Life Without Poutine: Run, Uri, Run!

As a kid, I was never much of a runner. In Grade 9 Phys Ed, I once threw up after the teacher tried to get us to run a 5 km run. I thought I was going to throw up my insides. The most athletic part of my body were my fingers, because I spent countless hours playing video games.

Then in 2008, I went to work at Camp Kodiak in Parry Sound, Ontario. One day during work camp, the cleanup weeks before camp actually starts, Kristen, the hilarious wife of our maintenance fellow, Josh, told us that during camp, many counselors tend to run along the path that leads to the entrance of the camp. I believe the road was about 2.5 km long, so running to the entrance and back was about 5 km. I don't know what spurred me to do it--probably just a curiousity to see if I could actually do it--but I decided to strap on my running shoes, and head out.

That first run was a sad outing; I was breathing heavily like a woman in labour, my head was burning, and my legs felt like rubber. Once I got that first run out of my system, though, and I was able to gauge my pace and the distance, I was able to run the whole 5 kilometres. I think my time was somewhere around the 27 minute mark. I was pretty happy with myself, considering I was completely new to the world of running.

I couldn't have done it without my music, though. Whenever I felt like stopping, the right song would come on and just pump me with a shot of adrenaline. That entire summer, I can't even tell you how many times I listened to Green Days International Super Hits! Not only did it give me the emotional, physical, and mental boost to keep me going, but it also worked as a timer; based on landmarks and where I was when a particular song ended, I could tell if I was ahead or behind schedule.

But perhaps most importantly, that run and those songs gave me a daily routine. As a result, they made me feel at home. Your daily routine might include reading the newspaper, watching Sports Centre, or checking Facebook and responding to e-mails in the morning, or going to the gym, playing video games, or going for a pint after work. Our routines give us the comfort of predictability and stability that we sometimes need in our lives. (Too much predictability can be a bad thing.)

For that half hour, I would completely forget that I was hours away from Toronto. Kodiak was my home away from home, and those trees, the horses, the dirt road underneath me, the silence that rang out into the sky, they offered that comfort of routine. I didn't even run for the sake of exercise; I just ran because it was a time for myself and a time to clear my head.

The following year, I volunteered in Nicaragua for the summer. Once there, I was once again given the opportunity to run to my heart's content. Cat, our supervisor, was an avid runner. It was a way of life for her. At around 6 pm on our first night there, she yelled out, "So who's running with me today?!" It turns out she ran everyday.

I joined in on the fun, though I was a little concerned because all of the people I was running with were actually fit and physically active. I didn't want to slow them down or embarass myself by collapsing on the sidewalk after my legs turned to mush.

Thankfully, our first run was a success--and not just because I was able to keep up with the gang. It was a success because Cat told me what a fantastically terrible runner I was. She told me that my steps were way too heavy and that I was damaging my knees. Essentially, she made me re-learn how to run. My life changed after that. By the end of the summer, I was running all the way to the next town over. I loved running in Nicaragua because I got to run along the Pan American Highway, which just seemed like a cool thing to be able to do.

Once I got back to Toronto, I tried to continue my running routine. I would run 5 kilometres to the Rouge Hill Go Station along Lawrence Avenue East, and run all the way back. I would do this about three times a week. I got back into the habit of listening to music while I ran, this time opting for Coral Fang by the Distillers. Brodie knew just how to get me pumped. Sometimes I would find myself working up to a sprint without even realizing it, because the song was just that awesome. And again, I was able to gauge my pace and my progress based on where I was along my run during certain songs.

Unfortunately, my knees started feeling the affect of the contact with the concrete, and I had to stop running. Even when I tried using the treadmills at the gym years later, the impact was still grating on my knees. I felt like such an old man.

To this day, though, whenever I hear that Green Day album, I immediately teleport back to Kodiak; Coral Fang reminds me of the fire hall, the library, the grocery store, Woburn Public School, and of course, the Go Station--all places that I would pass on my run along Lawrence. Those albums captured a moment in time for me. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear the trucks passing by me along the Pan Am, and I can smell the cool crisp air. These places were home to me for a part of my life, whether it was for 2 months or 4 years, and during those times, my runs became part of my routine, part of my daily existence. It made me feel grounded.

Now that I'm in Korea, on the other side of the world, I've vowed to myself that I'd get back into running, because I definitely need to feel grounded here, so far away from everybody and everything that I love. It took me 6 weeks before I finally started up, but it's happening. My knees are holding up so far, and I'm nowhere near read for 10 kilometres, but it's a start.

The best part is that this is probably my favourite place I've ever gone running because I get lost in my surroundings here like no other place. I get to run right along the Taehwa River, and whenever I feel like stopping, I just look to my right, take in the view, and take a deep breath. The river is my home, it's my serenity in a foreign land. I feel rejuvenated after every run.

Oh, and I'm listening to Billy Talent's self-titled debut album. There's just something about punk rock that really gets my heart pumping.