works of wanderlust

Tag: swimming laps

  • head over feets, ten

    Autumn is probably my favourite season. The colours. The full nights sleep thanks to the sun setting at a normal time and the temperatures being cooler. The abundance of excuses to settle into a cozy quiet evening without feeling excessively guilty about squandering the summer.

    My running streak is over, which is a shame only because some people had just found out I was doing one and were congrats me on the effort… which I had to explain I had finished it and was happy with the foundation it gave me to ramp up towards my race and thanks anyways.

    But since I’m not running every day anymore, I had to focus on the quality of runs and not just the quantity, huh? That means starting the short but important build up to a confident ten miler distance.

    This last couple weeks I…

    Wednesday was just on the verge of too warm, but there was enough of a breeze that joining up with the Run Club for about six klicks in the evening was definitely a win. We ran a big suburban lap, complete with some unexpected elevation change in the neighbourhood. It had only been a couple days of rest, but it was my first post-streak run.

    I was having a bit of a recovery week so I didn’t get back out on the trails again until Sunday. It was our long run day, of course, and now that we’re officially “training” we cranked up our distance incrementally over the last weeks. I led the group on a 12km route into the autumn-toned creek valley and we tackled a few hills in the process.

    With Autumn arriving and the Kid’s birthday eating up a couple days worth of free time, I didn’t manage much for a couple days. But after some blood work on Wednesday morning I threw caution to the wind (rest your needle arm for two hours, they said) and drove to yet another new pool. I swam five hundred and some meters in Confederation pool, and tried out my new headphones underwater too.

    Our first run of Autumn happened a few hours later. I have other commitments (read: Japanese class) on Wednesday nights upcoming somy participation in future Run Club runs is up for debate. But I took advantage of this night off to join a trail-ish sunset run for nearly seven klicks in the chilly September air.

    Thursday, meeting again locally for a run from the local pub (for drinks after) we had to search out an alternative route to avoid following the same path we’d now taken two runs in a row previous. A bit of improvisation resulted in nearly seven klicks of suburban adventure… and then a beer and cheesecake. Running is so unhealthy these days. *sigh

    Sunday was another long run. The race is only about a month away at this point which means that I’ve been ramping up my distance for a couple weeks. The plan was to do fourteen klicks, but the plan was off a bit so we did an unplanned fifteen klicks. That’s alright, tho. Knowing we can do the distance is often as valuable as actually just doing it. And fourteen is better than fifteen.

  • pool blues

    Fate has kicked me in the gut once again.

    At the risk of evoking a critical level of pity and having that backfire at me in the second paragraph of this essay, I’m going to mention a sad little easily-solved problem that unfortunately knocked me low again this week: they are closing the pool where I’ve been swimming for “three months of critical maintenance.”

    “They aren’t doing it to you personally!” My wife rolled her eyes at me when I showed her the notice.

    “Maybe not, but the universe seems to have it in for me lately.” I replied.

    I’ve been a swimmer for years, but after a year-long hiatus I broke down and spent money on an annual pass to the local pool with the intention of getting back into my routine. I just bought the pass three weeks ago. According to the email, in a mere week’s time the pool will be closing for three whole months. The next nearest pool is a twenty minute drive from my house, and the activation energy that gets me from prone on the couch to jumping into a swim lane with my goggles strapped over my face does not seem strong enough to include a commute. One more barrier, my brain is telling me. One more kick in the gut by my friend fate. 

    Sigh. 

    I’m whining. I know that. But damned if the universe doesn’t seem like it’s decided to pick on me personally as of late. Objectively speaking millions of people might have it orders of magnitude worse, but personal struggle is both subjective and relative isn’t it?

    I was told that when I set out to make a life change, to upend everything I had built over the years in my career—in search of something more interesting, more satisfying, more purposeful—that by the end of it I would have experienced a range of emotions from high to low, buffeted by self-doubt, refined in crystal clarity, and everything in between all at once. I shrugged off the notion, not because I didn’t believe the prediction but because I figured I could roll with it, whatever came my way, all of it. 

    A voyage across an ocean without a map is an apt metaphor. Each day at sea is a little different—maybe closer to shore, maybe not. A storm may roil one day or the sun may beat down on another. Little things make all the difference in the world, and having my swimming pool closed for a few months felt like a man adrift at sea who had just watched his favourite hat fly into the yonder on a gust of wind. No the wind didn’t do it to him personally, but it is tough not to feel that way—for a little bit. 

  • head over feets, three

    As we pass through mid-July it has been a mix of rain and smoke and heat. I can’t complain too much because, as I noted to one of my fellow runners, the trails are lush and green and lovely right now—and we’re already starting to realize that the fall and winter are just a few short months away.

    Summer also means that a lot of people are coming and going, and without a proper race that we’re all training for attendance is scattered for our group activities. I’ve been trying to supplement by making good use of my rec centre pass, though, and also finally motivated myself to tune up the bike for the season, even tho the season is almost half over.

    So it goes and recently I added to my fitness by…

    I did a huge cycling lap around the neighbourhood shortly after posting my last update—as in I literally posted and packed up my keyboard and left the cafe via my bike. Later that day I met Ron for a short five klick run, logging a few hills and then some more distance on the flat. This meant that over the morning and by early afternoon I had swam, ridden, and run in that order and for roughly the distance of a sprint triathlon.  Not bad for a random Tuesday.

    By Thursday, and after a very busy Wednesday, I found myself back in the pool first thing in the morning. I had delayed slightly in leave the house tho, and the lanes were packed—three to a lane in most cases—and I realized that lane availabity is probably my biggest anxiety about resuming my pool activities. You may go there and have a whole lane to yourself, or you may be stuck in a lane with a couple of slow flutterboard dudes or forced to share a lane with someone passing you every other lap because they are training for the olympic gold or something. I never have to worry about space running because there’s thousands of klicks of trails in the city, but just eight lanes in the local pool.

    That same evening I had a solid run with the regular Thursday crew meetup. We dashed through the Mill Creek trails and I logged a six klick run that felt better than most anything I’ve run in the last month. Good news, perhaps.

    Friday and Saturday were pretty chill, but Sunday morning despite threats of rain the crew met up for the regular weekend run and coffee.  We logged an easy eight klicks (mostly because a few people were recovering from their ultras last weekend) and then parked for some java in the rec centre.

    I capped off my weekend with a lot of laps at the pool. Sundays are generally a free community day, so until exactly 7pm when they kick out the masses the pool is too crowded to do much of anything. But by ten after seven, the lanes are all but abandoned and I had a lane almost entirely to myself for long enough to increase my distance again. I logged one thousand meters, or twenty full laps, bringing my return to swimming back up into to more real distances for the first time in years.

  • head over feets, one

    I used to write a whole blog about running and fitness. And then? Well. It was one of the only things that was lost that I truly cared about in the hack that took down my little private server—back a couple years ago. Ten years of rambling journals about races and training and side-fitness projects. It was not something that anyone but I read, but I did go back and peruse it on occasion.

    I miss that, and it’s hard to just start over from scratch with something that big.

    But…

    Starting in July I’ve decided to get back into the fitness groove. I haven’t fallen completely off the truck, but I haven’t ben focused. And that is in itself a multidimesional effort of motivation, accountability and grit. To that end, I am going to do what I always do when I start getting serious about my personal fitness, and write about it. But no stand-alone website for now: the format that is really working for me these days is the quippy list of short-form reflections, tucked away in the files of this blog.

    That said, so far this month I have:

    Logged a Canada Day run with the crew.  We used to more frequently do this thing where on any stat holiday (usually Mondays) we would meet at the local breakfast joint, trot out a five klick run, and then go for a long breakfast. July first is not only a stat holiday but kind of a second mid-year new years resolution day, so a good day to start off on the right foot, even if it ended with a side of bacon.

    A few days later I logged a solo seven klick run in the rain. For a dozen reasons no one else showed for runday sunday, and those that did ran inside (for injuries reasons) or on their own outside (for pace reasons) so I went off by myself into the drizzly neighbourhood and got a short lap done.. and done.  It was nothing particularly special, but it would have been just as easy to go for coffee and skip the run when no one is there to breath down your neck about it. Grit.

    Yesterday I cracked and bought a pass to the rec centre. Back when I worked for the municipal government, the half-price annual pass was a deal and then some. Now, still paying a slightly discounted rate (‘cause Karin gets a deal through work after all) was a slightly tougher pill to swallow. But excuses be damned and effective last evening I have a year of access to the pool and the gym.  I celebrated with a sixteen klick ride on the stationary bike.

    This morning I was feeling ambitious, new pass in hand, but cautious. I haven’t swam laps in over two years. Seriously, I looked it up. March 2023 was my last time in a pool. I used to be damn near religious about it and even did a triathlon a few years ago.  So I suited up at quarter after seven with the ranks of all the senior swimmers and did a ten lap re-introduction to a sport I once moderately rocked. First time back in two years I didn’t want to push it. Ten laps was enough to feel it, but not enough to burn me out for another two years. I’ll be back soon enough for a little longer next time.

    In the meantime, I went right back to one of my old fitness hacks: the trusty spreadsheet. Strava and those other apps are all great for social cred and light accountability in the fitness jam, but nothing beats a good old fashioned fitness ledger to see the numbers laid out on a grid.  That, and I’m still in a bit of a value mindset having just dropped a lot of money on an annual pass and I want to see if it is worth it—though I suppose “worth it” is a subjective thing and getting out and moving is a tough thing to quantify. For the next year I’ll play fitness accountant in my spreadsheet, tho, and see how it all adds up.

    Now? Off to buy some batteries for the scale. Eep!