Intimidation Tactics - Just Having A Good Time

Despite how squirrely I may come across, I'm actually a fairly levelheaded person. I don't scare easily and I don't often find myself worrying over situations. Walking late at night doesn't bother me. I maintain my wits in stressful situations. And I love men. I mean, they are a great group of people with lovely assets and many even having winning personalities. I know several amazing individuals who are literally the best people I have ever met. While this all may seem pointless, I do have a reason for stating these obvious things. It's to remind you I am not a timid, easily frightened man-hater.

This morning, I decided to take a walk down to the lake. It's about five kilometres away and takes about forty minutes to get there. There are two ways to go, the roadway, which I usually run and the trails just over the bridge of Perseverance Creek. I decided to go the latter, because I needed to reconnect with some old growth foliage. As soon as I hit the treeline, I pulled out my earphones and listened to the nature around me. Not only because I love hearing the birds, but because this is cougar and bear territory. If I'm going to be eaten, I'd like to have a fighting or fleeing chance. There were a couple concerning noises in the thick underbrush, so I found myself a good poking stick. Granted, a stick isn't going to do much against a hundred and thirty-six pound kitty, but I felt a bit better having twig in hand.

When I emerged from the trees and set eyes on the lake, I noticed three guys off to the side packing up their stuff. As soon as I stepped forward, they all turned to stare at me and watched intently as I made my way down to the water. Turning my back on them, I heard one say, "Like that stick will help you." And laughter. The comment irked me because I didn't understand the meaning behind it, or why the other guys thought it so hilarious.

At this remark, hellos were out of the question, mostly because I was instantly uncomfortable. I veered to the left, figuring if they were getting ready to go, I could poke around the lake for awhile, take some pictures of the breathtaking scenery, then head back home without being under their scrutiny. I ventured around the bend in the lake and took in the expanse of water and trees.

Except, knowing I had to go back the way I came put a damper on the amazing fact I live in such a glorious place. As I retraced my steps, I had a sinking feeling the guys were still going to be there. Coming around the corner, some twenty minutes later, my sinking feeling was confirmed. There they were. All three. Just standing there. Waiting. Hoping to go unnoticed, I slipped into the trees, but they were paying attention and followed close behind.

Because I'm a fairly speedy walker, I managed to get a fair pace ahead without all out running away from them. Here's when they started yelling at me. Calling out to me. Taunting me, really, even though it seems dramatic to use the word. Cat calls. Asking if I was alone. Whistling. Screaming at the stop of their lungs. Demanding to know where I was going. Why I was walking so fast.

Remember the part where I told you I am a levelheaded person. Well, I am, which is why I found myself reasoning their behaviour. They were probably harmless. Probably just having some fun. They were probably nice enough guys. Except, I didn't really like how discouraging the word probably felt at the time. I didn't want to count on probablys. Bad things happen and it's my responsibility to keep myself safe, right? Wait a minute, how could I jump to such crazy conclusions? Surely these guys were only joking around. They weren't going to hurt me. They were just giving me a hard time. Acting foolish. Heck, they probably didn't even realize the sickening feeling in my gut, or how intimidating three guys are to one girl who is in the middle of the forest alone.

But we've all seen enough horror movies to know how terrifying that particular scenario is.

I did the whole glancing back over my shoulder. Second guessing my decision of going to the lake. Kicking myself for not bringing Dixon. Worrying whether I was walking fast enough. Contemplating hiding in the bushes until they passed. Instead of sticking to the main path, I decided to climb the embankment and take the logging road, figuring my knowledge of the forest would benefit me, and I ran right out of there. Not stopping or slowing. Feeling relief as their shouts and laughter faded.

And it all seemed crazy and weird. Crazy to feel that fear and weird to be worrying over the choices I'd made.

When I reached the main road and slowed my pace, I felt stupid. Silly for blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Except, the staring, watching, following, shouting were all intimidation tactics and not just a good time. Sure, they might have been 'goofing off' or 'being boys' but there are repercussions to their actions, ones I highly doubt they even considered. Yes, I am rational and know the forest, but I worry about how the same situation could have afflicted someone else. Let's say someone who had been sexually assaulted in the past. What kind of emotions would they have felt? How would they have reacted?

The simple fact is, we don't live in a day and age where rationality pays. Yes, I told myself these men were probably good guys  out for a morning swim and were just harassing me a bit, but I still got myself out of there. Because one against three isn't good odds. I didn't slow my pace to see if my levelheadedness was accurate. And honestly, even a bit of harassment isn't an acceptable amount.

If a man emerged from the forest alone and saw three women at the lakeside, would he feel the same way? No. Would the situation have unfolded the same way? Probably not. Chances are those girls wouldn't act the same way. This was a strange situation for me. Entering the forest worrying about being eaten by bears and cougars, only to leave frustrated over the excuses we make for guys, claiming 'boys will be boys' and not taking intimidation tactics seriously, when they are seriously worrisome.

The Elusive Runner's High

This will be my last post about running, until I get desperate for something to write about and cave only to talk about corns or proper shoes or how to place your hands. Actually, if you are looking for advice, don't read on. I literally have zero help for you. I cannot tell you how to run properly, what shoes to buy, whether you should bend your knees or not. The reason for this is, whenever I am out there, hitting the tarmac, I'm pretty sure I'm doing it wrong. It doesn't come easy. In fact, if you're planning on starting, be forewarned, it isn't fun and it sucks more than it rocks. At least for a little while.  

The endorphins come later. Much. Much. Much. Later.  

There's this thing you hear runners talking about called the runner's high. I always considered it a mythical thing. Like heaven, it's a place where you no longer hurt, breaths come easy, the cramp in your side disappears and you think you can go on forever. When I was running on a treadmill, I could go for hours and I mistakenly thought this was in fact the 'runner's high'. In reality, I was in fact doing it wrong. Turns out you're not supposed to have it on the lowest setting. This simulates a slight decline, meaning you're in fact running downhill, and we all can do that forever. (Only a slight hyperbole) The professionals and die hards say you're supposed to put the treadmill on a one to three percent incline. So, oops.

Outdoors is a completely different matter. When I first started running outside, I noticed it was a lot tougher on ever part of my body. Meaning I worked much harder. Suddenly those hour long running sessions were a thing of the past. Five kilometres was where I drew the line. Except, I've been getting stronger. Not skinnier. No, my thighs are the same hammy girth, but I can walk farther. Jog longer. Move faster. And it isn't so hard anymore. 

So, I decided to run down to the lake. It's only five kilometres there, but when I arrived, I decided to run back. Ten kilometres. This was the farthest I've ran outside on the rugged terrain. Sure, I've done fifteen and twenty on my adventuring, but never running the whole thing. Truthfully, I walk a lot. But I did run the entire way there and back. Not walking once. I am proud, even though it is a drop in the bucket for those nutcases who actually run half marathons, marathons and ultra marathons. And about seven kilometres in, I hit the runner's high. My stride was strong, my posture perfect, breathing easy, and I felt good. Strong. Healthy. Unstoppable. Just between the two of us, I actually contemplated adding more distance! Of course, this was insanity and I snapped out of it and went straight home and into the bath. 

As it turns out, the runner's high does exist. It just doesn't happen for awhile. You have to put time and distance in before you can push back the 'Gee, this is terrible' part of your run. Of course, this is all coming from a woman who's thighs get separation anxiety when in the cobbler pose because they aren't used to being apart. So, take it for what it's worth. 

Morning And Night

So, I have decided to get out of the house more. I find there are a lot of excuses as to why I can't, especially on work days. In the end, those are all bullshit. The harsh language only shows the seriousness of the statement. If I leave it up to myself, I will come up with reasons why I can't get out and breathe the fresh air.

As of July 1st, there have been no excuses. Yes, it's only July 3rd, but that's three days and we don't sniff at successes. We celebrate them. Because there is enough negativity and a little positive thinking goes a long way. In fact, it might just get me out of bed tomorrow morning.

They say routine kills you. I mean, I don't know who they is, but one of them is Paulo Coelho. He's responsible for the quote pictured below.

And it isn't that I disagree with him. No, I think adventuring and exploration, of mind, body and nature, is important. But I also think routine can help you out of a rut. If something is truly important and you make a habit of doing it, then maybe it transcends routine. Maybe then it becomes living.

I've decided to make reacquainting myself with the world part of my routine. Twice a day. Morning and night. 7AM and 7PM. I will be out in the world, breathing the air and moving my limbs. Right now, this is almost a chore. Don't look at my like I am lazy. It takes energy to tie those sneakers up. But I feel the benefits already. This is a nice way to start and end my day. It gives me time to gear up and down.

Okay, so this is routine right now. But I suspect by the end of the month, it won't be routine. It will be something I look forward to. Something I love. Moments I cherish because I am alone and reconnecting with Mother Nature. Eventually, I will only have one routine and it will be this: