When I showed up for a run with a new pair of socks the other day, my favourite running partner, Tanya, had a good laugh.  It wasn’t because they were bright fuchsia either – it was because they were right foot and left foot specific.  Unlike shoes which hold their shape, it is a little harder to tell them apart, so the manufacturer conveniently labelled the left sock “L” and the right sock (you guessed it!) “R”.
This is only funny because both Tanya and I both believe we have left-right confusion.   While I will admit I haven’t been able to find a study to prove this condition actually exists, there are plenty of surveys out there that estimate anywhere from 15-20% of the population experience this some or all of the time.

To those of you in the rest of the general population I’m sure that sounds crazy.  You learn quite young that your left hand makes the L, right?  I mean…correct?  I know this!  I know the hand with the wedding ring is my left, the hand I write with is my right; my passenger sits to my right in the car, and right is the direction I am allowed to turn on a red.  Yet somehow, when someone says to go left or right, or when I am giving directions, I really have to think about it before I make the turn or give the instruction.  (Does this happen to you?  Try this little test!)

Back when Tanya and I first started running together, we used to verbalize the turns.  An instruction of “Left here,” would invariably result in us banging into one another, followed by a “you said left!”  “that is left!”  “no it isn’t! It’s right!  Right? No…” “wait…what?”  This is only exacerbated as our brain cells go numb during a long run.

So when now we’ve developed a fool-proof system.  The person who mapped the route just points when we get to a turn.  This has multiple benefits – for example we don’t have to stop talking when it is time to turn, and we avoid that awkward banging into each other thing.

You’ll be glad to know that I get my lefts and rights…um…correct when given the time to think before reacting.  This means I get my socks (and shoes!) on the correct feet, so I can pass on Tanya’s suggestion of getting a sock-matching “L” and “R” tattooed on my feet!

Just for kicks I wore my Garmin Forerunner 201 GPS to mow the lawn (I know for a fact I am not the only person to ever do this!).  I hit start when I plugged it in, and didn’t stop it until I was completely finished.  The stats were pretty funny:

1.66km in 51:23, for an agonizing 30:59 min/km pace.

Now when you consider that I went around two trees, then back to get the cord around, take a water break, get around the shed and stop to shoo away a toad, that’s not so bad, is it?  I wonder how I’d do with a reel mower…

Another good reason to run!

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQ6AfmfgqnM

Okay, okay, you’re right.  I will concede one point about the weather:  it is hard to plan runs when we’ve had so many thunderstorms.  Running when there is lightning is dangerous; I won’t do it, and will boldly diagnose anyone as crazy who thinks it is a good idea.

It is a particular challenge to plan a long run when there’s a chance of thunderstorms.  Keep in mind when I say this, I am not talking about taking stupid risks.  I am talking about when you see on the Weather Network that there’s a chance of storms, but nothing is happening, the sky looks okay, and you’re debating whether to cancel when there’s just as good a chance that nothing will happen at all.

Here is how we handled it this past Saturday when that was the case:

• We assessed the risk:  looked at the forecast, looked at the weather, and decided that it was safe to start out.

• I had a bail-out lined up:  I had my husband on standby for a hasty pick up should I call from my cell phone.  He has done this for us once so far this summer, and it saved our skins!

• We altered the route:  I live in a small town and typically prefer long runs on country roads, but this time we went from one end of town to the other 4 times on 4 different streets.  Then we turned around and retraced our steps.  That’s right, we covered the town nearly end-to-end 8 times.  I wouldn’t want to do it every week, but the advantage was that we always had a driveway to dart up should we find ourselves in an unsafe situation.  No running in the middle of nowhere, being the tallest thing around with no safety net.  Besides, we really got a good look at some people’s gardening handiwork!

• and if worse came to worse, of course, we would call it off.

So thanks to some careful planning and flexibility, we were able to get it done, and I was very happy with that.

In the end, however, if we hadn’t, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.  It’s a lot better to get to the start line one long run short of a training plan than to be hit by lightning and not get there at all!

The season usually starts in April, somewhere near Easter, definitely after most or all of the snow has melted.  It lasts through the spring, and you sometimes get stragglers here and there throughout the summer.  If you run in town, or otherwise cover a lot of suburban sidewalk, you might have guessed it:  hopscotch.

I’ve seen my fair share of hopscotch courts on my runs.  There are the traditional, 10-square schoolyard courts, not-so-traditional 10-square designs, and then there are the creative ones.  Usually decorated with chalk hearts, stars, initials, faces, and names, these courts vary in length and design.  One of my favourites was from last spring; it just went on and on, about 30 squares in total, each row progressively smaller and more crooked.  I’ve been known to hop through a court on a run from time to time, but I couldn’t have hopped through that one if I’d wanted to, given that whole rule about not touching the lines with your feet.

Last week, I saw my most challenging (and oddly hilarious) hopscotch court yet.  Each box (or set of two side by side boxes) was one panel of the sidewalk.  While this court gets an “A” for its perfectly straight lines and uniformity of box sizes, it could probably only be properly played by basketball players and circus performers.

Apparently hopscotch is serious stuff.  According to Internet rumour, it started out as a military exercise by the Romans in ancient Britain, with courts 100 yards long.  Soldiers would do the courses loaded with packs to improve their footwork.  It became a children’s game when kids, emulating the soldiers, made their own courts, and eventually, their own rules, and the game spread across Europe.   In more modern times, there is even a category in the Guinness World Records for fastest game of hopscotch.

That got me thinking: maybe there are some benefits to runners.  I mean, maybe runners don’t really need to focus on accuracy, per se – mercifully, the “in bounds” area is pretty large.  But it could be pretty good plyometrics,  don’t you think?  Maybe I should go for a run before it rains and washes away the last few courts!