Let me say it up front. I love Spring. As I get older, it’s becoming my favorite of the seasons. I crave the extra hours of daylight from now until late-June. I crave the first dry and sunny mornings, when bike riding to work is a joy in short sleeves and a skirt. I love how green and fresh everything is, like the world is enjoying a good deep stretch after a long, cold winter.

Rain or shine, I have biked (or walked) to and from work every day for about a month now. In addition to enjoying the relatively flat ride, biking gives me an extra hour every day. My commute is about 20 minutes; easily half that of taking public transit.

This morning, I decided to forgo an extra hour of sleep in favor of getting up at 6 and spending a peaceful morning working on pattern stuff… in the back yard.

We don’t so much have a yard as an extended patio. Our “yard” is about 20 feet long and 13 feet wide, a mixture of landscaping and brick work. Because of the dogs, we’ve opted for container gardens, which are starting to really fill in with lettuces and tomatoes and herbs.

We just have room for a small patio table, so I sat there, enjoyed a couple cups of coffee, and took another pass through Watershed to clarify some questions I’ve gotten from knitters.

I love being outside in the morning, and I love having a few hours of quiet before my day really starts going. The only problem? I wanted to go for a run today, and it was tough to tear myself out of my little quiet patio.

It’s a three day weekend here in Canada, and we still haven’t decided what – if anything – to do with ourselves. The campgrounds are going to be nutso, and we’re contemplating driving to St. Charles to visit the family. (Dad’s still in the nursing home and just came down with Pneumonia, but is otherwise doing ok.) If not, I’m going to enjoy spending time working on the yard. We still want to change somethings, namely, putting down pea gravel on top of the dirt areas to prevent the dogs from digging and provide more drainage. Ahem.

It’s supposed to be gorgeous weather still. And I’m looking forward to 3 days off.

In the meantime, wow, do I have a LOT of knitting to do!

This morning, I got up at 6am, showered, pulled and pried myself into various forms of performance spandex, and drove across town with the sole purpose of running for a little more than an hour with 12,000 other insane souls.

Since November, I’ve been struggling with shin splints; worse on my left leg than right, but noticeable on both. I’ve been to the doctor. I’ve rested. I’ve stretched. I’ve cross trained. I’ve done it all, and they still haunt me. Going into this race, I was pain free for several weeks until my last few training runs. Then, more discomfort on the left shin and calf. I opted to take more time off rather than push it. I rested for three weeks until this morning, and decided to go as slow as I felt I should, even if I ended up walking the whole route.

I won’t lie.

The first 2 miles felt pretty rough. Barely a third of the way in, my calves and shins cramped up terribly. I was near tears, and if it wasn’t for Moira, I may have called it quits. Instead, I walked until it felt better, and was surprised that it did feel better after a little while.

By the 4th kilometer, I started to enjoy myself.

Somewhere around 6km, I remembered exactly why I love to run; that incredible feeling of invincibility, when my feet barely touched the pavement, when I floated, when I flew, when I felt that I could just run forever.

I finished the race at 1 hour 11 minutes and 52 seconds. Well over 7 minutes a kilometer, and a slow enough time to place me approximately 10,500th in the race overall.

And yet, although I only beat 12.5% of the participants to the finish line, I am so freaking proud of myself right now.

For someone as competitive as me, it can be tough to be terrible. I like to go all out. I do the research, I learn as much as I can, and I try for the best at every challenge. Almost a year after I started running, I’ve realized that my inability to be the best at this is precisely why I love to run.

I’m never going to be the fastest. (Unless maybe I’m running marathons into my 90s!) I’m likely never going to place in the top 10 of any race for my age group and gender.

And I’m totally, 100% ok with that.

For me, running races is about the journey my mind and body go through along the way. It’s about the very personal challenge of pushing through when it feels hopeless. Of saying “I can… maybe…” instead of “not a chance.” Of focusing on the things within me; my core, my breath, my stride. And the things outside; the pack, the weather, the spectators, and the scenery.

This is why I run. For myself. To be inside my own head and body for a half hour, an hour, or two. To put on some good tunes. To feel my feet fly.

And it’s also, maybe, a little about the bling.

The best part about racing? If you finish, you win. At least in my mind.

I may be a terrible runner, but I finished today, much faster than I thought I could, with my hands raised above my head and a huge smile on my face.

Today hasn’t been all that smooth. It started out fine. I woke, some time around 6:20, with a dog’s face on my neck, tucked in for snuggles. I got out of bed and enjoyed a lovely half cup of freshly brewed coffee. I checked the internets and decided to go for a run shortly after Sandra left for work.

That, my friends, is where everything went wrong.

The run itself was lovely. -5C with snow lightly falling. Little wind, except on Argyle on the way back. I did an easy 5km around Trinity Bellwoods and decided I wasn’t done. I pushed on for another 1.5km, enjoying the feel of going just a little bit faster, a little bit further.

I remember being exceptionally proud of myself, for not only running outside in January, but being quite comfortable running outside in January. See, my first few winter runs were either overdressed or underdressed, but I think I’ve finally figured it out. Running tights + sweat pants + l/s tech shirt + running jacket, a hat, and lightweight gloves. Perfect layers that can be unzipped and vented, or kept closed on days like today, with wind chills nearing -15C.

Remember this. My outfit will become kind of ironic later on.

I eventually made my way back to the house, fumbling in my usually-zipped jacket pocket to find the spare key.

No key.

Wait, that’s impossible. I’d zipped it in there before I started. It’s a new jacket – there are no holes. I checked the pockets again, then checked inside the pants pocket just in case.

No key.

It must have fallen out at some point along the route. I was locked out of my house. In the middle of January. With snow, lightly falling. Wearing basically indoors clothing.

I thought that maybe – maybe – I’d forgotten to lock the back door the last time I’d let the dogs in. After all, I had been expecting to be back inside, getting ready for work, before doing the final walk through on the house.

Our house doesn’t exactly have an alley, but it has a path that stretches from the street to our backyard. I jogged around the block, and that cold sweat felt absolutely awesome in the chilly breeze. I fiddled a little with our back gate. Totally stuck. Completely stuck.

So, I decided to climb over it.

Not my finest moment. But not the worst moment of the day to come. I made it, and nearly avoided several fresh batches of dog poo.

Unfortunately, I’d been safe earlier, and properly locked the back door.

Back over the fence again. I sat on the front deck for a few minutes, debating what to do next. I had my iPod Touch with me, so I fired off a couple of Twitter DMs to get someone to phone Sandra to phone our dog-sitter. Maybe April could come by with her key? And let me in, so I could get warm, shower, and finally get ready for work?

I check the time. It’s 9:15. I’ll be late, but not terribly so, all things considered.

Just then, my iPod battery dies. No way to get a return message, or know if anyone got ahold of Sandra.

I walked down to the Drake. It’s three long blocks facing the wind, and I was now coated with several layers of ice where my sweat had frozen. I stumbled inside and told a short version of my story to the gal at the desk. She looked me up top to bottom. I was wearing my green ear flap hat, my pink shirt, and my yellow jacket. I looked like a frozen rainbow. She laughed a little, mostly in sympathy, and showed me the phone and gave me a glass of water.

I have never been more grateful for a phone, so of course, I immediately asked her for another favor – to look up a few locksmith numbers.

Within seconds of the first conversation, I realized the locksmith plan was not going to pan out. Not only did I not have any money on me, I didn’t have any ID either. My wallet, like my keys, were safe inside on the foyer bookshelf. The locksmith snickered a little when I explained, then eventually agreed to come open the door. In two hours.

I took a deep breath. Two hours. During which time I do what? Sit like a lump on the couch in the Drake’s lobby? Bum a cup of coffee and some food and twiddle my thumbs?

After a second (really, what were my options?) I agreed. At which point he told me that the fee would be $150. Fine, I said.

“And it’s cash only. No debit. No credit card.”

I thought about asking if he’d wait for me to run to the closest ATM – six blocks or so – and return with the cash, but then decided it wasn’t worth the cost or the wait.

Since I hadn’t tried retracing my steps yet, I decided to take another run to the park and back, following the same route. The key may have just been one, but it had a red shiny tag on it, and maybe I’d be able to spot it on the sidewalk or along the road.

3.62 incredibly cold kilometers later, I was back at the house, still key-less.

I stepped over the city guys working on the water pipes outside our house and went up to the door. There was a tag hanging from the doorknob, and I’d hoped it was April, or some other offer of help.

Instead, it was an “Advanced Warning” notice from the City, letting me know – quite helpfully – that our water would be disconnected beginning at 10am on the 27th.

It was the 27th. And it was well after 10am. And that notice had not been there at 9:15. I spun around on my heels and shouted, “Hey! Is my water turned off right now?”

A large surly man raised his head from the ditch and said, “We knocked. You weren’t home.”

“That’s because I was out running 10km. I need to shower. How am I supposed to shower with no water? Not to mention the total lack of ‘Advanced’ Notice. 20 minutes is NOT Advanced.”

I may have continued for a few paragraphs. About common courtesy, the disruption to my work day. At some point, he stopped listening and just went to work, and I remembered that even if there was piping hot water just inside, I still had no keys to get in.

At this point, my day actually improved a little. I couldn’t do anything about anything. I couldn’t shower. I couldn’t change. I couldn’t get my TTC pass so I could take the bus. But what I could do was head back to the Drake again. It was warm there, and the very helpful and sweet desk clerk might have another idea.

When I came into the lobby, she greeted me with a cup of coffee and mentioned that April had just phoned for me. Perfect! She also mentioned that if I needed bus fare, she could spot me the $3. She’d been locked out before, and she knew how much it sucked.

I phoned April and we chatted for a few minutes. She couldn’t come for 45 minutes or so, and I decided to just get on the streetcar and head to work.

Remember, for a second, what I’m wearing. Sweatpants. Bright yellow jacket. Bright pink top. Bright green ear flap hat. And also, let’s remember that I work for the Ontario Government in Cabinet Office. While I generally wear jeans to work, it’s not a sweatpant kind of place.

When I got to the building, I had to check in with security. Obviously, my official badge was also at home. He looked me up and down once, then twice. I spelled my name for him and assured him that I worked in the building. Room 4610, to be precise.

He squinted at the screen and then back at me.

“Can you take off the funny hat, miss?”

I should have said yes immediately. All I could think of was that I had showered the morning before, had slept on my hair, and without brushing it, had shoved it into the funny hat so I could go for a nice little run with minimal fuss.

Basically, I looked like crap. Frozen, sweaty, crap.

My hesitation must have spoke volumes. “Oh, it’s got to be you. I can tell. Here’s your badge.”

Once safely upstairs, my coworkers were nice enough to not openly mock or laugh. Ten minutes later, I’d changed into backup clothing and shoes; an old pair of black uggs, my sweatpants, a black tee and this too-big maroon cardigan. Not exactly chic or work appropriate, but a step up from the tech gear. My hair got shoved into a serviceable pony tail. I washed my face and generally freshened up. And then went about my day.

I used to be the kind of person this never happened to. I was organized to a fault. In fact, just yesterday, I was explaining my beloved Eagle Creek Packing Cube system, and how I love that I can keep track of everything I need when I travel. And yet, something about 2010 is making me fear for my brain. That maybe I’ve lost that part of myself that has helped me function all these years.

I’m forgetting plans. I’m forgetting tasks. And now I’m losing keys.

The whole thing could have been prevented so many ways. Stashing a backup key somewhere hidden outside. Securing the key to my necklace. Running with a $20. Buying an iPhone so I can have the phone AND my Nike+ when I run.

Or just not being stupid.

On the good side, I managed to get in a 10k before work this morning. On the downside, I got to work just before 11. I inconvenienced at least five people plus my dogs, who probably wanted another trip to the bathroom before I left for work. I walked around the office in totally unflattering and unprofessional attire. Getting home from work will involve borrowing more money for the streetcar and braving the elements in well ventilated running gear.

But despite it all, I am laughing quite hardily at myself for this gaffe. It’s such a noob mistake, to lock oneself out.

And I’m really going to enjoy that shower when I get home tonight.

Mellow Warmup
(Getting going, waking up)
Electric Twist – A Fine Frenzy
Love of Our Lives – Indigo Girls
Beautiful Day – U2
O… Saya – Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack
Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas
Driver Education – Indigo Girls
Gold Digger – Glee Cast Version

Silly Euphoric Music
(You know, for right around the point when running feels amazing)
Hot N Cold – Katy Perry
Sometimes – Michael Franti & Spearhead
Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting – Elton John
Waking Up in Vegas – Katy Perry
Don’t Rain On My Parade – Glee Cast Version
Bust a Move – Glee Cast Version

Just… Keep… Running…
(When stopping isn’t an option.)
I Do Not Hook Up – Kelly Clarkson
SexyBack – Justin Timberlake
Sound of Water / Change Your Mind – Sarah Slean
Battlefield – Jordin Sparks
Are You Gonna Be My Girl – Jet
No Sleep Tonight – The Faders
Die Another Day – Madonna

To the End…
(When you need one or two more tunes to get you there.)
Run – Amy MacDonald
First Train Home – Imogen Heap
Forca – Nelly Furtado
Chickenman – Indigo Girls

I don’t know. I tend to listen to a lot of wacky stuff when I run. First rule? It has to be something I want to sing along to. When I run outside, and no one’s around, sometimes I do sing little bits and pieces as a way of checking my breath and exertion level.

I have three running-related playlists. One is the one I put together for the half marathon last fall, but I use it on any run over an hour. It’s got 70 or so songs, and contains everything from classic rock to Bollywood. My smaller playlist has 40 tried-and-true favorites, including all of the above. But I tend to use the On-the-go playlist more often right now, with 10 or 20 absolute current favorites so I don’t find myself needing to hit skip too often. (Tough on the iPod touch with sweaty fingers).

I’m having a tough time transitioning towards more indoor workouts for the winter. After getting shin splints pretty bad in November from running too much too soon in too cold weather, I’ve had little luck getting outside without pain. Today will be my second treadmill workout ever, and while I can’t say I like it, it lets me run, and so far, I’m pain free.