If you could see me now

Day 42 of 130
Ks covered: 259
Ks to go: 843
General mood: a-okay
Running highlight: 23K long run
Equipment status: Same
Body status: Bruised, but good
Weight: 146 lbs

I run in a see-through shirt.

Unfortunately for the local construction workers, it seems the rest of me is see-through too.

During my long run yesterday, I bounded onto a snow-covered patch of ice.  My feet flew out in front of me, my arms twisted behind my back and I landed with a thud on my tush — Yes, for those who are counting, that’s two weeks in a row that I have kissed asphalt. A man walking his dog nearby peered quizzically through me as if I were a strange sound in the distance. He then turned to scoop his bedraggled bow-wow’s bowel movement without so much as acknowledging my prone presence.  Maybe if I’d smelt more like poo he might have at least offered me a plastic bag, let alone a hand. On the plus side I’m seriously rethinking my weight loss plan because my fat-ass quite literally saved my ahem, fat-ass. Thanks to my extra posterior cushioning and my ballerina-like grace, for me it wasn’t  much of a fall, but more of a gentle glide into a prone-position in the middle of a park during a snowstorm.

After a delay for de-icing, I left behind my Becky-shaped butt-print and reached cruising speed, only to be run off a sidewalk-free road, quite literally, by an angry man in a van.

Post-run, while sitting on some frozen peas, I got to thinking:   “Are there so many runners that people are domestically blind to us? Or is my recent two-pound weight loss so severe that I was obscured by random snowflakes?”

After bandaging my wounds, I took my question to the streets, (well, really just the sidewalk in front of my house), asking random strangers what they thought of runners:

My three-year old daughter:  “Mummy, there are monsters on the TV”
My husband: “Do we have any chips?”
Susan the Canada Post lady: “Do you guys ever shovel your drive?”

I’m just not sure what to make of this.

What I do know is that I’m looking forward to running in Ottawa with a thousands of people who persevere through the same thing. The recent issue of Canadian Running  writes about how running in groups releases endorphins. Maybe the researchers are right. Maybe it does harken back to the need to hunt in groups. Or maybe we’re just grateful someone else notices we are there.

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