One-Off Run?

This morning I awoke at 7:30, it wasn’t my first wake of the day, as the current heat wave makes my sleep shallow at best. The window of the tiny room I sleep in is too small for an air-conditioner which means a good night’s rest is currently unavailable to me.

My intent this morning was to wake up and go for a run, marginally for the exercise, but more to wake up my mind and get my blood flowing and to grab the day by the collar and force it to do my bidding. It didn’t work. I set off for my run with a vague idea of intended route. It only had three turns in it. Somehow I managed to miss the second turn. As this slog (not fast enough to be a job) through soup was my first in months, in ridiculous heat, I only aimed to do 3.5KM (about 2 miles).

I don’t know how far I actually ran. The goal to scale the local hill, find Casa Loma and return back to St. George Street dissolved in a maze of one way streets with ill-labelled streets. I stumble-jogged to St. Clair Avenue West and headed right. At Avenue Road I both knew where I was, and knew I was lost.

I run (stagger) should not have brought me to Avenue Road. Somehow, in my mind I have double backed in some bizarre wormhole to blip about one major street East. I was confused. I boldly struck off in a direction along Avenue Road, made it one block, something felt off, turned around and saw the CN Tower. I’m not a fan of the CN Tower, but it gives a great landmark throughout Toronto. On the shore of Lake Ontario it marks the southern extent of Toronto. Depending on how I crane my head, lets me know if I’m east or west of Yonge Street.

Now I know where I am.

Double back and job (stagger) back along Avenue Road, checking a bus shelter once to consult a map, scaring the middle aged Asian woman there into fleeing the shelter, apparently the run was hurting me. I discovered how close I was, closer than I thought, not as close as I wished, and stumbled off back on my lost course.

Some younger, taller, fitter,  jogging jerk had to fly past me like I was running through honey (I was, it was bitter honey) and part of me fervently rooted for a street car to slow him down. Only clip him. I wasn’t quite murderous.

I finally hit a spot where I could walk from and gratefully did. Even in the morning hours (it couldn’t have been 9:00AM yet) my shirt clung soddenly to my chest and the lungfuls of air burned like sucking from a hair dryer.

The worst part of it all, after a cold shower and stretching out, the humidex spiked at over 40 degrees Celsius today, sapping me of my already depleted energy.

Maybe I need to get up at 6:30?


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