December, 2010 – Frenetic schedule elicits momentary trepidation: Hong Kong, Guangzhou, Calgary

Morning view from Guangzhou hotel

Scheduling can prove to be a challenge with many extra-curricular activities, even if the activities are ostensibly for very good reasons such as one’s health. Of course, it does come down to determining priorities and in this case, several things emerged in December of a high priority that required a slight curtailing on the amount of running that I was hoping for. This included some time in Guangzhou, China for IPC (International Paralympic Committee) meetings in advance of the Para-Asian Games, and when venturing that far, it made sense to take a couple of days vacation to explore Hong Kong, one of the great cities in the world.



The travel and rather full days of meetings, events and formal dinners, precluded long runs – well at least it did if I wanted a reasonable amount of sleep – but I did make sure to allow time for some shorter runs. Guangzhou, being an industrial city of over 10 million that has experienced exponential growth the last two decades, has air that is at best “chewy”, at worse, a choke inducing toxic grey fog that significantly diminishes the classic allure of venturing outdoors for a run. Although far from my preference, it was the treadmill in the hotel fitness /exercise room that would have to suffice for my runs. Even with running, you “don’t always get what you want, but you get what you need.”

Hong Kong Harbour

In among the flights, the touring, the spectacular Opening Ceremony of the Games, there were a couple of 25-30 minute runs on the treadmill to at least maintain, if not improve, the running base I had started to establish on the streets of Toronto in October and November. As the days quickly melted off the calendar, a little seed of doubt sprouted in the recesses of my mind: would I have enough of a running fitness base established to physically manage a 16 week marathon training plan? Action always prevails over excessive deliberation so I quashed the trepidation and focused on having some fun. A night out with the boys for basketball,l was the perfect antidote to any fears or self-doubt of having taken on too much.

For over 35 years, a group of us connected by days in the gym at Crescent Heights High School, have gathered on Tuesday nights in a church basement in north-west Calgary to play pick-up basketball. We’ve all slowed, likely considerably, and hair lines and physiques have altered dramatically but the competitive spirit still burns brightly. However, it seems that the competitiveness is still topped by the camaraderie and comfort that one only truly experiences with others who are close friends; those of shared values who have been witness to each others’ lives. For it to last this long, it certainly is much more than the quality of basketball we play that keeps us coming back. The wings and beers after are certainly a draw but it is all about how guys connect; not by talking about things but by doing things together, activities that become stories and in many cases, becoming legend far in excess of the actual event!

On Dec 21 with the spirit of Christmas in the air, I ventured back to the tiny gym for a few hoops, a few laughs and lots of post-battle stories. With my peripatetic lifestyle, my random and irregular appearances are the constant I represent and although often heckled for my nomadic ways, it’s always comforting to return to the fold. Having clothes and other possessions scattered in at least three different locations, the location of my basketball shoes escaped so I grabbed my squash shoes from my house, the one I own yet don’t really live in, thinking that the court shoes would be an adequate replacement. Big mistake! Either the shoes had shrunk or they were always too small, the reason not matter as it would still mean the same end result, a serious case of “toe jam”. After nearly two hours of sprinting up and down the hardwood, or would you at least believe a steady jog with momentary bursts of speed, my big toes were mighty sore. When we finally called it a night and I sat down to pull off those painful shoes, the blood stained white socks indicated that there was a reason for the throbbing pain. Great, marathon training isn’t enough of a challenge without first losing a couple of toe nails?! Then again, perhaps the sore feet would distract me from burning muscles and screaming lungs during the upcoming training sessions. Atta boy Pat, keep looking for the positives....