Learning to not hate running

In May 2010, I ran the 'Brussels 20K' - a 20km race through the city. It was a major feat for me.
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This was my 'before' message:

Dear friends,

As you may or may not already know about me, although I do like to be active, especially if it involves being outdoors: cycling, hiking, kayaking, swimming, etc. - I don't like running. To be honest, I've always thought of it as a bit of a mild form of torture. However...always open to having my mind changed about things if it's possible that I'm wrong, and believing that it might in fact be possible to enjoy this if I tried, I slowly started to try it out.

It began a couple of years ago - in Sudan, of all places (if you're going to torture yourself why not do it in sweltering heat to add to the challenge??) with a couple of good friends, quiet Juba mornings, and a little energy. When I moved to Brussels, I decided to see if I could keep it up on my own, and concluded that while the running part still wasn't that fun, it was a fantastic excuse to get myself to the forest at least once a week, escape the city, inhale some green and let my mind wander - and I got some exercise to boot.

My kind of place to be.

Time passed...and some months later, my colleagues decided to convince me that I should try to run the Brussels Half Marathon. I laughed. But with some significant coercion, the added twist that I could do it for a cause, I began to consider the idea, and an inkling of faith that I might actually be able to do it began to grow in my mind.

And thus - I am now officially registered for the Brussels 20K on May 30th. I'm doing it as a fundraiser for an organisation called Retrak (www.retrak.org) which runs projects to assist street children in Uganda, Ethiopia and Kenya - inspiring them to find a viable alternative to life on the street. Having spent a summer working with Kenyan street kids, this is a cause I fully support - and also have good friends who know the organisation well and vouch for the good work they do.

I've been training for the last couple of months - and although I got rather intimidated with training plans filled with jargon and mathematics, and try to stay away from treadmills and gadgets, preferring to run in the real world - I have seen a lot of improvement, and do now have a little log book, and a pedometer and heartrate monitor on loan... that's serious! I'm not promising any time. My goals are simple: Finish the race. Learn to run without hating it. Raise some money for street kids. Do it with joy.

To the trail!

Kendrah

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Time passed. Trails were trodden, shoe laces were tied, heart-rate monitor manuals were read, training plans were studied (and forgotten), forests were enjoyed, a body shouted angrily at a mind claiming that it was being tortured, companionship with fellow runners was enjoyed, serious exercise became a normal part of my routine....It wasn't always pleasurable, but it was good.

And then: race day arrived. (Oh the fear & trembling!)

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The 'after' message:


Dear friends/fans/believers in my humble abilities,

One week has passed since I survived the Brussels 20K run, and I owe you all a report on my achievement. Well…..

I did it!! I did it!! 20 whopping kilometers!! And – what’s even more amazing – I enjoyed it! I achieved my primary aim! It wasn’t quite as grueling as I thought it would be…I had the energy I needed to carry me through…the supporters along the way and bands and drummers were fun and encouraging…the solidarity amongst the runners was uplifting…the weather was grey, but actually perfect to run in…and I did it!! And get this – I’m even considering the idea of doing it again and doing it even better!

As you can tell by the volume of exclamation marks, I’m really quite happy about my achievement. - And I managed it in 2hrs 9min and 34sec, which was very nicely in my rough target range – and I’m quite pleased with it. (Attached is a photo of me glowing in my post-run victory, and another of me in action – just to provide you with a little proof.) Now I know many of you have said ‘I told you so’, or ‘I knew you’d be fine’ – but I was genuinely surprised that it wasn’t utter torture and that I had it in me. So, thank you for believing in me even when I don’t. I guess “that’s what friends are for”, as they say.

And – more importantly than my wee Sunday jog…there are a bunch of street kids in Kenya and Uganda and Ethiopia whose lives are going to be impacted in part due to the donations many of you have made to Retrak on my behalf. With all of your generous contributions, I was able to raise a total of €821! Merci, merci! And others provided words of wisdom, training tips and encouragement.

I’m humbled by the support and encouragement I receive from each of you – in this part of my life and many others.

With love,

Kendrah

Action - high-5's to my supporters!

Victory

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

Allow me to complete my celebration of one full year in a land with 4 distinct and (in my un-weather-prejudiced-opinion) equally wonder-filled seasons. The final act: Winter....with strange and magical white fluff, winter sports on things that slide, walks through mysterious mists and steamy breath on the air, times for being cozy, festive & jolly, and hibernating in-doors....and more.

My Belgian winter passed happily.

There was preparation for Christmas, and welcoming the season of advent:

...with the lighting of candles in my hand-made advent wreath,

...following the transformation of our living room into a wreath-making workshop;

the opening of window #1 on my first ever chocolate advent calendar (I was SO excited!!);

...and the baking of gingerbread cookies,

...with the accompanying transformation of our living room into a gingerbread sweatshop,

...with the help of many little 'elves' to roll & cut & decorate,

...and the unfortunate aftermath of our living room.


There was enjoyment of Brussels looking all cozy and twinkly for the season:

...with lights strung,

...and Christmas markets with mulled wine,

...with skating rinks;

...with antique caroussels that had not only horses, but all kinds of other animals and strange creatures. The coolest caroussels I had ever seen. This one with an ostrich to sit on,

...or perhaps you prefer an armadillo with spectacles?

...or a sea horse or a big-lipped fish? ...Oh the magic!

...the shops filled with scrumptious treasures;

...the Grand Place dressed in a dazzling display of lights;

...and even Brussels' most treasured monument, our rediculous peeing boy, was dressed for the season in a full St. Nicholas costume. A fitting surreal Belgian image: statue dressed in fake beard and preist's hat; peeing.


A visit of a friend brought occasion to do a wee road trip to a nearby city:

I am by the I.

The wonderful land of the sacred bicycle.

The inspiration for our trip was to meet a friend passing through the Amsterdam airport for a few hours for breakfast and a game of 'Take 2' (speed scrabble);

...and while it was a long and satisfactory breakfast, and a rollicking game of Take 2 (though I lost miserably for the first time in a long time), we decided to stay a while longer, saw Anne Frank (above)...and wandered the canals.


Back in Brussels, even in winter the city can pull off a festival or two worth taking in:

This one was my favourite. A free art exhibit, 'by the people for the people'. Art by local artists, open for free to the general public - and available for bartering. At the door everyone gets a pad of post-it notes. Then you wander about, looking at the art - pausing to snack on a croissant or piece of whole-grain bread with berry jam in one of the free snack rooms like this - and when you find a piece of art you like (or don't), you leave a sticky-note comment, or place a bid on it (for example: 2 days stay in my cottage, or 10 English language lessons in exchange for your painting). Fantastic! I loved reading the 'viewer feedback' and seeing other people's perspectives on the art we usually view isolated in our own minds.

A massive miniature doll collection in the exhibit.

And on the streets you find the occasional public art as well. This is a favourite of mine next to an important monument. The 'trees' on the left are made of recycled wooden fruit boxes: former trees, turned into boxes for fruit, turned into trees...which can't bear fruit.

Winter in Europe also has it's down & difficult sides:

...long grey gloomy periods where you're always chilled to the bone whether you're inside or out and you feel a bit like this pigeon: sitting in a puddle with your feathers all ruffled. You wear your scarf and your long underwear indoors and you succumb to trying out fingerless gloves at your computer (which doesn't work).

...and then one day, you notice something black at the edge of your bedroom wall...and pull your cupboard away from the wall to find: GASP!... a mould colony;

...but on other rare and fantastic days, the sun shines through your bedroom window, and you relocate your furniture so you can sit directly in its path and glory in it.


And on other days...on this very special and unusual Belgian winter...there was snow! Lots of snow! So much snow that I had to forget that I was Canadian and it really wasn't that much snow, and pretend along with all my neighbours in the city who really truly believed that it was a gigantic amount of snow - a crisis, in fact - a reason to miss work, to stay tucked away safely at home, to drive terribly and with great fear, to marvel:

....but it was beautiful;

...And transformed my garden into a marshmallow farm;

...and I made snowmen (mini ones);

...and one Saturday, convinced some brave friends (some first-timers) to accompany me on a cross-country skiing expedition (being the good Canadian that I am, and promoting such snow-related activities);

...and speaking of being a good Canadian - check out those mittens! That's right, getting into the Canadian Olympic spirit...imagining myself in the biathalon;

...which brings me to the very happy ending to the winter with the fantastic, victorious, glorious Canadian Winter Olympic games. I'm seen here celebrating with my Canadian buddy after the men's hockey win. (We ate crepes with maple syrup while we watched.)


But, alas...all good things must come to an end:

...And the snowmen became thin and frail, toppled over...became puddles....winter melted away, and as they do, the seasons turn turn turned, once again....

Hunting & Gathering Part 2: Do I have an inner hunter?

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Prologue

Continuing in the spirit of the previous post, my second story of frollicking in fall took place with the help of a day off, a borrowed vehicle, a highway out of Brussels, the beautiful town of Bouillon (which incidently, in-spite of being rather remote and little-known, I've now happened to have visited 3 times), 2 excellent road-tripping companions (they made fresh - still warm - berry muffins that morning for the drive! - Really, who could ask for anything more in a road tripping companion?), and the surprise of discovering an unexpected obscure little festival.

The Tale of La Fête de la Chasse
[The Hunting Festival]
(to the tune and rythym of the Teddy Bear's Picnic Song)

If you go out to Bouillon today, you're in for a big surprise,
If you go out to Bouillon today, inspite of its very small size:
Every local hunter that ever there was,
Will gather there for certain because,
Today's the day the Bouilloners have their Fête de la Chasse!

(Ok, it might be a little painful if I continue on in song, so I will switch to free flowing prose from here on.)

On any given weekend, in any corner, no matter how small, in Belgium, you never know when you might come upon a wee festival. We intended to just get out of the city for a break and a visit to an interesting castle, but instead, found ourselves unexpectedly in the middle of a fall hunting festival, with an impressive spread of the finest offerings of the forest and field of southern Belgium.

So, naturally, we joined in the spirit of the event, and perused and sampled some of the local fare.

Every type of sausage you can imagine
(garlic, lavendar, fig...).

Wheels of cheese so big, they make your eyes turn
into really big circles. (And tasty too.)

Funnily shaped mushrooms.

And, yes - the beasts of the forest.
(Sorry - a little gorey...but it was a hunting festival afterall.)

And some finely dressed locals.
(I think they probably always dress like that in these parts...
wouldn't you if you were surrounded by castles and wild boars?)

After we had added some local treats to our lunch bags, we continued on our way to the castle, expecting to encounter young men in tights armed with bow & arrow around the next bend.

But it seems times are now peaceful in Boullion...

...Unlike the days when the town's 'hero,' Godefroid de Bouillon founded this castle. This 11th century crusader was renouned for leading one of the Crusader armies across Europe to the Holy Land, in hopes of recapturing it from the muslims. On his 3-year journey, his army slaughtered thousands of Jews in towns in Europe enroute and then massacred an estimated 40,000 Muslims and Jews upon reaching Jerusalem. Nice chap. It baffles me that someone sitting in a cozy castle in a small valley in the Belgian Ardennes in the middle ages decides to put together an army of 60,000 men, and walk/ride for 3 years to Israel.

But on to cheerier topics, and less-violent times. Today the castle rests unarmed: it's look-out posts providing scenic views rather than strategic points of protection, it's halls quiet, save for an oohing/aahing tourist here and there.

And the route to the castle, on this particular day; covered in nature's red carpet and golden confetti.

The perfect spot, we thought, for a fall picnic, complete with Boullions' finest sausage, local organic apples, and a hot cup of soup thanks to aforementioned excellent, and wise-planning co-picnickers.
Apparently, having a picnic on a cold fall day is a peculiar thing to do in these parts (while, evidently, dressing in robes and wearing a feather in one's cap is not) - for we had more than one group of people on their way to the castle stop, do a double-take, stare, laugh at us - or take our photo!

Up at the castle, we enjoyed impressive vistas and learned about the ways of those who once stood at these same walls 1000 years before.

And explored its dungeons and passageways.

Pausing to sit on the ledge of rock that apparently helps maidens to get engaged within one year of sitting upon it. (Oops...I'm not sure I should have sat down.)

And then! - an impressive display of the castle's falconry - to add to the hunting theme of our day. Yes, this one is a vulture (from Africa...not sure how he feels about living in a castle in rainy Belgium).

This one is truly a beauty - if fierce.

And, to send us off as we departed from the castle, and from Boullion: a troupe of buglers - of course - the sounds of their bugling echoing through the valley.

And thus ends another adventure in Belgium.