Where Did That Two Years Go?

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Everyone knows that in order to have a successful blog, you need to add content regularly. Apparently, I’ve been failing at that part – majorly. I fantasize about writing everyday – while I’m driving to the grocery store, while I wash the dishes, and especially when I’m trying to fall asleep. I’ve written so many blog posts in my head that have never made their way into the outside world. It’s time for me to get back on the metaphorical horse. So here it goes!

A lot has happened since I’ve last written on Run on Sentence. I’ve had changes in my career, I’ve moved into a new home that I’m absolutely in love with, and of course – I’ve had another beautiful baby girl who is about to turn a year old on Saturday. The time has literally been slipping through my fingers but apparently I get super sentimental when my babies are about to transition into toddlerhood. It seems to be the only time I can gather the courage to sit down and pour my heart out into words.

Baby Emma (or Emmasaurus as I like to call her) completed our family by emerging from my giant belly on April 9th of last year. She came into the world and immediately filled the room with light. Emma is a true ray of sunshine and she’s been smiling since the day she was born. Her calm demeanor acts as a window into her gentle soul – which I know she acquired from her Dad. This coming weekend, we’ll be throwing her a dinosaur themed birthday party so the people we love most can be there to celebrate with her as she begins the second year of her phenomenal life. I just know she’s gonna do great things. Maybe she’ll even be a marathoner someday!

Unfortunately, the arrival of Emma’s first birthday also marks the end of my year-long maternity leave and I’ll be starting back at work in a week from tomorrow. I’m excited to be working again but I can’t help but dwell on the heart wrenching fact that I’ll likely never get a full year off to spend with my babies again. We won’t be having any more children so the finality of ending this beautiful year is a heavy emotional load for me to carry. I’ve never been great at dealing with endings. In the back of my mind, I know that an ending to one thing simply means the beginning of something else exciting but actually closing the book on any chapter that I’ve loved has always made me sad. There won’t be any more Tuesday morning walks to the mailbox with my girls where Avery picks weeds from the side of the road to give to me. I won’t be playing Barbies in her bedroom at 2pm on a Thursday and I won’t get to spend lazy Friday afternoons pushing Emma on the swing or watching her explore her playroom. I know there’s still weekends and holidays but it’s simply not the same. Any mother knows exactly what I mean.

With all of that on the horizon, I’ve decided it’s time to get back into running. It has always been my main way of releasing my anxiety and stress and after finally getting out for a short 3k yesterday (after hibernating for most of the winter), I’ve got the taste of fresh air and sunshine on my mind again. There’s truly nothing better than a run on a cool spring day. I’ll be skipping my favorite race event (The Scotiabank Bluenose Marathon) this year because I’m attending a wedding in Victoria but I’ve decided to set my sights on the Valley Harvest Marathon event in the Fall. This event is easily my other favorite and I’m even more wound up about it this year because my husband has FINALLY agreed to take up running and participate in an actual race with me! Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I’ve literally been nagging him to do this with me for a decade. I’ve always had a hunch that if I could just get him to start, that he’d be hooked just like I was all those years ago at the young age of 23. Over the past few months, he reluctantly started running on the treadmill and yesterday was our first outdoor run together. It was literally a decade-long dream come true! The best part was that he didn’t even hate it! He actually enjoyed it – until this morning when he couldn’t use his legs. That’s okay though because if he’s anything like me, he’ll be craving the next run by tomorrow. I’ll be sure to provide an update on this exciting new adventure as the situation evolves and we continue to train together.

I promise it won’t be two years before you hear from me again. My daughters are growing and learning everyday and as a result, I’m growing and learning with them. My mind and my heart are both getting stronger. It’s time for my legs to get strong again too.

We’ll surely ‘run’ into each other here again soon. Ciao for now!

Andrea

Reflecting on 11 Months as Momma

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Wow! What a whirlwind! It feels like it was just yesterday that I sat down to write the post about my new baby girl. Now, as I write this, my 11 month old toddler is napping downstairs in her crib. It’s almost impossible to believe how quickly time has passed.

My tiny baby girl is now learning to walk, eats 3 solid meals a day and has started weaning from her Momma. I’ll soon be returning to my full time job and sending Avery to daycare 5 days each week. Some days, I simply can’t wrap my head around it all.

Motherhood has been nothing like I imagined while somehow, simultaneously being so much more wonderful than I’d dreamed. The sleepless nights were harder than I’d expected. The toll it took on my sanity has been a hard blow to deal with but my heart has never felt so full. Each new milestone and every accomplishment she has, no matter how tiny, feels monumental to me. Each smile warms my tired soul, and her reliance upon me for her every need is both beautiful and challenging. I never knew that a love of this magnitude existed. It’s all-consuming and I’ve learned so much about myself.

I’ve learned that I’m much more patient than I thought I was but I’ve also learned my limits. I’ve discovered that watching my husband be a Daddy makes me love him even more. While focusing on all of the beautiful challenges that parenthood consists of though, I’ve lost sight of who I am as an individual – who I am when I’m without my daughter and without the day-to-day responsibilities that I’ve so quickly become accustomed to. Before Avery, I was a super-fit, vegetarian running addict who loved to drink wine and spend time with friends. Becoming a Mom has distracted me from those pieces of myself and sometimes I wonder where that version of me drifted off to. I now eat meat regularly even though I don’t like to. I barely ever run and my gym membership has expired. In the place where all of those traits once stood though is a Momma bear who spends almost every moment of the day offering compassion, unconditional love, education, nutrition, and fun to the tiny little love of my life. I think it’s safe to say that having a family has changed me.

Now that my maternity leave is coming to an end and life is on the verge of returning to some version of ‘normal’, I’ve decided that it’s time to start putting myself back together, one piece at a time so I can continue to be a strong, positive influence as Avery enters her most impressionable years. I’m starting with exercise. Fitness has always been an essential part of my mental health care, and running has been the only outlet that helps me deal with life’s stress and anxiety in a healthy and rewarding way. If I want to be a role model for my baby girl, I need to look after my mind by looking after my body.

I’m starting by registering for a 10k and focusing on training. I don’t know where I’ll find the time but I can figure that out day by day as life continues to happen. I’m no longer in good physical shape and the journey back to lacing up for a 10k is going to be a tough one but I know I’ll be a much better, more present mother if I stay dedicated to the process and reach this goal for myself.

Being Avery’s mother has been the hardest job I’ve ever loved and the more she grows, the more insight I have into how strong, resilient, and loving I’ve been as her Momma. I think I’ve finally realized that motherhood isn’t about waiting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s about learning to enjoy the darkness, the twists, the turns, and the little patches of light that seep in through the cracks in the tunnel. Motherhood is difficult. But finding beauty in its challenges is the most important part.

Andrea

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A Whole New Chapter

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A lot has changed since my last post. Shortly after last year’s Bluenose Marathon, my husband and I decided to start a family. Now, almost a year later, we are parents to the most amazing 2 month old baby girl. We decided to call her Avery and her story (although comparable to the stories of most other new parents), is a special one. It’s special simply because it’s hers and ours and nobody else’s. The journey of how our family began belongs only to us and that makes it the most cherished story of our lives so far.

Avery began as just a thought, an idea. “What IF we decided to have a baby? What IF we took the plunge into parenthood?” It didn’t take long for that idea to manifest itself into a dream. A goal even. We wanted to be parents. Eventually, we came to the decision that we’d go for it. We decided that as soon as I checked running a marathon off my bucket list, we’d start prioritizing a family. A few days after I crossed the finish line last May, I was pregnant.

My pregnancy was pretty easy and uneventful. I had no health issues and our little baby was always healthy and right on track. We were extremely blessed because we got to spend the entirety of my pregnancy celebrating, decorating the nursery, shopping for adorable things, and taking photos of my ever-growing baby bump. It was blissful… aside from all the usual pregnancy symptoms like heart burn and utter exhaustion.

Finally, at 2:30 in the morning on February 20th, my contractions started. I was terrified. I knew we were physically ready – the nursery had been completed for months, the hospital bags were already packed and we’d read every book and watched every video that the experts told us to – but we definitely did not feel ready in that moment. I don’t think any about-to-be-parent ever truly does.

We arrived at the hospital at around 6am and this is when Avery’s story really began. The triage nurse suggested that we walk the hospital halls for a couple of hours to get things moving more quickly. I remember thinking she was nuts. I was in pain like I’d never felt before in my life (let’s not forget I’d run a marathon recently – I know pain!) and they wanted me to walk around for a couple of HOURS!? I survived for 45 minutes of very slow sauntering around the main floor before I couldn’t take it anymore. At this point, they tossed be in a warm bath and told me to “try that” for a while to ease the pain.

Another 2 hours later and I was finally moved to a delivery room and given an epidural. Nobody warns you in advance that the sheer act of getting the epidural is it’s own little piece of Hell. Trying to sit motionless, in a very specific position while having incredibly strong contractions every couple of minutes felt impossible. I remember thinking “it can’t get worse than this. It’s all down hill from here.” Man, oh man, was I wrong.

By 6:00 that night, we were still in the delivery room, I was still pushing, and Avery had still not arrived. I had been pushing for nearly 6 hours, had eaten next to nothing, and was running out of steam when a surgeon came in to the room with two medical students. This is when they told me that I’d have to deliver my baby girl by C-section. I was devastated, angry, and exhausted. I had skipped all the videos and reading materials about C-section births because “that would never happen to me. My pregnancy’s been perfect, so my birth will be too.” I remember crying the entire time they were prepping me for surgery. And crying all the way through the procedure. My daughter hadn’t even been born yet, and I’d already failed as a mother. I couldn’t even give birth to her like a “normal” woman. Because of me, she was going to have to be born in an operating room through a procedure that I knew absolutely nothing about. My head was spinning from fear, sadness, and sleep deprivation. This was not the birth I had planned for my precious girl.

During the operation, my husband stayed by my side. He maintained eye contact the entire time and said encouraging things. He felt my pain, I know he did. He’s always been a hugely empathetic man. The freezing that the doctors used didn’t work as well on me as it does on most people. Although I wasn’t in pain, I could still feel what was happening and the experience is one I’ll never forget. I was scared for the baby, scared for myself, and scared for what the next few days would bring us. The cocktail of drugs that was pumping through my body caused me to shake and I developed a fever. It was the most afraid and the most helpless I’d ever felt in my life.

Sometime around 8pm, in the midst of feeling sorry for myself,  I heard the tiny cry of a newborn and for an instant, I forgot that I was shaking. I forgot the pain, the bright lights of the operating room and the voices of the doctors. I forgot that I was lying on an operating table and I forgot about the 6 hours of pushing. But I’ll never forget that sound. When I heard Avery’s tiny, helpless voice cry out for the first time, it was elevating. It was a feeling of euphoria that only other mothers can understand. But it was quickly replaced again by sadness and defeat. I couldn’t see my baby girl from behind the curtain they had drawn across my body for the surgery. I couldn’t reach out and touch her. I didn’t get to witness her first few moments in this great big world. I just listened, shaking and crying behind a curtain while my husband cut the umbilical chord. I remember desperately wanting to see her face, to hold her, to help her stop crying. I wanted to be her mom.

After a few minutes that felt  more like hours to me, a nurse brought Avery over to me. She laid her gently on my chest and held her there while my useless arms continued to shake. I tried to will my arms to reach up and hold her, but they couldn’t. I had no strength left and the drugs had taken over. For the next 3 hours, we were in recovery. My husband sat in a rocking chair at my bedside and held our beautiful girl while I got poked and prodded with needles and tubes and injections of God knows what. “I want to hold her” was the only thing running though my mind.

Several hours after her birth, Avery was finally in my arms and I was not letting go. Now 1am, our family (who had been in the waiting room all day and all evening), got to catch a quick glimpse of her as we were wheeled in my bed from the recovery room to a private room where we would spend the next 4 days. After 23 hours without eating, I ordered a feast and spent the rest of the night watching Avery sleep and holding her when she woke. I wasn’t able to get up so I relied heavily on my husband in those first few days to look after her and to bring her to me in my bed. From there though, it got better. Each day got a little easier until, on the 3rd day, I started walking again. On the 4th day we came home.

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Now, almost 9 weeks later, I am finally feeling human enough that I’m thinking about running again. I’ve only just started taking walks in the mornings and I still don’t feel nearly as strong as I was before I got pregnant. But I’m well on my way and I plan to enter into a 5km race in September. I’ve gotta start somewhere, right?

Although my birth experience wasn’t a very positive one while it was happening, I now look back on it fondly because without that experience, I don’t think that I’d be as mentally strong as I am now for my baby. If I could handle all of that, I know that I can handle anything that motherhood throws at me. Avery is the light of my life and I can’t wait to see each and every chapter unfold in the story of her own, precious little life.

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Cheers!

One proud momma.

 

Finally Writing about the Marathon that I Finally Ran

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When I ran my first 5k race, I had no idea that running would become my passion. That 5k quickly turned into a 10k which then morphed into a half marathon, after which I declared that a full marathon would be impossible and I would definitely never attempt one. Of course, I was lying to myself. Deep down, I wanted to do it.

So, in the Fall of 2017, I made the decision to start training for a full marathon. At first it seemed easy. “No big deal! 15km isn’t very far when you’ve got a few half marathons behind you!” Gradually, as my mileage built up, so did my fear. Before I knew it, I was back to “I can’t do a marathon! It’s too hard!” Fortunately, I had my amazing husband, family and friends standing behind me to push me through my self-doubt and the difficult winter training months.

My husband would follow me on my  long runs (from the warmth of the car) to make sure that I stayed safe and to act as a mobile water station that was there whenever I needed him. He spent countless hours doing this and never complained about spending his Sunday mornings on the side of the road in the car with a book and a large supply of energy gels and water bottles. Aside from my own hard work and training, he is the #1 reason I was able to make it to the start line of the 2018 Bluenose Marathon in Halifax.

Before I knew it, I was registered for the big day. I was officially going to attempt a marathon. I still didn’t think I could do it. The days, and the training runs kept rolling by and in the blink of an eye, it was race day. My nerves were incredible. I hadn’t slept much the night before and I was still filled with doubt. “Look at these other runners! They’re all athletes! I can’t do what they do!”

The morning of the race was wet and cold. A typical Halifax day. My shoes and socks were wet before the gun even went off but that didn’t stop the adrenaline. I’ll never forget how emotional I felt as I stepped over the start line of my first ever full marathon and was officially about to become a marathoner. I knew I would probably be one of the last to finish if I managed to finish at all, and I was totally okay with it. I was just so ecstatic to be taking my first few steps in the race I’d trained for for 8+ months, and dreamed of for even longer.

It didn’t take long to fall into a comfortable pace and I found myself running side by side with a lady in her 60’s who was also running her first marathon. We ran the first half of the race together, leaving each other and catching up when we needed to and keeping each other motivated as the kilometers rolled by. We headed across the McDonald Bridge to Dartmouth, toured around a lake, and headed back across the bridge to Halifax where we made tracks for Point Pleasant Park. There were two stages of this race when I thought I wasn’t going to make it – Point Pleasant Park was the first. I had to run two laps up a predominately uphill route on the gravel trails through the park. By the time I was on my second lap, I was walking. My wet shoes had taken a toll on my feet and I could feel raw skin in several spots. My legs were tired. I knew I was pretty much in last place at this point (there were a very small number of people still behind me) and I was exhausted. “So this is what the ‘Wall’ feels like” I remember thinking. I fought back tears and kept trudging forward. There were too many loved ones waiting for me at the finish line to give up now.

My shoes sloshed onward and I was now attempting to complete the race by running when I could and speed-walking when I needed to….which was a lot. On Lower Water Street, I spotted my Mom standing on the side of the road, cheering for me. I cried. She ran with me for a short moment and then I kept sauntering along. I hit the wall again shortly after when I large blister that had formed on the side of my heel exploded and started bleeding. It hurt like Hell and I could barely walk on it. I remember thinking that I needed to quit. Or take my shoes off. Or eat a burger. Or drop dead. Instead, I kept going. I was completely alone through this part of the course. I didn’t see a water station, or any other runners or volunteers. I questioned whether I was even going the right way. I was, thank God.

One of the most motivating moments happened for me when I was only a few kilometers away from the finish line. A complete stranger who was out walking her dog, joined me for a few minutes and kept me company. She encouraged me to keep going and that the worst was over. I believed her. I knew I was looking pretty rough when a police officer who was helping to secure the route for runners asked me if I was okay. “I’m fine!” I remember saying, “But I might be dying!” We laughed and he followed me for a bit on his motorcycle. EVERYONE along the route was so supportive. Nobody cared that I was slow. Everyone just cheered me on like I was an Olympian about to win a gold medal.

Finally, I saw it. The last downhill stretch. All I had to do was jog down a long hill and turn a corner and the finish line would be in sight. I’d made it. My family and friends were all there screaming my name and helping me get through those last few steps. I was done. I had finished the race in just a few minutes short of 6 hours. They placed a medal around my neck. I cried some more. I hugged everyone, thanked everyone, and then ate a banana. It was finished! I was a marathoner. And I had made it to the finish line with only a few minutes to spare before they started to tear down the race.

It was a moment of pain and pure bliss that I will never forget. 8 months of hard work, plus 6 hours of sloshing shoes and blisters all came together and my dream had come true. I have no idea why it took me so long to get around to writing about my experience, but even months later, I still beam with pride when I think about what I accomplished…and I’m reminded of it daily when I look down at my feet which still have not fully healed.

See you next year, Bluenose Marathon! Perhaps for just a 10k?

 

Volunteering Instead of Lacing Up

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Today was the 26th annual Moose Run in my community of Eastern Passage, Nova Scotia. This 25km road race follows a beautiful and challenging course along the shores of the Atlantic ocean with views that no runner could possibly take for granted. When the race organizers (who also manage the local run club I belong to) posted on Facebook that they were looking for some volunteers to help at the event, I decided it would be a great way to take a step back from training while taking some time to learn what really goes on behind the scenes at these types of events to make them go off without a hitch.

For the first 25 years of the Moose Run, it was organized by a couple of dedicated community members who decided to retire from the event and pass the torch to a new Race Director for its 26th year. This race was far different from any other that I’ve attended and everything about it seemed a bit retro (but in the greatest way!). Registration opened at 8:30am and there was no advanced registration online. Each runner was asked to fill out a paper form and once it was completed, they were provided with their bib. By 9:30 the lineup was really long but nobody seemed to mind. The Moose Run has always been a ‘pay what you can’ event and proceeds from the event directly support local charities which always puts everyone in a good mood.

When I arrived at the local rec centre (the starting point for the race), I was assigned to be one of 3 timers who were in charge of tracking all of the runners as they crossed the finish line after their 25km journeys. The other 2 volunteers were each provided with an electronic device that looked similar to a 1980’s debit machine and contained a small roll of white paper. When the race started, they started the devices which kept track of the time and they clicked a big yellow button each time a runner crossed the makeshift finish line (a row of orange pylons). My job was to write down the corresponding bib number of each finisher so that they could go back later and compare each finishing time from the ancient time tracking devices with the corresponding bib number to figure out the finishing time for each runner. I’m just glad I wasn’t the person that had to go through all of that!

At the end of the race, participants were provided with hot coffee and chili from Tim Horton’s and I was provided with a new sense of appreciation for race organizers and the people who regularly volunteer at community events. I almost got emotional when I watched the former race director (who is not a young man!) cross the finish line as a participant for what was probably the first time at an event he organized for a quarter of a century. I felt excited when I saw somebody get a personal best and was wowed when one runner (who was one of the last runners on course) skipped the finish line saying “My Garmin doesn’t say 25km yet!” and continued down the road to return a few minutes later to finally cross the finish line. I don’t think I’d be that dedicated or honest!

All in all, it was fun to volunteer, to connect with some other local runners and to watch the successes of 237 individuals as they all aimed for the same goal: to make it to the end of the race before the coffee and free food ran out!

Congrats to all the Moose Runners today!

Cheers,

A tired volunteer

It’s Like Running on the Beach

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Today’s run was just like running on the beach! Except instead of sand, I was ankle deep in snow. And instead of sunshine, I got pelted in the face with ice pellets that stung my eyes. And instead of shorts, I was wearing multiple layers and my windproof pants….But other than that, it was great!

Training in the winter is difficult. Last night, I spent the evening relaxing and flipping through the latest issue of Canadian Running Magazine, searching for inspiration to carry me through today’s long run. I was aiming to complete a distance of 22.5km. I went to bed early and got a great night’s sleep and woke up at 7:30 to get ready for the distance. Unfortunately, I looked out the window when I got up to make breakfast. I should not have done that. Based on the amount of snow coverage on the ground outside, I estimated that the snow had started about 30 minutes earlier while I was still snuggled warmly in bed. Perhaps I should have stayed there?

After gagging down a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit (not a big fan of oatmeal, but I’m a big fan of it’s ability to fuel my runs), I got dressed and eventually headed out the door with the goal of completing my training run before the snow got too deep. I wore my favorite Running Room RX winter running pants and the most ridiculous head gear that literally makes me look like a ninja but completely protects me from the elements (sometimes you have to sacrifice beauty for functionality and pray that nobody sees you.)

A couple of kilometers into my snowy wonderland journey, I saw that The Moose Loop Running Group (a team of locals that I sometimes run with in the warmer months) was gathered in the parking lot at Fisherman’s Cove, a small fishing village and tourist attraction in my neighborhood.  ‘I wonder what they’re doing out here in a blizzard’ I thought to myself when I saw them. The team called out to me and we exchanged waves from a distance but I was on too much of a role to stop and see what they were up to so I trudged on through the snow and left them behind me.

The run got difficult quickly. If you’ve ever run in the snow, you’d know that it is beautiful, serene, calming, and completely exhausting. You’re forced to use extra muscle power to avoid slipping and to hammer through the snow that surrounds your feet. It’s hard. And it’s wonderful. To add to the atmosphere of my beautiful winter run, I recently subscribed to Spotify and created an amazing playlist filled with upbeat songs. I have no idea how I ever lived before without a subscription to Spotify. With thousands of songs to choose from and new content being added constantly, I’ll never have to listen to the same songs for months on end when I run like I was doing before.

Around the 10km mark I started to realize that I wasn’t going to complete the grueling distance. My thighs were feeling pretty spent and my feet were soaked through and starting to blister. It was time to call it quits. So, I called my super hero husband who always comes to get me when I run too far from home to walk back, and at the 11km mark I stopped to wait for him to scoop me up into the warm car.

Normally, I would have been livid, disappointed, and feeling really defeated for only completing half of my goal distance, but today it felt different. I felt proud for accomplishing what I did considering we were in the middle of a snowstorm. I thought ‘look at me! I’m the only one on the sidewalk! The only one brave enough to come out here like a ninja and get my run done!’ The heated seats in our car were a welcomed blessing by the time Tyler arrived to get me as my body temperature had started to drop and my clothes and shoes were soaked. The warmth of the car felt like heaven to me.

After a hot shower and a hot meal, I checked out Facebook to see if I could figure out the reasoning for such a great turn out at The Mooose loop Running Group on such a snowy day. It didn’t take long before I found a post to the group’s Facebook page. One of the creators of the Moose Loop Running Group was celebrating the completion of his goal to run every day for 365 days in honor/support of a charity that was close to his heart. The team was there to cheer him on as he completed his final run on his 365th day. I couldn’t help but feel proud of him and of myself for getting out there today. I also felt a bit guilty that I didn’t stop to say hi when I passed them but at the time I hadn’t known that today was such a big day for him!

The running community in Eastern Passage is sensational. A truly supportive group of like-minded people who all share a passion for running. I look forward to the summer months when my marathon is behind me and I’ll have the time to re-join the group for their weekly running meets. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even take a run on the beach this summer.

Happy Striding!

Andrea

 

 

A Few of My Favorites

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It’s hard to believe that I’ve actually run enough races to have a list of favorites, but somehow, over the course of the past few years, that’s become my reality – and I think that’s pretty exciting! I’m feeling a bit nostalgic tonight so here is a list of my favorite races in the Maritimes and all the reasons why I love them.

  1. Scotiabank Bluenose Marathon – This one will always be my favorite because it’s where I first fell in love with running. The Bluenose is by far the biggest race in the Halifax area and the crowds of spectators and the ‘running is for everyone’ attitude that the race promotes really strikes a chord with me. The Bluenose is a weekend long event that includes a fitness expo with tons of great vendors and you can choose to run any of the usual distances ranging from a 5k all the way up to a marathon. They also have a 2km fun run for kids which I think is a fantastic way to get the kiddos hooked on running from an early age. Over the past few years I have completed the 5k (my first ever road race), the 10k, and the half marathon distances. This year I’ve decided that there’s really only 1 distance left to tackle and I’m totally going to do it!

    2017 Bluenose 10K

     

    2016 Bluenose Half Marathon

     

  2. Maritime Race Weekend – I LOOOOVE this event! It takes place in my neighborhood of Eastern Passage and is always such a blast. The whole weekend is pirate themed and lots of runners get really into the theme by dressing up in pirate attire for the race. The swag and race medals are also my favorite and some of my everyday gear that I wear (my hat, buff, and some of my shirts) are from Maritime Race Weekend. The start line for this race (they too, have all of the various distances that any major race event offers) is nestled in the midst of the cutest fishing village you’ll ever see and the scenery on the race routes is breathtaking. I missed the 2017 event because it happened to be on the same day as my wedding but I will definitely be lined up for one of the distances at the 2018 event. I already can’t wait for this one! Did I mention that they give you free beer when you’ve finished the race?

    Some swag from 2015 Maritime Race Weekend

     

    2016 Event
  3. Dartmouth Natal Day 10k Road Race – The annual Natal Day race is a classic and has been happening in Dartmouth since 1907. There’s a real community vibe at this event and you can choose to run a 2 mile or a 6 mile race. Because it’s not a big, weekend-long event with thousands of entrants, it’s also pretty affordable and it’s a lot of fun! P.S – The Natal Day Road Race attracts quite a few of the local elite runners and it’s always fun to see them finish so far ahead of the pack.

    2017 Natal Day Race

     

  4. The Valley Harvest Marathon – I adore Fall. I love the leaves, I love pumpkins, and I love the Valley Harvest Marathon in Wolfville, Nova Scotia – which also happens to fall on Thanksgiving weekend each year. This event is so much fun! The Fall colors in the valley are worth the drive out there and the race route is beautiful. I’ve completed both the 10k distance and the half marathon at the Valley Harvest and both routes were gorgeous. Their swag is also great. The medals are always creative and beautiful and instead of the usual race swag, I’ve received a bright yellow running jacket and 2 cozy fleece blankets in my swag bags over the years. The blankets are my favorite and are such a great swag idea for a Fall running event. Cross that finish line and then cozy up under a fleece blanky with a free chocolate milk. Life doesn’t get any better than that at a finish line!

    2017 Medal!

There are lots of other great races in the Halifax area too, but those 4 are my absolute favorites. Honorable mention should also be given to the super affordable MEC Race Series and to the free Mac Pass Mile race which is a 1 mile (give or take) race across the MacDonald bridge from Halifax to Dartmouth.

P.S – Did I mention that I ran 17km on my training run yesterday? Definitely the farthest I’ve ever run without receiving a medal and a free banana at the end of it. I did get a hot bath and a sandwich though!

Cheers until next time!

Andrea

When the Going Gets Rough

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I think anyone who has ever tried to accomplish something significant in their lives can say that there are many speed bumps along the way. When it comes to running – for me, winter is a big one. I have been following along with a fairly strict training plan in preparation for the Bluenose Marathon in May and on Sunday morning, when I woke to do my weekly long run, absolutely everything went wrong.

I set my alarm for 6:30am (which is super early for a Sunday morning in the dead of winter) and headed to the kitchen where I ate a carb-heavy breakfast of oatmeal and an english muffin in preparation for the 17.5km distance ahead of me. I bundled up in my new Running Room RX winter tights (the windproof panels on the thighs are so worth the money!), grabbed my earphones and headed out the door feeling rather upbeat about what I was going to accomplish before most people were even awake. It was all down hill from there.

I got about 5 minutes from home when I realized that I’d forgotten my water belt which also contained the Gu Gel that was supposed to get me through the second half of the trek. So, I turned around and headed home to get the belt. No big deal, right? A few moments later, I was back on track and headed to the end of my subdivision where I usually transition from my warm up walk into a run. But when I reached the sidewalk, it was an absolute mess from the wet winter weather we’d been having lately. I expected there to be some icy patches on the sidewalks but I didn’t quite expect this:

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‘How on earth is anyone supposed to safely run on a sidewalk that resembles a hockey arena?’ I thought to myself. But the runner in me said to keep going and give it my best shot. So I did. I ran for 5 feet when the sidewalk was clear and waddled, slipped, and slid where the sidewalk was slippery. After 3km, I decided it wasn’t worth a broken ankle and I made the decision to head for home. I was more than a little pissed off that Mother Nature could have such disregard for my Sunday morning run plans.

Once I turned around and headed for home, I saw something coming towards me down the sidewalk. I knew right away that it was a skid steer that was out salting the very sidewalks that I just spent 3km trying not to break my ankle on. For some reason, this enraged me. Why couldn’t they have salted the sidewalk BEFORE I needed to run!? By now, I was cold, angry, and frustrated with the whole experience so I hurried home, slammed the door and teared up. “Today was supposed to be my long run!” I yelled to my husband who was still half asleep in bed. “The weather completely ruined my day!” He didn’t seem nearly as distraught by this as I was. Perhaps he is just too familiar with my over-reactions when things don’t go my way?

After a hot shower and a cup of coffee to calm my nerves, things started to look up. My Dad invited us to go skating at the Halifax Oval that afternoon and we went to lunch first where he and my stepmom treated me to a belated birthday meal and a beautiful card. It was about time something went right in my day! By the time I had been on the ice at The Oval for an hour, I had almost completely forgotten about my rough morning and really ended up enjoying my day.

The lesson I learned? Try not to get too bent out of shape about things I can’t control. Enjoy the small stuff and know that in order to make any major progress – running related or otherwise – I’m gonna have to maneuver around a few obstacles and try to make the best of the journey.

Until next time!

Andrea

“Blue Monday” Wasn’t Blue for Me!

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It’s no secret that The Bluenose Marathon is my favorite race of the year and it’s also the event where I plan to run my first 42.2km race this year! So imagine my excitement today when they posted this on the event’s Facebook page:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Blue Monday” is known as the saddest day of the year for most people and is caused by the conclusion of the holiday season, paired with the long winter ahead and the freezing cold temperatures outside. But the only “blue” that I saw today was the hope of a swag prize from the Bluenose!

I have been following a fairly strict training plan for the last couple of months in preparation for the big race and yesterday, on my 16km run – I surprised myself with my results for the first time. Outside of running in actual half marathon events, 16km is the farthest I have ever gone on a training run and I spent the day feeling super proud of myself – especially once I looked at my average pace on Runkeeper (the ap I use to track my runs).  So naturally, when the Bluenose put out a call to comment on what keeps you happy today, I told them about yesterday’s success! I was pumped when they replied to my comment and called me a superstar! I can guarantee that comment will give me the motivational boost  I need to get out there for my next run in these cold temperatures. Now if I could just win the prize!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s Get Acquainted!

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Hi there! My name is Andrea and I’m an ordinary runner from Halifax, Nova Scotia where I live with my husband, my greyhound, and my two cats. Eleven weeks ago I started training for my first full marathon and yesterday the idea for ‘Run On Sentence’ was born. The idea came to me while I was running of course! I’ve been passionate about writing ever since I can remember and my love of running was established in 2013 when a friend invited me to run the 5k at the annual Bluenose Marathon in our hometown.

This blog will follow the remainder of my training journey and my day-to-day life and will be a great outlet for me to brag about all of those long runs I’ll be doing (I’m pretty sure my hubby is getting tired of hearing about it)! My goal race is the 15th annual Bluenose Marathon on May 20th, 2018 and I have been busting my butt to make sure I make it to the start line.

My love of running started as a one time ‘attempt’ at a 5k and has grown into a complete addiction over time. I’m that gal that you see out for a run when it’s -20 degrees outside and everyone else is snuggled up at home, keeping warm. Since 2013, I have run countless 5k races, a large handful of 10k events and 4 half marathons. I’m pretty sure I’m ready to tackle the big dream distance (or at least I will be once I’ve completed my training plan!)

In September 2017, I married Mr. Right and with the stress of the wedding over with, I decided it was time to really focus on my running goals and my dream of crossing the finish line at the end of a 42.2km race. I hope you stop back to my little piece of the internet to follow along with the daily grind that is the life of an average runner training for a not-so-average distance.

Cheers!

Andrea

2017 Natal Day Race – Dartmouth, NS

2016 Bluenose Half Marathon

2016 Shubie Classic 5K

Training Run – Summer 2017

Canada Day Race 2017. My best cheerleader!