to wimp out or babble about one excuse or another. Doug had run the day before (on a treadmill) so I figured he'd be hopping on the bike. I didn't want to do nothing if he was doing something. So I said yes.

I got dressed which took about 15 minutes because of all the layers. We're talking three long-sleeved shirts, two pairs of pants, two hats, gloves and mitts, socks, shoes and YakTraks.

During the getting dressed period, I convinced myself that it was perfectly reasonable to make this my easy week and run 10k instead of the 16k I was supposed to. I would just switch with next weekend's easy run and no one would know or care.

I went down to the kitchen, checked my BG (8.0), ate one date which was enough to get me through 10k and got ready to go. As I did, Doug came down in...running clothes.

"What are you doing??" I demanded.

"Going for a run" he replied.

"How far?"

"16k"

"What?!?!"

So now I'm torn. He's running 16k. I've just settled on 10k. Once I decide on a distance, I'm pretty committed. Plus I only ate one date and didn't drop my basal insulin.

Did I mention that I'm stubborn as all get out?

I sighed, ate another date, and told myself that I would run straight down a major road into the countryside. I could turn around at 5k, 6k, 7k or 8k...but I knew I'd turn around at 5k. Because who wants to run 16k when you're only planning on running 10k?

I headed out. It was freezing and I felt 15 pounds heavier because of all the clothes I had on. I was warm enough...but just barely. I ran 3k, and then 4k and was starting to feel pretty good. Surprisingly good actually. I hit 5k and only about 10% of me wanted to turn around which is 90% less than normal by the time I hit the turnaround point. So I ran 6k and still felt good. I told myself to run one more k and then turn. But at 7k I decided it was only 6 and a half minutes to do another one and then I'd be able to say that I ran 16k too. So I did.

I turned around and bounced back home. I passed Doug on his way out because he had left after I did. We stopped for a second, assured each other that we were fine and carried on.

The last few minutes of my run my energy started to fail and I walked into the house with a BG of 4.1.

Two dates, 11 pieces of clothing and a wee bit of a stubborn streak = 16k instead of 10.

Why the hell not?

Snippets

This just feels like a good day to write about random snippets of things.

In the past week, for example, my blog was found by complete strangers who were searching the following things:

"carbohydrates in Cabot Trail whiskey"

"how to train for a 7k marathon"

"My curling shoe is too slippery"

I'm ok with the first one. I'm not sure how different Cabot Trail whiskey is from regular whiskey and I'm not sure that either have any carbs worth mentioning but it's kinda funny that someone found me that way. Perhaps they figured out my secret love of the single malt?

As for the second one, well, I can't really expect every person on the planet to know that there is only one marathon distance and that it is 42.2k. It is a little teeny bit sad though that my blog comes up as a place to find the answer of how to train for a 7k marathon.

For the record, I have never ever trained for a 7k marathon nor do I plan to.

Ever.

The curling shoe one - well, I'm not sure how to say this but curling shoes are just about the slipperiest things on the planet.

Other snippets...

Since January 1st I have been faithfully logging all of my workouts on Training Peaks and, as the days go by, I enjoy looking at the pretty little pie graphs on the side of the page. I have one that shows the distance I've gone in each sport (relative to each other) and I have another that shows the time spent doing each sport. The distance one doesn't mean much since it doesn't make much sense to compare the distance I swam to the distance I've cycled. It takes me 2 minutes to do a kilometre on the bike, 6:15 to do it running and about 18 minutes in the pool.

Time spent doing each activity is interesting though. It's been an odd few weeks because the extreme cold has forced me to switch a few runs for bike rides on the trainer but, so far, in the month of January, I have spent the exact same amount of time doing each of the three sports I do.

I spent 3:30:00 time swimming (33.3%)
I spent 3:27:30 time running (32.9%)
and I spent 3:32:41 time cycling (33.7%)

As fun and random as those times are, it did get me thinking about time spent doing things.

Example: an Olympic distance triathlon is divided up, for me anyway, this way. The 1500m swim takes just over 30 minutes. The 40k bike ride takes about 90 minutes. The 10k run takes about 70 minutes.

1:3:2.3

Does that mean that if I were training for an Olympic distance triathlon, for every hour I spend in the pool I should spent three hours on the bike and 2.3 hours running?

Not that I would be that strict about it of course, particularly because I train for different events simultaneously (open water races, half marathons and triathlons) but it does bear thinking about.

If nothing else, it's yet another reminder that, except when we're experiencing cold weather alerts, I don't spend nearly enough time on the bike.

A few more snippets:

I had a discussion the other day with a co-worker who is not (I should make this clear) a runner. We talked about running races and how most of them provide finisher's medals. I argued that finisher's medals are really important for a lot of people and that crossing that finish line, no matter how far the race, if often a huge accomplishment for someone. They have had to overcome a lot of physical as well as mental challenges to get to the start and even more to get to the finish. The medal symbolizes this.

He argued that medals are for winners and, in almost every other sport, that is who they are reserved for. In running, he argued, we should all get a t-shirt or a hat or something but only the actual winners should get a medal.

We argued back and forth a few times and I finally had to agree to disagree. I understood what he was saying but I couldn't agree with him. There is something really motivating about getting a medal and I didn't think that should be taken away from people. And I did point out that the winners often get a different medal so they still stand out as winners.

As with most conversations I have, I got me thinking. I have brought home a medal from every running race I've ever done. On the other hand, I have never received a medal for any of the duathlons or triathlons I've done. Doug, on the other hand, often comes home with one because he actually places in his age category. I was bothered the first time I finished a multisport race without getting a medal simply because I was used to getting medals. Now I don't really care but I do know that, if I ever do get one - it will be because I earned my spot on the podium. I can guarantee that it will be my most prized.

Painting 2013 by Number

On Monday I mentioned that I ran 888 kilometres in 2013.

Being a lover of numbers, I decided to look back on the year and see what else I might have tracked.

Turns out that I tracked quite a few things:

I ran 109 times last year. If you subtract the 8 weeks I was off due to injury it means that, during the rest of the year, I ran once every 2.8 days.

I try to run three times per week which, technically, means I run every 2.3 days so I managed to be pretty close to that during most of the year. Yay.

Four months last year I ran over 100km and December was the highest month - topping out at 111km. I figure that was partly due to my lack of swimming and partly due to the fact that I was on vacation and much more inclined to run a few extra kilometres since I had all sorts of free time. The other high months were the ones leading up to half marathons - which makes total sense.

The lowest mileage months were the summer months when I was busy doing triathlons and not putting in the long distance weekend mileage I would typically do. Again, makes sense.

The other number from my running spreadsheet was my weight. I wrote it down on January 1st 2013 and it was 155.5 pounds. I got on the scale on December 31st, 2013 and it read exactly 155.5 pounds. Apparently I'm in my happy place.

This time next year I will have a full twelve months of swims and bike rides logged as well thanks to my number workout log on Training Peaks. That should make for some fun number crunching.

I wrote 236 blog entries in 2013. The words poutine, crazy rabbit and Cabot Trail are the search terms that most often bring people to my blog.

In 2013, diabetes drugs and supplies cost me, my benefit provider and the government a total of $8,036.42. Pump supplies cost $2379.87. I receive $2400 every year from the government to cover those so that worked out nicely. I also spent $1840 to buy Dexter and one month worth of supplies. That entire cost was covered by my work benefits. The remaining prescriptions I needed in 2013 (test strips, insulin, cholesterol meds etc) were covered 80% by my benefits. The total cost for all those was $3816.55 of which I paid $763.31.

I have used four Dexcom sensors so far. The first lasted 14 days. The second lasted 13 days. The third gave me trouble from the start and I gave up after 7 days. The fourth is 7 days old and going strong. They are only supposed to last for 7 days so I'm already two weeks ahead. It will be interesting next year to figure out how much money I spent on sensors...and how much I saved by dragging each one out a few extra days.

I paid $674.16 in race entry fees last year. That was for two half marathons, four triathlons, two open water swim races and Boxing Day ten miler. I have four hats, three shirts and three medals to show for it. I also paid $576.25 for masters swim classes and $710 for running shoes, running clothes and swim supplies (bathing suits, goggles etc). I paid $700 in massage last year - and was reimbursed for $500. I did not track what I spent on chocolate milk, NUUN tablets, GU gels and Clif Builder bars but I'm sure it's close to another $200. That's a lot of money on athletic pursuits.

Interesting when it all gets put together isn't it?

No Longer a Choice

In the fall, winter and spring - running in the morning before work is a treat. First thing in the morning is my favourite time to run. The world is quiet, the streets have more rabbits on them than people and it's just a really wonderful way to start the day.

In the fall, winter and spring, I only run before work when I'm not feeling overly tired. I already get up three mornings a week at 5:30am to swim so doing it an extra time or two can get to be a little much. But, if I eat well, go to bed at a good time and sleep soundly - my treat is an early morning run.

We have now entered the time of the year when early morning runs are no longer a luxury. They are a necessity.

Southern Ontario summers are hot and humid. Breathing through cotton, sweat running down your legs and dripping off the end of your ponytail humid. At the moment, we are in the middle of an official heat wave and the temperature as I write this is 30 degrees Celsius and it feels like 38. The humidity is 62% making it a very dangerous temperature for running.

Some people love to run in the heat. Some people love to lounge in the sun. Some people wait all year for this kind of temperature. I am NOT one of these people (although I do live with one). I was made for East Coast weather. Irish weather. Cold, foggy, windy, wild, changing weather. So, during the Canadian summer, if I want to run, I run before work.

It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted. It doesn't matter if I was up all night with crazy blood sugars or bad dreams. It doesn't matter if I have 13k to run and need to be out the door by 5am. The only thing that matters is that, no matter how bad I feel at 5:30am, I will feel 100 times worse if I wait until after work to run.

Yesterday morning, I set my alarm for 5:30am. I only had 30 minutes to run so it wasn't too ridiculous of a time to get up. We woke up to a temperature that was already 23 degrees and very humid. On top of that there was a really strong wind that sucked whatever breath you did have left as you tried to breathe through the humidity.

I hit the road before 6 and noticed something different almost immediately.

I was not the only one out there. Not by a long shot. And it wasn't rabbits that were keeping me company.

Humans were everywhere. And they were running.

As I ran through the neighbourhoods I counted twenty runners. All were weaving up and down the streets. North south, east west.

Any aliens passing overhead must have looked down and wondered what everyone was doing. Back and forth, up and down, in a weird and wonderfully arbitrary pattern.

I ran into (well not literally) my friend Barb on the way back. We stopped to chat for a moment, both of us dripping wet and gasping. And grateful that we ran as early as we did.

I was home and on the deck stretching by 6:30am. I was overheated but felt great. Not only great but grateful that I knew enough to get up early.

During the fall, winter and spring - running in the morning is glorious.
During the summer - running in the morning is all about getting'er done.

Three Hours Early

Yesterday, I walked out of the office at 4:30pm and was officially on vacation.  Ten days off!

Looming big between the official start of vacation and the psychological start was my 28k run.  Scheduled for Friday morning at 6am, I felt like, once I got that done, I was really on vacation.

We're losing a little bit of sunlight every day so, when I stepped outside at 5:45am, it was still pretty dark.  The sky hadn't even started turning the lovely blue shade it turns just before the sun rises.  I headed out in the dark with only my music to keep me company.  I had a 28k route all mapped out that would take me out of the city and on to the country roads.

It was cool with a slight breeze.  That was my first clue that this was going to be a good run.

The second clue came at 6k when a deer ran out in front of me and stopped to stare.  Apparently they don't see too many runners in these parts.  A second deer joined the first and together they turned and bounded into the woods.

That's when I broke into a broad grin and waved goodbye to them.

I love this!  I love running as the sun is coming up and the fields are hidden in fog.  I ran up Effingham and waved to the horses.  A pony came to check me out and his mother neighed in greeting.  I turned down Wessel and spotted two more deer through the mist.  They lifted their heads and silently watched me run by.  I grinned again.

A white car pulled up and Doug hopped out with water and a smile.  I smiled back and went on about how much I loved running in the morning.  He hung out for a bit but had to head home to get ready to leave at 9am.  That left me alone for the last 12k.

I carried on and watched the sun rise above the trees.

The last 8k were going to be rough because the sun was now up, the fog was gone and the heat was rising.  I ran over the bridge at the bottom of the Gregory Road hill and a heron flew beneath the bridge and right up beside me.  Herons remind me of Grandpa and one always seems to appear when I need something.  Thanks Grandpa!  Armed with that and a little Irish tune playing in my ear, I had all the motivation I needed to bound to the top of the hill.

Seven kilometres left to go.  I found the stash of OJ and water that Doug left for me and topped up.  At 5k, I ran into my friend Roseanne who was out for her run so we ran a few kilometres together before we headed our separate ways.

As I approached the two kilometre mark, I was fading.  That's when Doug, Dan and Tina drove by on their way to Horseshoe Valley.  Lots of honking, waving and shouting gave me that last boost I needed to keep moving towards home.

I turned on to my street with one kilometre to go and I spotted a runner about halfway down the road.  I rarely pass people - ever.  Never mind at 27.5k.  But I kept running and I kept gaining and, with 300m to go, I passed him!

Holy bananas.

What a wonderful morning.

My vacation started three hours earlier than I expected it to.

Crash!

There are several terms for it but I do believe that this picture sums it up beautifully.

I'm not exactly sure if that's what happened yesterday but it may well have been. 

I ran after work for the first time in a month.  I have been doing the early morning thing but the 5am wake up calls were taking their toll  It's been hot in the mornings, let's not kid ourselves, but nowhere near at hot and humid as it is at 5pm.  I had 13k to run.

So I ran at an unfamiliar time and it was really really hot.

There is one other variable to add to this mix.  I'm not sure if it helped or made things worse. 

Yesterday, I tried a salt tablet experiment.  I was told by several very experienced runners that salt tablets help with dehydration, electrolyte balance and swelling.  Someone like me who is a heavy sweater could definitely benefit. 

So I figured I'd try them and figured a weekday 13k run was a better time to try them out than a 28k long run.  You know, just in case...

I took one before heading out the door.  I did not take my usual edisk. 

Fifteen minutes later, I was sweating but not nearly as much as I usually would be by that time.  Even crazier was that, when I squeezed my hands, my fingers weren't swollen.  At. All.

So, as directed, I had my second one at 30 minutes. 

By that time, I was keeping up my pace but really wilting in the heat.  I was drinking as much as I normally do but I felt weaker than I thought I should.  I took a third one (as directed) at 8k.

Feeling weaker by the minute, I stopped and walked.  I hate when I do that and it's been weeks since I've had to.  I cooled off a bit and resumed.  Weakness took over again. 

Could it be my blood sugar?  I ate a package of fruit chews, walked for another minute and started up again. 

Damn it! 

The last four kilometers were rough.  I made it but, if anyone I know had driven by, I would have hopped in their car without a second thought. 

I don't know what happened. 

Option One - I am no longer used to that kind of heat and it did me in.

Option Two - I don't do well with salt tablets.

Option Three - my blood sugar was 6.0 when I got home so it was probably on the low side by the time I ate those carbs.

Option Four - I hit the proverbial wall. 

The good news is that I was not too bothered by the whole experience.  I did not question my running ability.  I did not wonder whether I have the strength to run a marathon. 

I just chalked it up to a bad run and was grateful that it happened on a Tuesday night rather than a long run.  

What did I think of the salt tablets?  I'm not sure yet.  I definitely did not sweat as much as I normally do but I did sweat which is good.  If I hadn't, that would have scared me.  My fingers did not swell at all despite the heat which is a first - that impressed me.  I was thirsty during the run and afterwards but not as much as I normally am. 

But, because the run was a dud, it's hard to know why.  So I'll try them again but not during my 28k run this Friday.  Just in case...

Humbled by Hydration

For me, blogging is about sharing stories, thoughts, adventures and lessons learned in an effort to entertain, enlighten and educate anyone out there who might be interested.

So, in order to save yourselves the trouble of going through this on your own, here are a few lessons learned from Saturday's run. 

Saturday's 22k was looming and the hot humid weather that was hanging around all last week was not showing any signs of letting up.  So I began my preparations on Thursday.  I drank and drank and drank water in an effort to stay as hydrated as possible.  On Friday, I alternated between drinking lots of water and sipping eload because I knew electrolyte balance was also going to be a factor. 

A few of us who decided to start the run at 6am rather than 7 in an effort to beat the heat.

I went to bed early and slept well. 

So far, so good.  I couldn't think of anything else I could do to prepare.  On a whim, I stepped on the scale before breakfast to check my pre-run weight.  167.0 pounds.

On Saturday morning, I went out with three water bottles on my belt instead of two.  I also brought 10 eload tablets with me, in addition to my regular diabetes paraphernalia.  My belt was really heavy but I didn't want to be caught out there unprepared.

It was hot when we started but not awful. 

I drank water regularly.  We had two fabulous support people en the route (Chris and Marge) who seemed to show up exactly when I needed them with ice cold water and a sympathetic smile.  I refilled my bottles often and, by the end of the run had finished at least nine of them (I lost count).  I also had 6 etabs.  

The run was hot and humid.  Thank goodness we went out early.  The first hour was ok, the second hour was really heating up and, by the last five k, I was done.  It was a slow crawl back to the store but I finished the run feeling pretty good - just really really hot. 

22k in 2 hours and 30 minutes.

I finished the run completely soaked.  Much more so than usual. My clothes were dripping wet and I actually wrung them out before getting into the car.  We headed home and, during my stretching routine, I drank a can of coconut water, a large glass of chocolate milk and a large glass of water. 

An hour later, I was ready to shower.  That's when it occurred to me that I had taken in a huge amount of water and other beverages and yet I had absolutely no need to pee.  Nothing. 

I stepped on the scale.  164 pounds. 

I lost three pounds during my run - even though I had had a full breakfast, drank non-stop during the run and had three large drinks when I got home. 

I was starting to feel like this...

I had two more glasses of water, hopped in the shower and then drank some more. 

Folks, the first time I peed was around 3pm.  It looked like apple juice. 

Thankfully, by Sunday morning, my weight was back to normal as was the colour of my urine.  But it took hours of drinking to get it there. 

I spoke with Chris and Janice - two running friends and marathon veterans.  I explained my problem.  They suggested salt tablets.  Apparently, salt tablets help with hydration, they help keep all your electrolytes balanced and Chris, a kindred spirit in the sweaty runner department, said that they make a huge difference for him in this kind of weather.

Anyone out there tried salt tablets?  Any thoughts?

And more importantly, any suggestions for how to stay hydrated in this heat?  I thought I was doing well but apparently still have a lot to learn.

Nature Girl

Every time the seasons change, I always have the same thought:  "I wonder what people who have just arrived in Canada will think of the next season?".

We live in a pretty dynamic country and our seasonal changes are extreme.  Every twelve months, we go through a shocking cycle of change.

Right now, our runs look like this. 

In six months, they will look like this.

I was told once by our running coach: "if it's minus forty or plus forty, we don't run".  That leaves a pretty incredible range in which we do run.  And run we do.

But back to new Canadians for a moment.  When the leaves start to change colour and we pull out our sweaters, I always wonder what people who have never experienced fall will think about the process.  Will they find it beautiful...or sad?  Will they appreciate the sounds of Canada geese honking or be horrified by the shortening days?  Do they have any idea how delicious apple cider and pumpkin pie are?

What about people who arrive in the middle of our winter?  Do they think that it will never end?  Do they believe us when we tell them that the snow will stop falling, the winds will warm, the trees will leaf and the sun will set at 9pm instead of 4:30pm?    And wait until they discover fresh summer strawberries and tomatoes!

Anyone climbing off a plane this week will laugh at the idea of Canada being a land of ice and snow.  Yesterday, according to the Weather Network, we were hotter than Houston, Mumbai and Tel Aviv.

I have a completely different appreciation for our seasons than I did even a few years ago. I used to love winter for the pretty snow, spring for the warm winds and the smell of earth, summer for bbqs and fall for the colours.  Simple things that completely defined a season for me.

I've always been a nature girl - happiest when outside, in the woods chasing moose or on a boat chasing whales.  Nature for me was all about what I could see, hear and smell.

Running has changed all that.  Well, not so much changed as enhanced.  

Now, I notice and respond to every five degree change in temperature.  I notice the changing amount of sunlight in terms of minutes, not hours.  I feel subtle variations in the wind and in the angle of the sun.

Now, I'm in tune with the air, the temperature, the wind, the light.

I love that.  It sounds completely cliché but I feel so much more alive and I feel like I am part of nature rather than an enthusiastic observer.  Winter is no longer cold and dark.  I've learned that there are all sorts of different kinds of cold. And dark. And different kinds of hot.  And windy.  And humid.

They're all wonderful in their own way.  Truly.  Even days like yesterday that cause me to wilt.  They are all part of the Canadian cycle of seasons.

Damn - we are so lucky aren't we?

Peaceful Panting

Day two of the wake up at 5am to beat the heat routine. 

My body is loving it.  I actually woke up a few minutes before the alarm.  Who does that at 5am?

Today's run was only 30 minutes so I took my perfect 30 minute route.  It's a nice big loop with one hill thrown in.  I ran through quiet suburbs and marvelled at all the things that happen at that hour of the day. 

At the beginning of my run, I had a weird feeling of being followed.  By a small red car.  I memorized the license plate (that's what they do on TV non?) before I realized that the frequent stops were simply due to the early morning delivery of the Globe and Mail. 

Yesterday, there seemed to be cardinals everywhere.  This morning - not one.  Perhaps I was in the wrong neighbourhood.  Higher taxes and all that...

I saw a couple sitting on their front porch drinking coffee together.  At 5:30am. 

I saw people arriving at 97.7 HTZ-FM for the 6am shift.

I smelled a skunk and had a brief moment of panic.  I forgot those little guys are out in the early morning.  I actually worked through what I would need to do to cancel today's big meeting should I get sprayed.   Luckily there were no sightings - just a lingering odor in the air.

It's a weird mix of feelings when I run at that time of the day.  My blood is pumping, my breath is laboured and yet I feel an absolute sense of peace at the same time.

Sitting on the porch afterwards, dripping in sweat and waiting for the breeze to cool me off, I stretched my achy legs and sipped my water.  It was still so quiet.

Mornings are nice.

Really nice.

Tomorrow's run is supposed to be hills.  So, as the sun is rising, there will be a lone girl panting and gasping and smiling her way up the hill.

Keeping one eye out for skunks.

And feeling very grateful to be able to get the run in before the temperature hits the predicted 45 degrees with humidity.

Coppertone Baby

Here we go again.

It was a nice while it lasted but the easy week is rapidly fading away and I'm gearing up for round two in the marathon training marathon. 

The next three weeks are going to be tough and they get tougher as they go. A quick glance as my training program (which is posted at my desk to keep me focused) tells me that I'll be running 22, 24 and then 26k over the next three Saturdays.  Hill and speed training on Thursdays. And don't forget the 10k runs on Tuesdays (which go up to 13k in two weeks) and the 30 minute recovery runs on Wednesdays. 

Oh, and cycling on Sundays.

You know what the craziest thing about all this outdoor activity is?

The tan lines.

I am beginning to look downright ridiculous. 

At the moment, I am sporting a very Picasso-like tan that is making it difficult to pick out clothes to wear on non-running days. 

I have a sock tan which looks stunning on the days I wear sandals.  Well, maybe not stunning but certainly shocking.

I have a running shorts tan line which is just the right height to peek out when I wear my non-running shorts. 

I also have a tank top tan line which, if the shoulder straps were spaghetti straps, would probably look ok but they're several inches thick so it looks ridiculous if I try to wear any top that has a remotely low neckline.

I'm dreading the day that someone invites me for a swim.  Put me in a bathing suit and I'll make the front page of the Enquirer.  'Girl with strange skin pigmentation disorder spotted in St. Catharines'

A few short weeks ago, I looked just like the computer programmer. Now, I look like the roller blader minus the elbow and knee pad lines.

Over 100km of running in the next three weeks.  That means over 100 hours of running outside.

Can't wait to see how crazy I look by the end of the summer.

All this from the girl who can go to Mexico for a week and come back with nary a tan line. I'm not a sun-lover by nature and I typically avoid it when I can.  I prefer the foggy, misty, wild rainy weather of the East Coast or of Scotland.  But a runner does what a runner needs to do so I run in all weathers.  This is the darkest I've been in years...

...and it's only July.
 

Salt Licks and Oblivious Caterpillars

Milo lives next door.  He's a cute, mid-sized dog that I'm going to call a mutt because I don't know enough to recognize whether or not he's a specific breed. 

He's light brown.  Does that help?? 

Milo is cute and full of energy but he tends to limit our interactions to him barking at me as I wave to him.  We are acquaintances at best.

Yesterday, our relationship was taken to a whole new level. When I came home from my run, he was sitting on the front porch.  He ran over, barked and then proceeded to lick my legs with complete abandon. 

Summer running makes for tasty runners apparently.

After an hour in the humidity I was one big salty snack and he was more than happy to put aside our differences to take advantage.  I'm thinking he had some pretty nice dreams last night about the 5'9" potato chip that walking into his life.

I've decided to embrace the sweat.

Last summer, and the summer before that, I was training for half marathons.  Half marathon training still involves a lot of running but it's a little more forgiving.  If I missed a run...or a week of running...I could catch up again.  So I'd skip runs or cut them short when it was really hot.  I tolerated the heat and humidity but just barely.

This summer, I'm trying a different approach.  I need to find the positives in order to not want to throw in the towel every time it feels too humid. I'm going to embrace the heat.  Luxuriate in it.  Be proud of the fact that my clothes are soaked through and that sweat is running down into my shoes as I run.  This is my first summer running with long hair and it's shocking how quickly it can become a dripping mass of salt water. 

I'm just going with it.

Apparently we can get used to anything.  Run enough in the heat and humidity and it begins to feel less oppressive.  So here goes nothing. 

On a completely unrelated note, I did my 90 second plank again last night.  I'm proud to announce that the first thirty seconds went very well and I was feeling much stronger.  Things quickly deteriorated from there and I was a shaking mess by about 50 seconds.  Still, I'm sure it's getting better.

And I almost killed a caterpillar.  The little fluorescent green guy dropped from the tree above onto my mat just as I started my plank.  I watched in horror as he inched his way down the mat, directly under my stomach.  I still do not end planks gracefully.  I collapse in a heap.  He had about 15 shaky seconds to move or there were going to be serious problems for the caterpillar. 

He didn't move. 

I collapsed into a very ungraceful sweaty heap but managed to at least collapse off to the side a bit.  He's still alive and probably telling all his friends and family about the crazy adventure he had on the mysterious purple mat with the floating pink lady.

Hot Stuff

There's just no way around it.

I am one hot chick.

Bedroom window open all winter, comforter tossed to the side, running in -20 without gloves kinda hot.

My internal microwave oven makes me ideally suited to running in Canadian winters.  I love it.  Better yet, I have it all figured out. I know what to wear with every five degree change in temperature and in every sort of wind chill, snow, and icy condition.  I know my layers and we work well together. 

The problems start when the temperate gets to be above zero. 

At plus five, I'm in shorts.  At plus ten, I'm in shorts, a t-shirt and a vest and, by plus fifteen, I'm in shorts and a t-shirt.  Period. 

Things would not be a problem if Canadian summers peaked at plus fifteen.  But they don't.  They have been known to hit plus thirty-five with some nasty-ass humidity thrown in for fun.  This does not stop us from running hours every Saturday morning or doing hill repeats or interval training.  The heat-loving people in my life may disagree but I find it absolutely brutal.

I am not one to run around in my sports bra (between my insulin pump and surgery scars - a bare midriff would take me a wee bit too far out of my comfort zone).  So I'm stuck running in shorts and a t-shirt.  No matter how hot it gets, there are just no more layers to remove. 

I'm excited for spring.  I'm excited to see the buds on the trees and feel the sun on my skin.  But I'm also well aware that the days of running in comfort are rapidly coming to an end...at least until October when things start to cool off again.  So for the next six months I am going to be one hot steamy lady... 

...and not in a good way!