There’s something special about Guelph and the Guelph cycling community.
We’re a small city, just around 150,000 people live here, but boy do we show up. Bike the Night is organized by the Guelph Coalition for Active Transportation and it’s the latest in the “we show up” events.
Here’s the announcement:
“Get ready to illuminate Guelph’s streets! We’re thrilled to announce the return of Bike The Night on Saturday, September 28th, 2024. What: Guelph’s 4th annual illuminated nighttime community bike ride.”
Bike the Night
Here is how it went. I’m not sure exactly how many people were there, definitely more than a hundred bikes. There were adults and kids and teenagers. There were some very elaborately decorated bikes and loads of riders in costumes. I think my favorite was the dragon and knight combo.
To give you an idea of the spirit of the thing there were 8 contestants for the best adult costume. Of course, there were lots of kids, dressed as Thing 1 and Thing 2, some teenage mutant ninja turtles and some princesses, obviously.
Did I mention it was drizzling? But that seemed to have little effect on the jubilant mood.
The ride itself was pretty short, along the riverside trail, through The Ward and back through downtown. It was well marshalled. The best bit was on the trail which was dark except for all the brightly lit bicycles.
We just had our usual bike lights, some fluoro bike clothing and a steering each of IKEA battery operated Halloween lights. But now I’ve got bike lights on my Christmas list.
Mallory has programmable Monkey Lights but it looks like they’ve gone out of business.
View over Palisades Park in New Jersey from Fort Tryon Park
When I lost my relationship of more than 28 years, I also lost the extraordinary complicity of shared memories that is built over that much time. The way a we can hear three notes of a song and be transported into nine different times when they listened to that melody together. The way a we can walk by a restaurant that’s been six different restaurants and remember the first time they ate their together and all the meals in all its different iterations. The way a roadside rest stop can conjure a decade of drives to Vermont.
I am still too often surprised by a wave of grief, which washes through after an experience that hearkens back to a past that no longer exists in the same way, even as a memory. My ongoing divorce has not only radically changed how I live now; it has shattered the lens through which I look at my past, too. Joyful memories, comfortable memories, loving memories—they are all cast into doubt. Spoiled. Was what I lived real? And if it was, how did I lose my life?
Starting a few weeks ago, I have literally been running up against one such file folder of memories. In late August, I decided to run up to The Cloisters Museum and Fort Tryon Park in New York. From my old apartment, it was a 14-mile run, there and back. I’ve moved further north, and further east, so I wasn’t sure how much shorter the run would be. 3 miles shorter, it turns out. Which is just right for what I want to run now. I’ve done the run three times now, and I hope to do it again this week. Just because, I can. After everything (divorce, diagnosis and more), to feel alive and be able to run this route is joyous and comforting. Not only for the physical accomplishment, also for the view of the Palisades cliffs in New Jersey across the river and being on the grounds of the museum that was always my paternal grandparents’ first stop on their semi-annual road trip to New York from Regina, Saskatchewan. My grandmother had a particular love of the unicorn tapestries. Which is why it was also one of the last places I visited in New York with my father before he died, so that we could stand where his mother had stood so many times and feel her spirit. I don’t know if my father knew that his health was failing that day. He had a small growth on his face that he’d been ignoring, which turned out to be melanoma.
The first time I ran to the Cloisters was 30 years ago. There was no beautiful bike path up the west side to the little red lighthouse beneath the George Washington Bridge and what path there was by the river was sketchy and not something I’d run alone. The first time, I ran it with my ex and two other running friends, who have long since moved away. I’ve run it with many different friends over the years. At least once with one of my brothers on a crazy windy day. It’s a great tourist (who is also a runner) outing. And, of course, I ran it with my ex. Many times.
Until 2022, when my marriage started to fall apart, I had done that run every year, often many times (especially during marathon training). I didn’t do the run in 2022, nor in 2023. That was when I started to feel tired. So tired that that kind of distance moved out of reach. Deciding to do the run again, even if a shorter version, was a declaration of renewal.
I can still do this. Even if I’m alone and every step contains a memory. The super steep climb out of Riverside Park. The water fountain in Fort Tryon at the turnaround. The hill one of those OG running friends named, Where the Fuck Did This Come From? Because we’d run steadily up to get to the cloisters. So how was it possible that on our way back down, a few blocks east of where we’d climbed, we were running up yet another hill, which seemed impossible, geologically. Such is the variation in terrain a few blocks apart in Manhattan. And, as if to further taunt us, at the bottom of the hill named Where the Fuck Did This Come From? is a pharmacy called Hilltop Pharmacy. I never pass that corner without a bubble of inner bemusement. I wanted to share that bubble with you, here. To help build new neural pathways into my memories.
As I run, I am filled with a strong brew of melancholy and joy. Each time I trace this route, I carry with me all the iterations and all my companions. And I imagine my grandmother, walking in Fort Tryon Park, stretching her legs after a day of driving, thinking about that dying unicorn. And I remember walking the park paths with my parents. I contain my ancestors and all the girls and women I have been. I revel in the joy of being gifted another opportunity to make my way up to the cloisters on my own two legs.
Image description: three-photo collage with the heading “Howing Ghost Trail Run, Aylmer ON, September 28, 2024,” from left to right: left is a group shot of five smiling runners pre-race (Julie, Ed, Pat, Anita, Tracy), with trees in the background; middle is a selfie of a smiling older woman (Tracy) in a pink tank, black ballcap, and trail in the background; right is a post race selfie of four smiling runners (Tracy, Ed, and Pat in back, Julie in front) all wearing t-shirts that say Howling Ghost Trail Race on them.
My favourite month is September, and it’s not just because it’s my birthday month. I love it for the perfect weather and the changing palette of nature. Cool mornings, less intense sun even in the middle of the day, hints of red and orange starting to show among the greenery. What better time of year for trail running than the early fall!
So that’s how I let peer pressure push me into an 8K trail race after I said I was done with official running events. I call it a race, but with my current 8K time being slower than my 10K used to be, it’s just an outing, on a trail, with 140 other people, followed by lunch. Here’s how it went.
First of all, though the title of my post refers to “joy,” there was little of that for me during the run. I mean, it’s always enjoyable to be with my running crew, and five of us made it out that day. It’s fun to get out of town, even if it’s just a little bit out of town. The Howling Ghost Trail Race was in Aylmer, at the Springwater Conservation Area.
We’ve been having brilliant weather lately, but of course leading up to race day the forecast probability of precipitation increased from 40% to 60% and finally settled at 80% for the time that we were scheduled to run. I fully expected to be running at least part of the trail in the pouring rain, which would have also meant navigating mud. To my great surprise, the rain held off. The prospect of it hung heavily in the air throughout, making it a muggy outing through the woods. Thank you Julie for remembering bug spray.
I had no race strategy other than, ridiculously, I had planned to do 10-1 run-walk intervals. I say “ridiculously” because I have been working my way up to 10-1 run-walk intervals gradually for the past months and I have not trained consistently enough for any length of time to actually get there. Throwing, “don’t change anything on game day” out the window, I set myself up to fail. Other than an unrealistic race strategy, which I gave up on before the first 10 minutes was up, I have one rule and one rule only that I apply when training, out for a leisure run, or doing an event: run, don’t walk, up the hills. At every hill I reminded myself of that, a rule that I cling to when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. I stuck to it almost entirely, except for one part towards the end where there was a hill, a slight levelling, and the MORE HILL. At the MORE HILL, I said “nope.”
The poorly chosen unreasonable 10-1 strategy was a mistake because it created a mental battle. It is a very bad idea to have a goal that is not realistic because, for me, it puts me in a “falling short” mindset instead of a “killing it!” mindset. If I had stuck with 6-1 intervals I would likely have had a better race. What made it so miserable? I simply could not keep my heart rate in a reasonable range. I was in the red zone every time I checked my heart rate. That meant that I had to pull back to a walk in order to try to recover. And since it was an event, I didn’t give myself enough time to properly recover. The result: an uncomfortable 8K where I felt out of my element, old (I had just turned 60 a few days before), and out of shape.
I came in 61/68 running the 8K, with a time of 1:08:59. I have run much faster 10Ks. Overall, the race was hard and I felt discouraged by it. Still and all, I covered the ground, so that’s something. On a positive note, the event had a great vibe and the folks at Persistence Racing plotted out a well-marked course on a relatively easy wooded trail, nicely groomed, with few hills. I would love to go back some time this fall when the leaves are changing.
Last week Sam referenced a 2020 post she wrote about aging and keeping up your speed. Even though I commented on Sam’s older post that my objective these days is just to get out there, I would be lying if I said my time didn’t sting a bit. I’ve never been fast, but I’ve also never been slower than I am now. Resounding in my head are the words from Sam’s 2020 post: “Older athletes get slower and less strong, not because they’re older, but rather because they train less than younger athletes.”
I am definitely training less than I did when I was 50. That’s why I couldn’t keep my heart rate under control. It has nothing to do with my age and everything to do with how I prepared (or did not adequately prepare) for the 8K trail event.
As a result of all of this, I have embarked on a plan to actually recapture some joy in my fall running, whether on trails or not. That plan includes some coached runs using the (free) Nike Run Club app. So far, the two runs I’ve done from the app (“First Run” and “Next Run”) have helped me connect with how good it feels to run with ease. I like the approach of setting out to run with a purpose, even if that purpose is a slow recovery run where you are not pushing too hard.
I’ll report back about the NRC experience in a month or so. Meanwhile, if you get a chance to enjoy some autumn weather out on the trails, go for it!
For all the challenges that my ADHD throws my way, there are some benefits that come from having this particular brain-wiring.
For example, I enjoy making good use of my contextual thinking, I like the creative sparks and ideas that fly off in all directions, I’m happy with the string of connections that bring me to unusual solutions and, best of all, I like that my loose sense of time contributes to my hearty dose of optimism.
That loose sense of time can present some difficulties – I take on too much, I can’t always tell how long things will take, and I can lose track of how long it has been since I last worked on a given project.
BUT
That same flexible sense of time often means that, for me at least, it feels like there are a lot of possibilities open. I generally feel very optimistic that things will get better and that, even if I am having trouble right now, some future me will be better able to handle things.*
Now, before you picture me decked out in red curls with a little dress just made for curtsying, I’m not Annie. I’m not over here brightsiding myself and other people and you will never catch me singing ‘The sun’ll come out tomorrow!’ at you when things are challenging. (I’m much more of a ‘Yes, that sucks. I’m sorry that’s happening to you. Do you need to vent or are you in solutions-mode?’ kind of person)
And when I say ‘I live in hope’, I never mean that I sit around *waiting* for things to improve, my optimism isn’t empty. But my default setting is to assume that things will get better so I keep working in that direction.
So when I say I’m all in for Optimistic October with Action for Happiness, I mean it.
Image description: An image of a multicoloured calendar for Optimistic October from Action for Happiness with a tip for each day. The calendar blocks are in various shades of yellow, orange, pink, and red, with cartoon images around the edge. The image includes a small plant, a person on a hike, a book, a sneaker, a banana, an apple, and a very small person holding a huge sign with the image of the earth on it.
Optimism – believing in a positive future and taking steps to make that future happen- is a good strategy for feeling happier overall and I like how Action for Happiness makes it a bit easier to shift yourself towards optimistic thinking and a little extra happiness.
I especially like how this month’s calendar starts out with the suggestion that you identify three things to look forward to. What a great way to practice optimism and to savour something fun in advance.
Even though my base level of optimism is quite high, I will be trying the tips for Optimistic October.
And I hope you’ll join me for whichever ones feel doable for you. I think your brain might like it!
Still image description: a video from the Action for Happiness YouTube channel. The video is called ‘Building Optimism and Hope: 3 top tips with Vanessa King.’ The still image shows King, a white-appearing woman with blonde hair cut in a shoulder-length bob, from the shoulders up. She is in a sunlit room with plants and flowers behind her.
*Yes, this sometimes backfires on me when it turns out that future me is the same as past me but I’m learning to figure out when it’s a good idea to assign something to future me and when it is better for current me to do it.
