Swimming after silence

Swimming is one of those simple pleasures in life. Since becoming a runner earlier this winter I have been waiting for that moment when running feels just as natural and relaxing as swimming. I hope that one day I will be able to duplicate that feeling.

Living on the east coast of Canada, it is extremely difficult to avoid being near a body of water. Luckily, my parents recognized how important swimming would be in a province full of lakes and surrounded by ocean. From an early age I was in swimming lessons, followed by synchronized swimming and then eventually lifeguarding, teaching and coaching. Honestly, making swimming a priority was such an important choice. Through swimming I not only stayed active, but found a job, found volunteer opportunities, made lifelong friends and created amazing memories. Swimming is also an escape for me, and each year as summer approaches I anxiously await the moment when I either don my wetsuit or my bathing suit and take my first plunge into the water. There have been many a party-goer who has jumped at the sight of a wetsuit hanging on the back of my bathroom door.


Medford Beach, Nova Scotia

This year it was a little later than expected, June 21, but it did not disappoint. Each summer I spend as much time as humanly possible in the lake, a little less this year due to the injuries. I swim occasionally throughout the winter, normally when my back is bothering me or to prepare for summer swimming. However, nothing compares to swimming outside. My way to achieve serenity is to drive to the lake early in the morning when no one is there and go for a swim. At that hour the water is pristine. It is so calm there is barely a ripple. It is so quiet that the only sound is the slight splash your body creates as you glide through the water.



Early morning silence at the lake

Swimming is one of the gentlest forms of exercise on your body. It is low impact and serves as an ideal option for runners who are trying to crosstrain. If you are injured you should seriously consider going for a swim, especially if you have back or neck problems. This is one of the first things I do when I have an injury as it helps to promote healing.



Working at a lake each summer throughout high school and most of university completely spoiled me. I spent hours and hours each week in the water, and since starting my career I have been chasing after every spare moment to spend time swimming. I have become jaded though, I am forced to swim after work amidst all the young bucks and screaming children. I love children and have nothing against young adults, but, they cramp my style out in that lake. I want to swim in silence. I am selfish; I want the whole lake to myself, and call me crazy, I do not want to worry about a hooligan stealing my towel and car keys!



Chocolate Lake, Nova Scotia





What a pain in the ... bursa?

In recent weeks I have come to regard my 10k race as achievable, it is still extremely daunting, but I have acknowledged that I will be able to accomplish this.  A week or so ago I was able to fulfil my training requirements, exceed my own expectations, push through some plateaus and then bring my triumph to a screeching halt.  After two rest days it began to dawn on me that the pain I had been feeling was not, in fact, “the burn” that I attribute to exercising.  Instead, it is the pain of a premature geriatric.  You have all seen it, the hip swagger that is more of a stagger, the tentative shuffle, and … the waddle.  I injured my hip, and as a result, I no longer have the graceful run of a gazelle; I am full-on penguin.  It appears as though I have a case of bursitis, so I have been icing, stretching, and pill popping for over a week.  I can put in a valiant effort on a decent walk and I can suffer through some yoga, but I cannot run.  Yesterday I plunged into the pool for a long-overdue swim with the vain hope that it would help to calm things down, but, alas, it was not to be.  My 3.3k walk home probably did not help, and I am now wondering if the 60 flights of stairs I heaved myself up today were a bad idea.  So, as I write this I am covered in ice with pain pulsing from areas I did not know existed.  I believe this is where I make my bi-monthly emergency phone call to both my chiropractor and my massage therapist.  Every time I see my massage therapist she says “what did you do this time” and then “how did you manage to do that”.  I really have no idea.  She says I am overzealous, I say that I am trying not to wimp out; her recommendation is to strive to be about a notch below wimp so I can save myself some money.  Whenever I take up a new activity some sort of injury follows:

• pole dancing = lower back issues and bruised rib;
• running = shin splints and bursitis,
• ballroom dancing = stuck neck;
• yoga = muscle spasms;
• strawberry picking = muscle spasms in low back; and
• skiing = rotator cuff. 

Following all of these injuries my husband comes up with a new term of endearment for my injured body part, all of which appear to come from the menu at McDonald’s and/or KFC:  McRib, Chicken Wing (rotator cuff), Hoof (foot), and Drumstick (hip).  In conclusion, if you notice a lack of running-related commentary, it means I really did it this time; I finally injured my Biggie Fry. 

Turning over a new leaf...

Today I took my lazy self out for a run.  It was not a great run, total distance was 3.97 km.  Total running distance was likely 2.8 – 3.0 km.  

It was all I could do to push myself to run as much as I did.  I think my body is punishing me for not training as much as I should have, and my body is right, I do deserve it.  I was physically capable of running at any point in time but was too lazy to drag myself out there.  Given these facts, I think this week will be rather painful as I try to get myself back to my regular running self.  I am trying to turn over a new leaf in an effort to be more motivated.  This will encompass actually getting things done and doing my scheduled runs and workouts, which will definitely include one session at the pool.  I will not be hitting the pool more than once a week as I am allergic to chlorine, so until I can determine whether or not my skin is going to react badly I will keep it to a minimum.  I want to start pool training so that my endurance is back to normal in time to start swimming in the lake as soon as it is warm enough. 

Aside from the disappointing performance today, I did partially enjoy the run.  I ran in Point Pleasant Park in Halifax, which was really nice for a change.  I am used to running on pavement, so running on crushed gravel and trails was a welcome change.  It is amazing how much lower impact it was!  As it is Easter Monday, there were many people out with their dogs, their children and there were a ton of runners out there.  

The squirrels were out in full force!

Halifax Harbour...

Part of the Cambridge Battery in the park.

 

The other great thing about the run was that I did not feel rushed.  I did not have to work because of the holiday, so I dropped my husband off for his shift and then hit the trails.  Now I am finishing this post and slowly getting ready for another wedding I have to perform this evening.  It appears as though wedding season has officially begun!

In terms of the IBS, I felt that familiar urge during the run but worked through it enough to do a bit more before I really felt like I might keel over from exhaustion.  I did go to the park prepared with extra Kleenex in hand in case I had to use the facilities.  I was, however, hell-bent on not using the washroom as many of the “washrooms” are actually outhouses, and quite honestly, I am a bit too prissy for that.  I can safely say, though, that I have noticed steady progress since I began running.   It is very rare that I actually stop my run to use the washroom; normally I can run through it long enough to complete my target distance.  I attribute this to the extensive amount of planning that goes into a run.  I plan my meals around the run in terms of what I eat and how far in advance I can eat it.  This is part of the reason why I do evening runs, and unfortunately, why I eat so late at night.  I cannot eat any less than 1.5 hours before a run, otherwise, I will not have enough time to digest and use the washroom before I go.  But, all of this planning is definitely better than the alternative, Princess Poopy Pants?  No thank you!

No regrets

I just got back from a very rewarding run, we exceeded our own expectations and I think we managed to push ourselves more than we have in the past.  I certainly was not expecting tonight’s run to be overly successful – we had an extremely poor performance yesterday, we lasted only about 3:40.  Unfortunately, you read that right.  What was supposed to be a run turned into a walk, and we have chalked it up to being a case of the Sundays.  We have such a poor performance record for Sunday runs that we have sworn off any future Sunday training days, it just never ends well. 

Today at work, when lunch rolled around I decided to avoid the cold weather by doing some stairs in my office tower.  After several weeks of running I expected myself to be half decent, but, boy, was I surprised.  It was a staggeringly awful performance.  I only managed to complete 2 x 8 up and 2 x 8 down, for a total of 32 flights. I started off rather ambitiously trying to at least jog up the stairs, but after only two sets of stairs I thought I might just tumble backwards to my death.  With that, I walked the rest of the way.  I found it so difficult that I had to run back to my desk for a water bottle after the first set.  Then, I repeated it all again, and as my jello-legs carried me back down to my floor, I decided I had had enough.  This is the truly shocking part – all of this only took about 4:30.  How embarrassing.  So, as I headed back to my desk, beet red, I grabbed my yoga mat and an empty office and stretched out.  Never before have I seen my legs shake that much doing a down dog or a sun salutation.  Today’s lesson: I must do more stair training.  Never have I been so fearful of meeting someone in a stairwell, I must do better, if only to repair my bruised ego. 

Given my lunch-time experiment, you can see why I was not looking forward to the run, the stairs had taken the wind out of my sails, or at the very least, out of my lungs, and I did not relish the thought of moving in a way that resembled speedy, if at all.  My husband called to check in while he was at work; I told him I was going for a run, but that I did not want to go, that I thought I would only be able to last about two minutes.  He very wisely told me that I should go, because at no point in time will I regret going for a run.  As much as I hate to admit it when he is right, he was right.  And now I have it permanently recorded in the black hole that is the internet…   So, with this advice in mind, I met up with my running partner and we decided to try something new – just run and see what happened and how long we lasted.  What a brainwave!  The first round we lasted approximately 11:24, followed by a bathroom interlude where he so kindly wandered around the neighbourhood until I could rejoin him.  For round two I believe we lasted an impressive 13:43, followed by no bathroom break!  We capped it off with one last kick at the can and clocked in at 9:25.  So we were pretty close to our six sets of six, and we covered somewhere in the region of 5-6k. It was much more enjoyable because we weren’t waiting longingly for the sound we covet so much – the alarm ringing in break-time.  I was anticipating an extremely cold temperature given the windchill, but it was actually quite nice, so much so that my visit to the bathroom provided the perfect opportunity to shed both my gloves and my scarf.  It even started to snow and lightly coat the ground, it looked almost magical.  So, there you have it, I do not in any way regret the run, and my husband was right for the first time in our marriage.  

Here is a shot from our Sunday run...

It appears as though there might be an issue in this area of the city.

You can barely tell, but it is just starting to snow.

I felt exactly like this shopping cart by the end of our excursion.