Riding a bike should be as easy as well, riding a bike. I pumped up the tires, tested the gears and set off down the hill. Then I noticed something was wrong. The crank arm, the little shaft that has the pedal on it, on the left side was extremely loose, and almost falling off! This happened to my old bike, and it took nothing more than a good tightening with a socket set. I turned around, hopped off the bike and jogged along with it, back to the house. Looking around, I couldn't locate the tool kit, so I decided to just run it. I filled my water bottle, grabbed 2 Powerbar Gels and set off. Here's my route:
13K from Dartmouth to Coal Harbor
10K Heritage Trail/Salt Marsh Trail
13K back to Dartmouth
It's perfect running weather today; a little cloud, a little cool-ish and not too humid. The run to the park felt pretty good, save for some construction work that diverted me to a back street. It's the scenic route, right? There was a good hill up, a good hill down, and then another good hill down, down, down to Cole Harbor Heritage Park. After navigating through a section of the Heritage Trail, I hung a left and the trail opened up into a huge Saltwater Marsh, with all kinds of sandpiper and heron. This reminds me of the wetlands back in Saint John at the Irving Nature Park, except the air smells way fresher, with a little salty hint.
I stop to choke down a Gel and read a plaque, which tells me this was once a Native fishing ground, but European settlers came in and built a railroad, connecting one part of Nova Scotia to the other, presumably before the highway was built. This abandoned railbed, including several bridges, is now the home of a nice running/walking trail. There are a few other people out today with their dogs and families, and a couple of fisherman putting around in boats. I'm not sure what they're pulling out of the water, because I don't see any fish. Maybe clams? I reach the other side of the Salt Marsh and turn back, re-tracing my steps back up, up, up to Cole Harbor Road.
My water bottle is empty, so I start eyeing restaurants and businesses along the side of the road where I can fill up. I step inside a gas station, dripping with sweat and breathing heavily. I ask the counter attendant if I can use the bathroom, and the frightened look on her face tells me that she was probably expecting me to utter the magic words, "Empty the register" or "Put all the money in a paper bag!" I just want some tap water fer chrisakes!
After filling up, I caught my reflection in the mirror, and that's when I noticed the huge white lines running down my face, remnants of the salt left behind from all the sweat escaping my pores. Combined with my bloodshot eyes from the sweat burning my pupils, I was quite a sight. I got the hell out of that gas station with a fresh bottle of water and another horrified look from the cashier.
The final stretch is all uphill. I turn up a street called Irish Town or something or other, and I'm really pounding it out, laying it on the line. This is another Triple Threat Hill, complete with blind crests and a never-ending incline. I get back to my friends' place and look at the kitchen clock. 36K in 3 hours is way off my race pace, but I have to factor in the climb, the gas station break, stopping to read the plaque, and taking my time to avoid getting lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Still, I'm pretty happy with my ability to climb a full-out hill at the end of 36K, which bodes well for my next run. I was making up for lost time with this long run, but there's no sense of desperation. With 6 weeks left before the Victoria Marathon, there's lots of time to improve. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow, which is exactly what my buddy serves up for dinner. A 10-ounce steak, sweet potatoes and grilled vegetables has never tasted better!
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