A stormy start

Some especially ferocious weather ripped through New York City on Tuesday evening. It lasted only about 30 minutes and started just as I was going to bed, but it was evident by the simultaneous thunder and lightning over our Upper West Side brownstone that we were in the eye of the storm. I didn't think much of it until the following morning when we arrived for a mid-week cycle in Central Park. The carnage of branches and leaves across the road made cycling difficult at best, and dangerous at worst, and by the time we reached Engineer's Gate at East 90th Street, we were forced to turn back due to a felled tree further up the road.

The extent of the destruction wrought by this storm really sunk in when I read that over 100 trees had lost their lives Tuesday night, and an estimated 500 more had been severely "injured." While the roads had been cleared by the time we returned Thursday morning to attempt another ride, the fields in the upper half of the Park looked as though an arboreal mass murder had taken place. There was something very sad about seeing my favourite playground so damaged, and in some way I mourned the loss of so many majestic chestnuts, oaks, and elms. I had not realized on Tuesday night just how devastating that storm would be.

I also received a bit of disappointing personal news on Tuesday that, at the time, didn't seem too severe. In truth, it really isn't severe, and if it represents the worst of my problems, then I am very lucky indeed. I know it's something on which I shouldn't dwell another moment. But as my mood gradually soured on Wednesday, I realized that Tuesday's bit of bad news was only beginning to sink in and was affecting me more than I would have anticipated.

This morning didn't help make things much better: it was 29 degrees Celsius and 87% humidity by 7 am, but for some reason known only to my inner psyche, I forced myself to run a hard-ish 3.5 miles. It sucked. I struggled. It was perhaps the first run of my life on which I actually felt nauseous and dizzy, and all that within the first 15 minutes.

But last night I read an intriguing article in Runner's World about the potential for our psychological pain to manifest itself in the physical, and to create injuries where there should be none. I have no time or patience for injury right now; I'm enjoying cycling and running far too much to be sidelined by some silly pulled muscle or sore joint. Lest I wallow in my bad feelings any longer and end up sidelining myself for the rest of the summer and fall, I am going to end today's post with three positive thoughts:

1. Zdenek and I cycled a fast and furious 18 miles on Thursday morning. We knocked it out of the park, and we worked as a team of only two. It was the best ride of my life (though admittedly it helps that I started from scratch only one year ago).

2. I've been glued to the IAAF World Championships all week long, but Usain Bolt's 200 m sprint yesterday was something that I almost feel lucky to have witnessed. Even better, the men's and women's marathons are on this weekend, so I have much exciting sports viewing to look forward to.

3. In one week and one day I will be back home with friends and family. It's Take 2 on the 2009 summer vacation. It will be filled with time in the mountains and around lakes, hiking and swimming, eating and drinking. I'll get to spend almost five days with my girlfriends in the Okanagon Valley (pictured right), where we'll get caught up with one another, tour a few wineries, and celebrate the "hitching" of one of our gang.

So while this week may have gotten off to a stormy start (and while it's actually storming outside my window as I type this), there are rides to be ridden, marathons to be watched, and vacations to be had. Injuries, stay away!