Getting a good smile

Ever since the marathon, running and I have had a rocky relationship.

Some days, I feel great. Other days, I feel like I'm on a slog. In all likelihood, the run probably felt that way to me while I was training for the marathon, but my mind blocked out just how much the bad runs can feel bad.

Slowly, my run is coming back to me. Important, because this is where I need to gain some strength as my training plan turns toward Muskoka 70.3

To gain speed, my coach's plan of attack is to have me gain strength. And I gain strength by running hills.

This week was my first official hill run of half Ironman training. I slogged through the lower loop at Chestnut Ridge Park which contains the hill infamous in local running circles -- mother. Surprisingly, I felt pretty good after my hour of hill work. My pace was brisk and I thought of my form on the uphills.

Of course, it started to rain during the run. But I changed the focus in my mind. "Just keep running," I sang in my head. (As an aside, I must credit swim master Greg for this tune. At Tri in the Buff, he started singing "just keep swimming." I adjusted it for my run.)

The next say, I wasn't singing a tune. I was desperately reciting mantras. My coach had warned me that after running hills my easy-paced 30 minute would feel weird.

If by "weird" she meant "suck" that I was spot on in the training protocol.

High cadence. Good form. I kept thinking about those things, but my legs started to feel heavy halfway through the run.

My mantra became, "I am a strong runner." And I got through it.

Luckily, few things in life come with style points.

During both runs my mind flashed back to Sunday's Tri in the Buff race and the guy who lived on Lake Shore Road.

We first met Lake Shore Road Guy on the first loop of the bike course. He was sitting on his front lawn cheering athletes as they went by. The guy was older and if had a physical activity routine it had been many years since he participated. But clap and cheer he did. Honestly, part of me wondered what he thought of these triathletes cycling past him and how long he would entertain himself on his front lawn.

On the second loop, there he was, clapping again as I cruised past him and back into the park.

Then came the first lap of the run. Part of the course followed a path that ran parallel to Lake Shore Road. At this point, our guy had moved from his front lawn onto the running path, cheering and encouraging the runners now that the bike portion was completed. He also had started to blast "Eye of the Tiger" from his front lawn (I believe it was from his pick up truck, but I didn't get a good look at the sound system set up.)

He seemed like was genuinely having a good time.

On my second loop, he was still out there.

I gave him a high-five.

I can't help but smile and shake my head when I think of Lake Shore Road guy.

It was one of those scenes that happens in a race that is an elegant mixture of quirky, awesome, ridiculous and joyful.

It's one of those scenes that graciously returns to your memory on days when you need a good smile.