Tag Archives: passion

Poetry Friday: The smells of the day

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The Smells of the Day

Asparagus a day later.
Quiet desperation on a young techie at a networking event.
Familiar aftershave on a stranger at Burrard and Pender.

This pavement offers no fucking consolation. I’ve been walking, even running, for years and I still turn around and smack into a grotesque mirror of myself.grotesque statue

I didn’t really want him anyway did I?
That’s what I say to myself.

Really – I’m as kinky as the next person – well more – let’s be honest
but he took fetish to a whole new level for me
it was exhausting
I just couldn’t live up to it.

I notice he calls her the same nickname he called me –
It’s generic. Like he needed some handy pocket moniker
just in case he was thinking of someone else when he was talking to me…

like he’d used it a thousand times before…

and a thousand times since.

——

Photo by Pierre Pouliquin used under Creative Commons license.

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It’s not about me this year

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Well, sorta kinda it is about me, but it’s really not.

I’ve signed up to be a volunteer pace group leader at a Frontrunners marathon running clinic, starting January 12 and leading up to the 40th BMO Vancouver Marathon May 1, 2011.

I already know from leading indoor spin-type classes at the YMCA that it’s not about me so much as the participants. Certainly it’s a good way to keep on track with my own fitness and to get in the training to complete the race, but at a certain point a fitness leader has to put aside her own goals and tune in to the needs of the group members.

  • You have to show up even when you don’t feel like going that day.
  • You have to know where the heck your run route is, because you’re out in front.
  • You’re out there for 2, 2.5, 3, 3.5 hours, you better make that route interesting, preferably a loop that is do-able in the time frame allowed.
  • You have to adjust on the fly, make sure everyone gets back to the start line, sweep the stragglers if someone’s having a bad day, and be prepared for anything.

As our clinic leader put it this morning, if you’re hell bent on getting a Personal Best this time, don’t be a run leader, be a participant. Runners will sense a pressure to perform, and that leads to overdoing it, overtraining, overuse — injury — and failure to cross the finish line. Maybe not for you, but for them. And the whole idea of these clinics is to get people to the finish line injury-free.

The good news is – helping people achieve their fitness goals is a passion of mine, it keeps me going. It’s why I volunteer at the Y. It’s why I join clinics – because a shared victory is sweeter than a personal one.

Besides, I live to run and I don’t like to run alone all the time.

So if you’re making a resolution to run a marathon in 2011 — sign up for the race, sign up for the clinic. We’ll get you there!

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Abandon all Hope…

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Y’all know I write for Life As A Human, right? Here’s an excerpt of the latest of mine to be published there:

Hope is six years old.

“I hope I’ll get an ice cream cone today. I hope grandma doesn’t make me eat turnips. I hope I get a pony ride. I hope daddy will come back someday.”

Hope is a six year old in an woman’s body.

“I hope that if I’m very good, if I smile pretty and wear nice clothes, but I’m naughty in bed, he’ll leave her and be with me.”

The flip side of hope is despair.

Despair is Sylvia Plath readings at a coffee house. Despair is three quarters of a bottle of wine sitting in the bath when he leaves. Again.

Daddy never came back. Men never stay.

It’s worth clicking on over there to read the rest …

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My second job

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Did I simply forget how tiring it is to train for a full marathon? Or could it be the extra weekly run and two extra boot camp sessions per week that have me begging for mercy?

Take a little from column A, a lot from column B and you have the reason I wake up in an exhausted fog some mornings. This training schedule is like a second job. For instance, here’s this week’s schedule:

  • Monday: morning tempo run 10-11k; evening “recovery” run with the Running for the Truly Terrified group I started.
  • Tuesday: morning spin class at the YMCA where I’m a volunteer; evening boot camp.
  • Wednesday: evening speed workout with Frontrunners marathon clinic.
  • Thursday: evening boot camp.
  • Friday: one-hour hot yoga at noon because lord knows I need to stretch!
  • Saturday: 19k run (long slow distance: pace 6:50/k, a little over 2 hours)
  • Sunday: hike Witty’s lagoon! (I’m really looking forward to that one!)

As luck would have it, my real job is busy but not crazy-busy, and during the summer I haven’t (yet) needed to put in any overtime hours or travel too much. If that were the case though I’d have to give up something – probably a boot camp session.

As a matter of fact, come August (when my mileage starts climbing again) I will drop one of the boot camps per week, and during taper I won’t weight train at all.

The perennial question for runners is: what are you running from?

Good question. The harder answer (given the fact that marathon training is actually hard on the body) is I have no idea. I can’t think of what I’m avoiding in life by working out so much, I can’t think of anything “chasing” me that would cause me to run away.

The easy answer is: I simply love this, I love running, working out, getting strong, staying youthful, staying healthy; and I love doing it with other people, helping them achieve their fitness goals at the same time I’m achieving mine.

What other possible answer could there be?

Photo: Tori running the Royal Victoria Marathon October 2009 by Bill Broughton

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Coming clean

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{I made this post sticky for a couple of days because it is featured in Schmutzie’s Five Star Friday for May 7}

I lay sobbing in my bath tonight. I had just returned home from a business trip, running on fumes and three hours’ sleep. I was soooo looking forward to soaking in a hot bath and crawling into an early bed.
Instead my bath was — lukewarm.
I’m a longtime advice column junkie (don’t ask, it’s a guilty pleasure), so it occurred to me I should communicate my wants and needs better. So I just came out with my feelings, sobbing and everything. Here is the gist of our somewhat one-sided conversation:

Oh bathtub you were lukewarm! Why?

I don’t really ask anything of you. I like you just the way you are: our relationship is just perfect. I see you once a week – maybe once every two or three weeks if I’m really busy. I just want a special bath once in a while: just me and my bathtub and that special time we share.

Bathing is something very intimate and special for me – I can tell it is for both of us, dear bathtub – but the thing is, I realize now that I’m developing feelings for you. I can’t handle the casualness of this relationship.

It’s not that I want anything to really change mind you. I don’t really want to bathe more often, or visit the factory where you were made, or delve into the history of who you cleaned before I came along.

It’s just that I’ve realized that, having gone this far, if I found out you were cleansing someone else, some stranger, I would be really hurt. Then where would we be? I have to live – and work – in this apartment with you!

I would want to scrub you with bleach to within an inch of your life before I could stand going near you again. Our relationship would never be the same, and we could never go back to that easy casual shower routine we had before the bathing thing came along.

I know, I know, I’m gone to Vancouver a lot, and I sometimes must stay in a hotel with another bathtub. Quite frankly, since you came along I don’t bathe in those other tubs – I only shower.

Even though I’m not ready for anything approaching real commitment – I must admit I really do want another bathtub all my own someday. I’ve been renting for a while now since selling my last condo, and I don’t want to remain a renter forever. When that day comes – I have no idea yet whether you will be The One I take out a mortgage with. Maybe I’ll want a deeper, longer tub, with jacuzzi jets. Who knows? Anything could happen, but we’ve shared some really nice hot baths up until now and I gotta admit you’re on my mind a lot.

Dear bathtub – it’s not like I want to pick out a new shower curtain with you or anything. I just want to know if maybe you are perhaps thinking the same thing: that our relationship is fine the way it is, and neither of use will go screwing up any future considerations by indiscriminately bathing elsewhere?

I would like to know if you consider me a candidate – in the future – down the road – as a possible One and Only bathing beauty.

If not, then maybe we could go back to our friendly day-to-day showers, before it’s too late and one of us (i.e. me) gets left in the cold.

Roman Bath photo by MarkHillary

Rubber Duckie photo by meg@n!!

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Seen on my run

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Suits, heels on downtown city streets, tired faces dodged. A former colleague from the Ministry. A smile hello.

Long steps down to the seawall from the new convention centre. Float planes and large yachts. Bejewelled harbour; I feel glittered in my running shoes. I’m only going for 45 minutes; the race is only a couple of weeks away.

Two men pass me: one wearing a toque and long sleeves and what appear to be skate shoes with only the most minimal sole, the other older. I keep pace just behind them and soak up their chatter as ambient camaraderie.

Bikes, rollerblades on the shady side. A strong pace. Bliss. Just ahead, the lookout point, my estimated 4 k turnaround. I brought water, should I just keep going?

Just one more kilometre.Seawall Run

Rounding a bend I can see the Lion’s Gate bridge. Beyond that I know is the open strait, brilliant sun, cliffs shiny with runoff, more water fountains, beaches. I stop at the 5 k point and take a picture.

Some military-type men run by – their dark blue shirts and muscled arms. They catch my glance, smile and say hi.

“I’m wondering whether I should keep going around,” I call out.

“Go for it, it’s not as long as it looks!”

I know how far it is. If I turn back now, it’s a 10K run. If I keep going, it’s 15k, an extra half hour onto what should really be a taper run.

I keep going, because runs like this are worth more than any Personal Record.

I keep going, because this is why I run.

Photo: Seawall Run, by Tori Klassen

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Beginning the ascent

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Mystic BeachSeveral times in the past three weeks my mouse has hovered over the “submit” button for another fall marathon.

Each time, a little voice in my head says: “Wait until after your Half Marathon in May. Don’t you want to start climbing again? Remember – you don’t want to climb and train for a marathon at the same time…”

Climbing, hiking, trail running – getting out of the city and off the beaten path. It’s what I long to do, but it means a different level of commitment than training for a road race.

It’s a lifestyle change, is what it is.

Road races are – well – urban, and therefore populated. One of the things I really like about the Vancouver Marathon/Half Marathon is the sheer number of participants and spectators. There is always someone cheering you on, always someone to pass going up to Prospect Point (even for a slow runner like me), always someone holding a sign that says “Run like a Kenyan!” There are entertainment stations with music and dance, and usually the Hash House Harriers with a beer table somewhere along the way.

Climbing/hiking/trail running is more isolated. Wild. A little bit risky. A little – on the edge. It brings you into closer contact with your climbing partner(s). It’s more intimate. There’s no crowd cheering you to the finish line, announcing your name. At best there’s a notation in a guidebook, or a scribble in a summit register, and some scrapes and bruises for bragging rights.

This hit home to me as I scrambled around gearing up this morning for a little 5k hike from China Beach to Mystic Beach and back this afternoon. I located my little Adventure first aid kit, an extra layer, emergency rain gear, fuel, water, map (not that I needed one).

As I rummaged through my gear stowed in my locker downstairs, I heard my physiotherapist’s voice in my head saying: “Your toe joint is healing well, you should be able to start climbing again this spring.”

I want that thrill of going into the back country again. I want to be at a campsite, climbing gear spread out, consulting the guidebook, deciding with my partner what to take (one rope or two? Full rack or save weight and leave a few pieces?). I want to share a beer at the end of the day with friends who have literally held my life in their hands at the end the rope.

It’s time again to begin the ascent.

Photo: Mystic Beach, April 5, 2010, taken by Tori Klassen with iPhone using the Best Camera app.

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Running with the wind and the driving rain

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At 5:30 this morning it was pouring rain and windy in Victoria. Why would that stop me from running? They don’t postpone races until the weather is better, so why postpone a training run because the weather’s bad?

It was “only” a recovery run – 45 minutes easy. Except – the rain seemed to drive me along. My pace hovered around 6:00/km the entire time (usual recovery pace 6:30/km).

In short: I LOVED IT!

Raindrops stinging my face, windbreaker soaking through within 5 minutes, unavoidable puddles leading to squishy toes. And the sea — I love the ocean when it froths up into the shore. The tide was in, and the foam reached up to the walkway near Clover Point.

It reminded me of the song: Wild is the Wind. I’ll try to embed the Bowie version here:
Bowie does Wild is the Wind – YouTube

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Sport sponsorship for the rest of us?

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Here’s an idea – please tell me if it’s been done before: why don’t more sports companies sponsor individual run-of-the-mill non-elite average athletes?

I don’t mean picking someone with talent and paying them to do their sport full-time, with a phalanx of coaches, physiotherapists and sport psychologists.

I mean picking somebody who is passionate and committed – but otherwise ordinary – and providing them with more resources to achieve their goals in return for some participation in a marketing campaign.

For instance: a completely average weekend warrior, consistent 10a or 10b climber with a job and a mortgage and maybe a coupla kids – gets a rope and some pieces of pro and some shoes and a new harness and the marketing campaign (including broadcast, print, social and earned media) follows them on their way to their objective for the year – whether it’s sending a 10c lead in Joshua Tree or a multi-day technical scramble in the Rockies.

Another example: a mid- or back-of-the-pack runner gets shoes, gear, entry fees, clinics paid for the duration of the contract in return for their story and for the occasional shill for the manufacturer.

This would be different from your run-of-the-mill “send us your story and we’ll draw from a hat” contest – it would be a complete sponsorship with pretty much all that entails – contracts and all. Not that I really know all that sponsorship of this type entails, I’m just blue-skying here.

The selling hook is not that these athletes will ever be able to set a world record at the Kona Ironman, or bag a first ascent of and epic climb – or even that they would qualify for Boston Marathon. The selling proposition is the sport equivalent of the Joe-the-Plumber phenomenon without the politics.

The selling hook is – these people are you and I. They have family and jobs and set modest (to some) stretch goals. They get blisters and they give up parties on nights before long runs and they sometimes leave their families to train, then are too tired to haul out the BBQ when they get home. They know they’ll never be Lynn Hill or Lori Bowden (and I’m not for a moment suggesting sports companies should not sponsor these athletes!) – but they are inspiring nevertheless.

The little guys can sell sports gear too you know.

04.12.09

Photo by zingersb

And just in case anyone at Mammut, FiveTen, Sugoi, New Balance, Patagonia, Mountain Hard Wear, Kelty, or Lululemon is really interested in this idea, I’m – er – available – ahem! Just email me here.

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