The Beast from the East

We've had quite a significant dump of snow this winter. Nothing by Canadian standards I'm sure, but more than my little Volkswagen Polo can handle and certainly more than my trail shoes were designed for. This has led to much chin scratching over how to get my marathon training runs done.

The first major flurries of snow came last Wednesday morning and pretty much continued all day. It was quite mesmerising to watch it from the window, floating in from the east at a 45 degree angle. Then it started to pile up and gradually our little wall separating us from our neighbour disappeared, leaving an undisturbed expanse of brilliant white fluff that seemed a shame to disturb. Unfortunately this did not bode well for running on the pavements. I pulled on my running gear nevertheless, complete with a menacing snood and set of sunglasses to keep the wind chill away, and slid down the front staircase in search of somewhere suitable to run 3 miles. I found myself trotting along the main road, which aside from a snow plough and a few abandoned cars was deserted.

By Saturday the roads were clear, which meant cars were back on them, so 10 miles would have to be accomplished elsewhere. I ended up doing 22 laps of our local woods (a popular dog walking area) where I was cheered on by my husband leaning out of our upstairs window and chased occasionally by an enthusiastic Vizsla.

By Monday the snow was starting to melt, but not quite enough for speedwork so it was off to the treadmill for an hour of sweating. I had hoped by the following Wednesday the snow would have cleared, which it had not, but I thought I would give a trail run a go as I had run in the snow before and, albeit a bit slow, it hadn't been that bad.

This time it was hell. Hell on earth. Complete and utter awfulness with several expletives thrown in. Slushy-slipping-sloshing-wading-in-icy water-frozen-toes-knee-deep-in-untouched-snow-hell.

But enough said about that. Tomorrow will be the furthest I have run so far - 14 miles - and I hope to goodness that sun has been doing its best to melt those little pesky ice crystals.

My husband reminded me that it's those hard miles that earns you the finish line. He's absolutely right and I'll look back and think damn I earned that marathon. In the meantime I'll not be sad to see the back of the Beast from the East.