The roadtrip has begun

Mat and I packed up the car and drove from Montreal to Ottawa to pick up the puppy, who was hanging out at his sister's.

Even though the drive was short, it was fun, choosing the old highway that twists around the water.

Today, we start the big drive, heading to Harlem, New York for the night.

Where is home, when your heart is all over the place?

My sister called early yesterday morning. Well, it was 8:00 a.m., but still, it felt early. "I'm sorry", she said. "I didn't realize what time it was there". I told her it was okay, I would call her back in a bit, once I had a chance to fully wake up.

When I called her a half hour later, it turned out she was at my parents cottage-turned house, with a lot of commotion in the background. Cousins and friends and babies were all there, having a fun, impromptu family BBQ, the day after our cousin's wedding. I talked to my sister, to my parents, to cousins who I hadn't spoken with in a long time. I hung up the phone feeling a bit funny, but shook it off and went about the rest of my day.

Later that night, as I was trying to go to sleep, I couldn't get over how sad I felt that they were all having fun without me, that I was missing out on everything. I had already spoken to my family about how I wouldn't be making it for the wedding, since I have my sister's wedding to go to next month. And I love living here and know that I wouldn't be happy living there. But I still cried myself to sleep last night. And I still haven't been able to shake that funny feeling...

Lessons from running

On June 4th, I ran the Whistler Half Marathon. It was the first race I had run in over five years. And two weeks later, I ran the Johnny Miles 10k with my Dad. Or rather, we started together and he was waiting, cheering me on, at the finish line.

I've also been listening to Neil Firore's audiobook, "The Now Habit". At one point, he talks about how his clients have taken huge learnings from their athletic endeavours, and then been able to apply what they have learned to the rest of their lives. So far, I've learned two big lessons.

Number 1 - Goal setting

In January, when I decided to sign up for the half, my goal was to finish the race. All through my eight weeks of training (because I procrastinated and didn't start training until March), I had the same goal. Based on my progress, I figured it would take me 2 1/2 hours. And then two days before the event, with no time left to train, I decided to change the goal. Now I wanted to finish in 2 hours. Just like that. And you know how long it took me? Two hours and 29 minutes. Lesson learned? Goals need to be realistic and attainable.

Number 2 - People can change

As you can probably tell from my half marathon time, I am a slow runner. Seriously slow. My sister looked at my race photos & said I looked like a speed walker. All through my training for the half, I ran painfully slow, with everyone else on the trail zipping by me. "It's okay", I would tell myself. "You're just a slow runner."

And then, two days after the half, I flew to Nova Scotia to visit with my family, already signed up for the 10k. With two weeks to train, and a previous 10k race time of 1:10, I decided that I could change. I could be a faster runner. I could run in under an hour. So I actually did two speed training sessions, one each week. I still went for slow 5k runs, but they were faster than I was used to. And on the day of the race, on the hottest and muggiest day I had experienced in all of 2011, I ran the first 5k in 29 minutes and the whole 10k in 1:03. No, I didn't break an hour. But I came close. And more importantly, I changed.

So lesson learned? Change is possible. I can be faster, stronger, fitter. But I can also change in other areas of my life. I can also be louder, bolder, fiercer. For the first time ever, I look forward to change.

A half marathon is a long way to run

Tomorrow is the day. Half marathon starting at 7:30 a.m., 21.1 km. I'm not sure if I've trained enough, followed my running schedule closely enough. Hell, who am I kidding, if I had been following a recipe for chocolate cake, I would now be eating blueberry muffins.

My last run was a week and a half ago, and I ran 19 km. Physically, it was kind of tough, but the hardest part was the conversation in my head:

"Alright, here we go again. Nineteen kilometres. Huh. Really? That's going to take at least 2 hours. This is going to be boor-ing."

"If I make it all the way up Blueberry Hill, it will mean that I will actually be able to finish the half on race day. Wait, what if I get tired and have to stop on the way up this hill? Does that mean I'm going to fail? Yes."

"Okay. If I make it to the little path before Boston Pizza, I'll be done and I can stop running. Wait, I just stopped. And I'm not there yet. Arrgh."

Lazy rainy days

Sometimes the best of plans go awry in the nicest of ways. Like today. I had planned to wake up early and complete an entire to-do-list worth of errands and tasks. Instead, I slept until 10, spent all morning in my pj's, and haven't done any exercise other than sprint from the car to Purebread Whistler to buy cheese bread and a sinfully delicious chocolate brownie.

But sometimes it's just so nice to wrap myself in a cozy blanket and curl up on the couch watching movies and bad daytime TV, safe and dry, away from the pouring rain outside.

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I've been searching for something lately, unsure what it is I'm missing. Time spent Googling vacation spots, both far off and close by, books checked out from the library with the promise of changing my life, visits with friends for the purpose of keeping my goals and aspirations in line. Finally I just booked an overdue trip home to Nova Scotia. And now my dreams are full of visions of the ocean, of familiar places and sounds, of family who see each other more often than I speak to them over the phone.

Sometimes the hardest part is clicking 'submit'

At the beginning of this year, I decided that I needed a new focus for 2011. So I attended a goal setting seminar hosted by Kathy Goddard of Lighthouse Visionary Strategies (it was an amazing experience - I'll be going next year, and you should too). I set goals for all areas of my life, including physical, emotional, career, financial, etc. And then we had to write a letter to our future selves, dated December 2011, talking about how great it will be to have achieved all of our goals. When I got home, I placed the sealed envelope in the drawer of my night-side table and pushed it out of my mind.

Until 7pm on March 31st. Then the envelope was all that I could think about. Under the physical health section, I had decided, in January, to sign up for the Whistler Half Marathon. And three months later, on the eve of the last day of the early-bird registration price, I sat in front of my computer, registration form already filled out, mouse hovering over the 'submit' button.

Could I really run 21.1 km? The longest I had ever run before was 10km and that was years ago. I'm 30 now, for goodness sake. But really. This was my first real goal of the year. No way I could let myself off the hook that easily. So I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and clicked the button. There. That wasn't so hard. Now I just had to figure out how to run longer than I had ever run before without passing out halfway through and having to call someone for a ride home.

I can hear spring coming

I took O for a cross country ski last week, maybe our last for the season. It was early morning and no one else was around. The snow was hard, frozen over from the afternoon freeze the day before. Still, I went as fast as I could, slowing down every so often when the track disappeared. Finally, we reached Rainbow Park and I stopped to take off my skis and run around with O for a little break.

It was a beautiful morning, with the sun not quite rising over the mountains on the left and the ski hill on the right empty of skiers. And for the first time all season, I was not surrounded by silence. Instead, I could hear birds chirping, water running, spring coming at last.
Photo credits: me

Setting Them Up for Success - Make Plans for Humping Time

This winter, I bought a whole classic ski setup so that O and I can have something to do outside together besides walking (boring for him) and going to the dog park (boring for me). We started off slowly, because it took me a few times to get the hang of it and stop falling on my ass every ten minutes. And there was a particularly bad outing where O just plain ran away and spent the whole afternoon playing outside of our old house. while I skied back to the car and drove home alone, calling the muni on the way to once again report my missing dog.

But gradually we got the hang of it and I started to enjoy these short 3km skis together. And then my parents came to visit for a week. My dad is allergic to dogs and neither he nor my mom are big dog kind of people (O weighs 70 lbs; their dog weighs 10 lbs), so I pretty much ignored O for an entire week.

After a fantastic visit, my parents left and I attempted to get back into my normal routine. I took O for a ski. And it was awful. Terrible. Not fun at all. He charged at people, ran way ahead of me, and adopted a group of 20-somethings as his new family, playing with them on the frozen lake and ignoring me completely as I called after him and waved treats in the air, to no avail. I put on his leash and slowly wiggled my skis along the track, all the while cursing O and feeling frustrated and angry.

And then it dawned on me - I wasn't setting him up for success. I was simply expecting him to be good and then getting mad when he wasn't. And the solution? So simple! Now I take him to the dog park first, let him run off all his craziness and hump other dogs, and then we head out for a ski together. We've been three times since my 'ah-ha' moment and every time has been great. Now he trots along beside me like a well-behaved dog and plays with me on the lake instead of running after other people. And all it took was some well-planned humping time.