The bitch is back

23 K LSD today in 2:30, after a two-week long-run hiatus. I'm pretty pleased with that, because it means I still have hope of a 2:00-2:05 finish at the Scotiabank Half-Marathon in two weeks. But I'm not going to be hard on myself if I don't make that goal, because the last month has been hellish. Training fell by the wayside, and that's how life goes.

I did my usual route around the Seawall in reverse, and rather than running the same portion between the Cambie Street Bridge and the Second Beach Pool twice, I went down West Georgia through the downtown core. I don't normally run there (and was reminded why when I had to stop for lights at nearly every corner), but I got to see the Jeff Ladouceur sculpture intertwining the pillars of the Vancouver Art Gallery, and the yellow-and-blue-striped tents Cirque du Soleil set up for the Corteo production.

Running the route in reverse made it feel like a completely different route. I had only a vague concept of where I was in relation to my usual route, except for a few unmistakable landmarks (the Lions Gate bridge). I thought my plans would be foiled at some point by the goings-on at the Vancouver Triathlon World Championships, but surprisingly, I only had to maneuver around a crowd for a minute or so around English Bay.

Winding my way around False Creek, I saw a dragon boat race about to start. There was a judge in a motorboat who was ensuring the boats were correctly aligned at the starting lined. She had a bullhorn and for about ten minutes, all you could hear was, "BOAT FIVE, ONE PADDLE FORWARD. THANK YOU. BOAT TWO, HOLD. THANK YOU. BOAT SIX, ONE PADDLE FORWARD. THANK YOU."

Finally, when they were all set up, the horn sounded and they all started shouting and paddling. Pretty exciting to watch. However, Boat Seven appeared to be having trouble, and nearly crashed into Boat Six. So they restarted the race, which involved ten minutes of turning around to get back to their original positions (all the while accompanied by "BOAT SEVEN, STOP PADDLING BACKWARDS. STOP, NOW. NOW. WAIT FOR BOAT FIVE. TURN.") It was pretty painstaking. I can't imagine putting all my energy into that for a minute or two and then having to start over. I might have been convinced to steer the boat directly into Boat Seven, just for that. I guess that's what it's like when Olympic sprinters have a faulty start, though the difference between me and Olympic sprinters (the only difference) is that they probably adopt a more professional attitude about it.