Rubble Creek and random thoughts

Rubble Creek Classic

Last week, Jen and I, accompanied by 30 friends/strangers ran the Rubble Creek Classic .  Chicks in the Sticks go racing!  We’ve been wanting to do this run for years and we finally committed; or rather, I signed Jen and I up whether she liked it or not.  Neither of us have gotten in much quality training of late but the day was spectacular and well worth the effort of getting up early and running 24K.

About 8 km of climbing, a random number of kms of flats around the base of Black Tusk and then 10 painful kms of down, down, down… I felt that run for days.

It was mostly worth it because I had the most spectacular nap that afternoon.

Fact

“If you want something done, give it to the busiest person you know”.  Truer words were never spoken – to me, anyway.  I’ve been “retired” for about 3 weeks now and I am struggling to relax and feeling the need to fill my days with tasks and projects.  I’m afraid that if I slow down, I’ll never get going again.

Fall

It’s Fall now, pretty much officially.  Shorter days, cold mountain mornings.  I love the leaves, the light, the change.  I don’t love having to layer the kids in clothing.  I’m counting the days till the can dress themselves intelligently to head into the cold outdoors.

Early runs now start in the dark… harder to pry oneself out of bed, that’s for sure.  This morning’s CITS run was the 2nd Annual-Earn-That-Turkey-Dinner-run through the Mosquito Lake trails.  The sunrise made it special, as did the fact that we were done by 8:45am.

Thankful

There is much to be thankful for this year.  Despite the loss of my mother a few weeks ago, I am thankful for being surrounded by such good friends, ridiculous children, a close-knit family and some pretty nice physical surroundings.  Frankly, there isn’t much I can complain about.

Ed: is it thankful FOR or thankful that I?  See?  Told you I wasn’t a writer.

QOTD

Anja and I fly to Quebec tomorrow to prepare for Mum’s celebration of life.  She is very excited about prospect of “fwying on da aiyapwane”.  Little does she know that flying is basically like sitting in a car for 5 hours, but with a bathroom.  I can’t bring myself to burst her bubble.  I have, however, drilled the notion of sky martials into their towheads.  Scream and the “sky martian” is allowed to open the door at the back of the plane and “fwow you out!”

Parenting 101.  Fear and mild skepticism.

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