So we’re all moved. At least we’re home in Canada. And have landed happily in a little apartment above my sister’s garage. I love it. It’s just like living in a tree house. Lots of windows. Poplar trees and blue skies outside. But that’s not why we’re here… Let’s talk running.
Did my last American run in South Dakota when we were staying with Phil’s dad. Had a few mule deer to keep me company, although it’s easier to see them than to get my camera out in time to get them posing by the side of the gravel road.
It was cool and dry. A perfect day to say goodbye. The States have been good to me.
My next run was cool and wet. Cold and wet, even. With rain that transmogrified into snow. Luckily we got out BEFORE the snow really started.
Talia took me on a trail that runs through the city. Up and down and around. Fifteen minute coffee break to warm up in Tim Hortons. Then up and down and around and home again. Nothing but fun.
By now I’ve even run a few times out at Mum and Dad’s farm. Long, long straight roads. Lots of distance running there. Until…I saw a bear track at the side of the road.
Happily he was heading north when I was heading south so I didn’t have to worry about running into him along the road. That didn’t stop me, however, from peering back over my shoulder just in case.
Since then we’ve had a little review session… What to do if you meet a bear when you’re running. Stop. Don’t run. Back away slowly. And praying probably won’t hurt either.
Stay safe out there pals.