Saint John, New Brunswick has its share of hills.
Even on the other side of the country, I still have to get my run in. Today just so happens to mark the death of my father, but the kind of guy he was, he wouldn't want a little thing like death to distract me from doing what I'm supposed to do. If anything, his memory provides me with motivation.
My Dad was one of the most feared rugby players in Atlantic Canada at one time, and I heard an account from one of his former opponents that he would just drop the ball/turn it over, rather than be tackled by the beast that was Don. He always played clean from what I gather. He was a big guy, but in a game of sustained intensity like rugby, it's about more than just size. You've got to be able to run. For this reason, I'll pour everything I have into this run today. For you, Dad.
I'm crashing at my sister's house for the time being, and it's right in the inner-city, a neighborhood lovingly dubbed "Lower West". The are is ripe with tough hills, rugged shoreline and pothole-ridden roads. This is just the challenge I need, but a little nature would be nice.
Enter the Irving Nature Park, 7Km from my sister's house, which offers everything a runner needs as twisting trails and hellish hills. I think I'll make this my destination. I set out with a small bottle of water and a Powerbar Gel just in case things get hairy.
The run from Lower West takes me up 2 devastating hills called Lancaster Street and Duke Street; it's a good way to warm up. As I hit the neighborhood of Fundy Heights, things level out and I make my way to Sand Cove Road, a big, long stretch that ends at the Nature Park. Sand Cove is actually a major downslope, ending in a nice steep hill. That was a breeze! But hey, everybody knows that what goes down must come up...
As I enter the park, I pause for a decond to look at the trail map. I could spend all day in these trails, but like the ant of "The Ant & The Grasshopper" fame, I know there's a long winter ahead. This winter includes a Kilometer-long Extreme Hill, followed by about 3K's of steady climbing. I think I'll take the main road, which is only another 7K. I find solace in the fact that I'm finally off the pavement. Loose gravel isn't exactly a down-filled comforter, but my knees can feel the difference right away.
Rounding every corner, climbing every hill, I'm afforded some pretty amazing views of moist wetlands full of marine birds like Heron, Sandpiper, and my favourite marine bird, Crow. On the other side of the park is the majestic Bay of Fundy, where seals come to play. I'm tempted to take it all in, but this is running, not gawking. With a little turn of the head, I can take in the view while still keeping pace, just seeing everything in high-speed view. It's still pretty awesome. It saddens me that I took this place for granted all those years I called Saint John home.
As the main trail nears its end (I can tell by the excellent trail markers every 0.5 Km), I swig water and choke down my Gel. I estimate I've been running for about an hour now, or 14 K, whichever comes first. Looking ahead, I see the behemoth that awaits, Sand Cove Road.
There are at least 3 ways to build leg muscle in my books: Track workouts, Hill Repeats, and Weightlifting. I'll take Door #2, Bob. Hills! With 14K behind me, I'm not exactly fresh, but this is where my mental toughness kicks in. That hill is nothing compared to what I can do. With my head up high, I grind it out and get through the extreme elevation. Now it's a steady climb up, and the nice, level Fundy Heights. I'm almost home! Let's see if I can gather some speed down Duke Street. Yup! I can!
Since I'm without a watch, I rely on the kitchen clock at my sister's house. Walliam Clockington tells me I just ran 20K in 1 Hour and 40 minutes. Not great, but not bad when you factor in those hills. What did I learn today? Climbing your way to the top is achievable if you want it and are willing to work. I hope the drenched t-shirt and aching calves are enough evidence of my struggle, and I hope Dad was watching from above. If I ever play rugby again, my opponents are going to feel the power and the strength that Dad gave me, and the hill repeats just proved. Love ya big guy!
Don Stafford - March 4th 1941 to Aug 13th 2010
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