Man down in the half-marathon
Yesterday was a great day for a road race. And then quite suddenly, it wasn’t.
Nov 4
Yesterday was a great day for a road race. And then quite suddenly, it wasn’t.
I just returned from a four-week vacation in southern France. I know, I know – poor me, having to switch from cheap-as-dirt baguettes, pastries and wine (plus clear blue skies, dry air, and a 20 degree ocean), to falling leaves, near freezing nights, 7 pm darkness and public adoration of … the pumpkin? … in one short weekend. Oh well. Read more
When I heard about Constable Jennifer Kovach’s accidental death by traffic accident in Guelph last week, I felt sick. She was only 26, and died suddenly, for no easy reason, perhaps just a slippery road.
I DIG INTO my wallet this morning and pull out my last 19 pennies. I’ll spend them the next chance I get, and I won’t be sad to see the coin get retired. Or will I?
LAST SUNDAY I ran the Hamilton marathon in just over three hours, my first 42.2-kilometre race since New York, two years ago. It wasn’t my fastest ever – in fact, it was pretty average. But one of the joys was racing with loads of my training partners from the Guelph Victors. I drove down in a van load of six; I ran the first 25 kilometres in lockstep with Stephen and Lisa; and the finish line had a strong Victors vibe as we all cheered our teammates home. I had my eye out for one teammate in particular, but I never saw him, not at the start nor at the finish. Read more
THERE WAS a girl. Twenty-four years old. By all accounts, a luminous human being from the very beginning – the sort of girl whose sparks of brilliance and warmth of personality ignited everyone she met.