iRun Blog Idol - Visit my site!

I am loathe to tell everyone to stop looking at this blog and instead visit another blog, but that is exactly what I am going to do.

You see, I have entered an exciting contest with iRun Magazine.  Instead of blogging about running here on Xanga, I blog about running on the iRun website, with 9 other bloggers.  The winner is the person with the most trafficked blog!

That is why I need you, dear readers, to go visit my new iRun Blog Idol site, once every day!  That's right - once a day.  The contest is based on the highest number of unique visitors per day.  Don't worry, I'll make sure it is updated frequently with interesting stuff!

Currently Winston Churchill: A Life (Penguin Lives) By John Keegan see related

The Day Everyone Came Out to See Me Run

This morning I skipped work because I work on Parliament Hill, and there was an annoying security drill on the Hill that was inconveniencing everyone.  So I decided to stay at home and go running!

I ran my usual 10 km route down the Rideau Canal this Thursday morning, the 19th of February.  I started at the Hog's Back locks and ran to the Bronson Street Bridge, where I got on the ice and ran to the Pretoria Bridge.  I then turned around and ran back to Hog's Back.

This was an unusual run for me, and not just because I hadn't read the weather conditions (I hadn't, and ended up uncomfortably warm for most of my run).  No, this was an unusual run because my celebrity was taken to new heights.  All along the Rideau Canal were people standing in groups, watching me run, and cheering!  Dozens of Ottawans had come out to line my route and cheer me on my Thursday morning run!  People were missing work, students were missing school, and I'm pretty sure that some children in that daycare group hadn't brought back their field trip permission forms . . . .

I knew I was a popular man, but I did not know how popular.  Dozens were on hand to watch and cheer, and there were hundreds of RCMP officers on hand to hold them back!  I ran down the nearly deserted Canal with the adoring throngs being barely held back on the sidewalk.

Well, I got down to the Pretoria Bridge, and things started to get very strange.  It wasn't only the locals who wanted to catch a glipse of me - foreign dignitaries wanted to see me too!  The word must have gotten out that I was going for a run on Thursday morning!

Police cars came tearing down Colonel By Drive.  They were followed by more police cars, which were followed by more police cars, which were followed by a helicopter.  And that procession was followed by a giant motorcade - at least 50 vehicles long.  It had everything.  There were the classic black SUVs with tinted windows, the unmarked police cruisers, some paramedic vans, a number of armoured cars, and in the middle of it all, a heavily armoured black Cadillac limosine nicknamed "The Beast."

I know that I am new to the sport of running, but I have become so popular that even President Barack Obama came to Ottawa to cheer me on!

I look exactly like an Ottawa-area celebrity. I do not know who this celebrity is nor have I ever met him, but whoever he is, I look exactly like him.

Recently I was tapped on the shoulder in the Ottawa airport by someone who mistook me for someone else. And while running this weekend, I was twice recognised by people who I do not even know.

I stepped out onto the Rideau Canal pathway on a sunny and cold Saturday. Actually, it was not even that cold - somewhere in the -10 degrees range. The Canal was packed with skaters.

After rounding Dow's Lake, the Canal pathway heads north to Bank Street very close to the level of the ice, and very close to the skaters. And this is where my 16 km run started to get strange. All those skaters were all staring at me. It was like they had never seen someone in running shoes before! I felt like I was in the middle of an M. Night Shamalayan movie. Every time I glanced at the ice, there they were - families, students, couples, all staring back at me like I was some long-lost acquaintance of theirs who they couldn't quite place.

Of course, the was nothing I could do about it. If the Winterlude skaters want to stare slack-jawed at me, then I have little choice but to let them. And besides, unless you were on the receiving end of Superman's laser eyes, then staring has never hurt anyone. But it was on the return leg of my run that things started to get really strange.

I crossed the Mackenzie King Bridge, and ran south along the Colonel By side of the Canal. This portion of the Canal was not well ploughed, and it was tough going as I slogged through the deadly combination of ice and slush. I had to concentrate very hard on my stride and making sure that my feet landed in the right place, to avoid slipping. It was in this precipitious situation, with my feet threatening to give out beneath me at any moment, that a car on Colonel By Drive honked at me! I looked to my left to see the occupants of a white Lexus waving at me!

Let me be perfectly clear: I do not know anyone who owns a white Lexus. What is more, I did not recognise those people in the car. Yet for some reason, they thought they recognised me.

Now, this is not so weird in and of itself, but what is truly uncanny is what happened only 10 minutes later. The scenario repeated itself! Running by the Bank Street Bridge, honked at by a Red Toyota Corolla, waved at by a car-ful of college-aged people, not one of whom I knew. Honestly, it was way too eerie.

I am not sure who it is I look like, but that person clearly has a lot of people on their facebook. It's not so bad to have yourself mistakenly recognised while you are out running - just so long as they don't stop me and ask for an autograph.

Lately, I have gone running and come back with a bit of a sore knee. I've also come back with chafed underarms, blisters on my feet, and numb legs, but it has been the sore knee that really grabbed my attention. I mean, that thing hurt.

Naturally, I did what any athlete in my situation would do: I ignored the pain. After all, the pain in my knee was just a badge of honour. It showed that I was tough. The stinging I felt when I walked down stairs was just proof that I was physically active. It was my initiation into the sport. The hobbling pain I felt while running was a test of my character. It was part of the experience. It was macho. It was a rite of passage. The pain was something to be carried with pride. The inflammation in my joints was proof of a better me.

The fact that my once confident stride had slowed to a mere shuffle was proof that I needed to start thinking differently about this injury.

I looked on the internet for some stretches that would help me alleviate my symptoms, and I started describing my pain to fellow runners. I told them that there was a stinging senstation on the outside of my right knee. I thought that I would just get some info on how to make better use of stretching to avoid such a senstation in the future. I was in the market for nothing more than advice. Instead, I got something much worse: I got a diagnosis.

I have ILIOTIBIAL BAND SYNDROME! Last week, it was nothing more than a sore knee - now it's a DISEASE! A disease with a complex name!!

In one fell swoop, I have gone from being a runner to being a patient. This is not a good situation. This is not what Plan A looked like! I am just going to have to make the best of it. Fortunately, there are some benefits to being stricken with Iliotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS).

First, is the really cool name: Iliotibial. Iliotibial! ILIOTIBIAL! That is never going to get old! It's like the verbal equivalent of popping bubble wrap. Iliotibial!

Second, it brings me another step closer to full initiation into the cult of running. I've already bought my running gear, run my first race, and used energy gels. Before I am a full fledged member of the informal--but very real--running cult, I still have to run a marathon, burn through a pair of shoes, and get an injury. I now have that last requirement taken care of, and my injury even has a convincing name. Before I got ITBS, I tried convincing other runners that I had survived the debilitating ravages of "Charley Horse", and they just weren't buying it.

Lastly, and most importantly, it forces me to learn a little more about taking proper care of a runner's body. I am going to have to learn and practise some more and better stretches, and in the long run (no pun intended), that can only be good for me. And to be perfectly honest, the symptoms virtually always disappear within a day or two, so I should be able to overcome this little hurdle with no problems. And now I can brag about having overcome an injury, too!

I'm out.