Winter is not going to beat me.
Last day of November, Mt. Royal beckoned for hill training. When I arrived, I was greeted by refrozen snow, slick and almost impossible to run up. Much courage was required for the return trip down. Yet so many Quebeckers were taking it in stride. Was I soft? The No 2 ranked Ontario master’s marathoner said not.
So I bought a pair of Yak Trax and did it again on the first day of December. It was minus 15C, yet winter was not getting the better of me. I eclipsed 5:00/k going up then absolutely smoked the ride down. A satisfying training run indeed. Take that, Winter! Or should I say Autumn? Winter was still three weeks away!
Back in Pickering, Winter has also arrived early. I manage to get dressed right. Usually I am so afraid of getting cold that I pull on one too many layers and burn up. Then, as I turn into a stiff chilly west wind, absolutely EVERYTHING starts to freeze. I have no choice but to pull off a mitten and stuff it down the front of my pants. Back home, I pull off my shoes to find my toes had been digging into each other, a bloody mess that I never felt. Next time, there will be duct tape on my shoes. Winter is not getting the better of me. Oh, Winter is still two weeks away!
Then Winter drops some cold snow onto the roads. No problem, the plows and salters can handle that. But Pickering is not plowing, and the salter drops just the lightest sprinkle of salt down the centre of the road. The snow on the side of the road softens but does not melt. It is sticky and slippery. I spin my wheels in it. It clings to my backside. I have given this greasy crud a name: slush!t. It is the bane of running in Winter.
So I run down the tire tracks cleared by the cars. I dodge into the slush!t when cars approach. And in Pickering, they come at you by the dozen. If I am really lucky, some cars will shift out of the tracks and send a tidal wave of slush my way. Bliss.
Yet I can run up north into Farmville. There I find a lonely perfectly salted concession. Perfect running, at long last. Just mind the coyotes. That is my tax dollars up there, hard at work.
So it snows 15 cm on my long run day. No problems, off to the gym for a treadmill instead. Somehow, treadmills don’t agree with my mechanics. My feet were killing me and I was bored to tears staring into an empty swimming pool. 30 minutes left. I gritted my teeth and finished. But next time, I decide I will choose the slush!t.
I could try running on the sidewalks. But many properties sheet drain over the sidewalk. This is great for nine months of the year, the other three we slide. Most neighbors do right and shovel the snow off the walks… right onto the road to create more slush!t. It seems I am fighting a losing battle. Winter will soon take the roads from me. How anyone can train for Boston and arrive in race shape is beyond me.
This is my second crack writing this article. I originally finished by writing that Winter could bite me, if the coyotes don’t get me first. Then Winter oblidged by taking out our power and leaving a mess of downed trees everywhere. Running has become a fresh new hell. I could curse Winter, but then it reveals its horrible beauty. Enjoy the picture. I erased the original text trying to post it (and I blame that on Winter).
Just like the trees that survived, I must bend but not break. Boston is coming. Winter will not win.
